#the book is bullshit you have to pick the bad bits out of like a dumpster sandwich but the fandom is x100 worse

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

More Logan and writer reader pls? I need to see a grown ass man grovel

Wade haphazardly tossed a bag of mints on your kitchen table and you looked up from your laptop, "For the nausea, you know. Since you won't tell me who your baby daddy is so I can make him-"

"That implies that I know," you tell him, making Logan pause where he'd been putting away groceries and dog food- trying to keep you from lifting anything heavier than a book.

Wade folded his arms and coked out his hip, "Bullshit you don't know."

"You don't have the market cornered on bad life choices Wade," you sigh.

He leaned on the table and stared you down. "I will find out," he threatened. "And when I do-"

"No one forced me to fuck-"

"Never said they did," he said, "But they're gonna pay fucking child support."

"Yeah. Sure." You restrain an eyeroll and swallow hard, having to get up so you could puke, Trigger following after you like a shadow.

Logan listened to the heaving and fought the urge to go hold your hair back- his ability to be close to you right now was... tenuous at best. You were tired. You were depressed. And Logan was the only person you didn't have to front quite as hard for. You could be upset about things. And worried. And scared.

It was something. Even if it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted- he didn't even know if he wanted to BE a dad. But he knew you couldn't do this alone. Even if you were still heartbroken and pissed off at him.

"She fuckin' knows," Wade said, picking up your phone. "She fuckin' knows and I'm gonna beat him until-"

"You're so fucking stupid it's not funny anymore," Logan growled flexing his hands to keep his claws sheathed.

"She told you, didn't she?"

"Yeah." One lie is as good as another. And it'll keep Wae from going through your shit. You have all your appointments in your calendar and he's willing to bet you don't want spectators- he's not even invited and it's his kid.

"You motherfucker," Wade gasped. "And you didn't tell me?"

Logan shrugged, "She asked me not to. He's not a nice guy."

"Fuck!"

"Stop yelling this isn't the crack house you live in," you yell from the bathroom.

"It's not a crack house, it's a crack home!" Wade rounded back on Logan when you started dry heaving again and slammed his fist on the table, "Who is it?" he demanded.

"No one you need to worry about," Logan hedged.

Wade scowled, "Logan I swear-"

"Look, do you want us to get along or not?" It was the last card he had to play. Wade wanted his family to get along. And he was COMPLETELY oblivious to the fact that you were avoiding his roommate. He'd been bitching about the lack of movie nights and dinners.

"Fine," he bit out, "But it's your adamantium ass if anything happens."

[hussyknee]

What would it be like to be hyperfixate on a piece of media whose fandom isn't horribly triggering I wonder.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,881 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language (duh), allusions to past violence and flashbacks Summary: Y/N decides Negan has earned just a little bit more freedom. A/N: This is part 2 of a miniseries... lol or maybe not so mini? I'm not sure yet! Slow burn takes time to do well... anyway, first part is linked below! HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Bad Medicine - Part 1

You came in late that evening. Negan looked up from his book. Something he thought was maybe relief washed over him to see you again, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe he just didn’t want another tense exchange with Daryl… Maybe he was just glad not to be alone.

You slid his tray through the slot and watched curiously as he carefully tucked a torn scrap of paper into the pages of his book to mark his place. “What’re you reading?” you asked.

“Some book Gabriel left me,” he said. “I think I’ve read it five times.”

“What is it?” you asked again.

“Some nautical whaling adventure bullshit,” Negan said, bending to pick up his tray.

“Is it any good?” you asked.

“It was the first time. Maybe a bit the second. But not anymore,” he said with a dry laugh, sinking back down on his cot to settle into his dinner.

“I can bring you some other things to read. What do you like?” you offered.

His hazel eyes shot up to you, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Now, why would do that, doll?”

You ignored his use of the pet name and simply shrugged. “Because I’d hate to have to read the same thing over and over and over with no choice.”

“Isn’t that what me bein’ in here is all about? No choice?”

You paused reflectively. “Maybe at first, as a punishment for everything you did. But now—I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m not gonna fuckin’ turn down some new reading material if you’re offerin’.” A mischievous glint grew in his eyes. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any naughty stuff layin’ around, do you?” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “Negan…”

“Honestly, homemade pictures would be even better if you have the means—”

“I’m leaving,” you growled, turning to go.

He laughed heartily and you were surprised that your steps faltered at the sound. “Come on! I’m only kidding! Ish…”

You turned back around and shot him a look.

“Here’s a question: what’s the deal with you and Daryl?” he asked, taking an exploratory bite out of his sandwich.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? That’s what you want to talk about?”

He shrugged. “Well, this whole Gabe-Siddiq-Rosita love triangle has me on the edge of my seat. Can you blame me for hoping to scrounge up another such juicy morsel? You know I love a bit of drama. It’s a real-life telenovela.”

You rolled your eyes but paced back toward his cell and took a seat in the wooden chair outside it. “Daryl is… I consider him my brother,” you said. “And I’d die for him. He’s family.”

“You sure he knows about this bein’ ‘brotherly’ love?” Negan laughed. “He gave me quite a talking to about you earlier…”

“Considering your past, can you blame him?”

“No,” Negan admitted. “No, I can’t… So, no hanky-panky there, huh?” Negan asked, leaning forward to study your face as if trying to confirm what you’d just told him, still smiling. “Too bad for him… Guy could probably use some, right? Help chill him the fuck out,” he laughed.

You shot him a disapproving stare and he tried to look apologetic with only some success. “Are you through?” you asked, your tone bored.

“Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for the meal,” he said. You climbed to your feet, nodding.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll do the same thing. There’s more to do over there.”

“You got it, boss,” Negan acknowledged. “Hey—Y/N—I know I can be an asshole, but I really meant what I said earlier. Thank you.”

You only nodded and gave him a tight smile.

And that was how you and Negan continued, for quite some time. It took you over a week to get the area completely cleared and the rescued medicinal plants transplanted. After that, you ended up having Negan build the new raised beds and help you install them. He could be surprisingly handy when he wasn’t busy cracking jokes and he seemed genuinely grateful for something to do to pass the time. It was surprising how easily the two of you got into an almost comfortable routine. You often were reminding yourself that all you were doing was building rapport so you could help Negan make progress, whatever that meant… It still seemed to be some vague, shapeless idea in your mind, but the thought of Carl and Rick and your loyalty and sense of duty to help Michonne kept you going.

Finally, with that project done, you decided it was time to start venturing outside the walls. Considering how well things had been going, Daryl couldn’t disagree with you anymore, though he did continually feel the need to remind you not to let your guard down. He also requested that you stay close to Alexandria when you ventured out, something you agreed to as sensible, at least to start.

Afterall, if Negan really was to someday assimilate back into this weird version of “society,” this step-by-step, gradual building of trust and rapport seemed like the way to do it.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You lightly tossed a canvas pack at him after swinging the cell door open and he caught it against his chest, giving you a curious look.

“Think you can handle going outside the walls today?” you asked him.

Negan looked surprised. “With careful supervision, I’m assuming?”

“Obviously,” you said.

He nodded, still looking a little stunned. “You trust me enough to take me outside the walls?”

“Enough,” you agreed, cocking one eyebrow.

Negan let out a low laugh. “Alright… What’s the plan then for today, warden?”

You rolled your eyes. He’d taken to calling you that since you’d given him a few stern looks in response to his usual pet names. “Foraging,” you said simply. “We running low on a few things.”

Negan stepped out of his cell with the bag slung over his shoulder, his canteen now stored inside alongside the smaller bags you’d tossed in for keeping gathered ingredients separated. “And I’m serving mostly as the pack mule?” he asked, watching you brush past him closely to swing his cell shut behind him. Was he imagining it or had your hand brushed his arm? Probably imagining it…

“Pack mule?” you repeated. You held up your own pack to show him. “No. I’m gonna collect mine into my bag, and you’re gonna store whatever you find in your own. I’ve been teaching you plants for a couple weeks now. I thought we’d see what you’ve learned,” you explained. “Unless, you’d rather stay here and—”

“No,” Negan interrupted you, almost a little too eagerly. He laughed a little nervously and the sound was deep and had a slightly gruff edge to it. “No,” he repeated, less eager. He ran a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “I’d rather not sit in my cell doing fuck-all, thanks.”

You smiled at him a little and he tried to ignore the way his heart jumped in his chest. Uh oh. What was that? Surely that was just because you were the only woman who’d smiled at him in maybe… six years?

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “Come on.”

Negan followed you through town toward the gate and you both tried your hardest to ignore the not-so-subtle stares. You should have been used to it by now, but whenever you stepped out with Negan beside you, you felt as if you were on display. The man may as well have been wearing a sign advertising his past crimes. There would never be any complete escape from his reputation and past. All you could hope for was a tiny seed of redemption… and some days even that seemed hard.

As you approached the gate, Negan cleared his throat and glanced over at you.

“Hmm?” you hummed, absently waving to Rosita who was on the guard platform.

“So, Daryl was okay with this?” Negan asked and you shot him a weird look.

“What does Daryl have to do with anything? What is your obsession with him?” you asked.

“Uhh—he fuckin’ hates me and threatened to kill me if I tried to hurt you or—do anything he perceives as being out of line,” Negan admitted. “You can see why that’s of slight concern to me,” he finished.

“Makes sense,” you said, not at all surprised. “But Daryl trusts my judgement, so when I told him I thought you were ready for slightly more freedom he was fine with it and so was Michonne. And if we aren’t back by dark, they’ll come looking. They know exactly where we’ll be,” you explained, stepping out past the gate with Negan just behind you. The metallic rattle continued until you heard the familiar slam and clunk of the latch, indicating you were firmly outside the walls. You looked over at Negan and he had a queer expression on his face, his eyes flitting over the scenery ahead. “It’s been a minute, hmm, since you’ve seen outside,” you commented.

He nodded, his hazel eyes finally landing back on you. “Yeah,” he said. He pulled in a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim and then let it out slowly.

You thought he almost seemed emotional and you again marked the vulnerability you were seeing in him. This Negan seemed far different from the one who had brandished the baseball bat… “Come on,” you said, nodding your head toward the tree line.

Negan hesitated. “Hey, uhh… What if—” he stopped, breaking off abruptly and you gave him a curious look. “Just—I can’t exactly defend myself if shit goes sideways out here, can I? You’re certainly not gonna hand me a knife,” he laughed dryly.

You smiled vaguely. “I’ll protect you, Negan,” you said. For some reason, this made him laugh and your eyes shot over to him. “What? You don’t think I can?”

“No, it’s not that. Not at all. It’s just—bit of a role reversal from my Savior days, isn’t it?”

Your face grew sad, the smile fading, and the look in your eyes grew more distant. “You weren’t a savior, Negan. The only person you were really saving was yourself,” you said decisively.

“I kept a lot of people alive in the Sanctuary before your group showed up,” he retorted.

“Alive?” you repeated, rounding on him. “Alive in the same way we’ve been keeping you alive in that cell. Maybe alive, but not living. How often did you even think about what the lowest of the workers were going through? Scraping for points, wondering if they’d have enough to feed their kids, let alone themselves. I bet you didn’t think of them even once a day. You were too busy indulging in whatever the fuck you wanted.”

Negan’s brow dropped low over his hazel eyes and he looked reflective, as if truly considering the weight of your words. When you started walking again, he followed behind you in silence and you could feel a tension between the two of you for several long minutes. But by the time you started pointing out plants to him, it had diminished.

Negan was a fast learner and it wasn’t long before you both had a few of the small foraging bags full of herbs and mushrooms. You’d only had to correct him a couple times on his identification. (“Not those unless you want to go back to being in your cell all the time, Negan,” you’d said. You scraped your nail down the stem and it suddenly bruised bright yellow before your eyes. He’d flinched and dropped the poisonous mushroom, an easy to make mistake for a new learner. “Fuck me! No, I sure as shit do not,” he’d said, casting an apologetic look at you. You’d given him an encouraging smile and told him it was alright.)

He found himself laughing and shaking his head suddenly, tucking another small bag into the canvas pack.

“What?” you prompted him.

“Just—look at me? I’m out here following you around in the woods picking mushrooms and leaves like a fucking Disney princess. Life is wild,” he said. His hazel eyes were crinkled in a smile and you took in the sparking nature of the light in them and the genuine ease of him just existing in that moment. The salt and pepper in his beard was more noticeable now that he’d been keeping it neat and trimmed again and it wasn’t lost on you that the somewhat slumped posture of his shoulders seemed to have lessened lately.

You sighed and nodded your agreement. “It sure it,” you agreed. “If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be out here with you, I’d have taken it as a threat.” You turned back to the plant in front of you and plucked a few more leaves before glancing over at him again. You were surprised to see that his eyes were still on you. “Do you miss it?” you asked him suddenly. You were still down on one knee on the leaf litter and he was standing above you, his tall, lean frame stretching upwards. An involuntary flash of the line-up suddenly burst in your mind, hot and red, and you nearly fell over, all your breath leaving in a rush. You put a hand down to steady yourself and Negan watched your head drop and your eyes squeeze closed. Your other hand drifted to the handle of your gun, as if you were reassuring yourself it was still there.

“Hey—” Negan said, concern thick in his voice. “You okay, doll?”

You gathered yourself, gulping at the sudden tightness in your throat, and then stood up quickly, nodding. “Yeah. I’m fine. And don’t call me that… I think—I think we’re about done for today,” you said hurriedly, tucking the supplies back into your own pack.

He nodded, his brow still heavily furrowed. “Okay,” he said, his voice unsure. But he fell into step beside you again. The tension in the air had returned. Negan let it stretch for a minute before he broke the silence, genuinely feeling his concern like a tightness across his chest. “You aren’t gonna tell me what that was about back there?”

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. You focused straight ahead instead, and navigated stepping over some fallen wood while you answered. “No,” you said simply.

“Okay.” Negan forced himself to pull his eyes away from you, nodding, and fell silent again. Neither of you spoke on the short walk back to the gate nor all the way back to the cell. You finally looked up and met his eyes again as he handed you the pack he’d had slung over his shoulder, now full of foraged tidbits that would make life just a little bit better or a little bit more enjoyable for many residents.

Negan studied your expression, and he thought you looked sad. There was really no other word for it. His hands slipped into his pockets and he stepped back into his cell just far enough to allow you to close the door, not taking his eyes off you. The bolt locking him in echoed in the space.

“Thanks for your help today,” you said, meeting his eyes one more time.

His brow furrowed even more heavily over his eyes. “Sure,” he said, nodding. “Not sure you should be thankin’ me, though. Probably should go the other way around.”

You didn’t really acknowledge his response, just added his canvas bag to your shoulder and licked your lips nervously. “I’ll make sure you get lunch soon,” you said.

Negan watched you turn and leave, puzzled and frankly a little worried. His fingers curled around the cold iron bars of his cell as the outside door slammed behind you.

Once you were back in the sunshine, you made your way toward the pantry with the bags, with a detour to find Daryl at Aaron’s house. He was just where you expected he’d be, working in the garage.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps and straightened up hurriedly when he realized it was you and perhaps because he sensed something or read it on your face. “Hey,” he drawled, wiping his hands absently on the bandana from his back pocket. “How’d it go out there?” he asked eagerly.

You nodded thoughtfully, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “Good,” you said. “Pretty good…”

His eyes narrowed. “Ya sure?” he prodded you. “Somethin’ happen?” He was already bristling, ready to go punch Negan across the jaw if he needed to.

“Not exactly,” you said hesitantly, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

Daryl frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“I mean—he didn’t do anything. I just—I had a flashback,” you said, your eyes growing a bit distant. “To back then. At the line-up,” you murmured, ducking your head and blinking fast to clear away the tears in your eyes. “I was kneeling down, picking tea leaves off this plant and I looked up and he was sort of standing over me and it just—it triggered something,” you admitted.

Daryl looked deeply concerned, the line between his eyebrows deepening. “Was it somethin’ in yer gut? Did ya feel… unsafe?”

“No,” you said, almost urgently, looking up at him and catching his blue eyes again. There was a touch of faint disbelief in your own voice. “That’s the thing. I don’t feel unsafe around him now. It was just something about the angle. I looked up and he was standing there and—” You broke off and sighed again. “I don’t know…”

Daryl leaned forward on his hands on the workbench between you. “Well, it ain’t like all that past shit just goes away,” he said. “I couldn’t do what yer doin’,” Daryl admitted. You gave him a curious look and he nodded. “If I walked him out into the woods, he wouldn’t be comin’ back.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah… Anyway, I just—I hate to ask you…” you hesitated again.

“Ask me,” he said. “It’s alrigh’.”

“Would you mind just getting lunch together and taking it to him? I think I just need a break for a little bit. Or I can ask Michonne,” you added.

“S’alrigh’. I’ve got it. Michonne is busy with the kids. Soon as I finish up in here, I’ll pull somethin’ together.”

You look relieved. “Thank you,” you sighed.

“S’nothin’,” he said. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and you could tell he was on the edge of saying something. “Ya dun have to do this, ya know. If it’s too much—he can rot in that cell for everythin’ he did. Fuck him,” Daryl said pointedly, throwing in a small smirk as he said the last two words.

You had to laugh a little at that. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay. I don’t give up that easily. I’ll be good by the time he needs his evening meal. Thanks, Daryl.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Negan looked up, hesitant, as he heard the outside door open. He was expecting to see Daryl coming in again. He couldn’t stop turning what had happened outside the walls in the morning over and over in his head. He scrutinized his own behavior and yours. He thought through all the conversations… but he’d come up empty as far as any reason as to why you’d abruptly ended the field trip or why Daryl had brought him lunch instead of you. He was annoyed by the tight pit in his stomach. His lunch sat untouched still, right where Daryl had pushed it through the slot into his cell.

But it wasn’t Daryl coming in with his dinner. It was you.

Negan had nearly jumped to his feet before he could stop himself. “Hey,” he said, the same novel dangling at his side. You stopped at the bars of his cell.

“Hi,” you greeted him. You looked down at the still full tray just inside the slot and then back up to meet his hazel eyes. “Not hungry today?” you asked, cocking one eyebrow at him.

He shrugged and took a few steps toward you. “Honestly? I was a little worried I wasn’t gonna see you again,” Negan admitted. His tone wasn’t jesting or sarcastic. “After this morning, you know… outside the walls.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding. “I see.”

He laughed a little and shook his head. “There’s that therapist response again.”

“Well, do you want this? Or should I save it for tomorrow,” you asked him, looking down at his still full tray on the floor.

“You can save it. I’ll eat my lunch. Less work for you tomorrow,” he said.

You nodded and set the tray aside on the chair outside his cell for a moment. “I have something else for you,” you said, digging into the bag hanging from your shoulder. Negan watched curiously as you withdrew several books. “I raided the library. I tried to pick some things I thought you’d like but—I realized I have no idea what you’d actually like… So. I guessed,” you said.

You gave him an expectant look and he came to the cell door. You passed each book through the bars to him one by one. Negan was highly aware of your fingers being only inches from his. He could have brushed your hand with his if he’d wanted to.

“Thanks,” he said, new books in hand. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You nodded. “I know.” Your response drew another gruff laugh from him.

“I’ll go put this aside,” you said, collecting the tray again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Negan.”

He hesitated just a moment, gulping at the lump in his throat. “You don’t need to tell me what happened out there… Of course you don’t. You don’t owe me anything. But right before, you were asking me if I missed it,” Negan said. You’d turned back to look at him again, curious. “Do I miss being the fucking King of the Castle?” He paused and his tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I do,” he admitted. “I miss the freedom. I miss people paying attention to me, listening when I fucking talk, getting me whatever the hell I want… But I don’t miss all the bullshit that came with it and what I had to do to maintain that power.”

There was a strange expression on your face and then you sighed. “I guess that’s something,” you said softly. “See you tomorrow, Negan.”

[lottiette]

Hi honey, I've been following you for a while, I love your fics, spending hours reading them. I wanted to ask you, if it's okay with you and you have time, if you would like to write another fanfiction about hort, it's so underrated, I love you, have a good day<3

Hort X Ever! Reader

Authors note: Hi Libraia thank you so much for your request! I love Hort so much I’d die for him. I hope this writing is to your liking. I know that I’m super irregular with my writing it’s because I’m lazy and never have any ideas. But hope you enjoy. I love you to have a wonderful day/night. ❤️

Warning: Book Hort/Movie Hort, swearing. Not proofread. I think that’s it.

- He first saw you at that bullshit Ever/Never meeting thing. Where the Ever boys performed and stuff.

- He saw you and a spark lit his Never heart.

- He didn’t think an Ever would ever capture his eye, but you…you were so sweet and pure. You had a genuine smile on your face.

- Of course that was only a fantasy to Hort. You would never even notice him. He was a weasel Never boy, and you were an Ever, a princess/prince who would find a perfect prince/princess.

- That was until one day at lunch. He was getting picked on for being a weasel boy who couldn’t do more than sprout two hairs of a wolf.

“What a loser.” “Sad excuse for a Never. You couldn’t scare a fly-“ The hog boy who was spouting bullshit of insults in the weasel boy’s face got hit with something. He turns around to see you standing there. “Did you throw something at me?” He growls in hatred. You throw another rock at him. “Why you-“ and another. “HEY STO-“ oh. That one got him right in his third eye. He is bleeding. “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING NOTHING BUT A BIG BULLY!” You scream. The hog boy doesn’t like that. He starts charging at you. You scream naturally, and start running. Right as the hog boy is about to grab you Hort punches him right in his big borish face. Now you’re both running. Eventually you find yourselves hiding under a bridge like hide. You stick out your hand with a smile, “I’m (Name)”

- Hort sees the nicest Ever, ever.

- He couldn’t believe that you had did that for him. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, but you stood up for him.

- From that point on Hort is even more hopelessly devoted to you. He is going to protect you from everything he can.

- He’s the big bad wolf to your riding hood (Ever After High Red)

- You eat lunch with him from that point forward.

- Of course the hog boy did come back for a round two. You guys run each time to the same spot. Until it just gets old and you punch hog boy so hard he sees star. He leaves y’all alone after that.

- Hort does the little things for you. Opens your drinks/snacks. Get you anything you want. Helps you study, does your homework. All that stuff.

- He has an ANYTHING for you mindset. And “ANYTHING” means ANYTHING! From cookie to murder. He’ll do it.

- Being in a relationship with him is very loving.

- He looks at you like you put the moon in the sky.

- He’ll support anything you do. Any hobbies, traits, or anything whatever you do.

- He likes to give you feather kisses. Like little pepper flakes.

- And LOVES cuddles. Doesn’t matter where or when he wants to be touching you. He’ll pull you into him whenever.

- Not until later into the relationship will he touch your ass. He’s not going to smack it. He has the ultimate high respect for you. He will NOT be touching without your permission.

- And even if he does get your permission he’ll be reluctant to touch you that way. He’ll be a blushing boy

- If anyone else touches you they won’t have hands to touch you with anymore.

- He will not play around when it comes to your safety.

- All the Ever boys/girls trying to flirt with you, he hates it.

- He already thinks you’re too good for him but he knows that anyone else isn’t good enough for you.

- He might get a bit insecure sometimes because he will get in his head and start thinking that maybe you should be with an Ever. That maybe they can treat you better. (They can’t)

- He’s possessive. He wants you to himself because he doesn’t trust anyone else and he isn’t losing you.

- He’s not leaving you. No matter how sad or mad you are.

- He’s not going to be the best at comforting you when sad because he’s never really experienced that but he’ll try. He wants to punch and kill your problems and he will if he can but if not he’ll cuddle you and sniff your hair.

- I think that he likes to bring you trinkets like “oh a pretty rock” or “oh a butterfly wing” just little things he finds he wants to give to you.

- I think he likes to have his hair played with.

- You two have to sneak out to meet each other.

- Most nights under the moon in the forest are more magical than the one before it. You two lay in the grass just holding onto each other and telling the other about all the things they’ve missed and whatever else

- Just let him sniff your hair, hold you, steal your items occasionally, and he’ll be just fine.

- He promises you that one day he’ll get you out of the bullshit school and give you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

[munson-blurbs]

Hi Bug <3

Here’s my Tropes-or-Treat request😁

M&Ms, Butterfinger and our dear Eddie of course 🩵 smut would be amazing 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Friends-to-Lovers/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson (also requested by @mopeymopeymouse & @lunamoons-things)

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), Reader wears a skimpy outfit, insecure Reader, Billy Hargrove is a douche, mentions of drinking, mentions of selling weed

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

“Hey.”

You almost don’t hear him over the sound of music pulsing through the stereo speakers and your own hyperfocus on the drink in your hand. Whatever’s in this jungle juice is strong, but not enough to loosen you up, it seems.

When you look up and see him, concern furrowing his brows, you only offer a weak smile and a soft, “hi.”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Eddie asks, leaning next to you, forearms pressed to the patio banister. “Hargrove’s inside.”

You wince at the mention of your boyfriend. “He’s mad at me,” you admit quietly, taking another swig from your Solo cup. Billy’s chastising words echo in your mind: no fucking fun, why can’t you be like the other girls? He was the reason you were wearing this ridiculous outfit–which was basically glorified lingerie poorly disguised as a witch costume. You feel uncomfortable and out of sorts, but Billy had insisted that you wear it, saying that he didn’t want to be the only guy at the party with a prude girlfriend.

He hadn’t noticed you before you’d started tutoring his stepsister, Max, but when he did start paying attention to you, he was a bloodhound. And after a month of secretly dating, he was finally ready to show you off.

Except…

Except the you he wanted people to see was just a facade. He didn’t want the introverted girl who preferred the company of her books and a small group of friends; he wanted someone he could dress up and parade around like a trophy. You were something he’d conquered, not someone he loved.

Eddie doesn’t ask for details; he just shrugs off his denim jacket and rests it over your bare shoulders. “I’m done selling for the night,” he reports, drumming his fingers on the tin box he uses to transport his stash. “You wanna head back to the trailer? Watch a movie and shoot the shit?”

You can’t agree fast enough, scrambling to your feet and climbing in his van. Things have been a bit strained between you two since you got with Billy, but the beauty of being Eddie’s friend is that you fall back into your usual routine without having to try. 

The ride to Forest Hills is fast, especially with Eddie driving like a madman. You both plop onto the couch, Eddie reaching for an open bag of pretzels on the side table and offering you some before taking a handful. 

“I’m so glad you’re done with that asshole,” he says with a mouthful of the snack. “No fuckin’ clue what you saw in him.” When you don’t respond, refusing to meet his gaze, he sighs. “Nope, no way. Do not tell me—”

“What other choice do I have?” you rebut. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You could be with someone who doesn’t treat you like crap!”

“Oh, yes,” you scoff, “let me just call one of my many suitors.” Making a big show of standing and traipsing over to where their phone hangs on the wall, you pick up the receiver with feigned exuberance. “That’s right—no one else wants me!” You slam the phone down and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Bullshit!” Eddie bellows, tossing the pretzel bag onto the couch and stomping towards you. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Then who—”

You don’t finish your sentence before his lips collide with yours; his hands on your hips pressing you up against the wall. You can taste the lingering cigarette smoke on his tongue; he drinks in whatever vodka-based concoction is on yours. 

He breaks away abruptly, mouth agape in disbelief. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done that.”

“‘S okay,” you mumble. “Wasn’t half bad for a pity kiss.”

“A pity—no, that wasn’t pity. That was an, ‘I’ve been wanting to do this forever’ kiss.” His fingertips brush against yours. “Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, and when you nod, he leads you to his bedroom. He waits for you to lay on the bed before climbing on top of you, knee nudged between your legs and head nestled into the crook of your neck. His fingers dip below your lace panties, and you freeze up at his touch. “We, um, we don’t have to do this,” he says hurriedly. “Just say the word.”

But you do want this; no, you need this. You need him to show you what true passion looks like, not whatever feigned version Billy had offered. As soon as you give Eddie a breathless, enthusiastic yes, he’s tugging your tiny skirt and lace panties down your legs. The cool air barely hits your pussy before his lips are on it, tongue licking up the center before finding your clit. 

A whine catches in your throat, releasing as a pathetic whimper. You’re so sensitive, so starved for touch. You’ve become acclimated to the way Billy grabs at you, pawing at your ass or breasts as a means to take what he wants, leaving you feeling used and unsatisfied. 

Eddie’s touch is vastly different. Yes, it’s fueled by sexual desire, but it’s too attentive to just be lust. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch him, doe eyes looking up at you to gauge your reaction. “Keep going,” you sigh, flopping back down on the bed, and you can feel his soft laugh on your core. 

He works meticulously, holding a steady pace as you writhe against his face. Your hands grasp the bedsheets in your fists, nearly yanking them off of the mattress as he slides a finger inside you while continuing to lightly suck on your bud. 

A second finger joins the first, pulsing in and out of you eagerly but not frantically. The combination of him filling you up and the way he so desperately craves pleasing you has you hurtling you towards orgasm. Instinctively, you press your lips together to muffle your moans, but Eddie’s having none of that.

“Wanna hear your pretty noises. Pretty noises from my pretty girl,” he says quickly, wasting no time eagerly returning to the task at hand.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming!” you cry out, arching your back as you finish. Eddie brings you down from your euphoric state with a few more kitten licks to your pussy, wiping your slick from his mouth and chin as he climbs up your body and kisses you deeply.

You run your fingers through his hair before it occurs to you: “I can return the favor.” Heat rises to your cheeks; how could you be so selfish and forget about him?

But a shake of his head and a bashful chuckle immediately quell your nerves. “‘S, uh, already taken care of.” And though his denim jeans are black, you can still spot the wet stain pooled at the seam. 

Needless to say, the thought of returning to Billy Hargrove doesn’t even cross your mind.

--

[kali-chaotic-neutral]

What you need to hear right now

Pick an outfit aesthetic and get called out by my Tarot decks

Light Academia Preppy Fairycore Coquette

Disclaimer: This tarot reading is not meant for you to make drastic choices or actions. Take this with a pinch of salt, this is just me giving advice with my sassy decks. Take the advice you want, anything that doesn't resonate, leave it.

My decks are taking turns calling you out on your bullshit, because sometimes delulu is NOT the solulu.

Light Academia:

What is your relationship with money? No, seriously. You're saving and saving money and not using it. And that's good. But there's a thin line between being frugal/not wasting your money and willingly hoarding. The former is being more smart and saving up to benefit you in the future, but the latter comes more from anxiety and fear. You don't want to buy things or spend some money in fear of loosing everything. Hoarding and having this paranoia over money will end up in you loosing it all as the universe will see you unhappy over the money you have that it will take it back and not give it. Not because you don't deserve it, but because the universe thinks that this wealth and money that you're hoarding is putting you in a bad place and it doesn't want that.

Why are you so nervous and hesitant to reveal your projects? It could be a book you're writing, poems, art, anything. Your fear of failure and eventually not letting others see your work will lead to what you fear. Failing. I was there in that place, darling. I feared people would judge me because of what I wrote, how I wrote. Then I showed a couple of my friends and teachers and they LOVED IT! People might not like it, but that doesn't they'll hate it. You'll never you know until you try.

How long are you going to hold onto the fear of failure or maybe years ago when you did fail in something that caused that fear? How long are you going to let the past drag you down? Hold you back from being the writer, the poet, the artist that you are!? The fear will always be there, but would you rather be in a a perpetual state of fear and anxiety or be someone that doesn't have regrets. Because there will be if you hold yourself back like this. Oh, why did I not just enter that poetry contest? Why did I not just show my art to others? Why did I not... Why didn't I... Regrets. Do you want a future full of regrets? No? Change.

You have a habit of being a big talker. Oh, I'll publish my book when I 'm 25. Oh, I'll go to the best art college. Oh this and that and that. But do you work hard to achieve those? I'm a big talker too, I had troubles working up as well. My 11th grade AS Level exams were a wake up call for me. I've passed and am on my way to a good college in a few months. Work hard and smart, don't keep flapping your gums dreaming big. It won't come true unless you work hard enough for it. You're also focusing too hard in perfecting your work to your detriment. Trying to perfect things almost always lead to it being even worse than before. Leave your projects as they are and let someone else, someone you trust look at it. Let them give you input and comments on your work, take those comments as ways to make your work better. Not as flaws they notices.

Once you fix all this shit up, work on yourself and your fears, fast change and movement will come. Maybe you'll finally get into that art college or college. Maybe you'll get that scholarship. But good change is coming. Don't read this and go: oh, good change is coming, I'll just relax a bit—NO!! If you do this the change will be for the worse. The universe will be sending you lessons after lessons if you slack off. Not until you're well off and in that dream house and job.

Slack off and my cards can see bad luck coming, you might lose people in your life due to conflict. Nothing good. There will be family issues that will need your attention, maybe someone is sick or just not feeling well mentally. If you actually work hard, I can see you becoming emotionally mature, and a good and loving figure to yourself and others.

Preppy:

Why are you putting more on your plate than you can eat? Why are you willingly allowing your workload to get heavier and heavier? You're overworked, on the brink of a burn out and yet you're here panicking and loosing sleep over the burden of projects and work you've put upon yourself. Put the other projects aside, do the most important one. And now, I know there is one project that is more important than the others. Evaluate the significance of the work you're doing and do the most important ones. One by one. Don't multitask darling. And stop overburdening yourself. You're letting obstacles get in the way and thus loosing discipline over yourself and loosing sight of your real goal. Take back the reins and steady yourself, focus on the path you want to take and go there.

Due to doing the exact amount of work you're supposed to be, you're able to solely focus on your projects. Cultivating it and making it better and successful. And I can see this as a time of celebration. BUT. Don't let it get to your head. Because if you do and you get cocky, fortune will not favor you. When things go downhill for you, learn from your mistakes and ensure it doesn't happen again.

You're not letting change take place. You're refusing to let this chapter of your life end, because you're afraid what the next chapter holds. LET GO!! Stop trying to extend the pages of this chapter. IT"S OVER. The more you resist, the more the situation will drag and drag. Universe has your back no matter how stubborn you are.

You're doubting yourself. This is impeding you being able to fulfil your highest potential and be your best self. Take a small break from whatever you're doing. Reflect, self evaluate. I've recently begun doing shadow work every night before bed, 3 questions max (you can find on Pinterest) and I do a gratitude journal every morning when I wake up (bullet list of what I'm grateful for). Limit and stop your inner critic, because you become what you think. If someone grows up being called an idiot they'll always think they're an idiot. It won't matter if a few teachers of peers say they're surprisingly smart. Change your mindset, be kinder to yourself. It isn't easy. But you'll get there.

If you continuously drag the past and your insecurities with you, it will lead to more stressful situations, more sadness, failure, a place where you'll be forced to choose. if you don't let these drag you down, you will become the highest version of yourself and someone who is successful and confident and powerful.

Fairycore:

You're not listening to your intuition, or your inner voice. Your intuition is important and should be heard. Maybe you're ignoring red flags in a person, or a situation. You're not listening to yourself and that is not good. You're not facing your inner world or your inner truth. Not wanting to accept or listen, not sure. But it isn't going to do you any good. Withdrawing from your inner world will lead to disbalance. Turn towards your inner self, take care of it. Focus on which part of your life is being unattended, care for it.

You're trying too hard to fit in with the crowd. Going along with the trends, doing what everyone else does, and nothing is wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with going with the flow and doing what is familiar to you, just don't put too much effort into it. Like you know the long line for Stanley Cups? (I think that's what they're called) Like don't be that desperate and plain like the others.

There will be burdens on your mind/mental health due to neglecting your inner voice and thoughts. You will end up bursting and exploding one day and it will lead to guilt and embarrassment. This will lead to you withdrawing within yourself, not wanting to go out. You'll feel tempted to give up and withdraw into yourself. Don't. Plan strategically, be aware of people around you that may not have your best interests at heart. Don't trust blindly, listen to your intuition and gut feeling. Listen and plan.

Once you begin strategically and logically planning, you will be successful (financially) and there will be better relationships in your life (platonic, romantic, etc.) You life will be more harmonious and calm and pleasant and once you've dealt with the people who don't have your best interest at heart, new better friendships will come. SO DON"T GIVE UP B*TCH!!!

Coquette:

You're frustrated because an idea for a project that you have, is not really having the breakthrough that you hoped it would. You're exasperated, tired and annoyed. I would be too. But it won't get better the more annoyed you get. Go back to the planning books/board and read over what you had planned. Proofread it, cut out a few things, add a few things, change a few things. Don't let frustration get to you here. It happens to all of us. The project simply needs a tweak. You're ambition has lead you to rush with this project, that's why it's not going the way you want it to. You've rushed the planning, so the project will be that way. Unsatisfactory. Don't rush headlong into these things, take time to prepare and plan the foundations of the project. It's almost like you're trying to grow up fast. And that's not good. Don't rush the process. Enjoy your life as it is now, before adulthood comes with its imposing responsibilities and expectations. Otherwise you'll live a life looking back into your childhood with regrets.

Because of this regret or stress from jumping into things rashly, it could lead to unhealthy addictions. You falling into darker thoughts. This could lead to times of confusion, where you're lying to yourself. Being delulu and trying to convince yourself it's not that bad. Change. Don't let your delusions get ahold of you, take a break from what you're doing and re-evaluate your work. Once re-evaluated and proper change brought, I can see you getting everything you've ever tried manifesting.

there could be a male figure (either a partner/brother or friend) will be a great help to you in financial matters. Maybe even a beginning of a romance if it is a friend and if it is a partner, maybe your love life will take a next step. ONLY if you work on the issues I've stated

[annie-creates]

Stupid test mark

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader (platonic)

Genre: fluff

Words: 800

Note: This request probably took me longer than it shoud have but I hope you'll still like it. Thank you so much for trusting me with it.

The school year was nearing it’s end, which meant the professors put twice as much pressure on you. You could hardly count all the assignments and tests in the last few weeks. You wanted to do good, even better since you studied at the school of evil and it’s students were notoriously known for bad grades and behavior. You wanted to get all the best marks and shove it down the good students’ throats. Your striving was deemed half useless by the grade you got in deadly potions class however. You did your best to study and prepare for the exam, but apparently your best still wasn’t good enough to get at least a C+.

It was all you could think about when you read your books long into the night or absentmindedly rummaged through the food on your plate. Even your skin got paler than usual thanks to the lack of sleep and nutrition. Something the Evers picked on you for. As you went from one class to another, you could hardly pay attention being too concerned with what other grades and classes you could screw up in. You didn’t want your overall mark to drop even more, yet every time you tried to focus on your studies the C- was right in front of your eyes, mocking you and reminding you that you failed and will never be good enough again.

“Y/l/n!” Lady Lesso slammed her cane into your table startling you. “Would you mind paying attention in my class!?”

“I… I’m sorry miss.” You were too intimidated to even look her in the eyes, opting to point your sight into the table instead.

“Eyes on the blackboard.” She warned you, not in the mood to have to reprimand you again.

You did what she said, keeping your eyes on the lecture even through the stinging feeling in them. The last thing you wanted was to disappoint your dean. You already felt like a failure, you didn’t need anyone else to think so about you too. You wanted people to be proud of you, to say “this Never made it in life”. You wanted to be adored and admired, not made fun of and picked on. This all swirled in your mind so loudly you didn’t even notice the ring bell announcing the end of class.

“Y/n?” Lady Lesso called out to you with a noticeably lighter tone. “You seem to be quite unpresent today. Mind enlightening me on why that is?”

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. I didn’t want to get distracted in your class.” You tried to avoid any confrontation.

“Nonsense. You are one of my best students and you always pay attention, what got you so unfocused?” Lesso pressed you a bit.

“Well… I got a really bad grade from my potions exam. I studied really hard, but turns out my best isn’t good enough. I’m a failure.” You admitted avoiding her sight.

“Oh my. Do you think I’m bad at my job?” The dean challenged you with a pointed look.

“Uh, what? No, of course not!” How could she think that based on what you said?

“Then where do you get the audacity to say that the best of my Nevers is a failure?” she folded her hands over her chest.

“Um… I… I don’t…” you were at a complete loss of words.

“Don’t you ever think about saying such bullshit again.” Lesso put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize for like a third time in the last five minutes.

“You are one of the most talented Nevers I’ve seen in a long time. You could be the reason Evil strikes a win once again. I know that’s a lot of pressure for a young mind like yours, but I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t convinced you can handle it.” Lady Lesso declared with a deep look straight into your eyes.

“I… thank you Lady Lesso.” You didn’t really know what to say to all the expectations she had from you, but you hoped to live up to them.

“There’s no need to thank me. You have great things ahead of you, things some stupid test mark can’t take away.” She winked at you, building your confidence up. “Now, I want you to forget about some foolish potions class and focus on the things you have coming up. I have no doubt you’ll be graduating this year on the top of your class with the progress you’ve made.”

“I will. Thank you.” You nod with a sincere smile and leave her class much more enthusiastic.

If Lady Lesso thought you are the one to do great things in life, who were you to say otherwise? She surely must know what she’s talking about.

[sgiandubh]

Saw your comment: "We're not all thirsty mommies, nor 12, nor bitter bitches. I'd love to see and hear more about what is beneath that mask, not beneath that shirt." Sam has done that before. He wrote an entire book about his journey but the book is called bullshit and he a liar. He's written well-thought out articles and forewords to books. He speaks intelligently and passionately and knowledgably about his liquors and the process of getting to market, and is called a shill. His work with Prickly Thistle is expensive and taking peoples' money, even when it helped this woman-owned mill immensely. It goes on and on. Today he's been accused of hypocrisy for a plastic cup, thirst trapping to change a conversation and using his social media as a PR tool to fool gullible women. Some may want to see beneath the mask but when he's shown what he is willing to you get the above.

Dear Hypocrisy Anon,

Thank you for your thoughts. I have read your long comment very carefully and let's say I agree with about 85% of it. The itching point is, of course, the book: Waypoints is a good ghostwritten memoir I have commented at length, with a more benevolent view than most of those who found it took some substantial liberty with what they (and I, for that matter) think it's the current state of play in SC Land. Note I am not saying the truth: that's only for Them to know, not for us. So dismissing it and calling everything a lie is a bit of a stretch. It's just a memoir, to be followed by other projects, other books. And who knows, another memoir, later on, where he could correct the course again at his convenience. He's only 43. Give the man some credit.

Trouble is, the world is a vast and diverse place. It's not just this fractured fandom. If he wants to remain relevant beyond OL, he needs, in my humble opinion, two things: a) to score a big role in a big budget production, which would improve his notoriety and help him reach a different public and b) curate his personal image a bit more and get out of this midlife crisis fake character he's peddling around. The only people who find it interesting are the thirsty mommies in *urv's crowd and that's, uhm... a bit irrelevant, in the big scheme of things.

So, no more political blunders, please and thank you. Shut the hell up and play Switzerland on complicated and divisive society issues which can get one in boiled water for a comma. Carefully picked and curated CSR projects, he'd ideally be more actively involved in. And yes, maybe a bit more transparency on the so many great things he does, like that partnership with the Edinburgh's Youth Theatre he didn't even mention himself or include in his stories (no doubt, out of a very British and endearing sense of modesty). And always remember: when faced with something beautiful and fragile, like that story, people will try their best to smear it and break it. I am not bitter, just realistic.

Same goes for your conclusion: I am sure many would like to see more of what is beneath that mask. It's too bad that a bunch of bitter, nasty, clueless, but also very noisy women occupy a bigger part of the stage than they should.

But have faith, Anon. For the moment, all of this is nothing what a good PR, not the clowns he obviously hired, can't fix with relative ease. Trust me. I've seen way worse. And remember, always remember what dear Wilde (God, I love that soul!) said: 'every saint has a past and every sinner has a future'.

You just gave me an idea for a future post and for this, I thank you, Anon. But for now, I have to catch up on a thing or two, rather than determine the morality of a plastic glass. I hope this long answer helps somewhat. Thank you for dropping by: it was a pleasure reading your musings.

[harcove]

Stargazer - B.H.

a/n not a request, because... idk man, i have so many things im in the middle of writing for billy rn, and i had this one in my noggin for a while because i swear i remember somewhere dacre said smthing about it would be cool to see another side of billy- like with a girl just... in a field- cuties. or maybe... i made that up in my head besties idk, but here u go

length: 2.6k

pairing: billy x reader

warnings: no; mention maybe of billy's father and to trauma/abuse. maybe badly written billy im not too confident with this one lmao

summary: billy and you sneak into the hawkins high school football field and look at the stars

The air outside was considerably cooler than it had been during the day, and even then it had already been rather nippy out. The autumn air crisp as the months crawled slowly towards December, towards winter. Maybe a bit chilly for you to be laying in an open field in the middle of the night, but Billy Hargrove didn't seem to care; especially not when he was the one who snuck the two of you into Hawkins High schools football field.

You weren't even sure you had a football team. It was used for soccer and running track. It would be better to refer to it as a soccer field.

"Goddamn it's fucking cold," Billy grumbles, as he jumps down the fence, watching as you take the easier route (for you at least); the small hole that the school had yet to repair in the fencing in a bottom corner; too small for Billy to fit through, but just big enough you could wriggle your way through, "mind reminding me why I agreed to this bullshit?"

"I dunno," the smile is evident in your voice as you finally end up on the right side of the fence, picking yourself up off the dirt ground as Billy looks down at you, hands in his pockets. You use his bent arm to pull yourself up and you can feel the way he stiffens his body to compensate for the weight of your pulling, so neither of you fall, "But it's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" his brows raise almost comically, and he blinks; his bright blue eyes looking at you like you're insane, "Not that fuckin' bad, huh?"

He breathes out, a bit harsher on purpose, and a plume of air appears in front of the two of you. It's just cold enough that your breath can be seen in front of you, like tiny little clouds of mist; a constant and subtle reminder that the seasons were close to changing once more, Autumn would soon blend into Winter.

Also, a constant reminder for Billy that he was no longer in California.

The sudden thought put a damper on his mood and it was visible in his body language and facial expressions. Billy Hargrove was so much more of an open-book than he realized sometimes. When it came to emotions like anger, or hatred, they showed themselves like black ink on a white page; strikingly. They were two emotions that coincided with one another; and they were the emotions he felt most often and most deeply. Being sad was weak (his father really beat that into him, physically and metaphorically) and being happy? He wasn't sure he could feel happy anymore. Too much anger. Too much hatred.

But then, when he looks at you, everything felt less harsh- his chest doesn't feel as heavy, his body isn't as on fire from a rage deep within; and there is something there. Something that maybe could be happiness. If he let it build, if he worked on it. If he just let it happen.

Easier said than done.

You can feel the way Billy slips away from the moment, noticing the way the dirty blonde sunk deeper into his own head, his face losing any of it's previous sarcasm and maybe even slight amusement, you clear your throat. Better than touching him, because you can't really be sure where his thoughts are in these moments exactly, and you'd seen more than enough to know what his father is like.

"Yeah, not that bad," you repeat, a sly smirk graces your lips as you walk backwards from him, taking big steps to reach the wide open field, your eyes adjusted to the darkness at this point, "you're just being a baby."

Mission successful. Even at the distance you've created between the two of you, you can see the way his face morphs. It's not anger, not like some might think it would be at being called a name; it's light-hearted when you say it, and only you can say it. He'll get back at you. He always does. Sometimes sooner rather than later; and now it's sooner.

The sound that comes from his lips isn't exactly a laugh, it's more of a scoff; a laugh of disbelief as he watches you get further away. His tongue juts out, wetting his lips, a slight shake of his head; eyes zoning in on you perfectly.

"Baby?" he sounds defiant, mock-angry. You just shrug your shoulders, shouting back at him, 'yeah' before waving your arms in the air, "You're fuckin' asking for it."

Billy is fast. He would be, considering how he likes to work out and stay fit; his place on the basketball team for Hawkin's high school shines through in moments like this where he starts running towards you; in turn you turn to face forward, starting to run yourself towards the centre of the field. It's a futile effort to run from Billy Hargrove. He's always going to catch you. He's fast. And he doesn't let up.

You squeal when he suddenly grabs you, slamming his body into your own with his arms around your middle, picking you up with easy and throwing himself onto the ground with you to boot. The laughter bubbles up in your throat as you try to catch your breath, winded and filled with adrenaline. You can hear it before you see it; the laugh from him, the smile in his laugh. It's not a laugh like yours, one that is full-bodied and hard to catch your breath too- it's more like a burst of laughter that he brings back down to control. But it's still a laugh.

You've heard it before. But never like this. He's laughed when he's been angry, he's laughed but it's been fake and calculated. But now he laughs and it isn't thought out beforehand. It isn't in disbelief or anger.

His strength and heavy-handedness is only amplified when he tosses you off him from where he took the brunt of his purposeful fall to the ground, quickly flipping you over without much time for you to think about what's happening. It's only when he's hovering over you with a hand digging into your hip- not enough to hurt you, but enough to know damn well it's there.

"Now," he breathes out, his warm breath a stark contrast from the crisp autumn night, "What was it you called me...?"

Mischief swims in your eyes as you stare directly into the prettiest blue you think you've ever seen. Everything about Billy is pretty. He is so beautiful, in every way, but he hates when you say that. He prefers words like hot, or sexy. But he can't hide his red tipped ears when you say he's beautiful or pretty.

He deserves to know he's not just some object for women to oggle at. He's a beautiful human being. He's Billy.

"Ba...by," you huff out, still trying to catch your breathe. The rise and fall of you chest makes contact with Billy's, showing just how close he is to you right now.

His lips crash onto yours. Hungry. Heavy. Angry? No... Needy. But also, vengeful. If you weren't already winded, you are definitely winded now as all thoughts escape you; the need to breathe becoming a secondary thought. Why breathe when you have him? He makes you feel alive. He makes all the bad things in Hawkins just... Stop. Like the stars in the sky, he may disappear, he might go away for some time but he's still always there. He's...

He bits into your lip.

It elicits a muffled cry from you as you push against his chest, his mouth leaving yours.

And he has the audacity to look at you, mock-confusion on his face, breathing much more normal paced compared to your own. It makes you wanna pinch him. But you don't, instead you settle on glaring at him in the dark.

"Someone's being a baby," he throws it back at you with ease, rolling off you when you push him off. To be fair, you didn't have the strength to push him off, he's just giving you one by rolling off of you anyways. A thump when he hits the grass beside you.

Pouting is useless since he can't even see it now that he's looking at the sky, but you do it anyway. It's the principle of the thing you suppose.

It's quiet. The only sound being a cricket here or there, and the sound of your breathing mixed with his own. Your finally able to regulate your breathing and bring it back to normal. You wish you had a drink, but that's not a big deal for now. The cool air entering your lungs feels good, a balm to the burn from your previous silliness.

"At least your warm now, right?" You offer up the words after a few more beats of silence.

He snorts.

"There's better ways to get warm and stay warm."

You know what he's implying and you hit his shoulder softly with your fingers.

"No. Not in public."

He doesn't respond to that. He really would do anything with you right there, but contrary to what others seemed to believe, he was rather respectful of your boundaries when it came to these things. That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease you.

"Can't believe I'm with a goddamn prude. Its the middle of the damn night."

Like that.

"It's not being a prude!" You focus your attention on the sky, "now just... Look."

He lets out a heavy breath.

The reason you wanted to come out here in the first place. The night sky, filled with stars.

Hawkins wasn't a big city or more populated place like California, it was a small town. Light pollution wasn't really a thing here as it would be in big cities. You took it for granted till you visited your aunt and uncle one year in New York, where the light pollution was rampant. Seeing a star there was nigh impossible.

But Hawkins? The sky was littered with so many little stars, stars you could see perfectly. You could make out some and the vast dark that went on forever. It made you feel oddly melancholic. Sometimes you wished you could reach up, touch them, and join them up there. So small in the grand scheme of things. A reminder of just how large the universe was. Just how... Insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

And that was okay. Sometime, you need to be reminded that you're just one person in a world of billions, you're small, and not everything needs to be on your shoulders.

You wanted Billy to feel that. Feel the weight of the world drift away as the stars reminded you, you're only human. Just a small, little human.

"That's the big dipper," you reach your arm up to point at the cluster of stars forming the measuring cup like shape in the sky, "I only know it because it was the only one I could find when I was a kid."

"Still the only one you can find?"

"Uh, no," you matter-of-factly say, moving to point towards another cluster, "there's the little dipper."

"Damn," he mocks, "the little one too?"

You giggle, wiggling closer to Billy's side, seeking his warmth and just his presence in general.

"Still don't get why we couldn't do this when it's warmer. I'm not giving you my damn jacket, you still haven't given me back the other fucking one."

That's true. But he doesn't complain too much. You always bring it back to him, and it somehow always ends up back with you anyways.

"Because, you can see the stars better when it's colder."

"Bullshit," you see his breath when he speaks, "That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."

"No its not!" You don't actually know that. You just said it, because you've always found you see the stars the best when it's colder. Maybe it's because you usually look up at the sky most during this time of year, when the sky darkens so much quicker than in the summer.

Once more, the conversation lulls to a stop, it's a easy silence that settles between you, one that feels comfortable and safe. Something about being with Billy feels safe, it always does. You can only hope that it's the same for him; that being with you is a safe place for him. Or someday, it will be.

He deserves at least one person, one place, in his life that's safe.

You wriggle close enough to the man that you can rest your head on his shoulder and you do so with ease, but you can feel his shoulder stiffen for a moment before it relaxes. It's just you. He's fine with you.

Much to your pleasure he moves the arm of the shoulder you placed your head on out from beneath you, snaking it around your shoulder to force you closer to him with a single tug. It brings you close enough to Billy that your practically on top of him. When you settle yourself comfortably, one leg hiked up across his torso, with your body pressed against his side and your head close to his heart- his hand leaves your shoulder and travels to your waist. He squeezes the flesh on your hip, causing you to jump slightly.

You know he enjoys how you react.

And you like how it feels.

Laying there, beside him, felt right. It felt like this was where you were meant to be. The cold air didn't matter, the hard grass beneath you didn't change anything. It felt so cliché, to lay under the stars beside a handsome boy- the quote en quote bad boy, as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

You really felt you could stay there forever. Be with him forever.

"You fallin' asleep?" When he speaks you feel the vibrations from his chest, "you fall asleep, your on your damn own."

He doesn't mean that. You know that, he knows that. You breathe in his cologne, savouring it before releasing a long breathe.

"I'm not... I'm just," you pause, voice quiet, strikingly different to how it had been before when you were running from him as a joke. If it wasn't so quiet already, your voice may have been carried away with the wind, "Happy."

You aren't surprised when at first, Billy has nothing to say to that.

Billy is turning this over in his head. Happy. You were... Happy. Happy to be there with him, happy to lay on a dirt and grass in the middle of the night with him. Happy. You were happy.

He didn't think he could make anyone happy. That anyone could be happy with him. It was scary. It scared him; how long could he keep that going? How long till something happened, till he did something and ruined everything. Before he ruined your happiness; ruined you. Was it selfish for him to keep you with him, even knowing that he could ruin everything? Was it unfair to want to have you despite his own fears and issues... Maybe, but Billy Hargrove did not care.

He'd be as selfish as he damn pleased.

"A prude, and a goddamn crackpot. At least you're easy to please."

You swear you can hear a soft edge in his voice as he speaks, even if it's hard to catch, like it's barely there. But you can hear it. You pull yourself closer to him, if it's even possible to do at this point.

Yeah, you think, you could stay there forever with him. And he thinks, maybe he could too.

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 30: Smut Themed Sentence Starters

I ended up using two sentences: "Who needs a sleigh ride when I can ride you instead" and "Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

Tags: Established Relationship, Implied Smut, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Eddie Munson Is A Menace, Steve Harrington Is A Romantic

wc: 1345 | Rating: M

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve is a hopeless romantic.

Always has been and probably always will be.

Eddie pretends to hate it, but Steve knows the truth. That under all that leather and loud music is a giant teddy bear who swoons every time Steve shows up with a fresh bouquet of flowers or a pack of his favorite cigarettes from Melvalds.

Everyone else may be fooled, but not Steve.

Which is why Steve has to pull out all the stops for their first winter together as a couple.

He set the bar high last year when they were just friends and now he has to top it. Not because Eddie’s expecting it or anything, but because he wants to. Eddie deserves it. And honestly, so does Steve.

After watching hours of romantic holiday movies and driving around the local towns to see what winter activities they have to offer, Steve draws up the plan. He rents a small cabin two towns over where the snow is already two feet deep with more on the way and buys tickets to all the fun events the town has to offer. Well, almost all of the events. Ice skating is out of the question after last year’s incident left them both battered, bruised, and so sore they could barely get out of their own beds for the Hopper-Byers New Year’s Eve party.

So far, the vacation is everything Steve hoped it would be. They’ve played in the snow, eaten the best apple pie he’s ever gotten his hands on, and strolled around town whispering judgments about the over-the-top Christmas decorations people have outside their houses. They’ve also made themselves comfortable in the cabin — breaking in the bed and the couch and maybe even the indoor hot tub once or twice.

But today is the real showstopper. The grand finale to their little winter weekend getaway and the entire reason Steve booked this place in the first place.

They’re going on a reindeer-pulled sleigh ride through the picturesque snowy terrain of the town.

Or at least they’re supposed to be going on a reindeer-pulled sleigh ride.

“What do you mean you double booked?”

“It seems we accidentally scheduled you and another party for the two o’clock sleigh ride,” the woman behind the counter says. She’s older, graying hair pulled back in a neat bun and thin glasses falling down the bridge of her nose. Steve glares as her lips turn up in what is supposed to be an apologetic smile as she continues. “Since the other party included children, we assumed you wouldn’t mind giving up your spot for a refund.”

“Well, you assumed wrong,” Steve snaps, hands slamming down on the desk a bit more forceful than he had hoped. “You didn’t even give me a courtesy call to let me know of the cancelation.”

“We were just about to do that.”

“Bullshit! My reservation was scheduled for ten minutes ago. If you were going to call you would have done it the moment you realized your mistake.”

“I am sorry for the inconvenience Mr. Harrington but we only realized the error when the other family checked in early.”

“So if I was allowed to check in early like I tried to do, you would have let us keep our reservation?” Steve asks, growing more and more irritated by the second.

He and Eddie have been freezing their balls off for almost an hour now outside of the rustic shop. Even bundled up in their winter coats, beanies, and hand-knitted scarf and mitten set from Claudia hasn't been enough to keep them warm. It’s why he sent Eddie off in the direction of the hot chocolate stand while he tried to work his charm and get them into an earlier slot.

“Well, no, that’s not what I’m saying, but—“

“This is ridiculous,” Steve huffs, tugging at the hem of his scarf. “I booked this trip specifically for this sleigh ride and now you’re telling me I can’t go on it.”

“I understand your disappointment Mr. Harr—“

“Stop calling me that!” If there’s one thing Steve hates more than being unjustly inconvenienced it’s being referred to be his surname. He doesn’t need to be reminded of the man he shares his name with. Not now, not ever.

“Um, sorry…” the woman trails off and glances down at her schedule. “Steve. I can offer you a voucher for the trouble. Unfortunately, we are booked up for the rest of the week.”

“Keep the voucher and shove it,” Steve hisses before shoving himself away from the counter.

It takes him a minute to reign in his anger as he stomps his way toward Eddie. He’s sitting on a bench holding two cups of hot chocolate. Judging by the way his body shivers, they’re not doing much to keep him warm.

“Uh oh,” Eddie says, setting the cups aside when Steve gets closer. “I don’t like that frown.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. Gladys over there fucked with our reservation,” Steve sneers, plopping down on the bench. “Said they doubled booked us and voided our reservation to give to some couple with kids because she “figured I wouldn’t mind.” Of course, I fucking mind!”

“Oh sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, tugging Steve until he’s tucked securely under his left arm. “M’sorry. She sounds like a bitch.”

“Those kids aren’t even going to remember the sleigh ride when they’re older! But we would have!”

Eddie nods in agreement, nuzzling his cheek into the soft cotton of Steve’s beanie. The contact is almost enough to extinguish Steve’s anger. Almost.

“Now the vacation is ruined.”

“And you say I’m a drama queen,” Eddie teases, pulling away and twisting on the bench to face Steve. He tucks one leg under him and lets the other dangle off the bench before joining their hands together as best he can given they’re still wearing mittens. “Our vacation is not ruined. It’s been fun. Maybe our best one yet.”

“Yeah, well it could have been even better.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie tsks, squeezing his hand. “Who needs a sleigh ride when I can ride you instead.”

“Eddie!” Steve gapes. He can feel what little heat is in his body crawling its way to his cheeks, turning them a bright shade of red if he had to guess.

“Or you could ride me,” Eddie says, before leaning forward. He gets his lips on the shell of Steve’s ear before continuing, “You know I’m not picky.”

Suddenly the blood rushing to his face takes a detour traveling down, down, down until it settles in his dick. Steve can feel it twitch at Eddie’s word and the feeling of his warm breath against his ear.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie hums, glancing around to make sure no one is watching them before letting his hand drift to Steve’s lap. He moves slowly at first, teasing him until his hand finally settles on the apparent bulge in his pants.

“M’ you like it though, don’t ya big boy,” Eddie says, giving an experimental squeeze before pulling his hand away completely. When Steve looks up, he’s staring at him with those big round mischievous eyes of his. “Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Steve groans both in pleasure and in exasperation. He buries his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck for a moment before pulling away. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Hey, it put a smile on your face didn’t it.”

It did. Though, if he’s honest with himself, Eddie always puts a smile on his face. Even when he’s being an annoying, teasing, little shithead. Leaning forward to close the distance, Steve gives him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“Christ, your lips are freezing.”

“Better take me inside and warm me up.”

Steve gets himself on his feet before turning around to offer a hand to Eddie. “Come on then, I think I know just how to get you nice and warm, baby.”

[shygirl4991]

SMG3 Sussy Notebook

ima tag smg3 sussy notebook spoilers and have the pics of the notebook under read more so you can pick if ya wanna see the notebook! These are highlights and not every page!

now that we have the pw for club penguin we can all log in and get all the cool skins, honestly i feel if mario just guess the password it wouldnt take him long to get it xD be faster then stealing the notebook and all

ah yes the start of the worlds longest slowburn its a super funny thought that right out the usb he gets his notebook and goes this bitch here ima make him my life rival

oh shit shout out to these two that showed up in SMG3 Gauntlet of gloom

suuuure buddy keep telling yourself that, seems even tho SMG3 marked him as his rival and hated him over what happen in college he still wanted to hang out with 4 and be friends but its not like he cares or anything...baka!

lmao the censor on what happen in the igloo ah yes nothing but hugging happen there nothing to M rated xD im guessing the real book in universe might have it a bit more detail given the big deal it was for wotfi 2023

we really dont talk about that hug

did...did i call it in my fic that this man legit is crazy about beans and hot sauce im dying i guess when your the bad guy with low budget for food you get use to the good classic beans and hot sauce

oh honey thats not how that works xD this man is smart but also oh so dumb i think he gets that from his avatar that and he is a few years fresh from the usb Update: @alianarepasa let me know its from a mad max episode i manage to miss it was a fun watch and now i understand what this means xD these peeps really went wild without internet poor toad

pifft im guessing he has masters degree specialized in psychology? other wise idk how he is a psychologist and he seems to be a good one from what we have seen but who knows he could be bullshitting his way through how evil xD

both our boys are ready to ride forklifts into the sunset someone draw this please xD

im laughing i guess SMG3 isnt much a fan of boopkins but seems he really enjoys being with the crew he wont say it but im sure he is a happy bean to finally be with the cool kids after years of being jealous.

he says but give this man eggdog or eggdog memes and he becomes Tari in a second

hey lads we found the page from SMG4 We Dont Talk About What Happened in the Elevator

he wants a castle but ended up with a sick lair in a coffee shop i think thats better!

okay putting my shipping heart away this is so interesting to me like he starts off thinking 4 is a loser and makes him his rival then gets jealous he has these friends and he isnt apart of them. We know SMG3 is lonely and lost as he doesn't know his purpose before becoming lord of the graveyard now being apart of the crew and now knowing who is he, SMG3 is much happier and closer to the crew. But the way he writes this feels like he likes the close contact with 4 and while he doesnt want to admit it could it be he legit does have romantic feelings? idk i feel these past episodes and this part really gets me thinking they have something here to really make smg34 canon naturally and not have the way they act with each other be to different might go more into this later.

this sparks joy thank you for including this and thats it for my ted talk thanks for reading again this is just my highlights i dont want to post the whole notebook here just stuff that gets my mind going!

[bonefall]

How are we feeling at the book finale? Because outside of the Sunbeam girlboss moment telling Berryheart just how bad of a family she was AND maybe possibly foreshadowing her rejecting Nightheart, I think we miiiight get some more Dark Forest cats than planned before :D (also I may be wrong but- didn't Podlight have children? Would he even be eligible as Medicine Cat in BB?)

Podlight's totally eligible in BB! He has no canon children and I didn't give him any. In BB there's also an interesting quirk in that Podlight is notoriously Mistystar's... not EXACTLY a good-for-nothing grandson, but a bit of a "fratboy" working through daddy issues. Is is extra funny for this cat to be a villain lmao.

Also: Better Bones RiverClan Family Tree

Anyway... my thoughts on the spoiler thread's ending. Mostly negative, unfortunately. I am really hoping that a lot of this is misrepresentation.

I've enjoyed every book of ASC that's come out so far, but if this thread is accurate, this is going to be the first one that I actively dislike. It sounds like there was a serious nosedive in quality.

ON THE ENDING; Park Cats, and The Berryheart Gathering.

Park Cats.

It is profoundly frustrating to me that we had TWO traveling books in this arc. Do they not know by now that traveling books are widely detested for a reason??

Frostpaw and Nightheart were AWAY FROM THE CONFLICT for most of this book, what the fuck?

The plot barely advanced at all. There's been one major conflict in this entire arc, the invasion of RiverClan, and we are 4/6ths of the way through without any other major battles. This is boring.

Riverstar is a major character through this bullshit, now with a magical perfect connection to Frostpaw through plot convenience so he can give her tutorial tips, because GOD FORBID we have a more grounded story for once. I'm so sick of DOTC fanservice. Was a super edition not enough?!

And speaking of Riverstar's Home, they pretty clearly ripped a lot of inspiration out of it. Frostpaw and Nightheart go on a journey with random human-related shenanigans before finding a cardboard cutout of a culture

I'm not gonna lie guys. I do not like the Park Cats. I HAVE TO SAY; It's a step in the right direction

They are not demonized. They are treated as good and legitimate. They are seen as having wisdom and living peacefully.

This is Good. This is Fine.

(im still kind of mad they needed riverstar to come save them back in riverstar's home, like every non-clan culture does apparently, but HOKAY fine ok it's fine)

.....butt.

They're boring. guys, they have one thing that is unique to them, and it's meditation. They live in perfect peace and harmony. there's nothing there.

It's easy to be a perfect, peaceful society if you have no conflict ever.

IF THE SPOILER THREAD IS ACCURATE, we don't see them address strife, how they DO handle disputes, what DOES happen when a cat engages in "criminality," or even really see what their spiritual beliefs are besides "meditating"

And that's why the idea of Frostpaw taking away a good lesson from living with them strikes me as so hollow. WHAT is she taking from them? JUST vague, quiet meditation?? Why couldn't Riverstar just magically teach her that?

It also bothers me that this culture is exactly the same as it was in Riverstar's Home. It's in stasis. Nothing has changed, nothing has grown, they haven't picked up new customs. They don't even seem to have their own history besides remembering that Riverstar showed up generations ago.

It's not a culture, it's a plot device.

I swear, I'm really trying to like them, but RH left this really sour taste in my mouth and them showing up again in this book has only made me more frustrated.

I AM happy that we're going to maybe start trying to address the violence of Clan Culture, but it is coming in the middle of a book where nothing fucking happens, and they're starting to fumble the bag on the xenophobic radicalization that I'd been praising in the past few books

And by that, I'm referring to...

Berryheart's Gathering

through the books so far, I've been praising the slow rise of tension coming from the radicalized members of ShadowClan.

I think the way that Berryheart and her little Concern Club had been slowly escalating in their bigotry and violence was (and remains) unironically fantastic.

We had started off with it just being a group to "discuss the issues," which evolved into active bullying and harassment, progressed into attempted murder, and we left off on the idea that Berryheart's Hate Group was planning something with RiverClan's murder party.

And we are reaching a turning point in that arc, the payoff of a long and well-laid escalation, with...

normal democracy.

berryheart and her supporters approach puddleshine reasonably with their concerns and intent to call for a vote to depose tigerheartstar. doing the thing the fucking code addition was made for

This comes AFTER Sunbeam has a Girlboss Moment telling off Berryheart for being a bad mom in front of the whole gathering and everyone claps, mind you, so this is clearly supposed to be the narrative's big "oooo consequences for Berryheart" moment

So anyway Berryheart brings up that they want tigerHeartstar deposed, and then Puddleshine's like "haHA THIS WAS A ROUSE"

"Actually I only told you i agree to point out how this code addition can be exploited over a disagreement with ONE issue!!!!1"

i just...

im......

would Brokenstar training babies be One Issue? Would Bramblefake being a bully to his entire clan be One Issue? Would Leopardstar allowing Tigerstar to take over RiverClan be One Issue?

One Issue....

And MIND YOU I'm Pro-tigerHeartstar, actually, but the WHOLE fucking point of the rule is that you can depose someone who is not acting in the best interest of the Clans. Fym ONE ISSUE??

IT'S A BIG ASS ISSUE!

So anyway Berryheart is embarrassed in front of everyone, tigerHeartstar tells the group, "You're going to support me or get out of my Clan"

All of her supporters fall in line, but Berryheart chooses exile.

So Berryheart and her group isn't punished for the hate crimes, it didn't lead to anyone getting actually hurt, this faction of cats just settled back down and Berryheart alone was exiled for political opposition to occupation.

not the hate crimes

GOTTA STRESS

The hate crimes did not cause lasting damage, the radicalized group did not cause any violence at this gathering

Berryheart is exiled for political opposition to occupation.

The consequence she faces for the hate crimes was simply not having her son Spireclaw back her up because she caused trouble for Fringewhisker. Like it's on the same level as being a bad in-law and not ATTEMPTED MURDER BASED ON BIGOTRY

And tigerHeartstar, jesus christ

His consistent trait has been becoming unreasonable WHEN HIS FAMILY IS THREATENED. WHY are we tossing this out the window now?

I REALLY REALLY hope that the spoiler thread is misrepresentation, and tigerHeartstar didn't ACTUALLY exile her but said something like, "this is what we're doing. don't like it, leave. you don't have the votes"

SO FOR NOW; I'm going to reserve judgement on what the writers are doing with tigerHeartstar.

This seems like the exact sort of thing that may be worded in an inaccurate way

But that said,

I'm beside myself with disappointment in this turn of events. Why is this about legitimate political proceedings? Why did they make the CULMINATION of this arc about bigoted violence and radicalization a legitimate, peaceful attempt to use the process THEY JUST ADDED, FOR THIS EXACT PURPOSE?

Anyway, then it ends on a cliffhanger

Podlight claims to be the new medcat, pointed out as just being a political maneuver, to appoint Splashtail as the new leader.

Frostpaw watches on in shock and thinks about how bad it is that a murderer is now in charge of RiverClan, and how no one would believe her if she told them all now

I sure hope the next book contains something worth reading. like a fight or something. in the battle cat series. in the arc where theyre trying to say something about violence.

[drdemonprince]

autistic anon here again, thanks for fielding my question, you're a real one for not all toxic positivity on it. i guess i should've formulated things better, because i didn't mean to imply being completely wrapped up in decision paralysis to the point of doing nothing. that's a mental hurdle i've cleared a long time ago, so shit gets done. i have a few emails sitting in my inbox of fundraisers i helped with that closed out, and it;s making me emotional just thinking about it.

there's a weird disconnect between knowing that you're just one person (and that's something i actually like, i'm no-one special, that's a very freeing thought), and fully feeling it. because somewhere there's always a nagging worry i could do more. as true as it is, reminding yourself you're doing what you can feels like a convenient self-soothing lie when you're in the pit of a bad night. probably the calvinist whispering poisons in your ear. (being afraid of falling in the trap of slacktivism or just reposting everything as a signal boost and patting myself on the back for a job well done, amongst them. which is BS, but knowing isn't believing.)

i mentioned the autistic part for a reason, because community is something i've never quite experienced and only understand in the abstract. like those fundraisers i helped with many, many other people, that's a community effort and i'm proud i could contribute my little bit. translating that to in-person efforts has been a big ??? though. it's not very parseable or approachable to me.

i hadn't quite grokked this as all being part of shame, i have your book sitting here and have read it a while, probably should reread it.

Hey, thanks for writing back! I hear from people of all levels of engagement, from having never done anything to like dedicated black bloc hard core mother fuckers so it's hard to gauge from a single message what someone's particular situation is.

It sounds like you are already doing a ton, choosing actions to take, following through on them, reflecting on the impact of your tactics, and then regrouping to do more and to try things differently where you can. Yet you still feel like shit sometimes and as if you're not doing enough. What to do about those feelings?

Well. Consider those feelings aren't a problem you have to fix. They're just a thing that will happen. Because of cultural conditioning and endless exposure to alarming messages and imagery online they're just gonna come up. Those feelings can just exist while you keep doing the damn thing.

You've already got your behavior on lock. You're doing what you can and not succumbing to choice paralysis. You're hopefully not burning yourself out. It doesn't sound like anything needs to change, maybe other than you not consuming too much online bullshit that's making you feel even more guilty needlessly.

You say: "there's a weird disconnect between knowing that you're just one person (and that's something i actually like, i'm no-one special, that's a very freeing thought), and fully feeling it."

Yeah, you might not ever fully feel it. As long as you keep acting like it's true, you're good imo.

i feel like the most evil selfish unlovable human being alive most days. it doesn't really matter that i do. it sucks, but that's just a fact of how my life has been. i can keep picking myself up and doing what i have decided is right for me to do anyway. i do what i can to avoid triggers that make that feeling worse, so that it doesn't become a barrier to action, but otherwise i just... keep on living, with terrible emotions and terrible thoughts. and i focus on my actions.

As for the community piece, I hear you, it's really fucking hard. I think it's very humbling work that is so worth doing though. Often it involves showing up to the work that a group is doing and living with the fact that you won't know what the fuck is going on and looking inept for a while. it's a necessary distress tolerance building exercise, getting more comfortable with just being there and rearranging the chairs and setting up the food and feeling like a dumbass who has nothing to contribute.

being able to sit with those feelings and keep showing up and not having an ego about it is enough to earn a lot of trust and foster deeper connections, I find. so many people fail to be able to even do that in most organizing/activist/volunteering spaces. I understand it feels mortifying but it is another one of those situations of getting over oneself in a way that's ultimately so freeing and beautiful. when you can accept that people want you around even if you never have anything to say and do nothing but bring paper cups and take out the trash. it's a real object lesson in how not being all that important can be a wonderful thing and make it possible for us to find love and acceptance.

[olderthannetfic]

To the NLOG anon:

I had written a long piece but lost it, so the gist of it is that bullies are social chameleons. They will always try to find a way to get away with bullying while claiming to be the victims. And many of the "bad" NLOGs were girls looking for ways to recreate the status quo with them at the top instead.

I think that NLOGs were a natural result of the post 9/11 conservative paranoia of "anyone who is not a good American™ is a Satanic Menace to Society" (where good American meant white, christian, affluent, thin, conventionally attractive, straight...and everybody else, from foreigners, fat people, anyone gender non conforming or even alternative people were "planning the downfall of civilization"). In that climate, harassment towards "the weird" was not only tolerated but encouraged as the moral thing to do.

And the thing is, if you are ostracized from society but discouraged to learn about feminism and such, then it's no wonder that your only way of defending yourself is by using the same attacks used against you!

The big change here I think came with the recession where suddenly society became fascinated with the weird, and being a hipster or a nerdy girl was "acceptable" (hence the "golden years" of Tumblr). Many of the bullies who had gained notoriety thanks to their privilege suddenly realised they couldn't get away with it as talk about discrimination and feminism was becoming more commonplace, and so many people adopted NLOG looks and attitudes to keep doing society approved bullying.

Nowadays tho you don't see many NLOGs because, like you said, we either know better now and have deconstructed ourselves or simply because in this era of "bring back bullying" most people don't need to hide behind underprivileged people to harass someone. If they want to hate on other women they can just become a tradwife/high value woman and go back to the conservative politics of the 2000s or they can pick a bit of #girlbossfeminism while going back to their hyper feminine roots to claim *throws dice* that you have to like pink or you have internalised misogyny and that you should just try to fit into the mold, for your own good, you know.

So yeah, those who want to oppress will find a way to do so under any costume, while being the loudest and sidelining the rest of us. There's nothing to do about it, unfortunately :(

--

I mean... sure...

But the actual phrase "not like the other girls" rose to prominence to point out how fucking obnoxious a class of book is for its heroine who is always like "I don't want to stay home and do needlework!" and then the book is set in some era when rich ladies are supposed to be running an entire manor house or something, not just embroider, and the author has blatantly missed all of that. Or it's some Anita Blake bullshit where the heroine hates literally every other woman, and especially all of them with blond hair because the author is insecure and bugfuck nuts.

It's a specific dumb trope in fiction and term in criticism of that dumb trope.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

New Taskmaster lineup announcement! That’s fun, isn’t isn't it? Let’s go over some of the new people.

I first learned the news the day after I booked tickets to see Emma Sidi in Edinburgh this summer, so that was good timing. I booked those because I like her in some other people’s Radio 4 things, she was good in Pls Like, she does amusing characters on YouTube, I read some good things about her stand-up show this year for which she’s currently doing WIPs, and she hangs out with Rose Matafeo so she has to be all right, hasn’t she? Oh, and I’ve spent too much time trying to get my hypocrisy-averse brain to reconcile my dislike of the dominance of socio-economically elite institutions over the arts, with how many of my favourite comedians were in Cambridge Footlights. I’ve done the work of reconciling that already, I may as well use it a few more times.

I'm much less pleased about Jack Dee, but it could be worse. I’m pretty strongly biased against Jack Dee because one of the first things I ever saw him do was be on the QI Girls Versus Boys episode, which was the first episode of QI to ever feature two entire women. They had Ronnie Ancona on with Sandi Toksvig, and they discussed gender-based topics, and it was terrible. A lot of Fry-era QI was pretty bad; panel shows got a lot funnier when they invented diversity in 2014. Also Stephen Fry is annoying and Sandi Toksvig should be Prime Minister, but I’m getting off topic here.

The point is that the first time QI had two women on at a time, it was so they could make those two women listen to a bunch of gender essentialist bullshit that they used as answers to the gender-related questions. At one point, Stephen Fry explained that the gender pay gap isn’t real because women play fewer sets than men in professional tennis. One of the questions was “Why are there more men than women on panel shows?”, and I thought the answer would involve one of the 300 levels of casual and institutionalized sexism that women tripped over on the path from making jokes on the playground to getting spots on television comedy shows. Nope. The answer Stephen Fry was looking for was “according to an American study”, audiences don’t find women as funny as they find men.

Through this, Ronnie Ancona in particular did a great job of walking the very thin line between trying to point out a bit of the bullshit, while not being the "argumentative feminist", and being funny at the same time so she’s not a killjoy feminist proving that women aren’t funny. She did this funny riff about female comedians locked in a paddock, and then she went back and forth with Sandi a bit about it, in literally the first moment in QI history of passing the Bechdel test, and Sandi started to say something about how rare and nice it is that she gets to sit next to a woman on a panel show, and Jack Dee interrupted Sandi mid-sentence to ask whether the reason they don’t have more women on panel shows is “once you get them started they don’t shut up”.

Now, obviously he was joking. The gruff, curmudgeonly persona is his thing, and this was meant to be part of that. But he got in a lot of "joke" sexist comments throughout that whole episode, a lot more than anyone else did even though this episode was essentially dedicated to comedic sexism. It doesn’t help that the YouTube comments are full of people unironically agreeing with Jack Dee’s comment that women don't shut up.

I saw this relatively early in my time watching all the long-running panel shows, so that was the lens through which I saw all Jack Dee's other appearances, and maybe because of that bias, I noticed that he interrupted women a lot on panel shows, and picked a lot of inappropriate moments for sexist jokes, often aimed at women in general on an all-male episode, or at the only woman in an episode, always a woman who was used to always being the one woman on panels and hearing jokes like that constantly. But at least when most of the men made those jokes they’d have laugh to suggest they didn’t mean it, Jack Dee would just glare at the women like it was their fault. And yeah, being grumpy is his persona, but he would sometimes break that and have a laugh with the men. Never women.

I don’t even mind a good ironically sexist joke. Honestly, I probably mind them less than I should. I enjoy a lot of comedy where a better feminist than me would reasonably say “irony is not a good enough excuse for how offensive this is”. I know irony is used to mask genuine bigotry and I hate that, but also, if I’m convinced enough that the person isn’t masking genuine bigotry, I can laugh at some pretty harsh stuff. You need to build up some cred before I’ll trust you with sexist jokes. If Nish Kumar went on a panel show and said all women should shut the fuck up, I’ll be pretty sure he’s kidding and it’s all right. But if Jack Dee has enough feminist cred to make those jokes okay, then I sure haven’t heard about it.

Also, Jack Dee showed up on Catsdown a lot and did the grumpy thing similar to Sean Lock, but was much much less funny about it, and yet everyone else on the show treated him like he was hilarious, and that annoyed me. Also, after Sean died, Jack Dee sat in for him as a guest team captain once, doing his significantly less funny version of Sean Lock's shtick (yeah it was probably Jack Dee's shtick first, I don't care), and I had a strong visceral reaction of

All right, that is way more words that I’d meant to write about Jack Dee. Honestly, after all that, he’s probably not that bad. He was mildly funny in Josh Widdicombe’s mildly funny sitcom. I heard some of his recent stand-up recently, and a bit of it made me laugh. I just don’t like him because I saw him on too many panel shows.

Babatunde Aleshe I know almost nothing about, except that he’s supposed to have been particularly good on Off Menu once (I wouldn’t know, don’t do food shows), and sometimes he does reality TV. I’ve seen him on Catsdown and WILTY and Rhod Gilbert’s Growing Pains, where he was never particularly memorable, but he was probably fine. I hope he’s entertaining.

And then there’s seat number five, and that’s sure an interesting one. Of course I'd thought about Rosie Jones as a potential Taskmaster contestant before, but I didn't expect it to happen. Not that I didn't expect them to have any physically disabled people. They've had Jonnie Peacock and Lenny Rush and one of these days they’re definitely going to cast Adam Hills and he’ll win and then Australia will annoyingly pull ahead of Canada in the competition for who has the most UK Taskmaster champions (it’s currently 2-2). But all those people are able to do most of Taskmaster without disability accommodations. I didn't expect them to cast someone who'd need significant accommodation.

Having said that, I was very happy to see they’d proved me wrong and are, in fact, going to do that. I think she’ll be great. There are lots of ways to make Taskmaster accessible – just because I thought they wouldn’t do it doesn’t mean I thought they couldn’t.

Rosie Jones’ style of humour will go great on Taskmaster. Some recent seasons have lacked a bit of spark of contestant interaction in the studio, and Rosie Jones is always going after people. She won’t leave anyone alone, which I think will work great on the show. She can be the chaotic wildcard ball of energy that Taskmaster needs to really get going. And she is very funny. That’ll be great. I'm excited to see her get into it with Greg and Alex as well as the other contestants. And to see her yell at people when anything happens during tasks.

So that’s the new lineup announcement. Have I covered everyone? I think that's all the important stuff. It’s good to have the lineup out there.

[maxiemclaren]

can u do angst abt liam finding out he was rejected from vcarb and reader comforting him

Reservations

Warnings - Angst, Self doubt, slight panic attack, fluff

Pairings - Liam Lawson x fem!reader

Summary - Getting rejected by VCARB and needing to be comforted. 

a/n - I just wanna give this Kiwi a hug! Enjoy.

2023

One would think getting a call to fill in for an injured team member would help get a foot in the door for full time racing in an F1 seat. Well…That’s where you’re wrong, only competing in 5 races that season. Your boyfriend was over the moon when he finally got a chance to race in an F1 car during a part of the 2023 season. Having high hopes of the team making the switch for him to be a full time driver, he had treated you to fine dining and luxurious presents for a period of time, until the honeymoon phase was over. Because all it was filling in.

Winter Break 2023/2024

Even though on average he placed higher, the team just wanted to keep Daniel for the upcoming season. It wasn’t that Liam was a bad driver, it’s just that the team wasn’t sure if they wanted to switch to a full time seat just yet. After all, the team just had a revamp, changing the name to Visa Cash App Racing Bulls, having a new CEO and team principal. Liam was called into a meeting back at the factory, getting excited knowing that they will have their own discussion about the driver lineup.

He left the factory in the worst mood possible, not calling you on the way home like he normally did, not texting you to let you know he was out of the meeting, so there was no hope and knowledge to brace yourself for a very angry Liam. 

Sitting at the island in your kitchen doing some work, you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the front door open and slam shut with a loud “Fuck! It’s fucking bullshit!” from a voice you know all too well. Closing your laptop you go and meet the very frustrated sounding boy. 

Approaching him with calm energy you ask “Hey baby, are you okay? Is there anything you wanna talk about?” not wanting to further upset or frustrate him but wanting to let him know that you’re here for him. He looks at you, eyes locking onto yours, and then that’s when you see it. All the pain and frustration he is feeling, he goes to speak but his voice fails him and tears start to stream down his face. Immediately you close him in a hug holding him tight, you hear a change in his breathing as it sounds more rapid and suddenly he has pushed you off him as the contact is too much for him. You notice that he’s starting to shake and hyperventilate “Liam, baby it’s okay, you are home, you are with me right now. Let’s do some deep breathing, yeah?” you say to him in the hopes it calms him down from the panic attack.

“Four, three, two, one” you both say in unison as Liam has calmed down from the panic attack, you carefully sit there awaiting to see if he wants to share what had happened. “I guess I kind of need to explain what just happened” Liam says, rubbing the back of his neck. As he explained how the meeting went at the factory you couldn’t help but notice the digs he threw at himself like saying he was “incompetent, has a lack of talent, naive, and an overall shit driver”. Hearing enough of him tear himself apart you grab him and allow him to lean against you, “Now you listen to me sir. You are not incompetent, naive, a shit driver, and you have loads of talent. Just because they made a shit call does not mean you are anything less. For fucks sake you amaze me, there is no way I would be able to drive one of those cars and let alone score points” you say poking his cheek. He huffs out a laugh feeling a bit better than he did mere minutes ago.

For the next week you spoiled him, allowing him to stay in bed and cuddle with you as long as both your schedules would allow, making him his favorite meals, watching his favorite shows, etc. You decided that the both of you needed a little pick me up, so you booked a flight to LA so you could visit Lightning McQueen, his favorite character and what movie got him into racing (quoting the youtube video). “Oh baby, I have a surprise for you” you say in a sing-song way. “Hi love, what is it?” He asks you giving his full attention. “Well I know you’ve been wanting to go out but haven’t really known where to go, so I booked us flights to LA next week so we can meet Lightning McQueen!” you said excitedly. He leaped off the couch and spun you around as he peppered your face with kisses and kept repeating thank you’s.

Next week came faster than anyone could imagine and today was the day Liam would get to meet his idol. “I’m so nervous, why am I so nervous?” He asked you, “I’m not too sure, maybe because this is something you grew up with and your inner child is feeling healed and very joyful?” you answered honestly. After taking about two dozen pictures of him and Lightning McQueen. You both decide to head back to the hotel to relax while you are on vacation. Laying in your bed Liam rolls into your side and whispers in your ear “You know that you are the most amazing girlfriend anyone could ask for? Thank you for taking care of me through my rough patch” He said genuinely. You turn to face him and just smash your lips onto his, after a minute you look at him “Thank you, baby I know you would do the same for me so it’s only fair to be there for the highs and lows”. The both of you cuddle up and fall into deep sleeps both feeling so loved and cared for.