#and whitney refusing to leave them alone

[gifti3]

whitney would do well in a yaoi

he has awful seme energy

[istoleyoursphenoidbone]

Danny in the Bathroom

DPxDC

I wanted to try and get back into writing (havent in like a good 5 years), so this might be horrible. But inspired by the song "Michael in the Bathroom" from Be More Chill.

The music and chatter from the party outside pulsed through the door like a heartbeat, distant and muffled. Danny Fenton leaned against the bathroom sink, his hands gripping the cold porcelain edge. His reflection in the mirror stared back, pale and tired, framed by messy black hair and the faint glow of his ghostly aura that refused to fade completely. He couldn’t blame it; even his human half wanted to disappear. He turned the faucet on, letting the water run for no reason other than to give himself a task. It masked the noise outside, made him feel just a little more alone—but not in a bad way. Not in the way the rest of the party had.

He had come here with Jason. Jason Todd, the guy who somehow managed to make him feel grounded in a way no one else ever had. They weren't even officially together, but they'd found some weird balance of trust and shared darkness that felt enough. Or, at least, it used to. Danny had thought this would be one of those rare nights when things felt normal. A party, some laughs, maybe a moment where it was just the two of them sitting outside, away from the noise, watching the stars like they always did. Instead, Jason had vanished into the crowd of people who seemed to orbit around him effortlessly.

"I should’ve stayed home," Danny muttered, running a wet hand through his hair. "Could’ve binge-watched something dumb. Or, you know, not gotten up at all." The faucet dripped. A drunk voice outside slurred through a Whitney Houston song, loud and off-key, and it almost made him laugh. Almost. Instead, it made his chest ache. He used to joke about stuff like that with Tucker and Sam. Now it was just him, Danny—in the bathroom, his phone clutched in one hand as he tried to summon the courage to text Jason.

"Hey, you okay?” he typed, then deleted. “You ditched me. Cool, I’ll just head out.” That went, too. He leaned back against the sink, closing his eyes, letting himself feel the weight of the night press down. The memories of Jason’s grin earlier, the way his voice had sounded when he said, "This'll be fun, trust me," felt like salt in the wound now. Danny had trusted him. He wanted to believe Jason hadn’t forgotten about him, but the silence in his messages was louder than the music outside.

The door suddenly creaked open a crack, and Danny tensed. "Occupied," he called out, his voice sharper than he intended. But instead of retreating, Jason’s head peeked through the gap. His hair was messy, cheeks slightly flushed—not from alcohol, Danny knew, but from whatever chaos he'd just left behind.

"Hey," Jason said, a little breathless. His blue eyes darted over Danny, taking in the slouched posture, the furrowed brows. "I've been looking for you." Danny crossed his arms. "Yeah? You looked really hard." Jason winced, stepping fully inside and shutting the door behind him. "I got... caught up. I didn't mean to leave you hanging." Danny looked away, focusing on the faucet again. "Sure. It’s fine. I’m fine."

Jason stepped closer, the tension in the small room rising. "You're not," he said softly. "And that’s on me. I’m sorry." Danny sighed, finally meeting his gaze. Jason looked earnest, and Danny hated how much he wanted to forgive him just for that.

“I’m not mad," Danny admitted. "I just... don’t do this kind of thing. I’m not you. I don’t know how to be in a room full of people and not feel like I’m invisible—or worse, like I’m not supposed to be there." Jason frowned, then moved to sit on the closed toilet lid. "You think I don’t feel that way? Half the time I’m in a crowd, I feel like a ghost.”

The irony wasn’t lost on either of them, and for the first time that night, Danny let himself smile—just barely. “I’m serious,” Jason continued. “I don’t know how to do this stuff either. But you? You being here? That’s the only thing that made me want to show up in the first place.” Danny blinked, caught off guard. He let the words hang between them for a moment before he pushed off the sink, sitting down on the tiled floor across from Jason. “So,” Danny said, “you’re saying we’re both disasters?” Jason grinned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Exactly. But at least we’re disasters together.” And suddenly, the noise of the party outside didn’t seem so loud anymore.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Mockingbird part 13: 50's party

The party at 50’s house was in full swing. People were dancing, singing, laughing. All dressed in 80s clothes. Eminem was chilling at the bar, drinking nothing but coke, with his arms around Rihanna. 

“What are you supposed to be?” 50 asked Marshall.

“I’m slim shady” is all he says, but he’s just dressed in his regular clothes. 

Rihanna, however, is dressed as Whitney Houston, dressed in a white tank top and denim jeans, the cover from her “I wanna dance with somebody” album. Suddenly, 50’s smile vanished once they moved to the door. You just stepped in, hand in hand with your new boyfriend. You were dressed as Jennifer and Marty Mcfly from Back to the future.

They headed over to the bar, to greet 50 and wished him happy birthday, Rihanna however couldn’t help but to laugh and it made her drink fall out of her mouth. 

“What?” was all you said, while she was laughing, hiding her smile at Em’s shoulder. “Told you it was true.” he said and started to laugh. You narrowed your eyes to Coulson, who had a big frown at his face. 

“I refused to believe that they were a thing.” she said and now you had it.

“We’re leaving.” you said, handed 50 his gift and grabbed Coulson’s hand, dragging him out of there. That made Rihanna stop, maybe she felt guilty. Eminem stopped laughing to and chased after you. 

“Y/N come on” He says, still chasing you. 

“You’re acting like some kind of teenager. You’re telling me I can’t date someone because of a feud over 6 years ago?”

He looks frustrated, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to make you this upset. 

You glance back, your frustration still burning, but something in his tone makes you pause. He looks over at MGK, who’s watching the scene unfold, arms crossed but calm.

Eminem clears his throat, then says,

“Look, man… Can we just forget all the crap? Maybe grab a drink, play a game at the billiards? No drama. Just… a truce.”

MGK raises an eyebrow, considering for a moment. Then nods slowly,

“Alright. But only for y/n.”

You let out a shaky breath and turn back to Eminem, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Thanks” you say as you let the two boys head over to the bar…

the two of them walk side by side toward the bar, the tension between them easing just a little. MGK nudges Eminem playfully.

“What’ll you have?” MGK asks, sliding onto a barstool.

“A Coke. Still sober,” Eminem replies with a smirk, tapping the counter.

MGK chuckles, signals the bartender.

“Make that a beer for me then. I need one after today.”

Eminem watches as the beer gets poured, then takes a slow sip of his Coke, eyes flicking toward you across the room, you were talking to Kim Kardashian. The bartender gives them the drinks, and they sip in silence, says nothing to each other.  

MGK leans against the bar, trying to keep it casual.

“Y/N’s a great girl. Guess that’s the only thing we really have in common.”

Eminem snaps, eyes narrowing, voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t talk about her. I know what you’re doing.”

MGK blinks, confused. “What?”

Eminem steps closer, voice icy.

“You’re only dating her to get back at me. But let me promise you something—if you break her heart, I won’t just destroy your career... I’ll destroy you.”

MGK lets out a short, humorless laugh, straightening up from the bar.

“Back at you?” he repeats, smirking. “Man, you really think everything’s about you.”

Eminem doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just stares.

MGK’s smirk grows colder.

“Truth is… it kinda is.”

He leans in just slightly, voice low and cruel.

“How does it feel, knowing I have her now? Touching her like you used to do”

The sentence cuts deep. Eminem’s jaw tightens, breath sharp through his nose.

“You think this is a win? Using her like that?” he growls.

MGK shrugs like it’s nothing.

“I didn’t have to try hard. She’s very easy when she’s heartbroken, didn't she date you directly after that Jason dude, like right after? Guess her pussy can’t be alone for a minute.” 

Right then, his fist connects with MGK’s jaw with a sickening crack. The sound cuts through the music, and a few heads turn. 

MGK stumbles back into the bar, holding his face, eyes wide.

MGK stumbles back, knocking into the barstool, grabbing his face as gasps ripple through the crowd.

“Yo! What the hell?” someone shouts.

You push through the stunned circle of onlookers, eyes darting between the two men.

“Marshall?! Are you serious right now?!”

MGK looks up at you, wounded expression in place, voice low and shaky.

“I didn’t do anything… he just lost it.”

Eminem wipes his knuckles on his jeans, breathing heavy.

“He’s playing you. He’s only with you to get back at me for ruining his career! Which wasn’t hard by the way you piece of…” 

You cut him off, voice sharp and shaking with embarrassment.

“Are you seriously doing this, In front of everyone?! What is wrong with you?”

He steps forward, trying to explain, but you back away, grabbing MGK’s hand. People are whispering. Filming.

You don’t care.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” you snap.

As the two of you move toward the door, you turn back one last time, anger boiling over.

“You’re a dick, Marshall!”

Then the door slams behind you, leaving silence in your wake—except for the low murmurs of everyone watching Eminem, who stands frozen in the middle of it all.

__

The car is quiet at first, only the hum of the engine and the distant beat of bass still ringing in your ears. Your hands tremble slightly in your lap, and your eyes are red, mascara beginning to smudge.

MGK glances at you from the driver’s seat, rubbing his jaw where the bruise is already forming.

“He’s completely unhinged,” he mutters, as if trying to make sense of it himself. “Came up to me talking about how I’m ‘using you,’ how I’m fake. Then he started throwing punches. And you know what? he was ordering a beer”

You blink slowly, barely able to process it all. “He told me… he doesn’t drink anymore.” Your voice cracks.

MGK pauses for just a beat too long, then answers carefully.

“I was ordering a coke and he was ordering a beer, i told him not to, that's when he said 'I'm just using you'"

You turn away, eyes filling with tears again. “Why would he lie to me... do you think it is because i broke up with him?” you say with a glimpse of hope in your eyes.

MGK hides a smirk for a second, then leans over just slightly, placing a hand on your knee.

“I don't think so, I think he never stopped, I think he was lying to you this whole time. He got back to drinking like it was nothing, isn't it hard to begin again after quitting?”

You wipe your face with the sleeve of your jacket, trying to breathe through the ache in your chest.

“He hurt you, and he lied to you,” MGK continues gently, voice low and comforting.. 

“You don’t need that kind of chaos in your life.”

You nod slowly, swallowing your heartbreak, not noticing the satisfaction in his eyes as he shifts gears and keeps driving.

The ride is quiet again after your tears subside, just the steady rhythm of the road beneath the tires.

As the car slows at a red light, MGK reaches over, brushing his fingers along your thigh, then trails his hand up, cupping your chest through your jacket with a quiet grin.

You tense. His touch feels wrong, invasive—even if you’ve let it happen before. Tonight isn’t the night.

You gently pull his hand away.

“I’m not in the mood,” you say, your voice low but firm.

He pauses, his jaw clenching just slightly before he forces a smile.

“Yeah. Of course. My bad.”

But the silence that follows feels heavier.

He doesn’t touch you again, but his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He nods, like he’s trying to play it cool, but you catch the flicker of irritation in his eyes.

“Just… wanted to make you feel better,” he adds quietly, not looking at you.

“I just can’t believe he lied to me"

Masterlist

[holystates]

marrow's  own  CAMILLE  KING,  age  21,  passed  away  on  JANUARY  21ST.  loved  ones  report  that  they  were  extremely  PASSIONATE  and  express  discontent  with  rumors  that  describe  them  as  INSECURE.  according  to  town  gossip,  their  death  was  due  to  HITTING  HER  HEAD  AGAINST  A  BATHTUB  AND  BLEEDING  TO  DEATH —  which  is  strange,  because  i  could  have  sworn  that  i  saw  them  at  MARROW  PUBLIC  LIBRARY   last  night.

♱　　OVERVIEW.

full  name.　camille  angeline  king　　/　　aliases.　cami　　/　　birthdate.　december 23rd  (  21  )　　/　　hometown.　marrow,  maine　　/　　gender  +  pronouns.　cis woman  +  she/her　　/　　orientation.　closeted  lesbian　　/　　zodiac.　capricorn　　/　　occupation.　currently  unemployed　　/　　face  claim.　whitney peak

♱　　HEADCANONS.

camille  was  born  just  a  few  hours  shy  of  christmas  eve,  much  to  the  delight  of  her  heavily  devout  parents.  beliefs  were  hammered  into  her  like  nails  into  wood,  and  it  made  her  believe  that  one  wrong  move  meant  flames  licking  your  skin  in  the  afterlife  for  all  of  eternity.

she  spends  her  teenage  years  alone.  tells  herself  it's  fine,  who  needs  friends  when  you  have  books  to  keep  you  company?  but  her  heart  aches  and  threatens  to  burst  out  of  her  ribcage  when  she  hears  laughter  on  the  street.

literature  is  her  one  true  love.  classics  are  her  favorite,  and  she  can  be  a  little  pretentious  about  her  taste.  camille  considered  becoming  a  writer  once,  but  she  doesn't  think  she  has  the  skill  or  talent  to  be  a  good  one  (  she  does  —  she  just  refuses  to  believe  it.  )

deeply  jealous  and  insecure  about  everyone  and  everything.  she  feels  like  everyone  is  ahead  of  her  in  so  many  ways  and  that  she's  stuck  observing  instead  of  experiencing.  she  wants  so  badly  to  leave  marrow  but  knows  it's  next  to  impossible,  so  she  bears  resentment  to  those  who  can  leave  but  choose  to  stay.

camille  died  on  january  21st,  the  feast  day  of  st.  agnes,  patron  saint  of  young  girls  and  chastity.  her  death  was  an  accident,  the  floor  was  wet  and  she  wasn't  careful  enough.  she  spent  two  hours  in  that  bathroom  before  her  parents  found  her.  she  died  vulnerable  —  naked  and  alone.

since  then,  camille  has  been  suffering  from  unexplained  headaches  that  not  even  painkillers  can  relieve.  they  don't  occur  often,  but  when  they  do,  they're  excruciating.  all  she  can  do  when  she  has  it  is  lie  in  bed  and  bear  it.

[runa-falls]

Congrats on your milestone, em!!! 🥳💖

If you feel so inspired, I'd like to request a blurb using the following prompt:

“this isn’t what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you.” + Poe Dameron 👀

Thank youuuu 💕

hihi whitney :3 thanks for joining in! this one is a bit longer than a blurb but i can't help it!

cw: smut (18+), friends (with minimal benefits)-to-lovers, jealous!poe, angst, alcohol, fluff?, fingering, hickies, panty sniffing (IDK WHERE TF THIS STUFF I COMING FROM ??), kissing, anddd not proof read

wc: 2.3k (???)

a/n: honestly poe is kinda an asshole in some of this but imma connect it to his commitment issue bc he's afraid to lose the reader idk

--

poe has never given you a straight answer about the two of you, and for a while it didn't matter.

for a bulk of your friendship, there's been the ongoing war between the first order and the resistance, so there was never time to sit down and talk about it, or take it any further than what it was.

and what is was, was a pair of kissing friends.

it's confusing. the words "kissing" and "friends" don't usually go together. either it's a 'mistake' or a gateway to a different kind of relationship, but you've been stuck in this middle area for months.

the war is over now and you won, but you haven't moved an inch.

this confusion, this fuzzy line between friends and lovers, has been weighing on you.

poe gives you those eyes, that intense stare, the one that makes you feel like the only girl in the universe, but then he openly flirts with officers, fellow pilots, and mechanics that work on his ship, buying them a drink and sitting real close to them, right in front of you.

poe kisses you, tastes you, like you're the finest wine in coruscant, like he's trying to memorize your flavor because each kiss could be his last, but then he tells you he's not ready for a relationship, he's too busy, he doesn't want to ruin the friendship that you have.

now, you're done waiting for him. you've tried to be patient and understanding, to give him time to figure things out, but he's been drawing it out, painfully, and you refuse to just sit there and watch.

you decided to finally take up voren na'al's offer of a date. he's a cute guy and you've worked with him throughout the war. you figure you might as well give him a chance, if only to take your mind off of poe.

you slip on a simple dress, something that makes you feel 10x cuter than the usual resistance uniform that the base usually sees you in. you're not going anywhere fancy, just the local pub to grab a drink and hang out.

--

it's quite crowded when you get there, though everywhere's been pretty crowded since the war ended. now there's more time for leisure, to enjoy life, without worrying about another attack.

the bar is full of bustling bodies, loud conversations, and moving glasses of jet juice, tihaar, and vosh. you're barely able to squeeze into a small table with how many standing bodies surround you.

"you look really nice tonight!" voren basically has to yell for you to hear him.

"thanks, a bit of an upgrade from my usual--"

"what?!"

"i said, a bit of an--"

voren gets up and decides to just stand next to you while you sit on the barstool instead. "sorry, i didn't realize this place would be so packed tonight..." he's close, almost leaning into you as he speaks at a normal volume.

"no, no, it's fine! I'm happy to see that the whole resistance is enjoying their weekend."

"let me get you a drink, yeah?"

"alright, i'll take...nikta with some soda."

"gotcha." he leaves you and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

you've finally decided that it's too lively in this bar for you. the overlapping voices and cheers overwhelm your brain as you desperately try to get comfortable as a party of one in a sea of thousands.

how can you feel so alone in a room full of people?

this is a bit harder than you thought it would be. for some reason it just feels wrong to be on this date, despite not having any exclusivity with poe in the first place.

"gods, i thought that guy would never leave!"

speak of the devil.

"poe."

he steps closer to you, smoothly walking through the crowd that's nearly trapping you at your table. his face is pink, flushed from alcohol and the heat of the bar, and his eyes are glazed with untethered delight.

he says your name, draws it out with the slur of his tongue. his eyes glance at your attire, a dress he's never seen before. actually, he's never seen you in a dress, ever. "so you have a little boyfriend now?"

where did he even come from?

usually you'd know if he were at the bar, he has a whole entourage of people that like to follow him around. in fact, you'd know if he were in any room because of the loud cheers that constantly accompany the resistance's favorite flyboy.

"this is our first date actually." you hope you sound casual, despite having to raise your voice to be heard over the noise. you try to bite your tongue before you could ask, but you can't. you need to know. maybe it'll make this easier for you. "...are you here with someone?"

"i was, but i ditched them." you heart lurches and warmth quickly pools in your stomach. it's pathetic how easily he can make you feel special, but the doesn't linger on that thought for long. "does your boyfriend know you kiss your friends?"

you sit back at his words, shocked that he's deciding to bring this up now. "ok, where is this coming from?"

"i just feel like i would want to know if my girlfriend was seeing other people." you frown, genuinely confused.

"well, i'm not."

"you...aren't?"

"poe, what--"

"you're telling me that this," he points between the two of you, "meant nothing?"

"why are you bringing this up?"

"because a second ago, i thought we had an understanding but then i see you in this short dress going on a date with some logistic's dweeb!"

you roll your eyes, "his name is voren and unlike you, he's not making me decipher any understandings. he asked me on a date and i agreed."

"and you still kiss me."

"i kissed you and then i got tired of waiting for you to kiss back."

"i just don't get how you move on so easily when what we hasn't even ended."

"oh, fuck you, poe. it never even started!"

"hey...is this a bad time..." voren is back with the drinks, staring at the two of you awkwardly as the glasses of iced alcohol begin to sweat in his hands.

you both speak at the same time:

"no, voren, you're fine."

"yeah, if you wouldn't mind, we're dealing with something right now."

he nods his head slowly, understanding what's happening. he sets the drinks down on the table. "look, i'll see you back at the base, just text me when you want to meet up again." he walks to the exit of the bar and you try to call for him, but it's no use with the wall of people between you.

"look what you did, you ruined my date!"

"wasn't much of a date from the looks of things."

"ugh, you asshole!" you hop off your seat, grab your stuff, and rush through the crowd. maybe you can catch up to him if you get out fast enough. swaying bodies threaten pull you back into the tide as you attempt to escape, but you push through, determined to get the fuck out of there.

the cool air is refreshing when you finally shove the door open, it's almost a bit chilly compared to the building you came out of. you scan the area, trying to get a glimpse voren walking home but you don't see a single person.

"come back, honey, you shouldn't be out here alone."

you don't even have to look back to know who it is.

"i'd rather be alone than with you."

"you don't mean that." a hand gently pulls at your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. a warm hand cups your jaw as he regards your upset expression, his thumb comfortingly gliding over your cheek. you can't help but lean into his familiar touch. "this is why i never wanted to change what we had. i was trying to be smart, for both our sakes."

"by pushing me away? by leading me on?" your voice comes out in a whisper, but it's so quiet in these empty streets that it didn't matter.

"by keeping it simple, safe."

"i can't do it anymore, poe. you can't just expect me to be content with what you give. i need more."

"i know, baby, i was just scared. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and i didn't want to lose you."

"but the war is over."

"not for me. i'll always be a fighter and i'll always have my battles. sometimes i can't be there for you like i should be, i can't be the boyfriend you deserve, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it any less." he rests his forehead on yours, holding you close to him in the middle of the sidewalk. "i didn't want you to leave me so i decided to never give you the chance."

"and now?"

"now, i don't want to think about what could happen tomorrow or the day after that. i've wanted you since forever and i want you now." he leans in, his nose nudging yours, "do you?"

"you know i do." you giggle softly, a grin spreading on your face.

you tilt your face up and capture his lips, slowly moving against him, savoring this moment. he places a hand at the back of your neck and pulls you in closer, showing you all his love as his soft lips mold over yours.

---

the walk back to base was a blur of soft smiles and quiet words as you traveled hand-in-hand. poe offered you his jacket after seeing you shiver and you reveled in the feeling of the heavy leather over your shoulders. you're both so giddy like a couple of teens that have been crushing on each other for eons.

when you got to the entrance of the main building you both paused for a second and an unspoken question hung in the air. is this the end of the night?

"come over to mine."

you surprise yourself with your bold offer. it was blurted out before you could really think it through.

"is that really a good idea?"

isn't it?

you've been placed at an arm's length from the man you've wanted since you showed up at the base and you've gotten his affection, his touch, and his kiss, but never more. and you want more.

"i want you. i-i mean, i want you to come over..."

he smirks like the asshole he is.

"alright, lead the way."

---

heated kisses are planted down from your jaw and all along your neck. splotches of purple already litter the silky skin, but he's still hungry for more.

poe barely got into the room before you rushed over to him and practically attacked him with a kiss. luckily his pilot reflexes helped him catch you and pull you against his body with finesse.

he laid you out on your bed and crawled over you, wanting to taste every part of you that he been denying himself from. his hands smooth over your curves, groping your tits and your waist as he makes his way down.

fingers tug your dress over your thighs and reveal the suggestive underwear you wore for your date.

he raises an eyebrow, "this for me, or him?"

"for myself, actually...but i guess you can enjoy them too." he pinches your thigh teasingly and you yelp out a giggle.

"fucking brat. you know what," he pulls them off easily, "i will enjoy them." poe crumples up your delicate lace in one hand while holding you down with another. you attempt cross your legs as you watch him bring them up to his face and breathe in your scent, but they're forced open by a strong hand. "mm...my sweet little girlfriend is so needy for me, hm?" you can feel him against your leg, hard and prominent under his pants.

you squirm under him, nearly dripping slick all over your sheets at his words. his girlfriend.

poe brings his hand up to your face, slowly tracing your lips with his index finger. "open up, honey." he groans as you let him slip between your lips. you suckle at his finger while staring up at him, your tongue flicking the tip every so often. "that's right...good girl." he adds another finger and watches you with half-lidded eyes, imagining that it's his cock you're sucking, nearly choking around it.

he pulls them out and reached between your bodies. you whimper as the cool slickness is pressed against your pussy. he runs them through the seam of your cunt, prodding gently against your entrance.

his eyes watch your facial expressions shift when he pushes them in, drinking in every minute sound and move that you make. you let out a broken moan as he curls his fingers inside of you and starts moving, rubbing right against your g-spot.

he whispers encouraging words as you start to shake under him, already so close to the edge. "that's it, sweetheart," he speeds up and vulgar sounds of your dripping cunt fill the room, "cum all over my fingers."

you whine as you reach you climax, pussy fluttering around his still moving fingers. your back arches at the intense pleasure and you wrap your legs around his arm.

his movements stop and he pulls away. you hide your face under your arms as he starts to lick his fingers clean, suddenly embarrassed by his shameless actions.

"what?" he chuckles, "am i not allow to taste my girlfriend?"

"you know, this isn't what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you." you breath out, referring to your heated talk at the bar.

"i know baby, you want my cock don't you? we'll get there once you recover."

with a flushed face, you give him an appalled look, "poe!"

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

1937, World's Highest Standard of Living :: Margaret Bourke-White

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 28, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 29, 2024

On Monday, October 28, 1929, New York’s Metropolitan Opera Company opened its forty-fifth season.

Four thousand attendees in their finest clothes strolled to the elegant building on foot or traveled in one of a thousand limousines to see Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, the melodramatic story of an innocent French girl seduced by wealth, whose reluctance to leave her riches for true love leads to her arrest and tragic death. Photographers captured images of the era’s social celebrities as they arrived at opening night, their flash bulbs blinding the crowd that had gathered to see the famous faces and expensive gowns.

No one toasting the beginning of the opera season that night knew they were marking the end of an era.

At ten o’clock the next morning, when the opening gong sounded in the great hall of the New York Stock Exchange, men began to unload their stocks. So fast did trading go that by the end of the day, the ticker recording transactions ran two and a half hours late. When the final tally could be read, it showed that an extraordinary 16,410,030 shares had traded hands, and the market had lost $14 billion. The market had been uneasy for weeks before the twenty-ninth, but Black Tuesday began a slide that seemingly would not end. By mid-November the industrial average was half of what it had been in September. The economic boom that had fueled the Roaring Twenties was over.

Once the bottom fell out of the stock market, the economy ground down. Manufacturing output dropped to levels lower than those of 1913. The production of pig iron fell to what it had been in the 1890s. Foreign trade dropped by $7 billion, down to just $3 billion. The price of wheat fell from $1.05 a bushel to 39 cents; corn dropped from 81 to 33 cents; cotton fell from 17 to 6 cents a pound. Prices dropped so low that selling crops meant taking a loss, so struggling farmers simply let them rot in the fields. 

By 1932, over one million people in New York City were unemployed. By 1933 the number of unemployed across the nation rose to 13 million people—one out of every four American workers. Unable to afford rent or pay mortgages, people lived in shelters made of packing boxes.

No one knew how to combat the Great Depression, but certain wealthy Americans were sure they knew what had caused it. The problem, they said, was that poor Americans refused to work hard enough and were draining the economy. They must be forced to take less. “Liquidate labor, liquidate stocks, liquidate the farmers, liquidate real estate,” Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon told President Herbert Hoover. “It will purge the rottenness out of the system. High costs of living and high living will come down. People will work harder, live a more moral life. Values will be adjusted, and enterprising people will pick up the wrecks from less competent people.” 

Slash government spending, agreed the Chicago Tribune: lay off teachers and government workers, and demand that those who remain accept lower wages. Richard Whitney, a former president of the Stock Exchange, told the Senate that the only way to restart the economy was to cut government salaries and veterans’ benefits (although he told them that his own salary—which at sixty thousand dollars was six times higher than theirs—was “very little” and couldn’t be reduced).

President Hoover knew little about finances, let alone how to fix an economic crisis of global proportions. He tried to reverse the economic slide by cutting taxes and reassuring Americans that “the fundamental business of the country, that is, production and distribution of commodities, is on a sound and prosperous basis.” 

But taxes were already so low that most folks would see only a few extra dollars a year from the cuts, and the fundamental business of the country was not, in fact, sound. When suffering Americans begged for public works programs to provide jobs, Hoover insisted that such programs were a “soak the rich” program that would “enslave” taxpayers, and called instead for private charity.

By the time Hoover’s term ended, Americans were ready to try a new approach to economic recovery. They refused to reelect Hoover and turned instead to New York Governor Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who promised to use the federal government to provide jobs and a safety net to enable Americans to weather hard times. He promised the American people a “New Deal”: a government that would work for everyone, not just for the wealthy and well connected.

As soon as Roosevelt was in office, Democrats began to pass laws protecting workers’ rights, providing government jobs, regulating business and banking, and beginning to chip away at the racial segregation of the American South. New Deal policies employed more than 8.5 million people, built more than 650,000 miles of highways, built or repaired more than 120,000 bridges, and put up more than 125,000 buildings. 

They regulated banking and the stock market and gave workers the right to bargain collectively. They established minimum wages and maximum hours for work. They provided a basic social safety net and regulated food and drug safety. And when World War II broke out, the new system enabled the United States to defend democracy successfully against fascists both at home—where they had grown strong enough to turn out almost 20,000 people to a rally at Madison Square Garden in 1939—and abroad. 

The New Deal worked so well that common men and women across the country hailed FDR as their leader, electing him an unprecedented four times. Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower built on the New Deal when voters elected him in 1952. He bolstered the nation’s infrastructure with the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which provided $25 billion to build 41,000 miles of highway across the country; added the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare to the government and called for a national healthcare system.

Eisenhower nominated former Republican governor of California Earl Warren as chief justice of the Supreme Court to protect civil rights, which he would begin to do with the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision months after joining the court. Eisenhower also insisted on the vital importance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to stop the Soviet Union from spreading communism throughout Europe.

Eisenhower called his vision “a middle way between untrammeled freedom of the individual and the demands of the welfare of the whole Nation.” 

The system worked: between 1945 and 1960 the nation’s gross national product (GNP) jumped by 250%, from $200 billion to $500 billion. The vast majority of Americans of both parties liked the new system that had helped the nation to recover from the Depression and to equip the Allies to win World War II. 

Politicians and commentators agreed that most Democrats and Republicans shared a “liberal consensus” that the government should regulate business, provide for basic social welfare, promote infrastructure, and protect civil rights. It seemed the country had finally created a government that best reflected democratic values. 

Indeed, that liberal consensus seemed so universal that the only place to find opposition was in entertainment. Popular radio comedian Fred Allen’s show included a caricature, Senator Beauregard Claghorn, a southern blowhard who pontificated, harrumphed, and took his reflexive hatred of the North to ridiculous extremes. A buffoon who represented the past, the Claghorn character was such a success that he starred in his own Hollywood film and later became the basis for the Looney Tunes cartoon rooster Foghorn Leghorn.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[mobberswashere]

🌨️ Until dawn sketch + Oc-Whitney “Wynn” Kaplan 🌨️

Lore?!? Yes:-

1st pic) Girls' Call

Out of sheer boredom, Wynn picks up her phone and calls Beth. They start chatting about all sorts of things—Wynn tells Beth about the online forums she’s read on Bigfoot while Beth gets ready for a run. The two debate the existence of creatures like Bigfoot, with Wynn explaining they’re known as cryptids. Though not a full believer in these sorts of creatures, Wynn entertains the idea and leans toward the possibility they could be real. Beth, on the other hand, isn’t buying it. She refuses to believe these so-called "creatures of horror" actually exist.

Their argument escalates, as if they’re in a presidential debate. Wynn pretends to take it seriously, struggling not to laugh, while Beth treats the whole exchange like a sitcom. So preoccupied with their conversation, Beth stops mid-run and decides to call the two people she trusts most besides Wynn: Sam and her older sister, Hannah. Hannah picks up immediately, but it takes a few tries to reach Sam, who’s studying. Beth fills them in on the cryptid debate, and just to spite her, Wynn blurts out, "Bigfoot’s real!"—making Beth laugh tiredly while leaving Sam and Hannah confused. An even longer conversation ensues among the four girls, lasting at least four or five hours.

2nd pic: Wynn’s Arrival

On the night of the prank, before Beth arrives at the cabin, she calls Wynn to ask if she’s coming to the party. Deep down, Beth already knows the answer but hopes Wynn has changed her mind. Unfortunately, Wynn’s response is the same: she can’t go because of her failing grades. Her parents would freak out if she left the house. Beth sighs, saying it sucks she won’t be there. Wynn laughs and tries to lighten the mood, joking romantically, "I’ll always be here, in your heart." Beth snickers and tells her to shut up.

This is the first time only one of them is going to a party alone, which feels weird for Beth—though at least her siblings will be there. The two start talking about their friend group. Beth admits she’s never gotten close to Ashley or Emily, while Wynn mentions that Ash is pretty smart (she even tutored her) and that she likes Em’s style, though she doesn’t know much about her personally. Beth just responds with a noncommittal "Hm," offering no real reaction. A silence falls between them, neither sure what to say next—until Beth sighs and breaks it.

"Alright, I’m almost there. But Wynn, can’t you just come for a little bit? Bring your books and stuff—maybe you could study here?" —❄️

Beth tries one last time to convince her. She really wants Wynn there so they can hang out together. Wynn lets out a quick chuckle and answers sarcastically.

"Yeah, like I’ll be able to study with drunk people around me." —⭐️ "C’mon, this’ll be the last time I ask you." —❄️

After a pause, Wynn stretches in her chair and finally gives in. She does want to go out—and if she takes her backpack, her parents might allow it, since they adore Beth.

"Fine. But don’t mention anything about a party to my parents tomorrow." —⭐️

"Jesus, finally! I won’t, don’t worry." —❄️

Beth’s voice betrays her happiness at the news. Wynn starts smiling too.

"I’ll see you soon, then?" —❄️ "Yup, but it’ll take a while for me to get there, so you’ll actually be seeing me later." —⭐️ "Okay, okay. Later it is, smartass." —❄️

Wynn laughs. "I’ll see you later, Beth." —⭐️ "See you soon—and stay safe!" —❄️

Those are the last words they exchange. But when Wynn finally arrives in the mountains and keeps dialing Beth’s phone… there’s no reply.

[potatoesandsunshine]

hello! for the fic asks, this part from "like a wolf in the doorway":

 Percy takes a breath, looking at the inked veins and the scribbled notes in the margins, thinking of blood flow. “Oliver liked to climb trees.”

   Just saying it leaves him breathless. He can summon up the image clearly now, untainted by the dark cloud he now thinks was the demon, and it somehow hurts all the more to picture Ollie and Whitney running across the castle grounds, play-fighting in the spring air. There is no rage to catch him and put him back into motion; only a deep, aching emptiness remains.

   He drags in air, but he’s drowning.

   Pike isn’t in armor today. She moves carefully into his space—she does everything carefully—and catches his good hand in hers. Her skin is warm. When did he get so cold?

   “Thank you for telling me,” is all she says, and then she starts a long story about Grog, her great-great-grandfather, and a herd of perilously stubborn goats. By the time she reaches the punchline, he’s well enough to laugh.

   “We can do this today,” he says, looking at the parts and looking at her, a wild rush buoying him. “It’ll work, I know it.”

   And Pike, probably realizing that he’ll do it alone if she refuses, says yes.

    He comes to on the floor of the workshop with the soft golden veil of the Everlight’s power over his mind, dulling the memory—the length of soiled bandages peeled back, Pike holding his wrist down with furious strength as he tried to fit everything together, nothing to numb him and it was so, so bad, he’d shouted—it’s all fading quickly, and he doesn’t want to drag it back up. He can leave this pain here in this room. 

   His throat aches and Pike is inspecting his left hand, bending the fingers one by one to touch the smooth metal that sits where his palm used to be. There’s an empty socket there, but she doesn’t ask what he’s going to put in it.

   Percy smiles, a bright flash of teeth.

hi!!!!!!! thank you so much!!! i love talking about my fic and the tlovm oneshots project as a whole was a really fun experiment to do. i wanted to be a little more involved in the fandom as the show was coming out, and i set the ‘just try to write 1k about each episode’ bar intentionally low so that it couldn’t intimidate me. this was a pretty big success - i didn’t really manage to keep current with the release of the show, but it did keep me writing all through 2023 :) now about this passage specifically!!

“Oliver liked to climb trees.”

the older i get the sadder i get about the de rolo children. genuinely it is so so so sad.

There is no rage to catch him and put him back into motion; only a deep, aching emptiness remains.

i wanted this moment of really abrupt and painful vulnerability for percy - i feel like tlovm!percy is even worse at dealing with his emotions than campaign!percy, mostly due to the compressed nature of the adaptation - and what i want most with this character is to turn the rock over and see all of his metaphorical bugs wriggling around underneath. a huge part of this fic was me wanting to address the demon as a coping mechanism; i wanted it to feel worse to remember the good times once he could remember them clearly, because it comes with the pain of knowing he’ll never have those days again. sometimes smiling because it happened brings no comfort at all.

Pike isn’t in armor today. She moves carefully into his space—she does everything carefully—and catches his good hand in hers.

it was also a big priority for me that the characters sometimes get things wrong about each other in these oneshots! pike does not do everything carefully - but percy needs to think she does. it’s not that she’s being dishonest or anything, but he’s encountering her in an extremely specific context in this scene and he’s choosing to read that as a blanket statement about her personality. we’re pre-sunken tomb in this scene, but he’s already looking to put people on pedestals around himself; if he’s looking up, he doesn’t have to face the huge pit of grief inside. wow this fic is a downer!

“We can do this today,” he says, looking at the parts and looking at her, a wild rush buoying him.

THAT’S MY KING OF MOOD SWINGS!!!!! YOU CAN INVENT YOUR WAY OUT OF ANY TRAUMA IF YOU JUST INVENT HARD ENOUGH!

He comes to on the floor ... He can leave this pain here in this room.

it’s genuinely a minor miracle from pike that allowed this surgery to happen - a fun bit of irony, since percy really doesn’t put much stock in the divine. and i’m not being subtle in this paragraph; he can leave this pain here, but he’s carrying the rest of it with him forever. this whole pike scene is kind of... the relief of ripping off the scab if that makes sense? it might not be a good move in the long run, but at least you’ve done something with all of it in the moment.

Percy smiles, a bright flash of teeth.

this is a triumphant moment for him. i wanted to turn Diplomacy into a collaborative piece, to reflect the combo-move it was with vax later on in the show & because i love putting pike and percy in a room together. i wish it had happened more during the campaign, and i’m desperate for it in tlovm (though i don’t really expect to get it, there’s just not time). so he’s smiling, and he won, but he’s also always picking at scabs and becoming the architect of his own destruction. that’s the secret sauce for percy imo. he should always be building the next thing that ruins him, especially if that thing is himself.

[ankhmutes]

Sunny's Boys: Bad Boy Shane

I couldn't resist. I had to post this. This is unfixed, fresh, raw off the press like I usually post, so I apologize for errors. This takes place in my King's River universe and you can see it if you squint, but can be stand-alone as well if you want to ignore the Easter eggs.

Warning: Unprotected Sex somewhere in here. Minors, please do not interact. Thank you.

You are the little sister of Sam & Dean Winchester. You keep yourself out of trouble by tending bar....people just love you and end up calling you Sunny, and the name just....stuck.

You were tending bar in this dinky town in Georgia, while your brothers were hunting somewhere up in the pacific northwest. Last you heard, there was some weird-ass thing in Oregon that had stranded them in a town full of demons or Sasquatches or something or other. You weren’t worried. Your brothers could handle themselves, and you’d just know if something happened to them.

You were working a hunt in the next town over, but you needed some legit money and you didn’t totally trust the way your brothers made their money, but it was a nice side hustle, that was for sure. You ended up tending bar at Harvelle’s half the time, and that had led you to your current situation, tending bar at the hole-in-the -wall tavern on the side of the highway at the edge of King’s River. You refused to enter the town, there was something wrong with the town. You could feel it in your bones, so you were content to tend bar at the edge. You would leave King’s River to Bobby, your brothers, or your dad- if you ever saw the motherfucker again. 

You eyed the two men coming into the bar. You knew they were sheriff’s deputies- they had been called over to Whitney’s several times since you had started working there, but this time they were out of uniform.. And my, were they out of uniform. Your eyes sparkled and you hurried to the back room briefly, using the secret employee bathroom to freshen yourself up and make sure the girls were nice and perky. You freshened up your gloss, hoisted the boobs, and tugged down the ripped collar of your Jack Daniels tank top a bit more. You were blessed with an amazing firecracker body, and you knew just how to use it. You needed to take advantage of the chance that your brothers were not in town. You’d see how many hot men you could land…

You sauntered out of the bathroom, all big brown eyes and a knowing smile. 

“Hi there, boys.”  you smile your brightest smile at Rick n’ Shane. You knew you’d pull both boys, but the only question was when. And you felt lucky tonight. After all, you had your lucky panties on. “What’s it gonna be tonight? I see no badges, so it’s my lucky night.” you flirt shamelessly with Rick and Shane. Rick blushes and looks askance, his eyes skittering everywhere but you as he shyly asks for a beer. You bend over to the cooler, making sure your butt was on full view for the boys, tugging your shirt ever so slightly so your nipples would be nice and perky from the cold burst of air. 

“That’ll be a fiver, officer friendly.” you say with a wink at Rick. Rick nodded, slipping you a ten and told you to keep the change. You smiled and tucked away the ten, giving yourself the change and tucking it away nicely in your tip jar, which was your bra. Shane grinned and nudged Rick, who just nodded and took slow sips of his beer, his cheeks still red. 

“I’ll just have what you’re having, darling.” Shane said with a wink. You could drown in those brown eyes, full of sparkly mischief. You poured Shane a whiskey and coke, and slid him the drink, picking up a cherry and sliding it through your lips to give it a kiss before dunking it in the drink. 

“Can’t forget a bit of sugar for your drink, ya know.” you smile saucily at Shane, winking at him as you saunter off to take care of the customers, making sure to slide a few winks and grins Shane’s way. You could see by the way Shane was enjoying himself, that you would be the center of attention soon. You decided to milk it a bit, just a teeny bit to see if he would get jealous, or if he would just smirk and enjoy the show. 

You served the Dixons a coke each, cutting off Merle and telling Daryl he’d better take his brother home before he got himself into trouble. The handsome little brother nodded, silently dropping the entirety of their tab on the counter and yelling at Merle to get his ugly ass outta the door. 

The T & M boys were rowdier than the Dixons, two of them flirting shamelessly with you as you handed them their round of beers. You giggled as one of them slid a ten down your back pocket, whispering that you were a nice slow drink of whiskey on a hot evening. You shivered at the imagery as you thanked him with a wink and an extra saunter back to the counter. You could feel Shane’s eyes on you the whole night. You were his prey, or was it the other way around, you wondered as your doe brown eyes widened ever so slightly, at the look Shane shot you. 

“You know, it’s about time for my break.” you found yourself announcing, leaning forward to Rick, giving him a shot. Rick blushed, smiling as he sipped at his beer and murmured he was good for now. Your eyes slid over to Shane, as you tugged slightly at his jacket. Shane leaned back in his seat and tilted his head, his eyes glinting with lust as he eyed you up and down. 

“I think when your shift’s over…. It’ll be time to play.” Shane said with a wide grin as he leaned forward to whisper, “after all, I’m enjoying the show.”  You felt your stomach drop, and your panties were soaked. You hadn’t planned on this twist on things. You gulped slightly, brows raising as you reminded yourself not to tip your hand and show too much interest. After all you did understand where he was coming from, most of the thrill came from the chase and the previews. 

“Well, all right then. I’ll be back in ten, gonna grab a smoke.” You went out back, leaning on the siding and thinking of what to do. It was hard to phase a bad boy, they had seen it all, done it all. You had heard about some of his exploits from Rick himself, and it didn’t help that he was older… by quite a few years. 

Okay, he was not quite a Hot Older Man™ like the Dixons and the T & M boys were, and you were fresh out of … well, whatever. Sam was a law school dropout, and Dean had barely made it out of high school. You had only achieved an AA degree, enough to get into nursing school, before dropping out, and ending up here. You had no illusions about how far you could get with Shane… and you knew you’d have to make your experience count. You rubbed your thighs together, and the idea hit you like lightning. 

You looked around, and hurried back inside, making sure your cigarette was put out before doing the deed. You were sure you had to be drunk, but you had only sneaked two sips of Shane’s drink, not even close to get you buzzed. Yet here you were. Your black silk thong tucked away in your pocket. 

“Hey there handsome.” you say to Shane, sliding up to him and making sure he had full eye contact with your chest as you asked if he wanted a refill. 

“One more for the road, sure.” he said with a nod as he leaned back in his chair, ready for the show he would get. You flipped tables on him, making him his drink professionally, and dropping in a cherry and walking the long-ass way around the bar, right up to him and handing it to him directly. Your hand slid along his arm, and your hand slipped the panties into his pocket, smirking as you whispered the dirtiest thing you had ever heard someone say in his ear and walked right past him, your eyes lighting up as you heard him choke on his drink behind you. 

You sauntered around the room, making sure all the regulars were happy and served, and the new faces were equally as sated, making sure to flirt a little extra with the regulars, knowing that every time someone’s hand strayed closer to your thigh, Shane’s stool would squeal slightly as he shifted in his seat. 

You played this game for a good while, until it was nearly time for your shift to end, and Bill was due to come in to take over for you. It was a perfect ending to the evening, the long-haired redhead was an amazing flirt, and it didn’t help he always wore black leather, and had a mysterious French girlfriend, but Shane didn’t need to know that part. 

“Sunny!” Bill said with a wide grin as he sauntered up to you, giving you a nice smack on the ass. “That’s my beautiful girl, will everything go smoothly?”

“It’s been a slow night, so should be fine....” you said with a nod to Bill, leaning up to give him a nice slow hug, making sure your skirt slid up just- enough-  to taunt Shane. You could hear the stool squeak loudly as Shane shifted in his seat and Rick shot him a dark look. 

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got ants in your pants, all night long.” Rick said with a scoff. “Go get it out of your system, it can’t be the Dixons, they’re long gone by now.”

“It’s all good.” Shane said with a nod as he shot you a dark look, his eyes darting to the back door. You knew he was practically demanding you meet him out back. You didn’t dare peek down at his pants, you knew he would have quite the tent.  You make the show of gathering your jacket, your small backpack and waving goodbye to everyone, making sure to lean over to give the Teller Morrow boys a warm and fond farewell. You wouldn’t mind if that one handsome Scotsman got a glimpse in the process… maybe he’d make for a good guinea pig for a few ideas you had come up with while teasing Shane all night long. 

“Where have you been?” Shane shot at you in the darkness as you walked towards your jeep. “You’re very naughty, you know. I didn’t think you'd pull this off.” Shane said with a laugh as he held up your panties. You leaned back against the door of the jeep, stretching your body out as Shane latched onto you, his mouth imprinting a small path of hot kisses down your neck, his hands sliding up your body to touch every part of you he could. You felt yourself floating, the waves of heat hitting you like you were a tiny boat out in the middle of the ocean. You could only hang on for dear life, and enjoy the ride. 

“Baby, you have no idea how hard you got me. I could pound nails with this thing.” Shane grunted as his mouth moved lower, his hands cradling your breasts and kneading them gently. “God, the things I want to do to you…you’re a tornado with pretty eyes and a heartbeat.” His brown eyes stared into yours for a long minute as he breathed out the cold air, smirking as his head tilted towards the jeep. 

“Better not ticket me for public indecency.” you shot out to Shane with a giggle as you unlocked your jeep and scuttled inside, Shane slamming the door behind you and his hands slid around you, his hand finding the spot to make you moan, your hips moving as he finger-fucked you in the backseat of the jeep, only pausing enough to keep you on the edge as he slid his pants down, murmuring dirty things to you, keeping your pussy nice and soaked for him. 

“Come here, sunshine,  promise I’ll be good.” Shane held up a condom, and you giggled. 

“Better be good, I just had this detailed over at Dixon’s.” you gasp and moan as his cock slid right into you, you forgetting everything that had just happened over the last two seconds. You weren’t one for small talk or witty banter. Right now you needed that hot dick, and you needed it now. 

“Oh, I’m more than good, sunny.” Shane panted out as he slid out, teasing you as he gripped your ass, giving you a spank each time he slid out, your ass glinting nice and pink in the darkness under the streetlight in the parking lot. The Jeep rocked forward with each thrust of Shane’s hips, and a loud smack broke the silence, your whimpering increasing with each smack. 

“Oh god, sunshine. C’mon, Sunny. C’mon.” Shane goaded, panting as you could hear it in his voice, he was getting closer and closer with each thrust, his hands teasing your breasts as he held on to them. A long moment later, his hands moved down to your hips, and you could feel him come, hear the hot gasps as his body shuddered. . 

‘Shaaaaane.” you could hear yourself whine, as you impaled yourself on his cock even harder, Shane gasping as you milked him dry.  “Shane.” You finally panted out, as Shane slid out of you and took care of business. 

You had your panties on, and you were ready to go home. You looked at Shane with a grin like the cat who got in the cream. You had pressed a post-it with the hotel and room number in his hand.

“You know where to find me.”

You had left Shane behind in the parking lot. You knew Shane wasn’t the type for cuddling, for pleasantries, for…. Anything, really. He was amazing, and you’d fuck him again in a heartbeat. You were pretty sure though, that he had his eye on someone. And you didn’t want to get into that hot mess. No, you were just fine having a wonderful one night stand with a hot police officer. You had learned from your brother, not to mess around with the people. They were all good, but you couldn’t stay. 

You wouldn’t stay. You had learned from Daddy, that there was no place to call home… unless your brothers were there too. 

The hotel phone rang, and you let out a groan. You were pretty sure only three people could find you, and you really didn’t want to talk to any of them right now. You were still riding that post-sex high that you had gotten from Shane. 

“Yeah?” you asked, stretching out on the bed. 

“We’re coming your way. Bobby told us.”

“What?” you groaned as you flopped on your side.

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Well, the cop I just fucked didn’t say a damn thing to me about that.” you whined into the phone. You could hear cranky noises from your brothers. “So you’re one up on me.”

“Sunny, come on, don’t be like Dean, that’s just gross.” Sam whined on the phone. You grinned. You always had fun poking at your brothers, they were such hypocritical babies. You murmured a goodbye as you heard a knock on the door. 

Shane. He actually had shown up for an encore performance. You grinned and hopped up from the bed, opening the door for him. He looked cocky, handsome and sure of himself. It was definitely going to be a night where you would be on top. 

You were on top,  but then you decided to clean up. It was the clean up that had you both giggling, and  you told Shane he could crash and sleep it off after you had given him a blowjob, since both of you had polished off the minibar. The morning came, bright and early and contrary to your nickname, you were not sunshine in the morning. You and Shane were rudely awakened by your brothers swinging the door open. 

“God damnit, Sunny. I didn’t need that.” Dean grunted as he thumped his bags down and shielding his eyes, Sam openly staring at Shane, who had leaped out of the bed fully nude, gun in hand.

“Yeah, he’s the cop.” you said as you sat up in bed, holding the sheet up to your breasts. “Can’t I get a break or something? Rosie’s has got pie. Klinger's gonna make sure it’s on the house if you say it’s for me n' Shane. Coffee, too. Two coffees.”  You boss your brothers out of the door, the two of them protesting yet allowing you to slam the door in their faces.

“What the fuck?”

“Big brothers. They’re investigators.” you said smoothly as you got dressed. “Did something happen recently? That’s the only reason they’d bust in like this.” you said as you eyed Shane, giving him a playful swat on his butt as he put on his pants. You couldn’t help yourself, he looked so cute getting dressed and you knew this would be the last time to get up and personal. You seized the opportunity, since he did clearly have  decent morning wood…. 

You slid behind him and toyed with the waistband of his pants, turning him around to face you. He was slightly stunned as you got on your knees and slid his shorts down, sliding his slightly hardening dick in your mouth. It was wet and firm, your mouth sliding up and down working him like a popsicle. He gulped and groaned, leaning against the wall while you blew him and he came down your throat, your mouth disposing of all the evidence. You rose to your feet as if nothing had happened. 

“Uh.. yeah, yeah. We weren’t supposed to say anything. Captain Riker has got us buttoned down tight.” Shane pulled on his shirt and cap, still trying to catch his breath from the surprise blow job as Sam and Dean came back in, coffee in hand.  “Thanks, dude. Will put in a word with Cap for ya..” Shane said with a cocky shit-eating grin as he grabbed his coffee from Dean, and sauntered out of the hotel room. You could hear your brothers bitching him out, and you tuned them out as you grabbed your cup.

One down……

your mind is already thinking of the wide selection you had at the roadhouse. Perhaps, just perhaps, King's River wasn’t actually all bad…. 

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson 10.29.24

Heather Cox Richardson 10.29.24

On Monday, October 28, 1929, New York’s Metropolitan Opera Company opened its forty-fifth season.

Four thousand attendees in their finest clothes strolled to the elegant building on foot or traveled in one of a thousand limousines to see Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, the melodramatic story of an innocent French girl seduced by wealth, whose reluctance to leave her riches for true love leads to her arrest and tragic death. Photographers captured images of the era’s social celebrities as they arrived at opening night, their flash bulbs blinding the crowd that had gathered to see the famous faces and expensive gowns.

No one toasting the beginning of the opera season that night knew they were marking the end of an era.

At ten o’clock the next morning, when the opening gong sounded in the great hall of the New York Stock Exchange, men began to unload their stocks. So fast did trading go that by the end of the day, the ticker recording transactions ran two and a half hours late. When the final tally could be read, it showed that an extraordinary 16,410,030 shares had traded hands, and the market had lost $14 billion. The market had been uneasy for weeks before the twenty-ninth, but Black Tuesday began a slide that seemingly would not end. By mid-November the industrial average was half of what it had been in September. The economic boom that had fueled the Roaring Twenties was over.

Once the bottom fell out of the stock market, the economy ground down. Manufacturing output dropped to levels lower than those of 1913. The production of pig iron fell to what it had been in the 1890s. Foreign trade dropped by $7 billion, down to just $3 billion. The price of wheat fell from $1.05 a bushel to 39 cents; corn dropped from 81 to 33 cents; cotton fell from 17 to 6 cents a pound. Prices dropped so low that selling crops meant taking a loss, so struggling farmers simply let them rot in the fields. 

By 1932, over one million people in New York City were unemployed. By 1933 the number of unemployed across the nation rose to 13 million people—one out of every four American workers. Unable to afford rent or pay mortgages, people lived in shelters made of packing boxes.

No one knew how to combat the Great Depression, but certain wealthy Americans were sure they knew what had caused it. The problem, they said, was that poor Americans refused to work hard enough and were draining the economy. They must be forced to take less. “Liquidate labor, liquidate stocks, liquidate the farmers, liquidate real estate,” Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon told President Herbert Hoover. “It will purge the rottenness out of the system. High costs of living and high living will come down. People will work harder, live a more moral life. Values will be adjusted, and enterprising people will pick up the wrecks from less competent people.” 

Slash government spending, agreed the Chicago Tribune: lay off teachers and government workers, and demand that those who remain accept lower wages. Richard Whitney, a former president of the Stock Exchange, told the Senate that the only way to restart the economy was to cut government salaries and veterans’ benefits (although he told them that his own salary—which at sixty thousand dollars was six times higher than theirs—was “very little” and couldn’t be reduced).

President Hoover knew little about finances, let alone how to fix an economic crisis of global proportions. He tried to reverse the economic slide by cutting taxes and reassuring Americans that “the fundamental business of the country, that is, production and distribution of commodities, is on a sound and prosperous basis.” 

But taxes were already so low that most folks would see only a few extra dollars a year from the cuts, and the fundamental business of the country was not, in fact, sound. When suffering Americans begged for public works programs to provide jobs, Hoover insisted that such programs were a “soak the rich” program that would “enslave” taxpayers, and called instead for private charity.

By the time Hoover’s term ended, Americans were ready to try a new approach to economic recovery. They refused to reelect Hoover and turned instead to New York Governor Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who promised to use the federal government to provide jobs and a safety net to enable Americans to weather hard times. He promised the American people a “New Deal”: a government that would work for everyone, not just for the wealthy and well connected.

As soon as Roosevelt was in office, Democrats began to pass laws protecting workers’ rights, providing government jobs, regulating business and banking, and beginning to chip away at the racial segregation of the American South. New Deal policies employed more than 8.5 million people, built more than 650,000 miles of highways, built or repaired more than 120,000 bridges, and put up more than 125,000 buildings. 

They regulated banking and the stock market and gave workers the right to bargain collectively. They established minimum wages and maximum hours for work. They provided a basic social safety net and regulated food and drug safety. And when World War II broke out, the new system enabled the United States to defend democracy successfully against fascists both at home—where they had grown strong enough to turn out almost 20,000 people to a rally at Madison Square Garden in 1939—and abroad. 

The New Deal worked so well that common men and women across the country hailed FDR as their leader, electing him an unprecedented four times. Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower built on the New Deal when voters elected him in 1952. He bolstered the nation’s infrastructure with the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which provided $25 billion to build 41,000 miles of highway across the country; added the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare to the government and called for a national healthcare system.

Eisenhower nominated former Republican governor of California Earl Warren as chief justice of the Supreme Court to protect civil rights, which he would begin to do with the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision months after joining the court. Eisenhower also insisted on the vital importance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to stop the Soviet Union from spreading communism throughout Europe.

Eisenhower called his vision “a middle way between untrammeled freedom of the individual and the demands of the welfare of the whole Nation.” 

The system worked: between 1945 and 1960 the nation’s gross national product (GNP) jumped by 250%, from $200 billion to $500 billion. The vast majority of Americans of both parties liked the new system that had helped the nation to recover from the Depression and to equip the Allies to win World War II. 

Politicians and commentators agreed that most Democrats and Republicans shared a “liberal consensus” that the government should regulate business, provide for basic social welfare, promote infrastructure, and protect civil rights. It seemed the country had finally created a government that best reflected democratic values. 

Indeed, that liberal consensus seemed so universal that the only place to find opposition was in entertainment. Popular radio comedian Fred Allen’s show included a caricature, Senator Beauregard Claghorn, a southern blowhard who pontificated, harrumphed, and took his reflexive hatred of the North to ridiculous extremes. A buffoon who represented the past, the Claghorn character was such a success that he starred in his own Hollywood film and later became the basis for the Looney Tunes cartoon rooster Foghorn Leghorn.

[misfitwashere]

October 28, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 28, 2024

On Monday, October 28, 1929, New York’s Metropolitan Opera Company opened its forty-fifth season.

Four thousand attendees in their finest clothes strolled to the elegant building on foot or traveled in one of a thousand limousines to see Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, the melodramatic story of an innocent French girl seduced by wealth, whose reluctance to leave her riches for true love leads to her arrest and tragic death. Photographers captured images of the era’s social celebrities as they arrived at opening night, their flash bulbs blinding the crowd that had gathered to see the famous faces and expensive gowns.

No one toasting the beginning of the opera season that night knew they were marking the end of an era.

At ten o’clock the next morning, when the opening gong sounded in the great hall of the New York Stock Exchange, men began to unload their stocks. So fast did trading go that by the end of the day, the ticker recording transactions ran two and a half hours late. When the final tally could be read, it showed that an extraordinary 16,410,030 shares had traded hands, and the market had lost $14 billion. The market had been uneasy for weeks before the twenty-ninth, but Black Tuesday began a slide that seemingly would not end. By mid-November the industrial average was half of what it had been in September. The economic boom that had fueled the Roaring Twenties was over.

Once the bottom fell out of the stock market, the economy ground down. Manufacturing output dropped to levels lower than those of 1913. The production of pig iron fell to what it had been in the 1890s. Foreign trade dropped by $7 billion, down to just $3 billion. The price of wheat fell from $1.05 a bushel to 39 cents; corn dropped from 81 to 33 cents; cotton fell from 17 to 6 cents a pound. Prices dropped so low that selling crops meant taking a loss, so struggling farmers simply let them rot in the fields. 

By 1932, over one million people in New York City were unemployed. By 1933 the number of unemployed across the nation rose to 13 million people—one out of every four American workers. Unable to afford rent or pay mortgages, people lived in shelters made of packing boxes.

No one knew how to combat the Great Depression, but certain wealthy Americans were sure they knew what had caused it. The problem, they said, was that poor Americans refused to work hard enough and were draining the economy. They must be forced to take less. “Liquidate labor, liquidate stocks, liquidate the farmers, liquidate real estate,” Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon told President Herbert Hoover. “It will purge the rottenness out of the system. High costs of living and high living will come down. People will work harder, live a more moral life. Values will be adjusted, and enterprising people will pick up the wrecks from less competent people.” 

Slash government spending, agreed the Chicago Tribune: lay off teachers and government workers, and demand that those who remain accept lower wages. Richard Whitney, a former president of the Stock Exchange, told the Senate that the only way to restart the economy was to cut government salaries and veterans’ benefits (although he told them that his own salary—which at sixty thousand dollars was six times higher than theirs—was “very little” and couldn’t be reduced).

President Hoover knew little about finances, let alone how to fix an economic crisis of global proportions. He tried to reverse the economic slide by cutting taxes and reassuring Americans that “the fundamental business of the country, that is, production and distribution of commodities, is on a sound and prosperous basis.” 

But taxes were already so low that most folks would see only a few extra dollars a year from the cuts, and the fundamental business of the country was not, in fact, sound. When suffering Americans begged for public works programs to provide jobs, Hoover insisted that such programs were a “soak the rich” program that would “enslave” taxpayers, and called instead for private charity.

By the time Hoover’s term ended, Americans were ready to try a new approach to economic recovery. They refused to reelect Hoover and turned instead to New York Governor Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who promised to use the federal government to provide jobs and a safety net to enable Americans to weather hard times. He promised the American people a “New Deal”: a government that would work for everyone, not just for the wealthy and well connected.

As soon as Roosevelt was in office, Democrats began to pass laws protecting workers’ rights, providing government jobs, regulating business and banking, and beginning to chip away at the racial segregation of the American South. New Deal policies employed more than 8.5 million people, built more than 650,000 miles of highways, built or repaired more than 120,000 bridges, and put up more than 125,000 buildings. 

They regulated banking and the stock market and gave workers the right to bargain collectively. They established minimum wages and maximum hours for work. They provided a basic social safety net and regulated food and drug safety. And when World War II broke out, the new system enabled the United States to defend democracy successfully against fascists both at home—where they had grown strong enough to turn out almost 20,000 people to a rally at Madison Square Garden in 1939—and abroad. 

The New Deal worked so well that common men and women across the country hailed FDR as their leader, electing him an unprecedented four times. Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower built on the New Deal when voters elected him in 1952. He bolstered the nation’s infrastructure with the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which provided $25 billion to build 41,000 miles of highway across the country; added the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare to the government and called for a national healthcare system.

Eisenhower nominated former Republican governor of California Earl Warren as chief justice of the Supreme Court to protect civil rights, which he would begin to do with the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision months after joining the court. Eisenhower also insisted on the vital importance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to stop the Soviet Union from spreading communism throughout Europe.

Eisenhower called his vision “a middle way between untrammeled freedom of the individual and the demands of the welfare of the whole Nation.” 

The system worked: between 1945 and 1960 the nation’s gross national product (GNP) jumped by 250%, from $200 billion to $500 billion. The vast majority of Americans of both parties liked the new system that had helped the nation to recover from the Depression and to equip the Allies to win World War II. 

Politicians and commentators agreed that most Democrats and Republicans shared a “liberal consensus” that the government should regulate business, provide for basic social welfare, promote infrastructure, and protect civil rights. It seemed the country had finally created a government that best reflected democratic values. 

Indeed, that liberal consensus seemed so universal that the only place to find opposition was in entertainment. Popular radio comedian Fred Allen’s show included a caricature, Senator Beauregard Claghorn, a southern blowhard who pontificated, harrumphed, and took his reflexive hatred of the North to ridiculous extremes. A buffoon who represented the past, the Claghorn character was such a success that he starred in his own Hollywood film and later became the basis for the Looney Tunes cartoon rooster Foghorn Leghorn.

—

[a-complex-joke]

Love Residence

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 (You are what you eat)

Come one come all to the fucking hell that is my high school.

Sure it's not like high school movies like Mean Girls or even Spiderman, but it is still full of douchebags and bullies.

The cafeteria is not the cliche only sit with your group, most people don't even eat in it, leaving to go have King Burger or Whitney's so that's about 64% gone the other 25% sit in the halls or outside so that leaves 11% in here, having no car means option one is out of the question.

Option too is good but if you find a spot you like it’s not always guaranteed to be empty, leaving the cafeteria, gray tables, walls, and feelings.

That is until she walked into my view every day

Kammy Lease, she's one of the popular people but doesn't act it her friends who are said douches and assholes from before, I mean sure she did have her enemies but they made themselves that.

She had started early November a year back and was instantly a hit with the guys. I thought she was a bitch at first like the others but she didn't support their bullying and made sure people were ok after they were picked on.

"umm hello," a voice said snapping me out of my trance, "oh sorry I had just blanked for a second," I said before looking at the person only to see it was Kammy "Oh no it's fine, I was just wondering… why do you eat alone every day," she said sitting down. "oh umm my friend eats at a fast food place nearby and my siblings have a different lunch period," I say looking away.

"So why are you sitting here instead of with your friends?" I asked, pointing towards them, refusing to look her in the eye. 

she gave a face of disgust "They said they were gonna take you to the woods and leave you for the demons after school" she said bluntly taking a bite of her ripe apple.

"what, why?" I asked, finally looking at her. "oh Ash didn't like how you looked at me" she said smiling. "but I warned you so you know what is coming" she continued "Plus they think if a demon eats the flesh of a virgin it will become human, which is not true BTW’s" she rolled her eyes.

"So what you're telling me is that they're gonna jump me after school, and leave me in the woods to die just cause I looked at you," I said wide-eyed. 

she nodded standing up before coming close to my ear and whispered

"But don't worry I have a plan" She walked out the door disappearing from sight. she may be better than her friends in the nice department, but seemed truly more evil than she seemed.

The feeling of piercing eyes on my back gave me the sneaking suspicion that the friends saw our little

[allyricas]

Moving On pt. 2

part one

3,180k words

The day of the trip to Indy finally arrives and the weather does not reflect the excitement Steve feels as he loads his last bag into the trunk of his car. He knows he overpacked but wants to be ready for anything. He also has a cooler full of drinks and sandwiches along with enough junk food to make anyone sick.

He and Robin had decided to make sure they had plenty of food so they could settle in to their hotel and chill the first night. Robin had an early campus tour and Steve had a meeting with an advisor at the community college he’d be taking his cosmetology courses. They had a packed schedule considering they needed to find an apartment and jobs (together if possible) and the urge to scope out the gay scene. Or find it, at the very least.  

Steve pulled into Robin’s driveway and saw that she’d also slightly overpacked. Two halves of the same soul, the two of them. He got out and helped her load up her bags. She was holding a thermos of something and wearing a pair of Steve’s sweatpants. That’s where those went. He’d been looking for them for a week. Robin had a tendency to steal his clothes which mostly just made Steve feel all loved and shit, so he only complained for appearance’s sake.  

“Rob, my fucking sweatpants. Come on, I’ve been looking for them.” He whined. He truly didn’t mean it all.  

“Shut up, they are my pants now. They look hotter on me.” She laughed, doing a pathetic little shimmy. She was not a morning person. The messy bed head and the large amount of coffee she was inhaling made this apparent. “I am so tired, but really fucking excited. I brought the music. You are banned for the entire drive up and back. I will fucking jump out of this car if you play any sad, pining music. This is fun time not sad boy time.”   

“That tape has Whitney and George Michael on it. It’s not a total sad fest.”  

“Liar. You cry the most whenever careless whisper comes on.” Robin replied viciously.  

“Let’s uh, not talk about that please.” Steve knew he was still whining a bit, but Robbie was mean in the morning.  

The drive up went smoothly despite the terrible weather. Fifteen minutes into the drive, it started to torrentially rain. Thunder shook the car and lightning lit up the sky. Robin did in fact have all upbeat music and refused to let Steve play anything remotely sad. This was good as he was feeling rather happy in the moment. At one point it rained so hard, Steve had to pull over and wait for it to slow down as Robin started hyperventilating. What should have been an hour and fifteen-minute drive took three hours, but time spent with his best friend was always good.  

Navigating the city was invigorating (for Steve) and anxiety inducing (for Robin), but they both could barely contain their excitement when they finally pulled up to the motel they're staying at. It’s a little mom and pop place that Joyce and Hop had recommended. Why those two have a favorite motel in the city, Steve doesn't want to think to much about.

It’s a cute place, white shutters and soft yellow paint with a rustic looking sign that says The Mosey Inn. The rooms were entered from the outside, with parking all around the place. There were plants everywhere and everything had a well-loved appeal. It’s a rather nice little place. He goes in to check them in and there is an older woman at the desk. She's one of those people who radiates kindness and Steve likes her right away.  

“Hello there, dear. Welcome to the Mosey Inn. I’m one-half of Mosey, but you can call me Elise.” She’s smiling softly at him as he walks up to the desk. 

“Hi, I have a reservation for Harrington. For a suite with two queens.” He finds he’s nervous which feels silly. He grew up checking into hotels and dealing with reservations. Usually, it was at swanky hotels that his parents would leave him in before he was old enough to be all alone at home.  

“Of course, sweetie. Joyce and that sweet Jimmy told me all about you the last time they visited for the weekend. I just adore them. Jimmy did some handy work for me and the missus last time they were here. We’re getting up there in age and my Maggie cannot be climbing ladders anymore. I always give them a discount and I like the look of you, dear. I’ll give you one too.”

She’s beaming at Steve like she is thrilled to meet him which is not something he’s exactly used to. He’s thinking over what she said. The missus, her Maggie. He looks around the room and spots a tiny pink triangle on a bookshelf. Oh. This was a safe place. He owed Hop and Joyce dinner because this was the nicest surprise he’d gotten in a long time. He'd definitely be calling Hopper by the nickname Jimmy though.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I know my friend Robin and I are going to enjoy this trip even more now knowing this is a safe place for people like us.” That felt as close to telling a stranger he was gay he could manage, but it felt huge to say it. It meant something to find this little piece of community with two women who were old enough to be his grandmothers. He felt like he might cry and for once, there were happy tears brimming in his eyes.  

“Please, call me Elise. There’s no ma’am, none of that uppity nonsense. This place is for friends, you understand.” She told him in a voice so genuine that Steve choked back a sob. He handed over his credit card and she handed him two room keys. “We offer breakfast and lunch, usually buffet style unless we say otherwise. There’s a coffee station around the corner and there’s always some sort of snacks next to it. If you need anything just give us a ring. Feel free to come chat anytime. Enjoy your stay.” 

“I think I will, Elise. I’ll bring Robin around to meet you once we’re settled, probably for breakfast tomorrow!” 

_________________________________________

As soon as Steve got back into the car, he excitedly told Robin all about Elise and her partner and how the Inn was a safe place for them. The fact that Joyce and Hopper stayed here whenever they wanted a night or two away from the chaos of their little blended family filled Steve with joy. He knew that they weren’t hateful people, but this was outright acceptance by the adults he respected most in his life. Robin was rambling on about the décor of the inn as he lugged their many suitcases into their room. She just smiled at him as he struggled.

It was cozy with two queen beds and a little kitchenette and a sitting area off to the side. There was a good size bathroom and closet. It was decorated in soft hues of yellow and green with floral bedding. It was lovely and Steve felt immensely at home in this place.  

“This place is so cute!” Steve exclaimed happily, finally collapsing onto his bed. It was comfortable too. “Damn, this is going to be a nice trip. Elise said they offer 2 meals, that there’s a coffee station with snacks and this bed is fucking soft as hell.” 

“So basically, we can save a ton of money and try to eat here most of the time is what I'm hearing you say Steven?” This seemed to genuinely thrill Robin.  

“Absolutely, we can go visit with them tomorrow during breakfast. It’s from 6:30 to 8:30.” Steve knew this was going to cause some mild stress for Robin. This delighted him. 

“Ugh, ugh. For free breakfast and fellow lesbians, I will get up. You might have to drag me though.” 

Steve laughed, delighted at the prospect of waking Robin up in the morning. It was early evening, but they decided to munch on the leftover food from the drive in and relax. There was a small tv, so they found something to put on and got comfortable. The day so far had been nearly free of sad thoughts over Eddie, but it seemed inevitable that Steve would start to think about him. For one thing, Eddie would look ridiculous in the Mosey Inn, although he would thoroughly appreciate the pun. Yet, there was a part of Steve wishing that Eddie was a part of all of this.

Before he’d ruined everything, Eddie would have been invited on this trip without a second thought. If only he could go back and not fall in love with stupid Eddie Munson. Steve worries that falling for him would have been inevitable though. Everything about him made Steve crazy.

The moment he knew he was monumentally fucked was a few months after everything with Vecna went down. Eddie had still been in the hospital, thankfully cleared off all charges with Hopper back in charge. He’d been high off his ass on morphine and smiling at Steve. Eddie had looked at Steve and said, “Stevie, sweetheart—you beautiful man. How come you’re always sitting around here taking care of me huh?” and Steve had known several things.  

He wanted Eddie to smile at him like that for the rest of his life. He really enjoyed being called sweetheart. And the reason he was always hanging around was because he wanted to be with Eddie. Eddie who always lit up with joy when he saw Steve sitting by his hospital bed. All the time they spent walking that line between friends and more, or at least that’s what Steve thought.

He swore there was so much flirting back and forth. Like the time Steve snuck in cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes from the one diner left open in town and Eddie had told Steve, “All this for little old me?” while literally twirling his hair like a schoolgirl. Or when Steve brought in books for him and Eddie had just clasped Steve’s hand tight and said nothing, just staring intently at him like Steve really meant something to him.  

All misread apparently. It wasn’t flirting at all, just Eddie being Eddie. And Steve had ruined it. He tried not to spiral into his bad thoughts too much but he felt like he always ruined everything. Robin might be his best friend, his platonic soulmate and other half, but it’d been so nice to have a close guy friend.

Eddie had barely been out of the hospital when Steve had driven him up to Indy to replace some of his things lost to the earthquakes. There were better record stores and better thrift stores, and Eddie had very little left to his name. The trailer was gone. He’d even lost his beloved guitar. Steve had never planned on telling Eddie how he felt during that trip, but Eddie has a way of needling things out of people. Something Steve usually finds quite adorable, but not so much when it’s his own unrequited feelings.  

Sighing to himself, Steve sits down by the phone to call Dustin and tell him they made it to the city safely. This means actually calling Mike’s house since the boys are having their weekly nerd fest. The whole group of them are all a little codependent, but after everything they’ve been through it seems reasonable. Unfortunately, Mike nor Nancy answers the phone. It’s Karen Wheeler and she lets Steve know that the boys are all over at Eddie’s apartment playing their little game. That’s exactly what she calls it which does make him chuckle.

He dreads calling Eddie’s place, but he did promise Dustin he’d call. Dustin is already asking questions about him and Eddie. If he’s weird on the phone it will only fan the flames of Dustin’s incessant need to meddle. He dials the number and tries to psyche himself up for the interaction. Maybe one of the kids will answer.  

“Munson Residence, Eddie the Banished speaking?” Eddie’s voice fills Steve’s ear. It’s like a punch to the gut, but Steve takes a deep breath.  

“Is that how you really answer the phone all time or am I just lucky?” Steve asks lightly. Do not make this weird. Be cool. “Or is it just because you’re playing dungeons and whatever?”  

“Ha, Ha. I knew it was you telepathically, so I of course had to answer the phone accordingly. My liege, what can I do for you on this fine summer evening?” 

“You’re lucky it’s cute to be such a fucking nerd.” Shit, shit, shit. Abort flirting. “Kidding, kidding. I called to see if Dustin is still there. I told him I’d call when we got settled.” 

“Rude, I am absolutely the cutest nerd. I’d dare say, adorable even. The fairest in the land, perhaps.” Eddie’s voice had gone low and Steve would bet a hundred bucks he was twirling his hair. What the fuck? “You know, you obviously like nerdy shit considering you-” 

“Hey stop flirting with Steve and let me talk to him, I've been waiting to hear from him all day. We’re in the middle of a campaign Steve. We need our DM not whatever the fuck he was just doing.” Dustin says this all like he knows for a fact that everything he says is true. It’s not.

“Tone, dusty bun. I’m not gay and I wasn’t flirting with Harrington, just messing with him. He’s just so easy to tease. We’re just buddies like that, right man?” Eddie replied, his voice no longer soft, low and sweet. In fact, Eddie sounded hostile. Steve felt his stomach turn. He couldn't even reply.  

“Nothing wrong with being gay, you moron.” Dustin replied firmly. This made Steve smile considering Dustin didn’t even know about Steve yet. He was definitely his favorite kid. Dustin continued on “I mean, we’ve fought literal monsters. Of all things to get worked up over, being gay is not even on the damn list!”   

“I didn’t mean it in a rude way, just saying we were not flirting.” 

“Whatever you say Eddie.” 

“Um, hello guys I am still on the phone.” Steve yelled as the two of them continued to bicker. “I have to go, but I’ll call in a few days Dustin. Bye Eddie.” Steve replied, trying his best not to cry. 

“Wait-Harrington. Steve, I didn’t mean anything by that okay.” 

“Yeah of course, no worries, man. Talk to you later.” Steve knew his voice was emotionless.  

_______________________________

He had to get over Eddie. This confusing back and forth was so painful. Steve didn’t consider himself the brightest, but that felt like flirting. What straight guy calls himself the fairest of the land or adorable to another man? Eddie’s tone of voice was the exact same tone Steve had used so many times to flirt with girls. He knew what flirting looked like. He shouldn’t have started it with the cute comment, but Eddie had most certainly flirted back. He looked over at Robin who was sitting up and waiting patiently for Steve to hang up the phone.  

She looked worried. If his face was at all reflecting how he felt right now, he understood why. The way Eddie has sounded when he said he wasn’t flirting. He told Robin the entire conversation verbatim and he watched her face go through a myriad of emotions. Despite the fact that Robin wasn’t the most tactile person, she threw her arms around him and let him cry all over her t-shirt.  

“Well, I could just kill him. I swear to fucking God. If he’s not gay, fine. But why flirt back?” 

“Maybe he really isn’t flirting. He said he was just messing with me. Maybe we’ve been reading it wrong this whole time!” Steve cried.  

“Fuck that, even Dustin called him on it. He flirts with you all the time. If he’s just messing with you at this point, it’s cruel. Especially now that he knows you’re gay and have feelings for him. I won’t be friends with a bigot.” 

“No, Robbie. I don’t think he’s a bigot. He’s just trying to deal with all this. It’s not his fault I had to go and fall for him. I always fall for the first person who shows me any attention. I ruined this. He’s just...I think he’s a flirty person and I’m just the idiot who thought it meant something.” 

“Shut your whore mouth Steven Elizabeth. That’s absolute nonsense. Eddie is a socially awkward, metalhead D&D playing virgin. You and I both know it. I’ve never seen him so much as look at a girl in a romantic way. He barely talks to anyone he doesn’t know unless it’s to cause a scene. That boy is not a natural flirty person. He flirts with you. He’s either an idiot, a repressed idiot or an asshole. Pick one.” 

“He’s not a virgin, no way. Look at him. Some people go for the whole alternative thing. He’s in a band for fuck’s sake. I bet he’s fucked lots of girls. I mean, he is objectively hot.” Steve argued.  

“Steve!! You always defend him like some sort of rabid groupie, but if that man has so much as seen a real-life titty, I will eat my shoe. He isn’t ugly, I will grant you that one. But please, Eddie Munson is not banging hot chicks on the regular.” 

“I pick that he’s an idiot. I do not think Eddie would purposefully hurt me by flirting just to be all ‘ha-ha, gay boy you fell for it’ when he didn’t even know I was gay until I told him how I felt. I think he just likes to tease me, like he said and he doesn’t know how flirty it comes off maybe?” 

“Dingus. You are in love with him. You are no objective source on the situation.” 

“Can we just... pretend Eddie Munson doesn’t exist for a few days. I won’t play my mixtape. I will try not to mope... let’s just find an apartment and visit your campus and apply for jobs everywhere we can find. It hurts too much to talk about right now.” 

Steve knows he’s lying to Robin. It’s impossible for him to pretend Eddie doesn’t exist. It’d be nice to try though. Instead of trying, he wonders what Eddie’s thinking about back in Hawkins. Is he feeling bad for how he spoke to Steve tonight? Is he also worrying over every little thing he said? Does Eddie even care that what he said felt like a slap to the face? The way he’d said Harrington, instead of Steve. The disgust in his voice when he’d said he wasn’t flirting. At least it was crystal clear that Eddie would never reciprocate his feelings. It feels nearly impossible, but Steve knows he has to let go of Eddie and move on. Two weeks in Indy with Robin should be the perfect way to start trying.   

@koyislosinghismind

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring

@dilutedpondwater

@r0binscript

@wheatnoodle

@randomnessbecausewhynot

[angrelysimpping]

How do you think the LI + Wren would act with an hybrid PC in heat seaking their help

Sorry if my english is bad it's not my main language

It does not matter their dominance levels, Alex blushes when you first ask them. They've known you were a hybrid, but they didn't know you could even have a heat. But, Alex can't find it in them to refuse you. It's a good thing Alex is so strong or they wouldn't have any stamina left to see to you after all that farm work.

Oh, you better pray this happens at a hotel or Avery's pissed. In public, they drag you off, furious as they give some half-ass excuse to the party host or patrons of the restraint that are watching you cling to Avery's side and whine. Shoves you in the back of their car, muttering about how you're just a filthy fucking animal, unable to resist your base needs. But that's fine. Act like an animal and Avery will fuck you like one. Just don't come complaining to them when you can't walk the next morning. At the hotel, they adore it. You're begging Avery to wreck you, pleading with them that you'll do anything they want if they just help you cum. It's a power rush like they've never felt before. They'll help you out, but be prepared to pay Avery back.

Eden loves this. Loves how needy you are, how they're the only one who can help you. Loves it even more if you haven't fully realized your place as their spouse yet, using it as a chance to break you in, finally. After making sure you're too fucked out to even move from where they've left you, they'll put a leash on you if you don't already have one. They don't want you running off into the forest or, god forbid, town while you're in heat. Eden takes care of you, no one else. They're also less likely to let you leave the cabin, let alone the clearing. If your heat snuck up on you once, who's to say it won't happen again?

Kylar panics a little when you wrap yourself around them and whimper in their ear how you need them. While they're thrilled you want them, they fear anyone trying to take advantage of you when you're in such a state. Tense, gripping their knife in their pocket until they can get you somewhere safe. Goes absolutely feral the moment they get you somewhere safe, pulling at your clothes and just as needy as you. Might as well be in heat themself.

Robin is conflicted. They feel like they're taking advantage of you, but you're so clearly in pain. Takes you back to the orphanage, if you weren't already there. Tries to just give you head to satisfy you, but you need more. Robin will do everything they can to keep you satisfied.

Pure Sydney freezes. They'll...they'll help you. However they can, they'll help you. They're just panicking the entire time, afraid of doing something that hurts you, of doing something sinful. Corrupt Sydney is going a little bit feral. Takes you to the prayer room so they can go as many rounds as you need.

Whitney is having a fucking ball. Their stupid slut is in heat? Needs Whitney to fuck them better? Aw, how cute. But first, why don't you get on your knees and get them off with your mouth? Maybe then Whitney will think about helping you out. They might threaten to have their friends help you, but probably not. They're using it as a threat to get you to whine and beg for Whitney to fuck you themself.

You slink into Wren's cottage on the Remy estate and they know something is up. They might not be able to smell your heat like other hybrids, but they've always been the observant type. The fact you bypass the usual games to climb into Wren's lap, practically start grinding on their thigh, and frantically whisper in their ear how you need them clues Wren in pretty fast. Gives you a lazy grin as their hands come up to rest on your hips, helping guide you as you hump their thigh. Wren will help you with your heat, but they'll tease the hell out of you first.

[lake-cosay]

infinity train percy jackson au stuff because i'm hyperfixating

(quick disclaimer i havent read the books cause adhd but ive been digging into the story as much as i can through literally every other medium lol)

so the basics: jesse is the son of posiedon. the story would follow roughly the same plot as the first book etc, with jesse not knowing he's a demigod, shit goes down, he ends up at camp, gets a quest, etc

even though tulip fits annabeth way better than lake does, lake will take annabeth's place since yknow percy and annabeth end up together and stuff. plus i like the chemistry (i'm specfically thinking of the "you drool when you sleep" moment that's so them)

tulip sorta technically takes grover's place but she's not a satyr or protector or anything she just needs a spot in the trio and that's what's left lol. she's a daughter of hephaestus (you could argue athena for sure buuuut ive seen other ppl say hephaestus and i like that better for her, especially cause then her and lake can be twins).

some details about jesse:

nate is technically his half brother. whitney is both their moms, stephan is nate's bio dad and legal dad to both of them. i feel like their parents would at least let jesse and nate know that jesse has a different dad, but they would keep the god part to themselves to keep them safe.

so here's the backstory with whitney and poseidon (yes i thought it through this much leave me alone): whitney met poseidon when she was young and they had a thing. she knew stephan at the time, he was her closest friend but they weren't romantic. stephan supported whitney's relationship with poseidon as long as she didn't forget him, which she never did. jesse was conceived and poseidon left, as he does, but stephan was there for whitney. stephan helps raise jesse and eventually whitney falls in love (stephan had done that a while ago), and then a few years later they have nate.

jesse knows stephan isn't his bio dad but he doesn't care, they love each other just the same. it's not something a lot of people know either, it's one of the few things jesse keeps private about himself. the only people who know are immeadiate family.

so yeah, stephan and whitney don't tell the kids about the god thing to keep them safe. they're aware of CHB, and they're sure that jesse's swimming skills come from posiedon. thankfully he doesn't show any crazy powers or anything so they're not too overprotective.

upon arriving to camp, everyone's sure he's an apollo kid. the only person who isn't is lake, but that's also only because they saw him control the water. i could see jesse being put in the apollo cabin to save space in the hermes cabin despite not being claimed because they're just so sure he's apollo's son.

jesse hates fighting. he could probably be pretty decent at it if he wanted to, but he doesn't. he avoids having to learn combat as much as possible. he talks to lake about how much he hates it, and lake says he should really learn at the least the basics just for his own safety, so he agrees to let lake teach him some in private.

jesse refuses to choose a weapon, and just uses a shield and his hydrokinesis to fight but only when necessary. the shield is celestial bronze and turns into a bracelet with a charm that's a mini version of the shield.

about lake:

lake is a child of hephaestus, twin to tulip. tulip doesn't know she has a twin. lake was raised at camp and had never left, until one day, they just couldn't take it anymore and left camp. a magical deer (the yet-to-be-named alan dracula) insisted on following them, which they quickly welcomed.

lake doesn't have the usual abilities of a hephaestus kid. instead, they're more like one of his automatons, being inhumanly strong and endurant. though it doesn't look like metal, few things can truly puncture lake's skin. they've also got some pretty bad eczema and a good deal of scars, so yeah. their skin still makes them stand out.

lake especially appreciated the companionship, since once they left, they began being tailed by a monster (who's like an amalgamation of mace and sieve, haven't quite figured that part out yet).

lake wandered the country for about a month and a half, headed west. they didn't know why, they just felt compelled to head west. eventually they ended up in arizona and met jesse, and the two became friends naturally over the course of a few months.

lake had managed to throw the flec-monster off their trail for a good while, but one day, it finds them. jesse's parents hear the commotion, and upon seeing a monster, tell him to fight back. jesse doesn't know how, and lake tries to explain it to him as they realize he must be a demigod too, but lake gets knocked out. alan dracula picks up lake and urges jesse to run, and his parents tell him to follow the deer. at this point, they've realized that alan dracula had led lake to him to protect him. so jesse follows AD, and he takes them to camp half-blood.

lake isn't exactly happy to be back at CHB but that's overshadowed by them worrying about jesse. they watch over him in the infirmary.

lake grew up at camp. not quite sure how they got there, but tulip doesn't know she has a twin until she has her own little adventure where she arrives at camp aroung age 12-13. megan thinks lake (whose deadname is magnolia, maggie for short, MT for really short) is dead.

lake was probably raised by a mix of chiron, hestia, and some of the older campers when they were really young. since they're the youngest demigod the camp ever had, and since they got into so much trouble in the hermes cabin, they were moved to the big house. eventually after tulip arrived and the two of them were claimed (at the same time), they moved to the hephaestus cabin. lake honestly hates it there and wants their bed in the big house back.

lake had a habit of sneaking out of camp to explore, and because they just wanted to be able to do what they choose damnit, but never got far before being chased back in by the flec-monster. that's how they got most of the scars.

their chosen weapon is a pair of celestial bronze daggers that can turn into rings.

i really wanna do something with lake's mirror but i don't really have any ideas lol. sometimes in aus where lake's human (or in this case, part human) i just give them a birthmark on their leg or smthn, ideas are very much welcome!

now for tulip:

like i said, tulip is a daughter of hephaestus. tulip doesn't know she's a demigod until her parents take her to camp when she's about 12. they do it for her safety, and also to give her somewhere to go while they work out the divorce stuff. tulip meets lake pretty quickly and they get claimed together. tulip spends summers at camp but goes home the rest of the year.

tulip is definitely very smart and pragmatic like an athena kid, and she gets along well with just about everyone in athena's cabin. however, she doesn't like battle the way they do. she'd rather be making something than fighting. she still likes coding and brings her laptop with her to camp.

she probably made a little robot who very closely resembles one-one. he's not technically in this au but i'll give him some little cameos.

tulip attempts to bond with lake by making them cool weapons. it kinda works, but not as well as she'd hoped.

one night tulip hears lake leaving the cabin in the middle of the night. she catches up with them, and finds them all dressed and packed and equiped. she questions them, and lake just bluntly states they're leaving. tulip realizes they're serious about leaving camp. she asks them to wait and gives them some extra supplies and weapons before they leave, makes them promise not to die out there, then helps them get away from the flec-monster long enough to get headed away from camp.

tulip definitely worries about lake, mainly cause she's seen just how dangerous the flec-monster can be, but she tries to just trust lake. it's only about 6 months before lake shows back up with jesse, which is very confusing, but ultimately tulip is happy lake's back and this new kid is nice enough. a bit painfully nice, tulip takes one look at him and says he must be an apollo kid. she doesn't understand why lake is insisting he can control water. he can't be a kid of the big three, he's a dork. obviously he's not that kid from the prophecy, and lake just hit their head a little too hard when they were knocked out.

tulip has pyrokinesis, as well as the usual abilities of a hephaestus kid

her weapon is a good old sword, a special one she made that can turn into a variety of tools

a few more little things:

grace is a daughter of aphrodite who can charmspeak

simon is a son of either ares or athena, and would probably have a role very similar to luke's. i'm not gonna think about that too hard though because i have 0 interest in anything simon related lol (i also don't plan on yknow, planning out a whole plot for this so it doesnt really matter anyway)

i was thinking a lot of denizens, namely AD, the cat, atticus, tuba, etc could just be animals who were affected by the gods but i think that's kinda messy and im not gonna do that after all. but if you like the idea feel free to run w it

despite being younger and smaller lake has kicked simon's ass (in capture the flag and sparring) numerous times but simon refuses to admit it

i had a very vague idea involving medusa and reflections. that's it that's the whole idea that's all ive got

i just realized i did not think about amelia or any of the book 4 characters at all oops. sorry

i was very much inspired by these posts so check them out! also heavily inspired by the musical. i would love to know your thoughts and ideas for this because i am hyperfixating so bad lol

[r0und3bitch]

TF❤️‍🔥 California Consequences

Back in California, Y/N lived with Noah, Whitney and Jordan. While they can all collectively agree the summer preceding the current one was the best summer (or best time period in general) of their entire lives, it was also damning. To say they all took it too far would be a severe understatement. Y/N was freshly off a “break up” with Jake (lol if you can even call it that, but it was messy AF) Jordan was going through a similar situation and the pair leaned heavily into their vices, creating a world of chaos their friends couldn’t begin to imagine, to try and cope. 

They pushed their bodies and minds to the absolute limit that summer with little to no regret. Like Y/N is all to familiar with though, all good things must come to an end. 

Summer fading into fall that year turned out to be fatal. While they all eventually suffered the consequences of their actions, Y/N’s life would permanently alter forever. Not only did she have to face her father, her vices (something once fun and exciting) quickly turned on her too as her father took advantage of his daughters troubled life to the fullest, forcing her to Miami shortly after to capitalize on her talents to the fullest. 

Not being able to even remotely deal with the lasting physical and mental effects of her wild summer, Y/N’s world was ripped apart when she was forced to leave California. It left lasting imprints on her. She’s been forced to compartmentalize every single situation since that moment on, choking it all down in order to survive. She’s never even processed the effects of that summer, only pushed forward the only way she knows how: fast, decisively, harshly, unforgivingly. It hardened her tremendously and the result was her pushing away anything from her past life (her friends...) the pain of it all being far too much to bear. Whitney, Jordan and Kendall don’t handle Y/N’s and Noah’s absence well. Jordan and Whitney are all too familiar with Y/N’s coping mechanism’s and panic hard when they see the state she succumbs to shortly after arriving in Miami. That panic never leaves them, even months and months later as she distances them further. 

The sad thing is Y/N knows she’s pushing herself to the limit but doesn’t know how to stop the wheel she’s on, feeling like the Y/L/N legacy will always have that hold on her, forever. 

****insert all of the TF little snippets of Whitney calling while she’s dropping off Rafe and Kelce in part 1, Noah confronting her in part 2 about Whitney texting him...***

“Okay listen…I’m not getting into the middle of it but you know you can’t ghost people forever right?” Watch me.

FACT: Noah was never actually forced to go to Miami but refused to make Y/N go alone so he left California too, causing a different but equal kind of pain, yet through that, he never took it out on Y/N, it was his choice...

This song is Y/N following that summer as her and her friends attempt to deal with the consequences of “the best summer of their lives”...

JUTES - HERE WE GO AGAIN 

(lyrics are on fucking point for Y/N...🥺)

So I get fucked  Every time that I'm anxious  Three shots, two pills and like ten drinks  Wake up, you send "Sorry" in a mass text My friends are fed up, they wanna leave like my last ex I been doin' this for a long time Probably go again tonight I don't know how to go out when I'm not out my mind I don't got a problem but I don't make promises I don't wanna say I'm done, what if I never quit?

They say that I'm actin' different, they think I need help  I got a pill that could fix it, I'll take it myself  They said "I think that you're slippin', it's trippin' us out" Well, if that's the case, then I should probably just go

So here we go again  I'm runnin' out of friends Blame it on my vices, but they never buy it I medicate myself, it's puttin' them through hell  I've been tryna hide it but they always find it I'm tryin' my best but I do the worst  I drink to forget but it never works So here we go again  I'm runnin' out of friends  Blame it on my vices but they never buy it It's all on me

And it's not my fault that I'm fucked up  I just blame my childhood full of trauma  And I feel way too old for the drama  The only way I know to deal with it is a shotgun Runnin', runnin' from my problems But I keep 'em comin' Got a lot to run from  I'm tryin' to forget, to pass another cold one I know I'm doin' too much I know I'm doin' too much

Here we go again, yeah, it's all on me, yeah Last night was definitely my bad though, for sure