#Just about 12 dollars is life changing

[xx-sketchy-xx]

You have peaked me interest..

And you’ve peeked his!

[actuallyverynormalbtw]

i dont like to talk about self-diagnosis because i dont enjoy people making assumptions about me, my illnesses, and my diagnostic status. but i will say:

i have self diagnosed and gone on to be medically validated with an official diagnosis. multiple times actually. i was never wrong about my self-diagnoses.

however, i have been misdiagnosed by professionals FIVE TIMES. and let me tell you, a professional diagnosis being wrong is far more harmful than a self-diagnosis being wrong.

if your self diagnosis is wrong, maybe you used the wrong language or put yourself in a box or now feel invalid and whatnot. but if your professional diagnosis is wrong, it can lead to abuse, medical trauma, panic attacks, issues with medication, even suicide.

i was misdiagnosed with BPD when i was 15 by a psychologist that i spoke to for hardly even 10 minutes. this diagnosis was based on my parent's description of my reactions to abuse, and the diagnosis was used to validate and excuse their abuse.

i was misdiagnosed with MDD when i was 12 and put through several different types of anti-depressants. we never found anything that worked, because it was actually ADHD and dissociation, but i did end up with panic attacks and insomnia all throughout middle/highschool!

when i self-diagnosed with autism however, it saved my life. it took me out of active suicidality because i was able to finally able to accept myself after years of feeling like i am just "being a person wrong". i had the knowledge to accomodate for myself and the language to advocate for myself. this was life changing. even if i was wrong, which i wasnt, i dont see how it couldve caused any harm.

my opinions on self-diagnoses arent black and white, and im not entirely settled on them either, but i do think this is important to understand. doctors and psychologists are not all knowing. we live in a time where we can access thousands of dollars worth of university level education on the internet, even the same exact resources medical students use. plenty of people are capable of interpreting themselves and that information to come to a conclusion about what they are experiencing and what might help.

sure, self-diagnosis might be biased. but a professional is most likely going to be just as biased, and possibly less aware of it. its just silly to use bias as a primary argument when it is an inescapable feature of human psychology. there is a reason ADHD is underdiagnosed in women. there is a reason anxiety disorders are underdiagnosed in men.

an incorrect self-diagnosis wont take away resources or your space in your comminities. but professional misdiagnosis can cause real damage.

(i am not trying to fear-monger about professional diagnosis, moreso responding to the fear-mongering surrounding self-diagnosis)

[wachtelspinat]

i can't help but feel like my drawing days are kind of over. not entirely, i'll still be drawing from time to time. and deffo not because i want to. but i'm having this exact same feeling since mid 2022, since i was really struggling with my elective period, i kind of disconnected with art there and never truly found my way back. on top of everything that came after - moving, starting a job and working to be good at it which leaves such little room for other things because i can't handle my life well - there is just so much horrible shit going on. and i'm having a hard time comprehending it.

a part of me also feels very stupid for drawing one thing for almost 4 years now constantly, but another part of me knows "hey, but this makes you happy". it's a constant battle in my head because online spaces are like school grounds, and i don't actually wanna stand in the corner as that one kid that just can't shut up about that one character. but then again all i ever did was drawing fanart so... what does it. who gives a shit. be cringe and be free alright. but it kinda feels so hollow, esp. when you're at it for so long. a lot of mutuals move on. some are not even active anymore anywhere. and i wonder what happened. plus a huge chunk of the tone of the fandom has changed. also with the source material getting butchered so hard (since the release of ow2) it just kills the fun. playing this game used to be fun. playing this game was one thing that helped me getting through the last meters of university. it's like watching the downfall of the simpsons again without making the comparison too set in stone, just... this thing that used to be decent and nice and watching it getting ruined in real time (broken promises about pve, the recent gameplay changes?? the lore was fucked up from the start but they kind of tried, now it's just skins for 20+ dollars) while still having feelings for the characters is shit. anyway...

i recently went through a big folder of stuff i'd drawn at the age of 12-15 and there were so many fucked up but cool monster and cyborgs designs and just silly stupid stuff and all i could think of was that i felt so distanced from it, like i don't even know i think this is normal? because a lot of time has passed and a lot has happened and i knew i've drawn all this but i wasn't able to locate the person who did in my present me now and... it's just so normal that things move constantly forward but i feel like i missed huge chunks and passed a few stops and now i'm kind of lost.

i don't even know what i'm trying to say here anymore. i just feel sad because it feels like sth is slipping out of my grasp or sth has changed tremendously and i don't know how to make damage control.

i keep trying tho, i try to draw once a week at least. it's just like as soon as i take a step back and look at it i don't feel it at all. gonna continue tho, until it makes sense again i hope.

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

thought to myself u know what. i havent watched falsettos enough. so here's a couple things i noticed in my latest impromptu rewatch (rewatch number 52th probably?? 67th?) + just some nice bits n parallel that are always Good (tm):

"he loves another" "i agree" with ("-man") going unsaid

the chess games following trina's song about stupid men and their little games

"that's the king. please protect him" That's marvin saying "please protect me. don't hurt me"

whizzer moves the pieces randomly in the revival but i like to imagine he's actually beating marvin at the game in the end... and the whole thing was him pretending to not know how to play, and that hurt marvin's ego more than anything

"now marvin, bend" as a sexy moment but later gets re-framed as a "unwillingness to change perspective" moment

"nothing is everything to me / except sex / and money" in that money whizzer is playing to marvin's insecurity that he's only sticking with marvin for his money- is so needlessly cruel (and thus such... delicious character writing lol)

"and he loves me so" that "so" at the end is sort of a "loves me so much" but also a dare. he loves me, so what can you even do about that?"

"ask me if i love him, it depends on the day"// "do i love him?… no"

"son with a brain, and nice bright mother" showing mendel is like marvin (+ many, many men) and wants a wife half just to do domestic labor for him (goes well with the "washing your laundry, washing your socks!" line)

"he loves his father" // "i love things i never had"

"im everything he wanted" here trina finally realizes how she was such a insecure woman for such a long time and why she could put up with so much / settle for so little ("love me for what i am, not what i try to be" etc)

i love that "what ive done to you is rotten" is the slap to trina, is not taking to jason about his sexuality, and is Also telling trina and jason he "never ever, wanted to love" them. triple treat of bad parenting lol (but our man gets there in the end #bless him)

"a man kid, you'll be kid, whatever your song" the kind of reversed coming out metaphor of it all. ugh. so good!! (also i always cry at this bit bc... i will never have this with my parents :) rip haha whoops)

"pretty boys are in demand" just a good line for the whole gay men dying everywhere + the 'dating frenzy' energy of the era

"im not a giant man" /"good" // "one day i hope to be / as mature as my son who is 12 and a half / and this tall… that's all i want to be, that's all"

"we'll spent BILLIONS of dollars" and then the actual thing plays the way it does

"making the most pathetical errors" as a metaphor for marvin's arc…. making constant errors in love but making a homerun at the end

"should i take this new promotion OR should i take this IBM job?" is an amazing, anti-corporate lyric that fits greatly w/ the most explicitly political (likely authorial) song in the musical that, imho, shouldn't have been cut in the revival. in hindsight tho i imagine the revival people felt very proud and """progressive""" when they made that cut lol is very much a typical liberal move: "cant have true emancipation or revolutions but u cant have some \~upward mobility in the job market xoxo". also on the same vein, cutting the line "i'll change my life, and hire a maid" from the og "and fire the maid" like it's this huge feminist moment lol ughhhh hh

(other line-cuts that frustrate me… "it's queer, mr. marvin", "i could use a little drink" and "i just bought a family" . i feel w/ all of these they tooks some "edge" of the OG characters and kind of attempted to make them "nicer". but it really just makes them a little flatter, a little less real) ( and also some scenes just plain make less sense (marvin's drink line leading to his outburst)

(but bc it's not All Bad sdklfj in fairness, i belie the whole "why don't we tell him, that we don't have the awnsers? (…) this is the start to his becoming a man" bit - is SUCH a great part for mendel, it goes so hard and from what i remember is not in the original falsettos? correct me if im wrong but if it was a new addition in the revival, imo it's a huge improvement to the scene flow… and dare i say, brings the whole climax together, and spells out The Aesop for people who hadn't gotten it by the end of Act 2) -"let me go, im not ashamed to have loved you" // "what's the matter trina, darling, why cant you let go?" -"feel all right for the rest of your life" The Message of the play implicit in it.. "even if it's cut short"

"you save lives, and i serve chicken fat / i can't fucking deal wit hthat" / "maybe is not dumb the way this whole thing ends / the food tastes really yummy!"

"it's about growing up, getting older, living on a lover's shoulder" /"but i confess, you grow up, you get old, you hate less"

"the ground shifting, the rules keeps changing" and it's when the set changes for the first time!!! (/eats all my walls)

"isn't it enough i love you every night?" "who?" // "we had trouble parking, just like on our second date" "i hyperventilate"

"good men never fail" // "but i can't help but feeling i've failed " proving once again those machista lessons marvin learned when young were wrong.... it's clear that him showing weakness at that moment to whizzer was The Right Thing To Do. and what the moment called for.

"the last little mountain ill climb" sound of music ref? maybe?

i only wanted to love and not be blamed " // "who would i blame my life on?"

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 1: Firsts

Word Count: 883/Rating: G/Pairing: None/CW: brief mention of financial hardships/Tags: Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, first concert

Divider credit to @silkholland

The first time Eddie Munson went to a concert–a real concert, not Hawkins Middle School’s annual talent show–was a night he would never forget.

Granted, it wasn’t the traditional concert experience. He didn’t see Black Sabbath’s members as they took to the stage, the lights illuminating Ozzy as he captivated the audience with only raw vocals and a microphone, the thousands of Bic-powered flames scattered throughout the cheering crowd when the band played “Iron Man.” But nothing about Eddie’s life was traditional thus far, and it was only right that this concert followed suit.

He’d first seen the advertisement in the record store one Saturday afternoon, three months’ worth of allowance in one hand and Van Halen’s self-titled album clutched in the other. The flier showed two pilots in their jumpsuits, standing in front of a fighter jet, with the following text in big, bolded letters:

BLACK SABBATH’S NEVER SAY DIE! TOUR TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12 @ 8 PM INDIANA CONVENTION CENTER TICKETS ON SALE NOW!

Eddie shoved the crumpled dollar bills at the cashier, waiting only to collect his change before bolting towards his uncle’s rusted Chevy.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie climbed into the passenger seat with a toothy grin. “Black Sabbath’s comin’ to Indianapolis! Can we go?”

Wayne glanced at his twelve-year-old nephew’s eager face, his heart lurching with the news he knew he had to deliver. “I’m sorry, kid. Money’s tight, and the plant still hasn’t given me back the hours they cut during the recession…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.

Never one to be deterred, Eddie pressed on. “What if I save my allowance every week? I won’t even buy lunch; I can just get chips from the vending–”

“You ain’t skipping lunch,” Wayne interjected sharply. “I bust my ass to keep you from going hungry, and I sure ain’t gonna let it happen over a concert. Is that clear?” He didn’t look away until Eddie nodded. “Besides, one ticket’ll cost more than you can save, let alone two.”

The boy slumped in his seat, record snug against his chest, but the argument faded from his lips. He knew Wayne was right; even tickets in the nosebleeds would be well out of his price range.

Eddie had mostly forgotten about the concert by September 12, his mind occupied with learning new songs on the acoustic guitar he’d thrifted. Despite constantly falling out of tune, it wasn’t a bad find.

Wayne was waiting for him in the trailer doorway when he got home from band practice, an unusual occurrence. He was normally sleeping when Eddie came home from school, trying to rest before a night shift.

“Is everything okay?” He didn’t remember having a doctor’s appointment, and the only other reason his uncle would be awake at this hour was… “Did someone die?”

Wayne shook his head and chuckled. “No one died. We’re just taking a little road trip.”

“To where?”

“You’ll see.”

After a long ride involving two separate McDonalds drive-thrus (Eddie was a growing boy, after all) and four separate bathroom breaks (in hindsight, the extra-large Pepsi wasn’t a great choice), they pulled into the convention center parking lot.

Wayne turned to his nephew. “Now, I don’t want you gettin’ too excited,” he started, but he was unable to mask the twinkle in his own eyes, “‘cause this ain’t exactly what you asked for. But you’re gonna follow my lead, and don’t say a word.”

“Are we seeing Black Sab–”

“What’d I say?” Wayne raised his bushy, graying brows. “Not a word.”

Eddie nodded silently, trailing behind his uncle as they walked into the venue. His eyes widened at the throngs of people waiting in the lobby. Everything was just so…big. 

“Now we wait,” Wayne whispered. Eddie didn’t bother asking what, exactly, they were waiting for. It only took a few minutes for the perfect moment to arise–the sound of fist striking jaw, security guards rushing to separate the two drunk men and leaving the entrance understaffed.

The older Munson gestured for Eddie to follow him, weaving through the sea of people until they reached the doors to the arena.

“Show’s sold out,” Wayne explained softly, “so we’re gonna stay out here, walk around, and try not to get caught.” He laughed when Eddie stared in disbelief that his straight-laced uncle was sneaking into a concert. “I used to have fun, y’know. I wasn’t always a hardass.”

Eddie smiled, the happiness thrumming in his belly growing to a stampede when he heard the crowd roar and the beginning notes of “Symptom of the Universe.” The music filled his bones and coursed through his veins, blanketing him in a warmth he’d never before experienced. He closed his eyes and pressed his ear to the wall, absorbing the vibrations from the deafening noise inside.

“I’m gonna be in there one day,” he murmured, “but not in the crowd. I’m gonna be on the stage.”

“Do I get backstage passes?” Wayne asked.

Eddie opened his eyes, not realizing that he’d spoken those thoughts aloud. Crimson colored his cheeks as he launched himself into his uncle’s arms. It had been awhile since they’d hugged like this, not since Eddie had developed the false sense of machismo that comes with entering junior high. His answer was soft but definite.

“At every show.”

--

[madlittlecriminal]

[INTRO] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

Warnings: mention of robbery, mention of Miguel missing breakfast, mention of Miguel being used for homework

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

To say his day was rough, was an understatement.

He felt as though no one paid attention to him for the simple fact that every little thing had gone wrong. It was worse when he got told one of his clubs got robbed by none other than Osbron's little crew.

If Miguel was being honest, he needed a damn drink. Unfortunately, he had a meeting with his Alchemax team in about an hour, so drinking was out of the question; he'd have to wait until after to have a drink, but he didn't really mind it as much.

He stepped out of the club after reviewing the damage, relieved that no one was hurt and that his rule was followed: give them the money as a life means more than cash. Plus, they robbed him on a slow night, so he lost about three grand in total from his bartenders' tips and the money from drinks. He simply reimbursed them and told them he makes more than that in an hour, so he didn't care.

He fixed his ruby colored sunglasses as his eyes traveled to the bakery across the street from his club. He tilted his head to the side, confused as to how he's never seen it before. "Is that bakery new?"He asked one of the bartenders at his club who shook her head with a grin.

"Depends on what your definition of new is, boss. It's been there since you hired me, and I've been working here for three years." Miguel's brows furrowed as she explained it to him.

"How am I just now noticing it?"

"Easy. You come to the club at 12 am. The bakery closes at 11pm."

"Why so late?"

"Because the ovens are cold by then. We're her last customers. Remember that concha Lyla gave you?" He nods. "It's from there. She does desserts from all over the world. She's talented." With that, the bartender takes her leave. Miguel tilts his head to the side before heading across the street and into the bakery. His nose is hit with the delicious scent of baked goods, some bringing him back to his childhood when his mother would bake for him and his brother Gabriel.

"I'll be with you in a sec!" You called out from where he believed was the kitchen. He doesn't respond, too focused on the orejas and the many pan finos you had. He took note of the flan, apple pies, banana bread, muffins, macarons, and more. His stomach growled, remembering he missed breakfast.

Then you appeared, flour on your cheeks and on your burgundy apron. You gave him a kind smile and he took off his sunglasses, putting them away and getting a better look at you from the natural sunlight that broke through from the window of your bakery. Were you real?

"How can I help you, sir?" His heart raced as his breathing hitched slightly. His palms were clammy with sweat, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the rush of nerves that entered his body or the heat from the bakery. Wait, was it hot in here?

"Uh...hi. C-can I get a piece of..." Miguel didn't trust himself to finish the sentence as he resorted to pointing at the stack of conchas. The last time he remembered being this nervous around a girl was back in high school when the cheerleader asked him for his help on biology homework. Unfortunately, he also remembers that she only flirted with him to get her homework done. He was glad they didn't have science together after that as he went to AP Chemistry the following year.

You smiled and nodded. "Chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?"

Once again, he didn't trust his voice so only pointed at the chocolate one.

"How many?"

He held up two fingers and you nodded. "Alright. Your total is $4.25. Cash or card?" You put the conchas in a bag as you waited for a response.

"Cash." He handed you a 20-dollar bill and took the bag. "Keep the change. Don't need a receipt." He quickly rushed out of the bakery without another word.

You stood there with the 20 bucks in hand, blinking down at the register in confusion. You put the cash in the register and put the receipt down. "Well, that wasn't weird at all." You mumble to yourself before heading back to the kitchen to check on the rasgulla you had cooling down.

———

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfics @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax

[andbreakmynose]

Sweet Birthday Baby

you and SIAS alex cleaning up your birthday party leads to unexpected feelings and tension

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: smut! unprotected p-in-v, oral (f receiving), praise!! lots of fluff and emotions, light angst, mention of body image

The party, your party, had been nothing spectacular. It was your closet friends taking a day off from recording to drink shitty beers and eat a store bought cake with you. It really wasn’t much at all but it meant a lot that they still cared.

When the ��festivities” ended and the rest of the guys packed up to go home, Alex, being the polite boy he always was around you, offered to stay over and clean up. How could you say no to that? So here you were sweeping up the leftover confetti they attempted to surprise you with and throwing away empty beer bottles, Alex humming along to whatever song he had put on in the background.

In between this song and the next he looked up at you with a small smirk, the smirk that always seemed present on his face these days. “Can’t believe you’re already 24. You’re a big girl now.” His voice is both teasing and kind, he leans against the counters in the kitchen and continues to watch you as you throw away the last of the garbage.

“I’m only a year younger than you,” you reply with an eye-roll that’s somewhere between playfulness and affection. The dynamic between you and Alex was always more loving teasing than anything else, it really hadn’t changed since you were both 12 and on the schoolyard. “Y’know most of the girls we went to school with are getting married and having babies now. And I’m basically still just a glorified groupie for a band of losers,” you add. The words were joking but there was an underlying melancholy there, sometimes late at night you would contemplate what life would be like if you actually had a job.

“Hey! We are not losers!” Alex acts offended at that part of your sentence, reaching up to poke your cheek with his slender fingers. He, being the perceptive bastard he was, also picked up on the sadness present within your words. Tilting his head a little he continued, “You’re still young, you don’t have to have to think about marriage or babies. Hell, I’m only a year older than you and I haven’t even considered it.” He hopes his words are reassuring and what you need, he doesn’t like to see you sad like this.

“I guess I’m just feeling old. I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your own feelings. It wasn’t that you particularly wanted children, and there definitely wasn’t anyone for you to get married to right now, but you still couldn’t shake the anxiety about falling behind. Alex pouts at you, he hates your anxiety and your self doubt. He almost made you feel guilty about your thoughts. “I’ll just try to enjoy being 24 I guess,” you add to reassure him, a small smile appearing on your face.

“That’s my girl.” Alex’s face lights up at your words, knowing that you’re not entirely miserable, and he brings his hand up to ruffle your hair before turning to the refrigerator. “You want another beer?” It’s not even a question, he’s already gotten two out and is already handing one over to you, to which you oblige. You sit down, opening your beer with your teeth. It was your favorite party trick, definitely one that made you the object of some teenage boy’s attention back home. Alex gives a small laugh at the familiar action and shakes his head, “Damn show off.”

He hops up on the counter behind you, creating some distance between your height and his. He opens his own beer and looks down at you. “I was thinking maybe I could take you to dinner tomorrow? I’ve been meaning to try this new fancy sushi restaurant and I haven’t really had an occasion. My best mate’s birthday is as good of one as possible.” He’s not asking this as any form of date or romantic advance, he genuinely wants you to have the best birthday possible, and he wants an excuse for 50 dollar sushi. It’s not like you and Alex haven’t gone to dinner together multiple times before.

“Just us?” you ask. It was a 50/50 thing usually on if it was just Alex or the rest of the Monkeys around. Part of you hopes it’ll just be you and Alex.

“Just us, birthday girl.” He smirks and reaches down to ruffle your hair again. It was an action that still always made you feel your cheeks heat up, you ignore it by taking a sip from your beer. “It’ll be my treat, plus I really want to go to this damn restaurant. I won’t even try to embarass you.” Key word try, he always found a way to embarrass you. If it wasn’t you getting embarrassed it would almost be adorable how big of a loser he was.

“Oh you wouldn’t dare to embarrass me. Besides, you’ll be wanting to impress all the rich girls at this place.” You smirk and pick the bottle up to your lips, taking a sip from the beer.

“You got me there,” he concedes, nodding once in agreement. “I do like showing off my wealth to pretty girls,” his tone teasing you and giving you a stupid wink. You make a ‘tsk’ noise and shake your head dramatically, pretending to be offended at the idea of him flirting with anyone else (although that did spark feelings in your chest you didn’t quite understand).

Alex raises his hands in defense of himself before gently swatting your arm, “Hey! I’m just fucking with you. You know you’re the only pretty girl I’ll be trying to impress tomorrow.” He tries to turn on that charm he was so well known for to tease you further. It was true though, he loved to spoil his best mate.

The words ‘pretty girl’ almost make you blush, almost, you’re able to fight it off and continue your playful demeanor. “You can impress me by letting me order the most expensive wine on the menu,” you smirk at him. You knew he would give in.

Alex takes a sip from his beer and smirks, even if it may drain his wallet (although let’s be real, it won’t) he really did love the idea of completely spoiling you. “Hey, go crazy. I’ll pay for anything and everything, remember? Order as much as you want, it’s a night of indulgence for my favorite girl.”

The grin on his face mirrors the one on yours, this birthday dinner suddenly sounding like the most appealing thing ever. Fancy food and the best wine money could buy, you were forever thankful your best friend was somehow loaded now. And maybe it’s the copious amounts of beer you may or may not have digested but your next words tumble out of your mouth somewhere between a truth and a joke. “You’re the love of my life, you know that?”

Alex keeps smiling at this, he knows you’re exaggerating and being a tease. But his brain does suddenly remind him of something Matt said the week before while they were drunk… ‘You’re so damn whipped Al, you’re practically in love with her…’

But Alex is in good spirits tonight and brushes that thought away, he doesn’t want to dwell on that and he’s honestly too drunk to do that. “You’re such a damn flirt,” he teases you, lightly kicking your knee with his foot and pouring more beer down his mouth.

“Only for you.” You laugh and wink at his words, just glad he didn’t take anything too seriously. You also weren’t ready to think about the implications of what you had said earlier.

He laughs softly at that, but when he sees your wink any words he could say get stuck in his throat. His heart starts to beat a little faster. “Aye careful, don’t go breaking my heart love,” he jokes with you before taking a drink to distract himself from whatever unpleasantly pleasant feeling was inside his chest.

“Oh I’d never break your heart, I’m not any of your ex-girlfriends.” It was a low blow, he had been through a pretty nasty breakup within the past year, but that was your dynamic. He could handle it, hell he had probably said worse about you during the party. You almost laugh at your own joke, it’s not even that funny. Alex just huffs out a laugh and pretends to be offended.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side!” He pouts dramatically at you, acting somewhat like a whiny child. He puts his beer bottle down to poke your forehead again. You look up at the finger on your head, he had nice fingers. He keeps it there for some reason.

“I am on your side, you’re just easy to tease,” you smirk and respond, still watching the finger on your head. He watches your smirk, a twinkle appearing in his eyes. He can’t deny that you had the cutest smirk in the world. He follows your gaze, noticing that his hand was large compared to the size of your head. And then he realizes he’s been staring for way too long and drops his hand back in his lap quickly, letting out a scoff at your words.

You take a drink from your beer in an attempt to recompose yourself, these are not the thoughts you should be having right now. Maybe it was just the beer talking, maybe you shouldn’t take another sip. You look around the kitchen for something else to say to change the subject, eyes landing on the blue birthday cake Jamie ordered you. “Y’know I wasn’t allowed to have a cake for my birthday after I turned 11? Mum thought it was ‘killing my body,’ whatever that means.”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his words coming out louder than he anticipated, “No cake! You got denied cake! That must’ve been hell, I feel bad for little girlie for not getting cake on her birthday,” He scoffs at the thought of your mum treating you like that, resting a comforting hand on your knee.

“She’d get me blueberry muffins, which was whatever… I guess,” you laugh and shake your head at the memory, looking down at your body for a second. “It doesn’t make sense to me anyways, it’s not like I was ever at risk of being dangerously unhealthy.”

“Muffins?” He says in complete perplexment, still shaking his head at the idea of being denied cake. He loves cake. He takes a good look at you and notices what you mean, you had the perfect body to him. “Your mum seems nutty to me. You were fine to eat cake! I remember what you looked like back then.” He says bluntly, almost offended at the idea.

“She is nutty, I’m perfectly healthy still. I don’t know how she was ever worried about my size.” You give a half-laugh and a shrug, running a hand through your hand.

“You are perfectly healthy. And the only size you are is fun-sized.” Alex jokes at you, reaching forward to boop your nose. He always loved touching your face, it would be annoying if it didn’t make your heart flutter.

You laugh at this, shaking your head again. “If by fun-sized you mean full of anxiety and a functioning alcoholic then yeah,” you joke back with him, also reaching forward to boop his own nose.

“Yeah right. You’re also cute as hell,” He adds on to make you feel better, even if you weren’t that sad. He just liked to compliment you. He swats your hand away from his nose and sticks his tongue out in retaliation. You roll your eyes and smile at his words. It was a genuine smile,, you didn’t get told you were ‘cute’ too much, it was usually some crude form of ‘sexy’ you heard from guy’s lips.

“Thanks, at least someone thinks that.”

Alex feels a pang of guilt at seeing the smile on your face and hearing your words. He knows that guys have used you for your looks and he knows the insecurity it’s brought upon you.

“Hey.” He says softly, reaching a hand up to gently cup your face. “Guys are assholes,” he tells you while stroking his thumb over your cheek. The simple action makes your heart feel things you really can’t understand at all, he was so tender around you sometimes. You have to ignore that and shake your head.

“You’d know a thing or two about that.” You follow your words up with an immediate swig of beer, a self satisfied smirk appearing on your face. It was so fun to tease him.

“Oh shut up!” He huffs jokingly and gently smacks your cheek, not hard at all, more like a tap. “I’m being nice and all I get for it is smartass quips? You’re the dick, you know that?”

You give a dramatic gasp at his ‘smack’, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “Smacking the birthday girl? That’s a real low for you, Turner.” You keep shaking your head and stick out your tongue out at him. If he wanted to act like a child, so would you.

“You’re not as cute when you do that,” he gives a pout and grabs your tongue between his fingers and tugs on it. “See, it’s not as fun when the tables are turned.” He laughs at his own actions, keeping your tongue firmly in between your fingers. You can’t exactly talk so the only way you’re able to respond is by closing your mouth and biting down on his finger. It’s not a hard bite but it’s still enough to hurt. When he pulls his finger away the smirk on your face is the widest it’s ever been.

“You bit me!” His eyes widen for just a second, a soft gasp leaving his pouty lips. It does hurt for a moment but he knows you only did it as a playful warning. He brings his finger (now slightly damp with teeth marks on it) back up to your nose, swatting it. “Bad birthday girl.”

This is about the funniest thing you’ve ever heard and seen. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you break into a hysterical fit of laughter for a solid two minutes, just guttural belly laughs. You even place your hand on your stomach in the giggles. When you start to speak you haven’t even fully recomposed yourself, some tee-hees still slipping out. “If you don’t want to be bitten, don’t stuff your fingers in my mouth.”

“Yeah? Maybe I should stuff something else in there to keep it shut.” He says his next words without even fully thinking about them. Feeling his face heat up instantly, cursing himself for blurting that out. God, why is alcohol a demon?

You could get flustered at this, it’d be so easy to get flustered at this. And the thought of sucking him off does pass through your brain, but you and Alex had had a relationship like this for ages so you’re able to push it back enough. “Yeah? I’m sure you’d like that,” is how you retort. Your eyebrows are raised and your tone is cocky. He is NOT allowed to fluster you.

Alex is the one who gets flustered, he’s trying not to become as red as a tomato but a blush is creeping onto his ears. He would like that, he’d really like that. Your pretty little lips wrapped around his… no. He can’t think about that. He’s known you since you were awkward limbs and still losing teeth. The idea of you in any other way is disturbing, even if he’s pictured it before during late nights with his hand wrapped around his long shaft.

You notice the blush on his face and almost feel bad, he was so shy sometimes. You didn’t want to make him embarrassed or uncomfortable, that would be shitty. “Hey no, I’m just fucking with you,” you grin to cheer him up. He nods and his eyes dart away, just the image appearing in his mind is making his jeans slightly tighter.

“Yeah, I was just fucking with you too,” he mutters under his breath, adjusting himself in his seat. Was he fucking with you? He didn’t know at this point, he’s honestly wanted you for so long but he really doesn’t want to ruin the dynamic you have with him, with everyone. If you didn’t want him back then he’d lose his best friend, and the band would lose their best friends. He couldn’t do that.

You’re watching him intensely, like a hawk circling its prey. You notice the hint of fear in his impossibly dark and big eyes, you notice the rose tint on his cheeks, and when you look too much you notice the faintest hints of something pressing against his jeans. You can’t resist anymore so you take his chin gently in your hands, you’re not sure if you’re trying to calm him down or trying to get him to kiss you.

And then, before you can even process it, his lips are smashed against yours. He’s leaning over the table, the wood pressing against his stomach. It’s uncomfortable but he doesn’t care, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him back, lips against lips, him gently parting your mouth open with his tongue.

His tongue slips only slightly into the caverns of your mouth before he pulls away, panting. “I’m sorry… I should’ve asked first…” His voice is full of regret and he seems like he genuinely feels bad about kissing you, even if you kissed back. He was such a shy, uncertain man sometimes. You found it endearing.

You take a second to think of the right words to tell him that it’s okay, but they all seem cheesy. A heat is starting to form in your lower stomach and you don’t feel like doing a rom-com love proposal yet, you just want HIM. So you smash your lips against his again, this time harder and with more passion behind it. He gasps into the kiss initially but quickly matches your force, letting his tongue return to wear it was when you left off.

Your belly is now also uncomfortably pressing against the table and the kiss has become a dance of teeth on teeth and tongue on tongue. It’s not pretty but it’s hot, and exactly what the both of you need. He starts to run his hand down your chest when you finally pull away again.

“I want to do this properly.” You say firmly, standing up and already starting to walk towards your bedroom. “I’ve wanted this for long enough. I’m having you in my bed and not on my damn kitchen table.”

He laughs at first but his eyes tell a different story, they’re wide and full of both a shock and desire you’ve never seen. “You’ve wanted me for…a while?” He asks, following you into your bedroom. “I have too… everytime I’ve been in this room I’ve thought about every way I could fuck you in here.” He adds, getting a little bolder now that he knows you want him just as bad as he wants you.

“Then do it.” You reply, voice somewhere between a coo and a whine. You sit down on your king sized bed and start to slowly pull up the edges of your blouse, trying to tease him. But he just tuts and shakes his head.

“No.” He grunts, walking towards you and placing his hands at the hem of your blouse. “I’ve waited long enough for this, I’m taking your damn top off.” And then your top is off. You didn’t think of wearing your sexiest lingerie, you didn’t expect this to happen at all, but it’s your birthday so you decided on a decent pair. While you’re wishing that you wore the pair you bought last birthday, he’s biting his lip and taking deep breaths.

“Gorgeous.” He remarks before he reaches around your back to undo your bra. With the angle his, still clothed, belly button is close to your face, and you can see how incredibly hard he is. You’re about to say something about it when he beats you to the punch. “Perfect fucking tits. Can’t believe you hid these from me for 10 years.” His voice is raspy and his voice makes you shudder, you’ve never felt more turned on from anything else in your life.

He presses his lips against yours but it’s only for a second before he pushes your back against the plush bedding and is hovering over you, tracing his lips over your neck. He practically inhales the skin of your neck into his hot mouth, sucking and biting on you like you’re the best popsicle he’s ever had. When he pulls away there’s an angry maroon mark, which he gently ghosts his fingers over. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen, you covered in his work.

He then looks down and decides he’s had enough of your neck and attacks his lips to your nipple. You were already a panting mess but this… this sets you off. “Fuck… Alex!” You cry out, feeling how his tongue perfectly swirls around the rosy bud on your chest. He only pulls away to speak for a split second before turning his attention to your other nipple, “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Your back is starting to arch and you’re wet in ways you didn’t know was possible, you bring your hand into your skirt to try and get some relief, rubbing yourself over your panties. His eyes trail down to your action and he grunts against your nipple before sitting up and, at a speed that seems superhuman, removes his t-shirt. His chest was toned and quite frankly, gorgeous. Everytime the two of you had gone to the beach it had taken everything in you to not just stare at him all night long.

He smirks at the awe in your eyes before grabbing your hand, bringing it to his belt. “Help me out?” It’s not a question, more of a demand. And you oblige, instantly sitting up slightly to undo his belt and then unzip his jeans. The first moment of contact between you and his clothed hardness has you gasping, and you can almost feel the wetness in between your thighs starting to pool on the bed below you. He snickers at this and shimmies out of his jeans, his boxers following just as quickly. He didn’t care about foreplay, he had to have you now.

“I’m going to eat your pretty pussy now.” He says firmly, like he didn’t even think about it. And then his fingers are on the edge of your skirt, pulling it down. He snickers again when he sees the large wet spot on your panties, it was endearing to him. You watch him with lust-blown eyes as he slips those off as well and then runs a finger through your folds, causing you to arch your back and gasp. You felt like a teenage virgin getting touched for the first time, just a gentle ghosting of his fingers has you acting like this.

“Wet.” He remarks huskily with a smirk before getting on his knees on the floor, placing wet kisses along your lower stomach and upper thighs. You can already tell you won’t last very long, just his breath being within proximity of your cunt is making you feel things you’ve never felt before. He notices this and, without warning, attaches his lips to your clit. You practically jolt on the bed, letting out an utterly guttural moan that you’re sure that everyone in the entire city could hear. He sucks at your clit like a man starving, bringing up a slender finger (the same slender finger that poked your face earlier) to enter you.

“Bloody brilliant.” He murmurs against your clit, gazing at your folds. They’re everything he’s ever wanted to see, even prettier than he imagined. He moves his mouth away from your clit to circle his tongue around your entrance, but he doesn’t ignore it. He brings his thumb up to rub the little button fiercely. The mewls this drawing from your mouth being beyond music to your ears.

You fall into this dance for a short while, you’re getting louder and needier with your moans and he’s getting sloppier with his tongue. He can tell your close and he’s eagerly anticipating how your cum will taste in his mouth. “Close… Alex please…” you scream, grabbing a hold of his head to push his nose against your clit. His perfect nose, and it feels even more perfect. He nods in understanding and starts to lap at you faster, even gently grazing your folds with your tongue. He gently pinches your clit and then that’s it.

The orgasm caused by him is a spiritual experience. You’re crying and screaming and feel more liquid leave your body than a damn waterfall. Your vision is blurry and your legs are shaking. It feels like heaven to Alex. You taste like heaven to Alex.

When your legs finish shaking he sits up, his beautiful lips coated in your juices. “Taste fuckin’ delicious babe.” He says with a smirk before hopping up on the bed, “But I’m going to fuck you now.” And then he’s maneuvering your body so that he’s slotted in between your already spent legs, the bed definitely needing a change of sheets.

“But what about what you said earlier? I could suck your-” You’re practically babbling when he interrupts you. You’ll do anything for his large cock in any part of your body. He just laughs at your state and shakes your head, you’re adorable. “It’s your birthday, angel. I’m here to make you feel good. So now I’m gonna fuck you.” He repeats his words from earlier and you nod, too light-headed to think of anything else.

“Good girl.” He smiles at you before pressing his lips against yours again, this one softer than before. He kisses you as he moves his hips further before he gently slides his cock into your hole. At the sensation you gasp and bite your lip so hard you swear you can taste blood. It’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt, pure ecstacy in your body.

Alex checks to make sure you’re okay before starting to move, setting a pace that’s both slow and hard, every thrust reaching a part deep inside you that makes you mewl for more. You start to paw at his back and whimper, repeating the word “harder” a few times. To which he obliges, of course, speeding up his hips until the rhythm is nothing short of pornographic. You’ve never been fucked like this before, every lover before is obsolete to the amount of love and desire in your bed right now.

You can feel his hard cock pulse inside you and both of you know it won’t be much longer, you’ve both wanted this for so long that the emotions of the moment are overcoming you. His cock is still hitting your walls with such perfect pleasure and he brings his thumb back to your clit, making you gasp again.

His thrusts start to get sloppier again and your breathing starts to become irregular, and he pulls away from your lips to stare into your eyes. “Can I cum inside? Is that okay?” Your Alex, as sweet and caring as ever. He’s willing to cum anywhere… but inside of you sounds the nicest. And you seem to agree as you nod and arch your back, using your hands to pull him further into you.

And then it’s like time slowed. If you thought your orgasm from earlier was intense… The one triggered by feeling his hot loads spilling inside of you is earth shattering. He starts to shake and collapses on top of you. You close your eyes and have to take at least 30 deep breaths to stable yourself. His hot cum is spilling out of your pussy and his hot body is still on top of you… and you think you may be in love with him.

After a second of just sitting and breathing he sits up and looks at the mess in between your thighs, “I’ll go get a towel… and I’ll get you something to take care of that in the morning I-” You shake your head and laugh. “I’m on birth control, don’t worry.” You smile at him and he smiles at you before he walks to your en-suite bathroom to grab a washcloth. Even for the thirty seconds he’s gone you feel alone.

When he returns and starts cleaning your thighs up you feel the fondness in your chest that you always feel around him, but this time it’s stronger. It’s… love? “That was nice,” you say softly, watching him with so much awe in your eyes as he gently cleans you up.

He places a gentle kiss on your lips and throws the towel on the ground, “It was nice. You’re nice. And perfect.” He smiles at you again, his warm eyes so kind and gentle.

“You wanna spend the night? And then we can talk about this all in the morning… I’m just worn out.” You give a small laugh and he nods, collapsing on the bed next to you before pulling your head against his shoulder, littering your hair with small kisses as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You could get used to this.

“Good birthday gift?” He asks after a moment of silence, running his hand through your hair. You respond by placing a kiss on his jawline. Best birthday gift. You not only got the fuck of your life but now you have him, and you never want to lose him.

AN: this is my first fic!! pls lmk what you think or what i can do to improve! i'm just so obsessed with al <3

[birdiesaves]

THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !

mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. 

i’m pretty much fucked. 

they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.

i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.

what do you know? i’m in command.

it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do. 

in your position i would have done the same thing. 

it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.

everyone thinks i’m dead. 

ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.

i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.

fear my botany powers!

but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.

i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.

i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________

bleh. i’m going to bed

my life depends on you

i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.

i have an idiotically dangerous plan 

i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.

the answer is: i don’t know.

all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me

also, i have duct tape. 

after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.

that was sarcasm, by the way.

this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.

do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?

how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals! 

i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!

now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.

i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?

the whole world’s been rooting for you. 

really looking forward to not dying. 

please watch your language.

sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.

you're sort of a smart-ass.

your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.

no. you’ll fuck it up and die.

i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.

i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.

the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws. 

named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.

i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.

your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.

why are you such a nerd?

you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.

you started my training by buying me a beer.

so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....

frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.

just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?

no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...

for now i just want to go home.

there's always hope

are we just watching a tragedy play out?

you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will. 

i've defiled enough historical sites for now.

tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!

tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!

be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.

i remember when you were shy

the attitude comes with the job

and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”

there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.

what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?

how do you come up with this shit?

i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.

i need you to come back in and make a bomb.

i knew that guy was a mad scientist!

i think we should just go with my iron man idea.

well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander. 

give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.

i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.

i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries. 

they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.

yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do. 

[lakesbian]

alec's specific brand of trauma is Really Something because it's like. having a father who only interacted with him to scare the piss out of him for any perceived slight and/or with the explicit intent of psychologically breaking him: pretty bad. being groomed into hypersexuality & child prostituted: also pretty bad for his mental wellbeing. but being forced to torture and/or murder people, being coerced into a state where he's capable of unflinchingly raping people before he's thirteen--being groomed into becoming his father--is like. a Very Specific Level Of Issue. systematic stripping of not only physical and sexual autonomy but ethical autonomy, being turned into nothing but an extension of the violence enacted by the person he hates most. full ownership over his body and mind.

like, when you're 12 and shooting someone because daddy said if you don't he's going to shoot you, you do the action first, you alter your mind to be Okay With It afterwards--because if you're not okay with it you're going to break--and then there's nothing of you left because it's all been taken away or changed so you could survive. just sort of utter nothing-matters nihilism by age 13 because he wasn't allowed to have anything for himself, not even the most basic moral compass, not even the ability to walk away and tell anyone about what happened to him without being seen as rotten himself, an abuser first and a victim second. no one will ever talk about what happened to alec without the caveat of "but." the caveat of "he was just a kid, but he still..." he doesn't get to show himself to anyone without the awareness that he's going to be seen as some form of fundamentally bad just by virtue of being a vasil, of having done the things that vasils do.

literally no wonder one of the only times he's ever even remotely visibly upset by something is when taylor--literally one of the only people he has in life, part of the closest thing he has to a family--insinuates he might want to turn out like his father, when the most core aspect of his trauma is not what was done to him but what he was turned into. if there's one thing that can upset him, it's the idea that he's still seen as that 13yo kid who was more of heartbreaker's weapon than he was a person, or that he's seen as wanting to be that way. he spends the first 13 years of his life having any attempt at establishing any form of his own identity razed down before it can even begin--as of story start, he's had all of 2 1/2 years to become his own person, because everything before that belonged solely to his father. so he is sort of ridiculously well-adjusted given the circumstances. but awful by any other metric--and there's the caveat, of course, the But, because the ability to make decisions that don't result in people saying But was very intentionally taken from him.

and when he does finally find something (someone) to care about, when he reclaims the ability to have his own strong emotions and desires and moral compass, he cares about it so much he dies for it. he's been waiting his entire life to have something he's allowed to care about and when he finally gets it, when he finally has that autonomy, he chooses to do the most unselfish possible thing with it. it's a single moment of refutation against everything he was molded to be--everything he still doesn't know how not to be, sometimes--where he realizes that, fuck it, he just wants to do something good for what he cares about. wants it more than he wants anything else on the planet, more than a million dollars or any amount of fame. he's finally in control of his body and his mind and his feelings, after 13 years of being a marionette and 2 years of slowly learning how to cut off the strings, and he decides that what he wants, now that what he wants actually matters, is to give all of himself to doing something good because he cares. in the end, he finally got to define himself by what he wanted to be instead of what he was made to be, and what he wanted to be was a good friend.

it's a good character arc okay. i like it.

[sindri42]

What is capitalism if private ownership and monopolization are out

This is about the insulin thing, right? Let me walk you through the steps.

The current situation is, there are three big corporations making insulin. They make it for super cheap, like $2 a dose or something including packaging and distribution and all that jazz, but they know that people need this stuff in order to not die, so there's no reason to restrain themselves as far as pricing goes. So they sell the stuff for like $500 a vial, earning a tidy 25,000% profit, because what are customers gonna do, not buy it?

In a capitalist system, this is a huge opportunity for anybody with a few thousand in seed money and a smidge of ambition. The process of making insulin is hardly a secret. I might not have the economy of scale going and I need a big up-front investment for equipment, but even if it costs me five times as much per dose to produce the stuff, that's still less than 2% of the current market price. So I start making and distributing the stuff for $10 a vial, and selling it for $400, and all the customers see that they can get the same product for $100 less so they stop buying from those three big companies and start buying from my startup. Then a month later, somebody else comes along with the same idea but undercuts me, and I lose all my customers to sombody willing to sell the stuff for $350, but that's fine I just change all my labels to sell for $300 and they come rushing back, and I'm still making $290 pure profit on every vial. Fast forward a couple years, and the market price of insulin is like, $12 a vial tops, because if you try to get profit margins any bigger than that you're the most expensive option and nobody buys from you. There was never any altruism involved in that process, no magic, no glorious savior who figured out a way to impose their will upon the world in order to save lives, just ordinary greedy humans fighting each other to make more money for themselves, but the end result is that the people who need this stuff to survive get it for a tiny fraction of what they used to be paying.

In the system that we're actually using, the three big corporations go to the government with three big suitcases full of cash, and the government passes a law that says anybody who tries to make insulin who isn't one of the three big corporations goes directly to prison forever. All the competition vanishes, and without the risk of somebody selling the same product for less they're able to keep raising the price as much as they want. I mean, if you get up to the point where the majority of your customers literally can't buy it anymore and they die then you have fewer customers, so going up into the millions per vial would be counterproductive, but as long as the majority of people who need insulin can just barely scrape together enough, you maximize your profits. And all it costs is widespread human suffering and a few surprisingly affordable bribes.

And then here's the really funny part: the corporations that benefit most from government interference in the market? They're the ones that fund all the media that convinces kids that the solution to all their problems is to give the government even more control over every aspect of life. They're the ones who pushed the narrative that 'libertarian' is synonymous with 'pedophile'. They're the ones who bury stories about corrupt politicians so you never question how a congressman can have a salary under $200,000 a year, go into the position with a net worth of a million dollars, and come out eight years later as a billionaire. Almost every "anti-capitalist" movement out there, if you follow the chain of evidence back, is funded directly by the corporations it claims to oppose, because shifting the balance of power further away from the individual and more toward the State means more profit for the people who are in a position to manipulate the state.

Now, this isn't to say that a free market is without problems. If there was zero regulation of the production of insulin, then a particularly unethical person could undercut the legitimate sources by making a loose approximation of the product people need for much cheaper by using dangerous or ineffective methods, and then sell it at prices that legitimate manufacturers can't compete with because the purchase price is lower than the manufacturing price. Which means that when you buy insulin, you would need to do your own research into who's got a reputation for quality, and there would be people who straight up die because they decided to go for the $4-6 "insulin" instead of the $12-15 insulin. But I'm pretty sure that would still be better than the only option being $500.

[harrysfolklore]

another year

a/n: hi guys happy new year ! this blurb is inspired by the songs “another year” by finneas and “new year’s day” by taylor ! i really hope you like it <3

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Glitter covered the floor as upbeat music played all over the rooftop you and Harry were currently in, a handful of close friends and family gathered to say goodbye to 2022 and celebrate the upcoming new year.

You had a lot to be grateful for as you took in the last moments of 2022. It was the year that made you realize that love is not something that knocks on your door, it just barges in, and as you reminisced about all the moments you spent with Harry this year, including your first 'I love you', first anniversary and first holidays together, you grew emotional over reading the last page of a wonderful chapter of your life.

However, you were excited for the new year that was about to start, knowing that it'll be filled with moments next to the love of your life. From a stranger's eyes, it would seem like yours and Harry's relationship took off faster than an airplane, but the way you could draw each other with your eyes closed proved that what you had was strong.

Your train of thought was interrupted by two strong arms wrapping around you and a familiar scent that you knew all too well, belonging to the man that made the last 365 days worth it.

"I was looking everywhere for you, thought you'd ran off to find another bloke to kiss when the clock strikes 12." Harry said as he leaned his cheek into yours, making you tilt your head and place a kiss on his jaw.

"I thought about it, but none of the blokes around the area have a bank account as fat as yours." you joked for a moment, feeling his chest vibrate against your back as he let out a small chuckle.

"So that's all you want me for, the couple of dollars I have on my bank account?" he joked back, putting an offended tone on his voice to go with his act.

"That and your fantastic arse." you made him chuckle again and place a couple of sloppy kisses to your check before falling into a comfortable silence for a bit.

You were in a less crowded area of the rooftop your friends rented for the celebration and the loud music that played on the dance floor was just background noise for you, and as you stood wrapped up in your love's arms, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, your only wish for 2023 was to spend every minute with him.

"What's on your mind?" Harry said after spending a couple of more minutes in silence.

"You know, just thinking about how believing that Jesus Christ was born to save us it's an awful lot of pressure for a baby and that's why New Year's is the superior holiday." you shrugged after speaking, making Harry let out a laugh once again.

"You're mental," he began, "Are you drunk already?"

"Nope, I've been having mocktails all night, I'm not in the mood to get hammered." you said as you turned around to have a proper look at him for the first time since he approached you.

He looked absolutely dreamy, cream colored trousers and black button up shirt adorning his body, along with his sparkling green eyes and red tinted lips from the glass of wine he had a few moments prior.

"That's good, saw NyOh barefoot in the lobby with her heels in her purse, she's hammered already and it's not even midnight" it was your turn to let out a small chuckle at the your friend and her way to celebrate the new year.

"Any resolutions for the new year, baby?" Harry spoke again, running his hands through your arms as a way to warm you up a bit, the chilly air kicking in and making goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I don't really believe a resolution's gonna change me," you began, "But I would love to be a bit more open to the though of failing, you know? I just want to be a little less of a perfectionist and let things be a bit messy if they have to be." you shrugged and a smile appeared on Harry's face, he felt proud of your statement.

"What about you, lovie?" you let him pull you into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his strong ones take over your shoulders.

"Honestly, to have the gorgeous girl around my arms next to me for another 365 days." his statement made your heart melt, your wish was the same as his.

"You're such a sap, you know?" you threw your head back to look at his eyes, the sparkle on them still present.

"And I love you more and more each day, you know?" and without further notice and before you could reply, he crashed his lips to yours, making you savor the aftertaste of wine from his lips, he moved his arms from your shoulders to grab your face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

You pulled away after a few more seconds to speak, "Easy there, tiger. You can't shag me before midnight." he rolled his eyes with affection for a second, placing a final peck to your lips.

"I can shag you whenever I please, thank you very much." It was your turn to roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeats softly and feeling his hand caress your hair.

"You know, you take the piss at me for being a sap, but right now I can't find poetic ways to say that I hope this lasts another year" he spoke again, letting his words linger in the air and making your heart melt once again.

"I have no clue of where I'll be next year, but I want to be next to you for as long as you'll have me, lovie." you told him withe the softest voice you had, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with him.

"Who's the sap now, huh? Aren't you just a softie, baby?" he teased you for a minute, kissing the side of your face obnoxiously and tickling your sides a bit.

"Let's gather with the rest, It's time for the countdown." you ignored his remark and grabbed his hand to drag him to where everyone was getting together to count down the seconds before 2023.

Placing yourselves next to Mitch and Sarah, Harry stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, his tall figure towering over you.

"10..9..8.." Jeff, the host of the night, made everyone chant along with him, excited grin's on everyone's faces as they got eager for the clock to hit midnight.

"5...4...3...2...1! Happy New Year!" everyone around the room erupted in cheers and celebratory claps, Jeff even popping open a bottle of champagne.

Harry's hands on your hips made you turn around to crash your lips into his, and in that moment you knew you wanted to start all of your years this way.

"So, another year?" He breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours and his hands not leaving your face.

"Another year." you promised, and with that your lips were against each other again.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay

[izurusstuff]

Coal Miner's Daughter

(click here for last chapter)

｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⛓ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 💣⛓.⋆｡⋆˚

message from izurusstuff: okay hi i promise snow comes in on the next part [insert pleading eyes here], i just didn't want to overwhelm people with so so much, so i divided it into two sections but you'll thank me for that,, he's going to be serving cunt and being the literal best teenage murderous villain <33

im literally writing pt 2 rn for y'all bc ilysm, bear with me

[𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟'𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭]

summary: Y/n and Ridge are navigating their new life after y/n's betrayal. It's the first day, but things are already so different.

*:･ﾟ✧* "...𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞..." ･ﾟ✧*:

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

May 31st, The Hob, District 12.

Y/n dropped the expensive ivory guitar Savani had gotten her the day prior. The wood broke into splinters everywhere… about two thousand dollars worth of precious wood was currently laying in pieces on the floor of The Hob. Bystanders looked on in shock at what they saw go down… but Mayor Yearwood was furious. Not at his daughter who just backstabbed her best friend, but at y/n. 

The heartbroken girl was running through the meadows back to her house. Tears flew from her face and her heart weighed more than the world. Y/n ran past the lake that the three were at just the night prior… when everything was okay. When her heart didn't get grinded up into powder by two of her favorite people. When she knew she was loved. So much changed in less than a day. It was all so fast, it felt like a carousel ride she couldn’t get off of… and it was fucking horrifying.

When y/n stepped foot into her house, she ran into her room and destroyed all the artwork of the trio. She stupidly flushed all the jewelry down the toilet… she was so upset that it didn't cross her mind that she could sell it. She wanted to get rid of every single memory of Leif and Savani. Including living in District 12 with them.

Ridge ran into the house a few minutes later. It was quite obvious y/n had outran her poor dad; he was unbelievably out of breath when he finally got there.

“Kid…”

Y/n looked at her dad. She tried to speak. Nothing came out of her mouth other than loud wails… Ridge somewhat understood her heartbreak; it’s exactly what he went through when y/n’s mom died. He held his poor daughter in his soot-covered hands, which got all over her celebration dress. He wasn’t exactly the best at comfort, but y/n knew he was there for her and truly loved her. 

“C…can I come work in the mines with you, Daddy?” Y/n said through her sobs. Ridge thought it was an unusual request, but he knew letting y/n stay in the house would only make her feel worse, so he nodded. 

“You can come with me tomorrow. Beware though, you’ll be the only lady there. The boys might be shocked.” Ridge joked. He wasn’t exactly lying– she’d be the only female there, but he wouldn’t tolerate any of his fellow miners being rude to his precious daughter. 

“You don’t have to be alone, sweetheart. We’ll get through this together. Just like we always done. Ain’t gonna let no one hurt you…” He said, squeezing y/n tighter. Ridge may have not been able to prevent y/n’s heart from getting broken this time, but he wasn’t going to let it happen again. He didn’t give a damn if he had to buy a shotgun with all the money he had. No one would treat y/n like this… because it broke his heart too. If it wasn’t for him trying to stay strong for her, Ridge would also be sobbing. He felt like the worst dad ever for not being able to protect his daughter from people so cruel… people he trusted. 

“...I love you, Pa.” Y/n didn’t say that phrase often, but she really should. She truly loved her dad. Ridge always bent over backwards to make sure she was clothed and fed. He’d often spend days straight in the mines around her birthday and holidays just so she could have presents. And in that moment, y/n was beyond grateful for him.

Ridge was trying his hardest not to break down crying in that moment. But it didn’t work… tears fell from his eyes just as fast as y/n’s did. Neither of them said anything, but they basked in each other’s heartbreak. The two ended up falling asleep like that…

June 1st, Vespertine Residence, District 12. 

Ridge and y/n had fallen asleep on the croaky, old, wooden floor of y/n’s room while they embraced. Y/n’s head was on Ridge’s shoulder, and his head was on top of hers. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of positions, but the idea of it was wholesome. 

The two didn’t wake up until the cliche cawing of a rooster was heard in the distance while they felt the pastel orange sun shine down on them through y/n’s open window… and both of them groggily woke up. For a split moment, they’d forgotten why they were asleep like that to begin with. But reality set in not long after.

“Still plannin’ on going to the mines today, kid?” Ridge asked, standing up and brushing himself off. Y/n nodded. It wasn’t the ideal job by any means, but she knew the Yearwoods and Leif would try to look for her. And she did NOT want to deal with it.

“Alrighty then.” Ridge walked off to his room, which was only on the other side of the kitchen, opposite of y/n’s. After a second, he tossed y/n a… very… very… dirty uniform.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t have you ruinin’ your dresses.” He responded after he saw the disgusted look on her face… great. She had to wear her dad’s old uniform that’s been around for God knows how long. Why didn’t she see that coming? But there wasn’t any backing out now. Y/n shooed Ridge and began putting on the uniform… 

June 1st, Yearwood Mansion, District 12.

Unlike y/n, Savani slept peacefully. She finished up her dad’s birthday party with Leif by her side… and not once did they think of y/n. Savani got to get the sleep, food, and energy y/n deserved. Why did she get to crush y/n and act like nothing happened?! It was infuriating, but only for y/n. Everyone else was ecstatic for Savani and Leif… like y/n never existed or even mattered to anyone. 

The young heiress woke up that morning in her silk pajamas and her luxury bed. She didn’t fall asleep from being so exhausted because she cried her heart out to her dad. It was everything y/n deserved. 

It was almost as if… Savani wanted to erase y/n from the start. She probably was an embarrassment to her and Leif. So they betrayed her, that way they wouldn’t be labeled as classists for cutting off their peasant “friend.” That was probably why everyone supported Leif and Vani’s relationship… because everyone knew y/n lived in a three room house with her dad on the very outskirts of the district. Everyone knew they could only afford “soup” that contained water and one vegetable… they knew the soup only had spices in it on y/n’s birthday. 

The Vespertines were nothing but savage, poor, vain peasant folk. People only tolerated them because y/n was “best friends” with Mayor Yearwood’s daughter. Now they didn’t have to hide their disgust anymore.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Savani said in a cheery voice as she walked into her kitchen that was nearly twice the size of y/n’s entire house. “‘Mornin’, darlin’.” Tripp said. His voice nearly sounded like a growl. Vani didn’t care, though. She’d always gotten everything she wanted… and now, Leif was hers too. 

“People’re talkin’ about that stunt you pulled yesterday on y/n, Savani.”

“So?”

“Savani. Now we all know damn well, I never cared much for y/n… but people don’t need to know that. You’re makin’ it seem we’re out to get her right before The Reaping. What will they think if y/n gets drawn to go in?”

Shit. Tripp was right. The Reaping for The Hunger Games was only a little over a month away. If y/n were to get picked…

“So be it. She’s everything the Capitol thinks of us… dirty, poor, hungry, angry, savage. Ain’t much of a loss if she gets picked.” Those words really sunk in for Tripp… maybe if he rigged the drawing, his precious daughter could live her happy ever after with Leif…

“I ‘spose you’re right. Be unfortunate if she got picked…”

June 1st, Everdeen Coal Mine, District 12.

Y/n arrived with her hair in pigtails. Although she was wearing a decade old mining uniform, she made it her own. She flaunted it with confidence… she knew Savani could never do such a thing. Vani could probably put on the uniform, but she’d only do it for publicity. Y/n got to actually work; which wouldn’t be so wonderful if she wasn’t so excited to use a pickaxe to take her anger out on poor rocks. 

She walked closely behind her dad, who was strutting in the mines. Everyone there seemed to know her dad’s name, which kinda made her feel inferior… inferior. To her own dad. At his job. Her confidence really took a deep dive after yesterday, huh?

“Hey Ridge! That your daughter?” An old man shouted, pointing to y/n. 

“Sure is, Billy!”

“Really grown up on us!” The man said. Y/n was… terrified. She thought she’d be ridiculed the second she picked up her pickaxe. “She’ll be a hard worker if she’s anything like her daddy!” Y/n let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord… people here in the mines didn’t judge. It was refreshing. But it’s expected that men who wore working their ass off just so their family could buy a single head of cabbage would be understanding. 

Time to get to work.

[justplainwhump]

Over

Dany is captured by WRU.

A part of Angel's story.

Written for Whumpmas in July @whumpmasinjuly-archive , day 12, Caught.

Content / warnings: Abduction, betrayal, character death, whumper pov, thoughts about noncon, vibes of unhealthy relationship dynamics (m/f).

Had it been up to Frankie to choose the last day of this life, it defined wouldn't have been a Monday. The Hammonds' weekly security briefing was tedious and dull. Especially today. Especially when the sun was shining, especially when his flight to the Caribbean was -

"Frankie." Peter snapped his fingers. "Focus. Look at these photos. Anyone on these shows up near her, you get her away. The Chernovs are pissed because of the boss' latest move, and they won't hold back."

Especially when Frankie knew in detail what - no, who the biggest threat to Dany was today. He had to bite back a smirk.

"The Chernovs won't get to her," Frankie assured, peeking at the clock in the corner. "I'll keep her close."

Josie leaned back and chuckled. "Yeah. We all know just how close she keeps you."

Peter clicked his tongue. "We don't talk about the junior like that, Josie. She's an adult, she's a professional, and so is Francis. When he's listening."

"Yeah. I've got her," Frankie repeated and peeked at the clock on the wall. "And she's going to insufferable when I'm late to pick her up. So. Excuse me."

"Watch out for these guys."

"I will."

He'd been even more attentive than usual, lately, Frankie thought as he jogged towards her office. He knew WRU was scouting them, and he'd clocked some of their agents. Whom he he'd been truly on the lookout for, however, was the principal. The person behind it all. Who paid hundreds of thousands of dollars, to make Danielle Hammond his.

It scratched his professional honor that he couldn't tell. Sure, Stuart Hammond pissed off many powerful players, many of whom would go great length to take it out on his only daughter and designated successor. But none of them would use WRU as a middle man.

And Dany's own surroundings? She certainly came after her Dad, in both business sense and annoying attitude, but Frankie usually managed to keep up with a list of her enemies.

Nobody matched.

Frankie sighed, before he knocked at her door and entered right away.

"You're late," she said, not bothering to turn around from where she stood in front of her cabinet, changing from her elegant business suit into a white summer dress. Frankie was a pragmatic man, but he suspected there was some sort of poetry in that choice on a day like today. "Just in time to zip me up, though."

He stepped in behind her and carefully brushed her blond hair aside, before he reached down for the zipper.

She was gorgeous. Sun tanned, soft skin. The freckles over her shoulders. The fit body, with just the perfect mixture of curves and muscle. His hand rested on her ass just some moments, mapping her shape to keep her in his memories.

All of this would belong to someone else, soon.

"Frankie." She raised a brow at him through the mirror. "We're past this, remember? Focus."

His other hand searched for her hip, too, and he pulled her back against him. She didn't fight it. Fuck. She felt too good, her body pressed to his, just like the many times before. "Come on," he whispered into her hair. "One last time?"

Dany turned her head, and it made him shiver how close she was, how her soft breath caressed his skin. "You don't call the shots, babe," she whispered back, her hand on his cheek. "I do." She twisted her hip out of his grip. "Not today."

He wondered, how it would feel to just take her, right here, in her office. What would happen, if he just grabbed her, hand in that blond locks, tossed her over her own desk and fucked her. She was feisty, but he was stronger than her. Paid to be. He could easily overwhelm her. He'd thought about this, more than once. Never done it. Always let her call the shots. Always let her be in power. What a meek little power that was, though. All deduced, from family, from wealth.

And someone out there was about to do what Frankie couldn't. Strip that off her. That power. That name. That arrogance. All of it. And make her into a submissive little fucktoy.

Oh, he fucking hated them for getting what he longed for.

"Focus," Dany said sharply.

He took a deep breath and nodded. And he did focus. On the smell of her shampoo, on the way her hair tingled over his skin, on the curve of her ass under the zipper.

Focus.

Frankie would become a rich man today. Rich, satisfied, free. He'd just have to make it through this.

"Sorry, babe," he mumbled.

He wasn't.

~

"Why did you say that?" Dany asked, when they were going down in the elevator, looking at him through the huge mirror. "A last time? You usually don't give up that easily."

Frankie had to hide a flinch. "I... Did I really say that?"

She stared at him from honey eyes, eyebrow raised. Expectant. "Yeah."

He hated her. For being gorgeous, for that white dress, for being in charge, for looking right through him. Fifteen minutes. He just needed this to not blow up in his face for fifteen more minutes. Just needed her to trust him for fifteen more minutes. "I... I think we should end this," he said. Improvised. It felt hollow. It sounded real. "It's... It's sort of getting nowhere, right? And I... I think I deserve better."

She paused for a moment, searched his face, before she shrugged. "Okay. Yeah. I guess." She smirked. "It's really been a bit of a cliche, anyway."

The doors slid open towards the lobby, but he couldn't move.

"That's it?" Frankie asked in disbelief. "That's how simple you think this is?"

"Wasn't it always? Come on, Frankie. We fucked. It was fun, it was good, and not gonna lie-" She winked at him. "I did like spanking you. But I mean. It's just sex, right? When it's over, it's over. No hard feelings." She held out an arm to keep the elevator door open for them. "Now. Are we leaving or do you want Peter to cover your shift?"

He really considered it. For a second or two, Frankie imagined going home, having a beer, calling his parents, telling them he'd come back to work in their repair shop. Imagined a life without Dany Hammond.

No.

He'd close this chapter of his life in a much more rewarding way.

"I'm good." He gave her a sharp nod. "Yeah. No hard feelings."

He pushed past her into the lobby, took the room in with a sweeping glance. For a short moment, someone locked eyes with him.

Alex Nadler. That short, awkward WRU client satisfaction manager, dressed just like a businessperson passing by. They weren't awkward now. Their gaze felt like steel.

Frankie shivered.

Move, their lips formed as they tilted their head towards the street.

Focus, Frankie thought.

Focus.

He guided her to the door, just some steps after Alex.

By his side Dany, utterly unfazed by their past conversation, had pulled a stack of index cards from her white purse and skimmed through them, mumbling to herself. She was invited to give a speech at some charity's summer event, just two blocks south.

She wasn't scheduled to arrive.

He walked half a step behind her shoulder, as always, shielded her from behind and towards the street. And as always, his gaze constantly flicked from the surroundings to her. Her long legs, short white dress, perfectly curved ass, blond strands dancing in the wind. People made space for her on instinct, looked at her, jealous, admiring, greedy. And herself - she didn't even notice, deep into her notes, trusting the man behind her to keep her safe.

The man she'd let into her bed, but nowhere else. The man who'd been good enough to guard her, but not to be more than an affair out of dozens. The man she'd led him on, made feel special, and then proved over and over that to her, he was anything but.

A van closed in from behind them. In front, Alex slowed their steps to down to fall back to Dany's side.

Everything was in place.

Dany had no idea.

Frankie smiled grimly.

For someone as savvy as she was, she was pathetically naive.

Then, Alex raised their hand.

~

It happened in seconds. The van slowed by the curb, its door sliding open. Masks. Machine guns.

Dany's index cards silently drifting to the sidewalk. Her white dress still dancing around her thighs, while she stood frozen in shock.

Her first move was for him. A hand, reaching back, to where she knew her protector would be.

Frankie grabbed her waist, a move so familiar he could almost laugh. "I've got you, babe" he mumbled. He could swear that he felt her relax the tiniest bit.

Then he hefted her into the van, right between the armed men.

He jumped in, Alex followed, and the van accelerated, sped off, before Dany had even said a word.

She didn't, still, even when one of the captors took her purse and passed it on to toss it out. Even when another pulled back her wrists and fixed them with zip ties. Even when they forced her to her knees and bound her ankles as well.

Even with a stranger's hand in her hair, a gun to her head, she stayed silent, attentive, aware. Her gaze was on Frankie alone.

And oh. He could drown in those eyes.

When someone touched his wrist, disturbed the image, he angrily flinched. "Sit," a masked man next to him said. "It's getting bumpy."

"I'm -" Frankie grabbed for a hold on the side, just before the van sped around a corner.

"An asshole," Dany said flatly. "I should've known."

Somebody chuckled. But apart from that, nobody spoke.

She didn't say anything more either. Smart girl, he thought. Just as him and the security guys had talked through with her dozens of times. Don't give them anything. Stay calm. Stay alert. Don't fight. Could even have helped, had this been what she probably assumed it to be.

A kidnapping for ransom, for information, for leverage. A kidnapping that matched her worldview. Matched her self image of being the centre of the world.

He idly wondered, what they'd do with that cute white dress. Trash it, probably. Too bad. He'd have liked to fuck her in it.

The van hit a speedbump, another one, and Dany let out a short gasp when the man behind her yanked at her hair trying to keep his footing. The outside noises changed, grew dull, and the van drove into a long, spiraled curve. Parking garage, Frankie thought.

The door slid open, and without spoken commands, their captors emerged into the dark, boots echoing on concrete.

They were alone.

Frankie and Dany, his charge, his lover, his boss. He'd have given his life for her, a long time. Now, he'd sold hers.

She tried to push herself off the ground, get onto her knees again. Under the dim inside light of the van, her dress seemed to emit light. He saw her eyes skim over the inside of the car, the door, back at him, assessing the situation. It was hopeless.

She knew.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why, Frankie?"

"Money," Frankie said with a shrug and crouched down in front of her. "A new life. Seeing you on your knees. Actually, mostly the latter." He reached out and gently traced her cheek. She did flinch now. Cute. "Because you're a bitch, Dany." He grabbed her chin harder. "Because I get paid to see you destroyed."

She stared at him. He wondered if her lip was trembling, or if it was just the light. "It... You know it doesn't make sense, right?" she said.

Frankie pulled back from the kiss he'd just wanted to press on her lips, irritated. "What?"

"That story. You're a loose end. No mobster in their right mind would just let you walk. You betrayed me, you sold me out to be destroyed, but they'll kill you first." She let out a low chuckle. "Oh Frankie. You've always been a fucking idiot."

Fucking bitch tried to belittle him, even at her lowest.

"Oh no, babe." He shook his head. "You have no idea. They're not the mob. They're something else. They just planned to make it look like-"

Dany raised an eyebrow.

Fuck.

Something cold pressed into the back of his neck.

Frankie froze.

"She's right," Alex said behind him, their voice even. "We're professionals. At WRU, we don't leave loose ends."

Dany's gorgeous, brown eyes widened with sudden understanding, her mask of smug confidence finally shattered. "No," she breathed. "No, no, not WRU, not that, not -"

Dany Hammond looked lovely, he thought, when she fell apart.

He held on to that image, as he took his last breath.

---

[Next]

- --

Angel tag list (ask to be added or removed): @whumplr-reader @there-will-always-be-blood @whimpers-and-whumpers @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @risk606

[tinydefector]

6 hours

It seems like fate to have met you. I know so little about you but you have made such an impact on my morning, I sit here jittery for a meeting with legal teams over my mother's death. You sit in the ruins of a tent not knowing what the night will bring. 

For me 20 dollars is spare change but to you it could be life saving. A change of fate that I found you live on tik tok, It feels like we spoke for hours, you have the sweetest smile, and I'm sure you children adore it. I can see how tired you are and how I wish I could hug you. In just a few hours you have already become a fixture in my life and my only hope is that I get to hear your voice tomorrow to know you're still safe. 

He is from Gaza 

He is a father 

He has the sweetest laugh and smile 

20 dollars could save his family. 

He has the most beautiful son who deserves the world

He is 30 years old

He believes his English is rough, but I have learnt enough Arabic from videos to understand him. 

He is frightened 

He has a back injury due to having to carry water so far constantly.

He tears up over someone asking his name. 

We both have names that start with J

His name is Jawaad 

To me he is now a brother, and I can only pray that in 12 hours when it is 6:46am for me that it is 12:46am for him. 

I have never been more thankful for a sleepless night.

6 Hours from one J to another.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - March 24 - Week 12

Happy Sunday, my friends! Check out this week’s five recs, and be sure to kudos and comment on the ones you enjoy! 

non functional requirements by lazywriter7

“Morning Tony.” Someone greets from close to the front row. Gwen, who’s waiting for her Macbook to complete its primeval, laborious booting up procedure, feels her shoulders sag even further down. God, not this shit again.

“Did your coffee machine explode again?”

“Implode, and no.” The lecturer – Tony – cracks a brief smile. The band t-shirt he’s got on is mostly just wrinkles, his hair flattened straight down the sides like it hasn’t been washed in a couple days. Really gives Gwen such an inspiring picture to look up to for her own prospective career in academia. “And just for that not-so-subtle commentary on my opening salvo today, I’m gonna teach this entire lecture using a metaphor.”

~

Gwen Stacy isn't having the greatest day, and that's before her System Designs Engineering professor starts explaining the material through the lens of his strained-sounding relationship. With his boyfriend in the audience.

arei’s thoughts: I really loved this. It’s outsider POV, and Steve is the ‘bad’ boyfriend in this, but they���re both trying--sometimes failing--to make things work. The way they lean into each other and learn from their mistakes is lovely. 

An Educational Experience (The Good Things Come To Those Who Wait Remix) by valdomarx 

Ults Tony has a nice day.

aka Tony talks Steve through sucking his cock.

arei’s thoughts: it’s no secret that I adore Ults and this one is so lovely, Steve is so grumpy and pining so damn bad if he’d get out of his own way, he could be SO HAPPY. And then it’s just hot. Check it out. 

take a long line by ShanaStoryteller

Steve knows that Tony Stark is going to be a problem from the first line in his file.

Designation: Alpha

arei’s thoughts: I love the a/b/o dynamics in this. The way that Steve kind of fumbled them on account of his coming from a different time, and the way Tony was so anxious to care for EVERYONE around him. The scene where he tries to feed Steve a sandwich is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve read in months. 

Even the Score by Sineala 

After Tony risks his own life to save Steve from the deadly Bloodwash gas, he's in bad shape, and he needs immediate treatment. Thanks to the treatment, he doesn't quite remember what's going on, but he does remember that people have been trying to kill him and that he can't trust the government. Since the Secretary of Defense did try to murder both of them today, Steve can't exactly tell Tony he's wrong about either of those things -- but, unfortunately, Tony doesn't remember who Steve is. And, even more unfortunately, Steve taught Tony to fight.

arei’s thoughts: I love this fic. It’s a very simple plot and premise pulled from the comics but it’s just so well done, and I love seeing Tony competent and dangerous even without the suit. Sine’s characterization in this--on both Steve and Tony’s parts--is just so lovely and well done. 

pretty baited trap by Areiton

The first time Tony walks into the Trisk, he’s following Tiberius, his eyes downcast, a perfect five steps behind his Alpha. He’s wearing a suit, cut in traditional omega style, because he’s an asset, a part of the display of wealth and power as much as the car they arrived in and the expensive watch Ty is wearing, the deliberate slight of being late and the bottle of wine that hangs from three fingers, careless, like it’s not worth several thousand dollars.

It’s the same display Ty has put on a dozen and more times since they Bonded. The only thing that changes is the location, the Alpha that Ty is trying to impress.

Where Tony ends up. His role in the evening’s proceedings. Those are already determined. This is a business deal and he is the pretty baited trap.

arei’s thoughts: well, I wrote this one but. I’m adding it to the list because I kinda love it. It’s very soft, and a little dark, but the devotion that grows between Steve and Tony is…lovely. 

[moronic-validity]

sooo you have winterkov headcanons…i’d love to hear theyve been eating my brain like maggots the past few days. spare some please 👂

I can't lie to you my guy, I just woke up, saw Winterkov and Maggots in the same ask and I was just like

☹️

BUT SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY AND I DID JUST WAKE UP, LETS HAVE SOME HEADCANONS, SHALL WE? 3 sfw and 3 nsfw that'll be below the cut.

1) Simon sleeps under 6-12 blankets with only one pillow.

Winter sleeps on 20+ pillows but with only one blanket.

It just makes sense.

2) Simon texts his friends from his home reality A LOT. Like even more often than he texts Fionna. He's still figuring out emoticons, but he's got this!!!

3) Winter has dozens of suits tailored for Simon and all of them match his own.

That being said, Simon usually just wears his old shirt and pants, but with one of Winter's vests on top.

And one more bc I just thought of it

4) Winter and Simon have had pretty different life experiences that have changed their outlooks on plenty of things. It's just part of the alternate universe thing.

One of those differences I talked about in Winter's Tango is that Winter took ballroom dance classes in college and that Simon went to one and quit.

I like to think that Simon was much more academics only than Winter was. That being said, they both made it to their doctorate.

18+ under the cut

1) Simon was incredibly repressed as a child, and so he didn't lose his virginity until the end of undergrad, and it was to a boy his friends set him up with.

After that, he got REALLY experimental REALLY fast (that being said, his only really long-term relationship has been with Betty).

2) Okay so we all know Winter is a fair bit taller and broader than Simon, that's in the show.

We know it, we love it.

I also like to believe he's bigger...downstairs ;).

I'm talking about his cock.

Okay so Simon's a little above average, 6-7 inches, not too fuckin shabby if I do say so.

Winter, though, has a whole 9. That's 3 inches off a 5 dollar footlong (his stripper name).

And if you're thinking those 2 inches aren't a whole lot, stick out your thumb for me. The length from the tip of your thumb to the base is roughly 2 inches.

3) With Betty, Simon was a bottom leaning switch. With Winter, he's a top leaning switch.

The duality of man.

And yes, Winter is a pillow princess, but he'll also do whatever he can to make Simon happy, so if that means he has to top, he'll do it in a heartbeat.