#which is stupid and unfair but also predictable

[beaft]

multiple people came by my stall yesterday at the art market and told me i was lowballing myself and i should be charging way more, and i'm like, on the one hand Thank You and you're probably right, charging £15 for a sculpture or painting is ridiculous when you factor in the costs of materials and how long it took to make. but on the other hand this art fair is mostly populated by gay twentysomethings who would not spend £100 on an original painting even if they had it to spend

[eddiernunson]

Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.

Word Count: 6.8k

This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.

Chapter 6

You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”

“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.

“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.

“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”

“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.

“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.

Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.

He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.

“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.

He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.

He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.

Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”

“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.

“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.

“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.

You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.

You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.

“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.

The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.

Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.

Now all of that seems silly.

The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.

You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.

Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.

When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.

His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.

“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.

“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.

“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”

Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.

“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.

“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.

The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.

“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.

You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.

Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.

Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.

The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”

You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.

“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.

You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.

“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.

“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.

“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”

“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”

“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”

Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.

You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”

Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.

Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.

“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.

Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.

Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”

A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”

“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.

Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.

Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.

Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.

“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.

“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”

“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”

You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.

The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.

The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.

Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.

“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.

“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.

“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.

“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.

He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”

You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”

“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.

“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”

“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”

“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”

You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”

Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”

“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.

“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”

Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.

He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.

“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.

He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”

He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.

“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.

A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”

Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”

“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.

A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.

His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.

His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”

“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”

You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”

“Were you?”

You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”

“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”

You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”

“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”

You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”

Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”

“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”

His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”

“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.

“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.

It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.

Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.

You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”

“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”

“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.

“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.

You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.

You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”

It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.

“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”

You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”

Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”

No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.

“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”

It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.

“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”

Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.

“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”

It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.

“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”

You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”

Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.

“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”

All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.

The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”

“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.

“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”

Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.

But your brain has turned into a puddle.

“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”

You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.

Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.

He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.

“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.

You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”

“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.

“Ed–”

“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.

“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.

“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”

Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”

“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.

“Might be true.”

First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.

His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?

He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”

You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”

“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”

“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.

“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.

He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.

We probably should keep it as a one time only event.

You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.

Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.

By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.

The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.

Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.

-

Six Months Later

Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”

You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”

“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”

“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.

“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.

“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”

“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.

The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.

After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.

A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.

You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.

Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.

Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.

Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”

You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.

You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.

Sometimes it's just easier that way.

Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“

He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.

For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.

And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.

Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.

“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”

When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.

A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.

Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.

But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—

Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.

The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.

The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.

”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”

-

Oop.

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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭

[jesswritesthat]

can i request a kuroo x reader where reader is bokuto’s sib? that would be so funny and how would he act towards them? and HOW BOKUTO WOULD REACT AT THIS😭😭 love yaa

A/N: omg I love this idea!!!

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Dating Bokutos’ Sibling Headcanons:

• Ironically Bokuto was the one to introduce you to Kuroo, and he would never have shown you off so proudly if he could predict the future.

Alas - you walked into a busy Fukurōdani Group Training Camp during their second year equipped with a bento box and a string of curses.

“See how amazing my family is Rooster hair? My biggest fan brings me lunch!” Bokuto slings an arm around your shoulder beaming with grateful pride.

“Ugh, yeah yeah. I figured you’d need energy and I wanted to see Akaashi too…” You retort, looking for your fellow first year in the gym.

• Bokuto issued you an expression of feigned hurt, hand on his chest and putting you at arms length as he hunched over.

“You wound me!”

“If that’s all it takes, I need to take notes.” The Nekoma player commented, this leaving Bokuto barking back at him before returning to ‘normalcy’.

“Anyway, this is my wonderful sibling (Y/n) and this is Kuroo Tetsurō. A middle blocker for Nekoma.”

“Nice to meet you Kuroo.”

“Likewise.”

• It was meant to be left at that, and each of you involved in that situation would’ve agreed too. Except, you found that the way he matched your wit magnetic, and how he’d join you when teasing Bokuto became a highlight of your time spent at the camp.

• Akaashi had noticed it too, addressing it rather bluntly since he was the one you lingered around most often.

“You and Kuroo-san get along well.”

“I know, he’s kinda cool. I’m glad I got to met players from other teams, no wonder K��tarō likes these training camps so much.”

“You’re right, they are fun.” He’d dismissed is as friendly acquaintances. For now.

• It wasn’t until the next practice match between Fukurōdani and Nekoma that you saw Kuroo again (and you’d ensured to come by the gym before the match to see them). This time warmly greeting each other like friends rather than strangers. A ritual that continued very time Nekoma were involved in Volleyball events.

• It’s near the end of second year that Bokuto finally started to notice, this wasn’t how ‘just friends’ acted. Your brother was oblivious to this stuff usually, which is why it had taken an interaction longer to catch on, but when it came to you he was more observant with such things.

• It’s written in the way Kuroo leans in to listen to you; how you refill his and Kenmas bottles; that you seem to be laughing together more often than not; and in the way you look at each other. It incurs a narrowed analytic gaze from the Fukurōdani Ace.

• When you felt hands clasp your shoulders and steeer you away with an intimidating undertone to his upbeat voice, you figured he was on to your little crush.

“I’m taking (Y/n) away rooster hair, my sibling and I have things to discuss. Don’t we?”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah, you’re damn right.”

• Golden eyes boared into you intently as if expecting you to spill all your secrets, Akaashi also present to such painful tactics.

“This isn’t going to work Bokuto-san.”

“Give it time Akaashi! I‘ve been unbeatable since we were kids.” The Ace dismissed, not breaking stern eye contact with you.

“Kōtarō, you’re an idiot.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Oh nothing about Kuroo hm? That scheming bastard not charming enough huh?”

“Yes he— I mean no— argh this is so unfair!”

“HAHA! See, told you I’d get ‘em.” Bokuto smugly nudged Akaashi who looked far too tired for your sibling antics right now.

• Well at least you’ll only see each other at volleyball events, which aren’t too frequent to build on. Especially a long as Bokuto lives and breathes.

“I got his number.”

“YOU WHAT?!” He’s dramatically shaking your shoulders as of its going to realign your senses.

“He — gave — number — in touch.”

“I’ll spike his stupid face!”

“You’d do that anyway.”

“Not the point (N/n)! I’ll do it 100x harder now!” It was rather eccentric, but you’d like to think he would actually commit to such a thing ‘purposefully’.

• So your secrets out. Bokuto isn’t happy about it. And Akaashi is the embodiment of Switzerland but with more conspiracy.

Oh you want a moment to talk to Kuroo without Bokuto knowing? He’ll distract him. Bokuto can’t supervise all the time? Akaashi is monitoring Kuroos interactions.

• However you manage to meet up in Tokyo without the pretences of volleyball games or training camps. It’s purely to see one another and through this developing friendship, and with each outing creating a level of comfort, it was natural for the flirty banter to start.

• Such a tiptoe game preceded to their third year, and it became dangerously obvious that the pair of you had a thing for each other but neither of you had acted on it. At first Bokuto was relieved and eager to pettily drag you away whenever the opportunity arose. But now he’d kind of understood that the growing feelings were more genuine than he’d originally assumed.

• It’s still a surprise when Kuroo charismatically pulls him away to an empty gymnasium after training, only to take a more awkward and serious tone when the nerves set in.

“Bokuto, you know you’re one of my best friends right?”

“Yeah man, but I’m not into you that way.”

“Woah, you wish frosty tips.” Kuroo breathed out with a smirk, more at ease thanks to that remark. “I was gonna ask for you blessing as lame as that sounds.”

“Eh? What for?”

“To ask (Y/n) on a date…”

That’s when the humour tainting his expression fades, when the amber in his eyes burn, and the muscles of his crossed arms tense up.

“I see.”

• It takes you a moment to grasp the situation too, of Tetsurō actually asking you to hang out with him after the camp ends - with the specificity of it being a date this time. It doesn’t take long for you to accept, even if you did tease him a little.

“Has becoming Captain made you braver?”

“Oya, I asked before you did (Y/n). Let alone the fact you couldn’t resist my offer~”

• Kuroo finds the situation the easiest to deal with you think, he acts natural even if he is a bundle of nerves underneath it all. His existing relationship with Bokuto and teasing personality make it easier to adjust to. Although sometimes you’ll over hear conversations between the two.

“Thanks for asking rooster hair. Anyway… how’s (Y/n)?” Bokuto asks, slightly more apprehensive than their previous conversation about teams.

“Happy I hope, though I annoyed them the other day - ate the last snack from the packet.” Kuroo snickered, only for Kōtarō to cut in.

“Yeah? You should try taking a bunch of photos, that really gets to (Y/n).”

“Hey?! Don’t help him!” You shout down.

• It amused you in the beginning, one specific time when Kuroo came to your door to pick you up only to find an expectant Bokuto.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. I can’t possibly allow my beloved sibling—”

“I have fried chicken.” Kuroo held up a warm takeout bag, conniving smirk in place.

“Deal, take ‘em wherever you want.”

“Kōtarō?!” You explained, your brother accepting the food without a second thought and ushering you toward the door.

“Eh? You haven’t bribed me in a while, rooster hair is my favourite right now. Out you go, don’t keep the man waiting.”

• They also go shopping together whenever it’s a celebration that involves you. They gladly put yen together for a big gift, or give one another recommendations - yet act completely innocent about it when you call them out on it.

• Sometimes you even feel like you’re third wheeling if Tetsurō visits the Bokuto household, their bromance truly was one of a kind. Though you didn’t mind, grateful that your brother and boyfriend got along so well.

• Bokuto still had that big brother protectiveness though and Kuroo was a scheming bastard when exploiting it. He’d playfully kiss you or show affection in front him - Kōtarō immediately pulling you into him with a look of utter disgust.

“How dare you lay your hands on (Y/n)?”

“Kou, he’s my boyfrie—“

“He knows what he did!”

• Overall it’s a positive experience, and it feels like Kuroo is already apart of the family due to the connections you each already share. They both make the effort to ensure you are happy when they can, and keep in touch fairly often. To be honest your certain they let the other know if your in a bad mood… so much for loyalty y’know?

• However, one thing you haven’t discovered yet, is that when Kuroo asked for Bokutos’ blessing, he readily accepted.

“I see.”

A look of contemplation, and then a beaming smile.

“Finally man! Course you have my blessing bedhead, I can tell you care about (Y/n) and would protect them like I would. Plus I know they’d be happy.”

“Thanks Bokuto, I’ll give it my best if they accept.”

“You better. Else I’ll kill you.” This was sinister, it was that deranged look he got when lost in a match, the one before the most earsplitting spikes - suddenly replaced with his usual carefree grin.

“Whatcha waiting for huh? Get out there and ask (Y/n)!”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[kookidough]

i know world tour rewrites are probably overdone by now but i wanna see an alenoah world tour rewrite where pretty much everything is the same but (predictably) it changes at/around i see london

so in this rewrite, pre-london, similarly to canon alejandro is flirting with other teams to get them off their game and eliminate them (cough cough bridgette, leshawna, etc) but he thinks it’d be a good idea to flirt with someone on his own team- not to throw them off their game, but to get a closer bond with them and hopefully a steady alliance once merge rolls around. after all, it’s easier to get closer to a team member than an enemy right now.

he’s weighing up his options and he Hates owen, izzy is Insane, and tyler serves no use to him, which leaves noah.. alejandro thinks he’ll be a good choice since while noah is weak he does somewhat try in challenges and he is very smart, so having him as an ally will benefit alejandro, also he genuinely enjoys noah company, viewing him as being on the same level as him in levels of wit/intelligence/humour, so boom it’s settled, noah will be his ally post-merge

anyway back to i see london, the episode goes the same up until the elimination ceremony, alejandro yaps in the confessional about it being unfair that chris let team amazon win since his team were the ones that actually caught the ripper-type guy. he also knows that since he was caught before the challenge even started, he’s probably going home !! so he needs to figure out a way to gaslight gatekeep girlboss everyone and stay in the game

he, like in canon, is of course irritated at noah for talking about him behind his back and thinks about eliminating him, despite previously thinking he’d be a good ally. this is where i diverge fully from canon and say he can’t really risk losing an ally here and maybe, without noah having the influence of anyone else, he’ll be able to turn things around with him. izzy is already gone so if alejandro eliminates owen, then noah will have no other allies and most likely be searching for one, so this is where alejandro can swoop back in and continue to ally with him (while definitely planning to use him for his intelligence and double cross him later as revenge for gossiping about him, and also because alejandro wants to win)

so with 2 votes for ale and 3 votes for owen, the big guy is sent packing and things are playing out the way alejandro wants them to. when he approaches noah for an alliance he’s surprised at how little convincing it takes, and he thinks this plan will be easier than he thought

hoooowever noah is also planning to double cross him and he approaches heather, despite disliking her, because he knows shes currently the only other one that can see through alejandro. he may not like heather but he knows she’s smart and a very capable player and hey, if things go south then it can’t be that hard to get her eliminated, because she’s literally heather

so just . AUFHHR i need this dynamic of noah and alejandro thinking they’re one step ahead of each other and they’ve got each other all figured out but they’re actually both just playing each other’s game and they have all the stupid flirty rival banter while they tango around their feelings for each other it’s great

and they dont even have to be final 2 !!! maybe their plans crumble and they end up voted off and get into some tense aftermath segment and have a very chaotic game of “truth or volcanic eruption” !!

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Hello. Okay, so I'm going to start this off with 'this might be an crazy thing to ask'.

I just saw your post from January about Nana Shimura, and I feel like I'm insane.

I'm legitimately not trying to be belligerent here, but can you please explain to me, in your opinion, why you think that it is Nana's fault for anything that has happened in relation to her? I'm just trying to understand, because I don't see how anything could necessarily be her fault solely. Specifically when talking about the 'creation' of Tomura.

If AFO had wanted to get his hands on someone from that bloodline, if only to be a bastard or whether it was for an actual reason, he would have done it regardless of what Nana's choices would have been.

And I can't help but notice the fact that all of this skips an entire generation. Everyone is so quick to blame Nana for doing what humans do, I.E. having a husband and a child, and I feel I'm not really qualified to speak on that front because I never have wanted children and I don't foresee that changing at this ripe old age I'm at, so I'm not even going to go into whether or not I think it was wrong of her to have a family.

I just find it very interesting that people are blaming Nana for something that happened literal years after her own physical death. Things that happened at the hands of her own son. Things that would have never happened had it not been for her son, that she had no part in.

It's just that the way I see it, that man had years upon years to come to terms with what his mother had done in order to protect him, but in the end he failed anyway. Whether he knew it or not he failed more than his own mother did. He failed and he gave his fucking own child over to this horrible person, and he couldn't have been completely ignorant of that, let's be honest. Whether or not what she did was the right choice, Nana gave him up for a reason, and the fact that he couldbut possibly put himself in his mother's shoes, after how many years? Is more telling of him than it is of her.

Even if what Nana did wasn't the right choice, then what WAS the right choice? How was there a wrong or a right choice when you could never possibly predict the outcomes of whatever you chose to do? In my opinion, people are trying to pin everything on Nana when all she was doing was doing the best she could with what she was given, and I think that's unfair and stupid.

I haven't been following you for long, but I've seen your posts for quite a while, so I actually do respect your opinion, which is why I am asking you.

I really don't like the way Horikoshi writes women as a whole in this particular story, and I don't know if that's a track record of his or if this is his only work or whatever, I don't really pay attention to that sort of thing. And that's a whole other post for another time. But I just find it really weird that everyone seems to be coming after Nana while simultaneously defending her son, when her own son is the one who is committing these atrocities long after she is dead?I find it very weird indeed.

Sorry for the long post, I have far too many feelings about MHA.

First of all, sorry for taking so long to answer and thank you for taking the time to write this ask 💜

Nana Shimura is one of my favorite bnha female characters because of how complex and flawed she is!!!

Here's the short answer:

Regardless of the actions of the people around her, Nana Shimura had a responsibility with her son as a mother and with the world as a hero.

We all have to make decisions without knowing the outcomes. That's life. It doesn't absolve us from the consequences of our actions. It also doesn't mean we are evil, but simply human. It is in our nature to make mistakes and make bad decisions sometimes.

It seems extremely harsh to judge a woman for doing her best against an enemy that was so much stronger than her, but that's the whole point of writing a character like Nana. There are no easy answers.

What was the correct thing to do instead of abandoning Kotaro? How could she have won against AFO? How could one (1) woman do both and do it well?

Nana isn't responsible for what Kotaro did so many years after she left him, but she did leave him. She had a son and then left him because she needed to be a hero. We don't know the exact circumstances of how she had Kotaro, but many fans ask why she had him if she knew her hero job would put him at such risk. Or why she chose to be a hero over being his mother.

Logically, we know it was to save the world. It's just that her choice isn't black and white. She caused a lot of pain in doing what she did, even if she contributed to a lot of joy.

AFO defeating her was inevitable. Like her OFA predecessors, they were alone on their journey. See, it took Deku an army to fight AFO and his influence.

There's also the fact that Nana took Toshinori in after she left Kotaro. Of course she only did it because the kid meant to sacrifice himself for the cause just like her, but it doesn't erase the parallel between Toshinori and Kotaro. One got to enjoy her company until she died because he had the right conditions to be her heir while the other lost her forever because she loved him.

Sadly, her love didn't save Kotaro and didn't make All Might's life easier.

Any person with responsibilities is a person with failures. That rings true for every single bnha hero and villain.

The way I see it, people either have a reason to hate her or not.

Some dislike her 'cause she left Kotaro. Some are unreadable in their judgment and hate her just because she is a woman. Some just dislike her general writing or don't enjoy her type of character.

At the end of the day, Nana Shimura is still a tremendous female character. She inspired All Might himself (he who is hailed as the best hero of all times). She faced AFO alone and she died mocking him with a smile. She sacrificed her happiness and all the things dear to her in order to save the world. Nana passed down OFA and kept hope alive in a time full of violence and chaos. She is one of the best female pro-heroes to have existed and the only female OFA user. He was freaking jacked with muscle because her quirk was float.

Her flaws depict her greatness and the weight on her shoulders. Nana Shimura, everyone.

[randomthefox]

As much as making predictions for IDW is pointless (but hey, maybe it can be fun to see how much the story deviates from its logical consequences :P)...

I think that in #75 Lanolin will finally discover that her babyboy Duo lied to her, and Whisper was right all along. She'll blame herself for being stupid, which will cause the others to rush to comfort her with the power of friendship and completely forget about her abusive behavior :)

Now, if the story was logical, this should be the breaking point for Lanolin. She was duped. She was stubborn. She was bossy, violent, and terrified the others (nevermind that it doesn't make sense). She always got in the way. No one cares that Sonic broke the rules, her oh so precious rules, because people inherently trust Sonic in a way they can't trust her, not anymore. She was useless and a terrible teammate.

These would be the perfect circumstances to make her reflect on her approach on heroism, and how flawed it is. Even assuming that she meant well at first, she did everything wrong. She should feel bad about herself! She should strive to be more relaxed and accepting of things that don't go the way she expected!

... but after ABT drew her getting so close to shooting Sonic because it's all his fault the world is shit, apparently, I doubt she's ever gonna change. She will join Surge in spreading the idea that Sonic upholds an unfair system of harm for his own amusement and she's just a poor victim of it.

Sometimes I feel like when I speculate about possible directions the comic could go in, I'm giving the writers too much credit. I'm thinking about the story too rationally. I'm thinking of it as if it is a story written by competent creatives who want to craft a narrative where the characters act believably and consistently. And the comic has repeatedly demonstrated that it is not capable of doing that even when it tries.

If I had to speculate entirely based off of this cover, my guess would be that Lanolin is going to demand Sonic be "brought to justice" only for literally everyone including Jewel to say uhhh no? And that is going to cause her to become disillusioned, especially since she interprets Tangle and Whisper hiding the truth from her as them "protecting a criminal." So Jewel ALSO being "in on it" would be interpreted further as a betrayal. The Restoration has lost its way, it as an organization revolves around this one crazy guy who is never held accountable even when he does something wrong. Duo's reveal as Mimic will either further contribute to that, OR he'll tempt her to the dark side and she'll take off with him to go become a villain.

But again that's me thinking about it in terms of what I think would actually make sense to happen based on the preceding events and characterization. Frankly this comic is so badly written and makes so little sense that it's almost unpredictable. I do think it's a pretty safe bet no matter what though that Lanolin is NOT going to grow and change and be inspired to become a better person. I think it's a pretty safe bet that she's going to start reciting the IDW gospel that Sonic Is Bad Actually. And the "fans" of the comic will eat it the fuck up.

Because this comic is written BY people who hate Sonic, FOR people who hate Sonic.

[what-gs-watching]

“Speaking of not being able to move. I too have had trouble moving. Lately. Past the poverty line.”

Maybe I’m predictable but I’m still settling into this new job and it’s hard to focus on other new things when everything during my day is new so the other night I decided to restart Superstore. 

Which is another one of my ‘this show deserves more love’ shows. Maybe one of the last sitcoms I picked up from NBC before I went full on feral for streaming services. It’s charming and stupid and I’m weirdly a sucker for the guy who plays Jonah.

Wherein, we follow the lives of associates of Cloud 9, a big box store, while they deal with working in retail and all of the absolute ridiculousness that goes along with that (COVID, included). 

Amy (America Ferrara, who is perfectly utilized here honestly) is a 30-something shift manager at the store with a daughter she had at 19 and a lazy husband. She’s obviously disillusioned with her monotonous life until Jonah (Ben Feldman, who I JUST realized I recognized from ‘Drop Dead Diva’ like whoooa) shows up, a dude who washed out of business school and is annoyingly pretentious but also adorably fun. Hijinks ensue. 

I really do love the entire supporting cast of this show. Dina is the psychotic assistant manager who owns a ton of birds, is brutally honest and kind of a bully but ends up being a really good friend. Cheyenne starts out as a ditzy pregnant teen mom but her storyline with her ridiculous wanna-be gangster boyfriend turned husband with a mustache is hilarious and weirdly endearing. And her friendship with Mateo (who is fussy, snarky, undocumented, and has a terrible romance with district manager, Jeff) is life goals. 

Y’all know I’m all about the relationships in shows, and I do enjoy the Amy/Jonah slowburn because, like, obvi any slowburn is always gonna get me, but the friendships are really just chef’s kiss. Garrett, the chill dude who does the in-store announcements, loves videos games and doesn’t generally give a fuck, ends up as Jonah’s reluctant best friend. Dina ends up finding the perfect frenemy in Sandra, who is everyone’s punching bag but also creepily FIERCE at times. I also love Cheyenne and Garrett - there’s an episode where the store has amnesty to admit roles they’ve broken and neither one of them have so they dig into the employee handbook to find one, but end up focusing on ‘no hats’ even though Garrett insists “we’re not hatting this!”

The dynamics are perfect. 

Basically, I feel this show deeply in my heart. I worked retail for years, it was my first job in high school and I worked at a Burlington Coat Factory entirely through college. The appeal of the show is that they’re a bunch of random ass people that bond over the fact that the store is terrible and minimum wage jobs are demeaning but they make it fun and I’ve totally lived that.

I had two work moms. And I met one of my absolute best friends there. We had adventures following shoplifters,  dancing at the registers singing made up songs, throwing parties for holidays, waking up too fucking early to work black friday shifts or doing inventory.  We bitched about unfair corporate policies and I saw a few of my friends have babies and have to scramble on how to support themselves. I saw all of the hidden talents my coworkers had and the dreams they wanted to achieve. We suffered through customers treating us like shit, and we lifted each other up. 

Working retail is a brutal undertaking but it can also be an oddly beautiful tapestry and that’s what I love about Superstore. 

I also appreciate that they talk about the real shit. There’s a walkout/strike after Glenn, the high-pitched, god-fearing, somewhat buffoon of a store manager gets fired for sneakily trying to give Cheyenne paid leave after she gives birth in the store. The associates band together eventually to try and unionize. There’s a bit about Amy asking for a raise, which results in the whole store sitting through a lecture on proper “budgeting” which includes a section about how “Uncle Sam has your food, now go get it!” At one point, there’s an ICE sweep in retaliation to unionization whispers. They follow Amy’s struggles in trying to climb the ladder and make something of herself. It’s real but also exaggerated, and sad and funny. 

It’s absolutely a snapshot in time and it lets me romanticize a period of my life that I spent desperately trying to escape. You know that dream people have about sitting for an exam in a class they didn’t know they were taking? I never have that dream. I have a dream where I show up to Burlington as I am now, a thirty-something with a ‘career’, and I know I haven’t worked there in years, but I’m panicked because I can’t figure out what my schedule is and everyone is annoyed I haven’t been coming in for my shifts. 

Working a job like that shapes you and stays with you. I managed to escape, I’m the asshole who just spent nine months on the couch pouting about my cushy job being taken away and doing nothing other than trying to force myself into another one, but maybe that’s okay because I lived that retail struggle for a good bit. I understand it, and I am never one of those asshole customers. 

All that to say, Superstore depicts that struggle flawlessly. And it makes me miss that unique camaraderie that you’ll never truly get working a tech job. It honestly cannot be duplicated. And if you’ve never experienced it for yourself, at least you can through the absolute ridiculousness that is the gang at Cloud 9.

[jelliegirl]

Tell me more about Io!! Haven't heard much about them. Love their name btw Jupiter's moons are the coolest

yesss omg thank u for asking me this io is my baby child im gonna put under a cut cuz im gonna ramble

io is a character i came up with to flesh out my nocturnal fey realm the evernight court! the royalty of the kingdom are a race of large fuzzy moth fey. io's design is predictably based on... an io moth!

they're a wizard student from a fancy arcane academy for celestials and fey royalty. they especially like learning about illusion and enchantment magic. at the beginning of the story their personality is very serious and hardworking but they develop a sassy/outspoken side as their confidence grows. they are sweet and very polite most of the time, but they dont like slackers or jerks and will stand up for themselves and others if they think something is unfair or wrong. this gets them in trouble in high society sometimes because fey tend to be immoral and prideful! here's some little uniforms i drew for them.

they also have a magic apprenticeship with my oc atlas at one point in the story which was really fun to me to write. here is a stupid comic summarizing their relationship:

i have a soft spot for io because they're the first character i've ever... just written a story about for the joy of it? like, i don't roleplay them, they're not going to be part of my dnd campaign. i have an entire narrative arc for them planned which has never really been my forte. their story is about 70 pages rn but i have it all planned out in my (currently too tired to be creative) brain. im probably too shy to let anyone else read it lol. but yeah i basically wrote a whole high fantasy story about this little wizard baby. thank you for asking about my bug!!

[elendsessor]

frontier hunting log part fuck crystallization

back again with more terrors

first up is garuba daora

i both find it cool and fucking hate this thing and it’s all because of crystallization.

the fight is so fun otherwise. you have to stay close but not too close, plus it opens with a neat ohko. no stupid wind or anything. issue again is crystallization because this is the worst offender (so far) thanks to how difficult it is to dodge the attack that inflicts it.

crystallization is a neat status effect on paper but is way too unfair. it’s a combination of snowman/frozen and blast, where you can’t use items and the crystals will explode after awhile, but it also reduces your stamina bar to the lowest level, with the only recovery of such being to eat steaks/energy drinks/dash juices. to get rid of the crystals, someone has to hit you. don’t get hit? try and button mash. can’t do it fast enough? you’re fucked. ik it got nerfed in online but it’s stupid.

i do like the idea of it removing access to items and eventually exploding, but i wish something could be used on yourself to actually heal it. if there has to be stamina depletion, don’t have it get rid of 4/5ths of the bar, rather reduce stamina to zero and have it slowly recover. that’s all. could be interesting to play with but man it’s overkill.

there are a couple of mons that also utilize the ailment but the attacks are predictable and easy to dodge as opposed to “better do a frame perfect dodge or you’ll die!”

speaking of…

akura jebia

i like scorpion monsters :)

it’s just vashimu but more focused on using elemental/status attacks as opposed to physical combat. both are fun.

last but not least

lolo and ray gougarf!!! interestingly, compared to species like the raths where one is male and the other female, these are actually separated based on dominant and recessive genes, so they can be whatever gender you believe them to be.

i say they’re butch lesbians.

this is an absolutely amazing fight and definitely one that can be easily translated to mainline, though maybe without the magnetism. these two are pro wrestler monkey-dogs. they actually work together too which we don’t really see much of especially in mainline. they both interact with one another nicely, throwing each other around, purposefully pinning you between both, etc.

even their deaths are interesting. killing one before the other not only changes the dominant rewards you get on the reward screen (kill ray second and you get more of its parts, kill lolo first and you get more of its parts), but outright alters behavior. if lolo is the first to go, ray mopes a ton, won’t go into an enraged state, and will be generally weaker. lolo will stay enraged and be a nightmare if you’re not careful. i love this this is perfect i love you wrestler monkey-dogs.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Do you believe that most politicians are selfish, egotistical swine who don’t really care about the public interest? Do you think we live in an economic system which is stupid and unfair?

If you answered “yes”, then you subscribe to the anarchist critique of today’s society — at least, in its broadest outlines. Anarchists believe that power corrupts and those who spend their entire lives seeking power are the very last people who should have it. Anarchists believe that our present economic system is more likely to reward people for selfish and unscrupulous behavior than for being decent, caring human beings. Most people feel that way. The only difference is that most people don’t think there’s anything that can be done about it, or anyway — and this is what the faithful servants of the powerful are always most likely to insist — anything that won’t end up making things even worse.

But what if that weren’t true?

And is there really any reason to believe this? When you can actually test them, most of the usual predictions about what would happen without states or capitalism turn out to be entirely untrue. For thousands of years people lived without governments. In many parts of the world people live outside of the control of governments today. They do not all kill each other. Mostly they just get on about their lives the same as anyone else would. Of course, in a complex, urban, technological society all this would be more complicated: but technology can also make all these problems a lot easier to solve. In fact, we have not even begun to think about what our lives could be like if technology were really marshaled to fit human needs. How many hours would we really need to work in order to maintain a functional society — that is, if we got rid of all the useless or destructive occupations like telemarketers, lawyers, prison guards, financial analysts, public relations experts, bureaucrats and politicians, and turn our best scientific minds away from working on space weaponry or stock market systems to mechanizing away dangerous or annoying tasks like coal mining or cleaning the bathroom, and distribute the remaining work among everyone equally? Five hours a day? Four? Three? Two? Nobody knows because no one is even asking this kind of question. Anarchists think these are the very questions we should be asking.

[jessicafurseth]

Reading List, Heatwave edition.

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognised by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. ... I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible." [George Bernard Shaw]

[Image: Robert Herman (1980) via 90sanxiety]

*

"Some philosophers claim that the emotions artworks evoke are really 'pseudo emotions'; we feel them at one degree of remove. I can think of no better support for this thesis than the experience of listening to Paula Cole in CVS. The hopes of young love, the disappointments of middle age, the curdling resentment that ensues: I feel some inkling of it all. But mostly I’m just tapping my foot as I wait to pick up my prescription." This is incredible. [Mitch Therieau, The Paris Review]

Empire of dust: what the tiniest specks reveal about the world [Jay Owens, The Guardian]

#GraveTok [Jessica Lucas, The New York Times]

Semesters for adults [Allie Volpe, Vox]

Your movers have opinions about your relationship [Gina Cherelus, The New York Times]

How to Take a Photo of Your Girlfriend [Kate Lindsay, GQ]

"Collective effervescence is the way we feel connected when we’re in a crowd of other people, even if we don’t know them. When we’re all focused on a concert or a play or a movie, we feel a sense of social connection and it makes us feel really good." After the pandemic, people forgot how to behave in public [Alex Abad-Santos, Vox]

"If we want to replace our culture of trauma with a culture of resilience, we’ll have to relearn how to support one another—something we’ve lost as our society has moved toward viewing “wellness” as an individual pursuit, a state of mind accessed via self-work. Retreating inward, and tying our identities to all of the ways in which we’ve been hurt, may actually make our inner worlds harder places to inhabit." I Was Wrong About Trigger Warnings - Jill Filipovic, The Atlantic

Is Tradwife Content Dangerous, or Just Stupid? [Kathryn Jezer-Morton, The Cut]

Why Barbie Must Be Punished [Leslie Jamison, The New Yorker]

"When you get a woman in her 40s or 50s who has progressed in her career and is probably more willing to speak her mind, I think it's intimidating to the insecure men in our workforce. They would rather diminish that woman, not promote her, keep her in her place. It's not that they don't want her in the workplace — they just want her in a role that's going to support the men in the workplace and not compete with them. And certainly not give them a contrary opinion." Women Face Age Discrimination at Every Age, According to a New Study [Kelli Maria Korducki, Insider]

"Algorithms do the work for cheap, but when they reflect our taste back at us, it feels misshapen and insulting, a crude and unfair representation. When everything is available, all knowledge, all information, all entertainment ….nothing is perceived as valuable. Not the labor that creates the thing, not the person behind it, not the thing itself. The only valuable thing is our time, and if we spend it on something that isn’t amazing, isn’t exquisitely for us, we understand it as time wasted, instead of time gloriously wandering." The Sterile World of Infinite Choice [Anne Helen Petersen]

"We are living in a streaming paradox. As both an entertainment business model and a consumer experience, streaming has become a victim of its own success. It is a paradigm shift that is beloved for giving us more choice than ever before, while also making it harder than ever to actually enjoy that abundance." Streaming Has Reached Its Sad, Predictable Fate [Charlie Warzel, The Atlantic]

Every “chronically online” conversation is the same [Rebecca Jennings, Vox]

The Wild History of Not Eating Meat - on Alicia Kennedy's new book, "No Meat Required: The cultural history and culinary future of plant-based eating" [Diana Hubbell, Gastro Obscura]

My first boss busted me for skiving off work. I still don't regret it. [Anna Codrea- Rado]

"That myth of a restful vacation becomes something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ll tell myself that I need to get away in order to relax, but then I’ll get more stressed as I prepare for the trip. I’ll cram too much into the days beforehand, from finishing up work tasks to finding time for a pedicure. By the day before departure, I’m a wreck. And yet, rather than question this approach, I’ll see it as evidence of how much I needed that holiday in the first place. But do I actually need a holiday or do I just need more breaks in my regular life? Would I be so desperate for a holiday if I had a little more breathing room in my day-to-day?" The myth of the restful vacation [Anna Codrea- Rado]

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

Dead people don't buy gas. People in hospitals fighting for their lives don't buy gas.

Dead and dying people don't fly either -- while that does not use gasoline, it does use the same primary ingredient, and when an ingredient is in demand, prices for it, and therefore the finished product, fo up.

Anybody remember the carbon emissions map in lockdown? Yeah. That's a big part of why.

Now I'd love to blame Trump for the pandemic, but frankly it was the world's most predictable occurrence -- one was going to happen sooner or later for some reason (climate change people: think how many viruses and bacteria can hibernate in cold for millenia and then go live... now think of the permafrost melting and uncovering carcasses full of those. World's. Most. Predictable. Problem.) But I can't, and I won't because he has actually DONE more than enough bad shit that I don't need to make up reasons.

One of the things he ACTUALLY did was make the pandemic worse. So so much worse. In the name of economics that have flourished under Biden bc jobs numbers mean more in impact than market value which is entirely made up based on people's feelings.

Now as to inflation -- US inflation is DOWN as of July 2024, with it expected to keep dropping. You know what isn't? Pay.

When I started college in 2018, I'd have maxed out at $20 an hour with experience. Now? I command $25 easily. B did a job a decade ago for $10 an hour. Now he does much the same job for over $19. I use these bc these are NOT state or local minimum wages (though those have gone up in Illinois) they are above them and they are NOT highly skilled, highly paid jobs -- his could be done with nothing but a high school diploma, most of mine prefer an associates (which can be entirely paid for by PELL grants if you qualify -- if you need to know how send me an ask, I'll walk you through it -- which never get paid back) but will accept a high school degree with some experience.

This is IMPORTANT. We are seeing more jobs at higher wages for poor people -- that is the first step toward bringing back the middle class. We don't ever hear that bc no one analyzes it all but it is very true.

Also inflation is not to blame for price gouging or unfair practices -- such as an industry getting together to decide what to charge. That's super illegal and if you want it to stop, start asking for the SEC and IRS to be properly funded and staffed so they can do their jobs. They would love to, they simply are hamstrung by budgets.

Also, while we could go back to keeping all of our oil here, we DON'T because we are supplying Europe so they don't have to buy from the Russians, as China was -- possibly still is -- from their strategic reserve, a diplomatic coup for Biden and the reason why a continent has had heat and cooking while standing by a semi allied nation despite their own inflation being higher and their risk of retaliation much higher. Another diplomatic feat.

A stupid ass picture means nothing outside of the knowledge of the world. FDR's economic plans worked like gangbusters, prices were great... and he had a 94% tax on the top bracket. Notice no Republicans cite that as something to go back to despite its resounding success.

Context is for kings, y'all.

[unmeiokaemasu]

😊✨💕 PoR second-ever normal mode clear results! Happy with this, thoughts below:

Black Knight: Not NEARLY as difficult a fight as it was hyped up to be, I know the first time I did it I saw the ratio of damage predicted between Ike vs. the dipshit knight and got so scared I just didn't even try, but my dude powers through it without much of a problem with just aether. ...ok and Mist healing him. On my first playthrough Ike had aether, but Mist didn't have a horse...although I have no idea if she had physic or not, which maybe would've resulted in the same thing? I guess her staff level would also have to be good. Anyway I've heard that there may be other ability combos that work better, but with aether and with Mist with a good staff level able to canto, it was a super simple fight on normal difficulty. So I saved Nasir! :D

MVPs 6-10: Absolutely scattered results, obvs Naesala's only available in the very last battle and he still murdered more people than like 90% of my army...the other four were all ones that I was like "...and I guess I'll add you as the last unit to fill out the roster" for most maps that they were on. Kieran's good cuz he's on a horse and he's frankly better than Oscar even though I was training Oscar, Stefan is UNHINGED and even tho he was never my top pick he's aboslutely worth the hassle of recruiting him, I definitely biased towards Ulki bcs of getting the support with Rhys but he's a good unit bcs like the birds are all good, and Haar is just. also very good like I'm a little salty I spent all that time training Marcia and then Haar was still way better. Also unfair that Reyson isn't an attack unit or he'd easily be in the top 5. >:(

Marcia: Wow, I did make an effort to train her up, but uh...honestly those other 4 MVPs tended to replace her? She was just my early-game trainee. I like early-game pegasus knights a lot more now, Florina and Vanessa respectively did a lot of work in my most recent FE7 and FE8 runs, but yeah, Marcia never quite got there...but she sure got a lot of exp I guess. ...nice.

Muarim: 💚💚💚

Titania: Honestly. She could carry the whole game. At least on this difficulty setting. Just use her and train up Ike and Mist for the knight fight and that's literally all you need.

Ike: Other FE protagonists hold different spots in my heart, Eliwood being the stereotypical-cinnamon-roll-protag and Byleth being the one I've personally connected with most...but PoR Ike defo gets my personal trophy for "most nuanced / most interesting / best written / also let's be real actually a cinnamon roll, just one who could kick your ass and is allowed to say fuck (or…fig.)” I like Ike.

Soren: ...so yeah my goals this time were 1) (as always) recruit all units and lose none, 2) defeat the black knight (technically ties in with the last one), and, reminded at the last minute that there's a unit ranking, 3) make Soren the MVP. ...so yeah, that's everything I wanted to do with this run! :D

now to see if I can get this stupid data transfer to work for Radiant Dawn. :P

[meganuzlockediary]

Soul Silver! The pokemon League!

February 7th

Will

Ok first one should be easiest! Except I dont give Ninetails dark pulse! I quick switch to feraligatr and take a psychic getting the sp.def drop such is my punishment. Fortunately Xatu now goes for U turn and switches to jynx as I get a Swords dance off. I would have preffered two but I know Jynx is shooting for lovely kiss. I use crunch to take it, Exeggcutor and the first xatu out. Next come slowbro! Now unfortunately there is only a 50% chance of OHKO here and honestly if I don't I think feraligatr is out! Fortunately I get the attack and then its one more quick Crunch for the win. A stupid early mistake but all good in the end.

Bruno

Ok so this is gonna be a real ninetails sweep now. And it goes almost without a hitch. I use 2 nastyplots on ariados taking a poison jab and a spider web. This sets me up to OHKO the rest of the team. The only issue is Crobat who does outspeed and uses double team. My flamethrower misses and on the next turn he gets a critical hit wing attack. Ninetails survives in the red as predicted and sitrus berry brings her back this time flamethrower hits which allows me to take out the crobat and the final venomoth for the win.

Bruno

Phew no where near as hard as expected. Hitmontop does practically nothing especially when burned by ninetails. This allowed me to switch into feraligatr (higher defence just in case) get off 3 swords dances and sweep with waterfall all 5 pokemon. Easy!

Karen

Definitely the toughest battle. I lead with machamp to OHKO umbreon after he uses double team. I specifically kept vital throw over cross chop for this. Next comes Murkrow who does outspeed and gets a critical hit wing attack. Fotunately Machamp survives this even with 2 round of poison and also OHKOs murkrow. He must switch now however. I jump into ninetails vs the gengar and get a nasty plot off as it misses with focus blast to take out the next turn with dark pulse. Unfortunately houndoom comes out next and absolutely walls ninetails so I switch to feraligatr to get the OHKO with waterfall before going back to ninetails to finish of the vileplume with a flamethrower after it uses stun spore and gets a critical hit petal dance on me. A little unfair but I am very well set up for this final battle.

Lance

OMG Lance is scary! After doing some calculations I genuinely dont think Mamoswine can do it on his own without a sack. So I'm in a rough spot. Normally I would lead ampharos to take out gyarados but at this point I need a change in strategy... I am going to go for a feraligatr Ice fang sweep Its safer and I can cripple gyarados.

I lead STANTLER! against gyarados already feeling the wipe coming. This is to get intimidate off and set up a light screen. I then switch into Feraligatr on a waterfall that does basically nothing. Fortunately each of gyarados' attacks can only do very little so I get all 2 sword dances set up (an agility might have been a good move to bring to this too). Now to get through gyarados which is actually a bit of a wall. I use crunch which has a 50% chance to OHKO and it gets through. Next up is the Thunder dragonite. Fortunately I outspeed just i think and get off the ice fang for an OHKO. Next is another dragonite this one outspeeds which is why I think I just beat the cap with the last one. Fortunatly again its dragon rush misses and I can OHKO again. Next is Aerodactyl which does outspeed with thunderfang but it does a decent chunk. I am regretting not paccing a waccan berry. Fortunately the sitrus berry is triggered and I go back above yellow. A waterfall takes out the aerodactyl and the charizard which also outspeeds with air slash. Bringing me low. Finally is Dragonite. I am terrified of another outspeed but cannot afford to switch and lose momentum. I go for it and outspeed for one final Icefang winning the battle! This was too chansey but I got through in the end. My plan paid off. Honestly Swords dance is an OP strategy but if it aint broken don't fix it! I'm glad I could win with my starter it feels good!

[condemning-twitter]

First of all, and to get things straight: I am a biological woman, identifying as a woman and also identifying as a feminist. That being said, let's break this dumpster fire down.

What can be observed in this reblog chain is a bunch of self-identifying feminists (including radfems) stopping by the Tumblr post of a MINOR. Based on Tumblr guidelines, said minor might be as young as 13 years old and based on his own post, identifies as male. Furthermore, he is outspokenly leftist (statistically speaking, he is unlikely to have the mind of a misogynist). All of these can be found out by taking so much as five minutes out of your day to do some research rather than making snarky comments.

In his original post, OP expresses his concerns about the feminist movement and points out that man-hatred is actually counter-productive to a healthy pro women movement; And THAT is a legitimate concern and widely known issue.

While OP's message uses rough wording (to the point of other users framing his words as though he implied that the only natural response to unfair treatment is to exact unfair treatment on others) the core meaning holds true. Young children are IMPRESSIONABLE, in case you have ever wondered why young girls are so susceptible to grooming. Young boys are not deriving their behaviors from the void; they are being taught by someone. Who is that someone? Well, it depends on which group the boy in question feels most at home in.

Which one would you pick? The group that has piled or would be willing to pile roughly 100 hate reblogs on you for saying a slightly wrong thing or the group that is telling you that the other group is inherently stupid? One is invalidating you and offering an unsafe, unpredictable environment. The other is offering a validating and safe, predictable environment.

Teens are on a search for identity and connection. This usually causes them to search and find labels and groups to identify their own person by. Perhaps it doesn't ring any bells but "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth" and this applies here as well. The group that doesn't accept you is the enemy by default. This is why misogynists WANT boys to believe that feminists are anti male or male sexists; if one group is alienating you, you are left with the groups that don't. Preferably, you will then seek out a group that validates your (perceived) experiences of alienization. And that is the first step. The rest is a pipeline. Once you have identified with a group, your mind is fertile ground for their rhetoric.

You think being mistreated is no justification for being a horrible person? Neither do I! And neither did OP. The problem is that there's a certain cause and effect at play that's driving men away from us and to misogynists like Trump and Tate. Not exclusively, but it sure fucking helps. And considering your reaction, all of you either seem oblivious to that fact or too self-absorbed in your frustrations to care.

"If mean words are turning you into Hitler 2 bla bla" rich words considering there are likely dozens of grown-ass adults piling on a minor on this post and none of them have been called out yet. But no. Bad experiences don't justify bad behavior. Surely.

Even if the alienization is only perceived, it can- Oh wait. It is not actually just perceived, is it? Responses are ranging from "we had it worse and are justified in our anger; you are not" to hopefully sarcastic "men don't even deserve to exist" statements that cannot even be read as sarcastic because everything sounds the same on the internet.

Anyway, even perceived alienization can change a person's political affiliation for the worse. No, this cannot always be prevented. You are not being asked to pander to anybody - you are being asked not to offer young boys to self-proclaimed "alpha men" on a silver platter.

I hate to tell you (actually, no I don't), but we are living in a society comprised of both women and men. Feminism is a joint effort and not a game of Trauma Olympics like what you guys are trying to pull.

Hating on men and claiming masculinity is evil is going to have the complete opposite effect as to what you intended.

Let me set the scene, there's a freshly 13 year old boy, he's been told his whole life that boys don't cry, boys aren't allowed to have feelings. He gets internet access, and what SHOULD be happening is that people tell him that's all wrong and of course boys should have emotions, but that doesn't happen. Instead what happens is he gets met with dozens upon dozens of people claiming men DON'T have emotions. This boy tries to fight back, he replies to a post and he says that it's not true, boys aren't evil and they can be sad and hurt sometimes. What happens? People bully him. They laugh at him for being sad, say he deserves it. They tell him all men are horrible and he's destined to be evil.

What do you think happens? Do you think he's going to put in the effort to be a good guy? Fuck no. He's going to assume that's his fate and be shitty, because he was never met with kindness and understanding, he was told his kind is automatically evil.

[scoopsgf]

been seeing a lot of questionable takes on my dash lately, like “mitchum was right to tell rory she didn’t have it” and “rory writing a book about her life is stupid” and I’m just… stunned by them. not only are they flat out wrong, but both of them pointedly insult rory and her capability to perform as an adequate journalist and storyteller. we know rory has it because it’s established throughout the entire series—she does great at the franklin and even manages to put spins on what should be crap stories like the pavement piece; she also rises to the top at the YDN and becomes editor in chief. not only is she great when it comes to writing (which is drilled into the viewer and over—it’s an indisputable, canonical fact), but she’s also great under pressure and defying expectations. when she went to chilton the odds were against her—it was predicted that she wouldn’t be able to catch up and would flunk out. and what did she do instead? she became valedictorian and went on to attend an ivy league university. mitchum’s critique of rory is fucking laughable when you consider all of that, but it’s even more ridiculous when you factor in that he was barely around throughout her stint interning for him, and decided that she “didn’t have it” simply because she didn’t speak up during one meeting, even though doing so would usually be considered incredibly disrespectful. rory has amazing ideas and she’s fantastic at executing them, and we know she was a successful journalist until richard’s death, which is the only reason she was in a rut at all. therefore the idea that she “doesn’t have it” is, again, canonically incorrect.

as for the other thing, rory writing a book about her life is the opposite of stupid. to the people who agree with this: you do realize you just watched an entire show about her life and found it entertaining, right? it’s a memoir about her childhood, her relationship with her mother, and how being the daughter of a teen mother affected her. there’s absolutely a market for that sort of thing. not only that, but this is rory we’re talking about: she’s perfectly capable of translating the magic we see on screen onto the page. in fact, i think it’s kind of implied that the book will play out similarly to the show and have the same kind of vibe—it sucks you in and keeps you coming back for more. anyway, tl;dr, all the rory bashing and complete lack of faith in her ability to be a good journalist is pretty unfounded and unfair. i feel like it’s just another outlet that people are using to put her down, but it has no basis in fact (like most anti-rory takes).