#benefit segmentation

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Sketchbook doodles with zero context, because my mind has been all over the place and he keeps inserting himself during my low moments to be a distraction. Or maybe I’m the clingy one in this scenario? I don’t know who’s to blame but clearly one of us is attention seeking and the other is desperate for human connection. A recipe for disaster probably /j

Bonus unhinged one which will not be disclosed further lmao

[semanticlp]

Zaggle Prepaid Q4 2025 Conference Call 

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[fastor7]

Benefit Segmentation | Definition, Types, & Real-World Applications

In today’s competitive market landscape, understanding consumer behavior is crucial for crafting effective marketing strategies. One powerful tool that marketers can leverage is benefit segmentation. This approach allows businesses to categorize their customers based on the specific benefits they seek from a product or service. In this blog, we will delve into the definition of benefit segmentation, explore its types, discuss its importance, and examine real-world applications across various industries.

Definition of Benefit Segmentation

Benefit segmentation is a marketing strategy that divides a target market into distinct groups based on the different benefits that consumers seek from a product or service. Unlike traditional segmentation methods that focus on demographics, geographic locations, or psychographics, benefit segmentation zeroes in on the motivations behind consumer purchases.

For instance, when consumers choose a smartphone, they may prioritize different features such as camera quality, battery life, or brand reputation. By understanding these specific needs, companies can tailor their marketing messages and product offerings to resonate with each segment.

Types of Benefit Segmentation

Benefit segmentation can be categorized into various types based on the nature of the benefits sought by consumers. Here are the primary types:

1. Functional Benefits

Functional benefits refer to the practical and utilitarian aspects of a product. These benefits answer the question, “What does the product do?” For example, consumers might choose a laundry detergent for its stain-fighting capabilities or a car for its fuel efficiency.

2. Emotional Benefits

Emotional benefits tap into the feelings and sentiments associated with a product. This type of segmentation targets consumers' desires for happiness, security, or prestige. A luxury car brand, for example, may emphasize the emotional satisfaction of owning a high-status vehicle.

3. Social Benefits

Social benefits focus on the impact of a product on an individual’s social interactions and image. Brands that highlight social benefits often appeal to consumers' desires for acceptance and belonging. For instance, fashion brands frequently market their clothing as a means to express personal style and fit in with social groups.

4. Economic Benefits

Economic benefits relate to the financial aspects of a product or service, such as cost savings or value for money. Budget-conscious consumers are often attracted to products that offer economic benefits, such as discounts or long-term savings. For example, energy-efficient appliances appeal to those looking to reduce utility bills.

Importance of Benefit Segmentation

Benefit segmentation is essential for several reasons:

Consumer-Centric Approach: By focusing on the benefits that matter most to consumers, businesses can develop marketing strategies that resonate more deeply with their target audience.

Improved Targeting: Benefit segmentation allows marketers to create tailored messages for each segment, increasing the chances of conversion.

Enhanced Product Development: Understanding the specific benefits sought by different consumer groups can inform product development, ensuring that new offerings meet market demands.

Competitive Advantage: Companies that effectively implement benefit segmentation can differentiate themselves from competitors by addressing unmet needs in the market.

Real-World Applications of Benefit Segmentation

Benefit segmentation has been successfully applied in various industries. Here are some notable examples:

1. Technology Sector

Apple Inc. is renowned for its ability to create products that cater to diverse consumer needs. By segmenting its market based on functional and emotional benefits, Apple positions its products as high-quality, innovative solutions that evoke a sense of status and lifestyle. Their marketing campaigns often highlight the unique benefits of features like camera quality and user experience, appealing to tech-savvy consumers who prioritize these aspects.

2. Food and Beverage Industry

Coca-Cola uses benefit segmentation to target different consumer groups effectively. For health-conscious consumers, Coca-Cola offers low-calorie options such as Diet Coke and Coca-Cola Zero, emphasizing the functional benefit of healthier choices. Simultaneously, they market regular Coca-Cola as a social beverage that enhances shared experiences, tapping into emotional and social benefits.

3. Automotive Industry

Toyota leverages benefit segmentation by offering different models that cater to varying consumer needs. The Prius, for instance, is marketed primarily for its economic benefits, targeting environmentally conscious consumers looking to save on fuel costs. Meanwhile, the Toyota Camry appeals to consumers seeking functional and emotional benefits, such as reliability and comfort.

4. Retail Industry

Amazon utilizes benefit segmentation by offering a wide range of products that cater to diverse consumer needs. Through targeted marketing campaigns, Amazon promotes its Prime membership as a means to achieve economic benefits (free shipping and discounts) while also highlighting the functional benefits of convenience and speed in shopping.

How to Implement Benefit Segmentation

Implementing benefit segmentation requires a systematic approach. Here are the steps to effectively adopt this strategy:

1. Conduct Market Research

Use surveys, focus groups, and interviews to gather insights about consumer preferences and the benefits they seek.

2. Analyze Consumer Behavior

Study purchasing patterns and behaviors to identify which benefits drive consumer decisions.

3. Create Segments

Based on the insights gathered, create distinct segments that represent different consumer needs and benefits.

4. Tailor Marketing Strategies

Develop targeted marketing campaigns and product offerings for each segment. This includes crafting personalized messages that resonate with the specific benefits each segment values.

5. Monitor and Adjust

Continuously monitor the effectiveness of your segmentation strategy and be ready to adjust based on market changes and consumer feedback.

Challenges in Benefit Segmentation

While benefit segmentation offers numerous advantages, it also presents certain challenges:

1. Data Collection

Gathering accurate and comprehensive data on consumer preferences can be difficult, especially for larger markets.

2. Overlapping Segments

Some consumers may fit into multiple segments, making it challenging to target them effectively without diluting the message.

3. Changing Consumer Preferences

Consumer needs and preferences can shift over time, requiring ongoing research and adaptation of segmentation strategies.

Conclusion

Benefit segmentation is a powerful marketing tool that enables businesses to understand their customers on a deeper level. By identifying the specific benefits sought by different consumer groups, companies can tailor their marketing strategies to meet these needs effectively. From technology giants like Apple to everyday brands like Coca-Cola, the real-world applications of benefit segmentation are vast and varied.

As you consider how to implement benefit segmentation in your own marketing efforts, remember the importance of ongoing research and adaptability to ensure that your strategies remain relevant in a dynamic marketplace.

Call to Action

Have you implemented benefit segmentation in your marketing strategies? Share your experiences or thoughts on how benefit segmentation has shaped your approach to understanding consumer needs!

This blog post incorporates all the key points discussed and is designed to be engaging and informative. Feel free to modify any sections to better match your voice or style!

Source: https://fastor7.com/blogs/benefit-segmentation 

[slightlytoastedbagel]

happy because kiddo IchiHona sad because we're never getting kiddo Kohane are we

[fungh0u1]

https://mangadex.org/title/8e0c90df-375c-43dc-bfb6-345451629f4d/double-house

scrolling gl by year on mangadex. i really enjoyed this one

[mari-beau]

Does anyone else vehemently hate their local tv "news" outlet?

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Knowing About Sports Drinks Before Consuming Them

Sports drinks can help you a great deal in keeping yourself hydrated when working out. sports drink was introduced in 1965. Gatorade was developed and tested it on a football team. Since then, sports drinks have become a commonality among athletes all over the world.  What Exactly are Sports Drinks? They are a beverage which can replenish some nutrients lost during exercise. They do not contain…

[raining-anonymously]

something about mouthwashing that has always bothered me is the cake-baking scene. where the game’s dialogue is usually very realistic, this scene feels… weird. the dialogue is unnatural and too video-gamey. anya, swansea, and jimmy are telling curly things he should already know for the player’s benefit, such as the backstory for the communal birthday parties and how to bake the cake. it’s strange. but i think i’ve finally figured it out!

We start with Daisuke. “Look at your face!” suggests that Curly’s reaction to being surprise-birthday’d was an expression of shock. This is supported by Jimmy later apologizing to Curly for jumping him like that.

Back to the present. Curly, who tends to use fewer filler words comparatively, uses the word “uh” twice in two lines. “Uh. Wow,” followed by:

I wanna talk about this question for a minute. Let’s look at the scene. Curly can see the birthday party decorations from his position. Curly knows the approximate date off the top of his head, according to the dead pixel scene, so he should know it’s around his birthday. Curly has also undoubtedly experienced many Pony Express birthday parties before. All this to say, why the hell is he asking what the occasion is? It should be pretty obvious, no?

The answer is dissociation.

We know from Curly’s POV introduction that he spaces out in conversation, and that Anya is aware of this. This lasts to the point where he’s staring off at nothing until Anya asks if he’s listening.

He also appears to dissociate during his conversation with Jimmy before the crash: he stops talking completely until prompted by Jimmy to respond and doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening (Jimmy tells him everyone on the ship should die and Curly seemingly agrees, only to very clearly be upset and in shock when Jimmy goes and makes this happen).

Now, Jimmy, Anya, and Swansea have known Curly for years. Seems pretty reasonable that they would be able to recognize signs of his dissociation, yeah? And they do.

Again, these are things that Curly should absolutely know. I believe Anya and Jimmy saw the facial expression that Daisuke referred to and noticed Curly’s inexplicable confusion and realized he was dissociating. They then informed him of the details of the situation while posing it as a question, likely in an attempt to ground him. Anya ends her information with “right?” while Jimmy ends his with “remember?” This allows them to give Curly the information he isn’t grasping in a gentle way that doesn’t call attention to the fact that this is something he should already know.

Anya then gives him more direct instruction by telling him where the cake recipe is (again, a thing he should absolutely know considering he eats in that kitchen every day) and lightly tells him to go make it. She’s guiding him to a task that he would ordinarily be able to complete on his own because she can tell that he’s unsure and out of it.

Swansea—who, while not as close to Curly as Jimmy and not as attentive to the crew’s mental wellbeing as Anya, has known the captain for years— does the same thing, more directly. He asks Curly about the cake recipe and tells him where to find the ingredients and recipe. Again, Curly should absolutely know this already, but for some reason he isn’t doing it on his own.

From the crew’s perspective, if you as Curly choose to engage in this optional dialogue, Anya and Jimmy told Curly to go make the cake, and instead of doing that Curly wandered quietly around the lounge. Brought on, probably, by this dissociative episode. So Swansea reminds Curly what he’s supposed to be doing and where to go to do it.

(While Jimmy and Anya are consistently shown to be in tune to Curly’s emotions (Jimmy moreso pre-crash), Swansea typically is not; however, he’s standing near Anya during this segment, meaning she had the opportunity to tell him what she’d noticed.)

Now, an interesting thing about Curly’s optional conversations with the rest of the crew here: He doesn’t say anything during them. This is a little odd, considering Curly is a fairly social character. He does have other optional interactions where he doesn’t respond, but those are typically after he’s just had a back-and-forth with the other person or where you’re able to respond nonverbally (such as closing/opening the door to Utility when Jimmy jokes about it). But for the most part, Curly does respond to what others say.

Not here, though. He can drift between Daisuke, Anya and Swansea, and Jimmy, but he doesn’t say a word apart from when Jimmy notices his silence and prompts him to speak.

Even then, he just agrees with Jimmy without any indication that he processed what Jimmy said. If you go for Jimmy’s second optional dialogue, Curly once again has no response.

All this to say—

This post was not made to demonstrate any overarching story element. Honestly, I kinda thought I was stringing conclusions together. But now that it’s all down? It… kinda makes sense. This is consistent with Curly’s character, with Anya’s and Jimmy’s dynamics with Curly, and with the typically excellent, human, non-meta dialogue Mouthwashing utilizes in all other scenes.

It works down to the little details, such as Daisuke being the only one who doesn’t have weird dialogue here; he’s only known Curly a few months and is probably less in tune to the captain’s mannerisms. (Plus the crew tends not to tell him about anything serious.) Furthermore, dissociation can be caused by stress, and Curly is VERY stressed in this scene, preoccupied as he is with needing to tell the crew about the termination. His flavor text during this scene demonstrates that pretty well; his flavor text is much more cynical than his norm and often leads to him thinking about the termination rather than what he’s supposed to be doing.

Is there a possibility that I’m completely wrong? Of course. But I finally have a plausible explanation for something that has been bugging me for months, so I’m satisfied.

hope you enjoyed today’s episode of MOUTHWASHING THEORY TO FILL A PLOT HOLE THAT NO ONE EXCEPT MY PEDANTIC ASS THINKS ABOUT <3

If I said anything wrong re: dissociation or if you have another Watsonian explanation for why this scene is written so oddly, please do feel free to share!

[shreywebs1]

Boost Campaign Effectiveness with Smarter Customer Insights

Want to improve your marketing results and maximize ROI? This insightful blog explores how targeting customers based on the specific value they seek can lead to more effective campaigns. Learn how benefit segmentation helps businesses craft personalized strategies, increase engagement, and drive meaningful conversions across various channels.

[capitalism-is-a-psychopathy]

Billionaires destroy more than they create

In a land often championed for its economic opportunity and equality, the American Dream promises that anyone who works hard can rise to prosperity. But for many in today’s middle and lower economic classes, that dream is fading, shadowed by a reality that feels increasingly rigged. At the heart of this issue lies a stark and glaring imbalance: billionaires, a minuscule fraction of the population, wield a staggering concentration of wealth and influence. This is not just an issue of economics but one that touches the foundations of democracy and fairness.

Imagine the economy as a massive machine, built to churn wealth throughout society. In an ideal world, this wealth would cycle effectively, where each part contributes and benefits in turn. But as billionaires amass wealth at unprecedented levels, this machine has come to function more like a funnel, siphoning resources from the broader society and concentrating them at the very top. This dynamic, driven by complex financial structures and tax strategies, isn’t merely an accumulation of personal fortunes but a systematic extraction from the economic potential of others. The capital that could have flowed through wages, education, and public infrastructure is often diverted into private bank accounts and shell companies, rarely benefiting the people who drive and build the economy day by day.

As wealth accumulates at the top, so too does political influence. Billionaires, with vast financial resources, can fund political campaigns, lobbyists, and entire networks of think tanks dedicated to shaping policy. Through these channels, they push for tax policies, regulations, and trade agreements that benefit the ultra-wealthy at the expense of middle- and lower-income families. Politicians, indebted to these donors, increasingly look to billionaire interests rather than to constituents’ needs. This creates a disturbing feedback loop: billionaires influence politics to further policies that reinforce their own wealth and power, leaving the broader populace with dwindling opportunities to influence their own government.

This concentrated power extends far beyond campaign finance and lobbying. With ownership over significant segments of media networks, billionaires control the narratives that millions consume daily. Through these media outlets, they shape public opinion, diverting attention from policies that would challenge wealth accumulation and pushing narratives that frame the ultra-wealthy as essential “job creators” or “innovators” rather than acknowledging their role in widening economic divides. Issues that might threaten their economic stranglehold are often buried, while others, that create division and distract, are amplified.

For the middle and lower classes, this confluence of wealth, media, and political power has a real impact. Stagnant wages, diminishing job security, and rising costs of living aren’t natural outcomes of a complex economy—they’re symptoms of a system shaped to benefit those at the top. Policies that could lift working-class Americans, like raising the minimum wage, universal healthcare, or better labor protections, are often stifled in legislative deadlock, thanks in part to the political influence of the ultra-wealthy who stand to lose from them.

So, as this cycle continues, the gap between billionaires and everyone else widens. The billions accumulated at the top no longer signify mere success but a barrier to mobility for everyone else. The middle and lower classes find themselves carrying the economic burdens, often working harder for less. Meanwhile, billionaires remain insulated, living in a different economic reality, one far removed from the struggles of the average American. This isn’t just an economic imbalance but a distortion of democracy itself, as the machinery of power and influence is pulled further from the reach of ordinary citizens and held more tightly by those whose interests rarely align with theirs.

Without addressing this imbalance, the promise of opportunity, the cornerstone of the American Dream, becomes less attainable with each passing year, not just for the lower and middle classes but for the nation’s future as a whole.

Addressing their manipulation

Billionaires and their advocates often employ a familiar set of narratives to justify their wealth and the structures that enable it. These arguments, framed in terms of the free market, capitalism, or fear of socialism, are not only misleading but often serve to distract from the deeper systemic issues at play. Below is a breakdown of these claims and the counterarguments that expose their flaws:

1. “It’s Just the Free Market at Work”

The myth of the “free market” implies that billionaires achieve their wealth purely through talent, innovation, and competition in a market where everyone has equal opportunity. But in reality, the U.S. economy is far from a genuinely “free” market.

Counterpoints:

• Government Subsidies and Tax Breaks: Many billionaires’ businesses rely heavily on taxpayer-funded subsidies, special tax breaks, and other forms of government assistance. Large corporations frequently lobby for policies that grant them tax advantages, including offshore loopholes and capital gains tax breaks. This creates an environment where they aren’t competing on equal ground but rather with significant state support, distorting the market in their favor.

• Anti-Competitive Practices: Many large corporations, especially in tech and finance, engage in monopolistic behavior, buying out competitors or using aggressive tactics to drive them out of the market. This concentration of power stifles competition, contradicting the notion of a “free” market where anyone can succeed if they work hard.

• Inherited Wealth and Privilege: A significant portion of billionaire wealth is inherited rather than self-made. Generational wealth compounds, giving the ultra-wealthy an enormous head start over those without similar family resources. This challenges the idea that wealth accumulation is simply the product of individual merit or a fair market.

2. “This Is What Capitalism Is Supposed to Look Like”

The argument here suggests that capitalism is an inherently competitive system, where the most successful rise to the top, benefiting everyone through innovation and job creation. This narrative hinges on the idea of “trickle-down economics,” where the wealth of the richest eventually spreads throughout society.

Counterpoints:

• Trickle-Down Economics Doesn’t Work: Decades of evidence show that wealth rarely “trickles down” to the rest of society in any meaningful way. Income inequality has only widened, with wages stagnating for most workers while billionaire wealth has soared. Billionaires tend to reinvest wealth in ways that concentrate their holdings, like in stocks, rather than in ways that benefit the broader economy.

• Wealth Extraction, Not Wealth Creation: Many billionaires achieve and maintain their fortunes through rent-seeking behavior—extracting wealth from existing resources rather than creating new value. Hedge funds, private equity, and real estate empires often profit by cutting costs (like labor) rather than by innovating or producing new goods and services. This dynamic benefits investors but hurts workers and consumers.

• Capitalism Can Take Other Forms: The capitalism practiced in the U.S. today, sometimes called “neoliberal capitalism,” focuses on minimal regulation, tax cuts for the wealthy, and privatization. However, other countries demonstrate that capitalism can function with stronger social safety nets, wealth redistribution policies, and tighter regulations on corporate power. Nordic countries, for example, balance capitalism with robust welfare systems, ensuring a more equitable distribution of wealth and services.

3. “Without Billionaires, There Would Be No Innovation or Job Creation”

A popular myth is that billionaires are essential “job creators” and “innovators” whose wealth ultimately benefits society by funding new businesses and creating employment. This claim positions billionaires as indispensable to economic growth.

Counterpoints:

• Public Funding Fuels Innovation: Many of the biggest technological advances, including the internet, GPS, and medical breakthroughs, were developed with public funding rather than billionaire investments. Government research grants and subsidies often lay the groundwork for major innovations that billionaires later profit from. In other words, society bears much of the financial risk, while billionaires reap the rewards.

• Small Businesses Create Most Jobs: Small businesses, not billionaires or large corporations, are responsible for most job creation in the United States. Big corporations often eliminate jobs through automation, outsourcing, or consolidation. They may employ a large workforce, but they also tend to exploit workers through low wages, precarious employment, and cost-cutting measures.

• Billionaires Accumulate Wealth Through Wealth, Not Innovation: Many billionaires maintain their wealth not by creating jobs or innovating but by using their existing capital to generate more wealth, often through financial instruments that have little to do with actual economic productivity. Stock buybacks, dividends, and passive investments grow their fortunes without necessarily contributing to broader economic prosperity.

4. “Any Alternative Is Socialism or Communism”

When calls arise for higher taxes on the wealthy, stricter regulations, or broader social programs, the response is often to invoke the fear of “socialism” or “communism.” This argument seeks to paint any attempt at wealth redistribution or regulation as a slippery slope toward total government control.

Counterpoints:

• Social Safety Nets and Regulations Are Not Socialism: Social safety nets, progressive taxation, and regulations do not equate to socialism or communism; they’re features of a balanced capitalist system that seeks to prevent extreme inequality and protect public welfare. Countries like Germany, Canada, and Denmark combine regulated capitalism with strong social programs, resulting in healthier economies and greater well-being for citizens without abandoning capitalism.

• Inequality Threatens Capitalism: Growing inequality and economic instability can undermine the foundations of capitalism. A healthy capitalist economy requires a strong middle class with buying power, which excessive wealth concentration undermines. Reforms like progressive taxation, labor protections, and universal healthcare aren’t a rejection of capitalism but rather a means of stabilizing it.

• Historical Success of Mixed Economies: Many of the most successful and prosperous countries practice a mixed economy, where capitalism coexists with social policies that promote equality. The U.S. itself has employed a mixed economy model in the past, particularly after the New Deal, which implemented social safety nets, labor protections, and financial regulations that led to a period of unprecedented growth and prosperity for the middle class.

5. “They Earned It Fair and Square”

Finally, the idea persists that billionaires deserve their wealth because they “earned” it. This argument suggests that any policy aiming to redistribute wealth is fundamentally unfair, penalizing those who worked hard to succeed.

Counterpoints:

• Systemic Advantages and Wealth Hoarding: As previously mentioned, many billionaires begin with advantages—like family wealth or elite educational opportunities—that aren’t available to most people. Additionally, billionaires often employ complex strategies to avoid taxes, lobby for favorable regulations, and capitalize on government subsidies. These factors mean they haven’t earned wealth solely through hard work or merit.

• Billionaires Didn’t Build Alone: No billionaire operates in isolation; they rely on infrastructure, public education, and the work of thousands or millions of employees. A CEO’s wealth is made possible by a web of collective contributions, yet that wealth is rarely shared equitably. While billionaires might be rewarded for their role, their fortune is far from the result of individual effort alone.

In short, these narratives around billionaires often mask a more uncomfortable truth: today’s system is structured in ways that favor the ultra-wealthy at the expense of the broader population. Economic reform, rather than a threat to capitalism, is a necessary step to ensure a more just, equitable society where wealth accumulation doesn’t depend on privilege, influence, or systemic manipulation.

Making a change

Addressing the economic imbalance and the unchecked power of the ultra-wealthy presents a unique challenge, especially given the intense political polarization in the United States. For the middle and lower classes to push back effectively, they will need to build a coalition that transcends party lines and focuses on shared economic interests rather than divisive rhetoric.

1. Build Awareness Through Shared Issues, Not Ideology

The rhetoric around “free markets” and “socialism” often obscures real issues of economic struggle that affect both conservative and progressive working- and middle-class citizens alike. Instead of framing the issue in ideological terms, framing it in terms of tangible, shared grievances can help bridge the divide:

• Focus on Economic Inequality: Income stagnation, unaffordable healthcare, and housing insecurity are felt across the political spectrum. By shifting the narrative from “class warfare” to “economic fairness,” advocates can sidestep partisan language and emphasize the shared experience of economic struggle.

• Highlight the Impact of Corporate Power on Local Communities: Framing issues around how large corporations hurt small, local businesses can resonate strongly with both sides of the political spectrum. This approach often taps into conservative values around community and self-reliance, while also aligning with progressive critiques of corporate overreach.

2. Organize Around Labor Rights and Worker Protections

Historically, unions have been instrumental in improving working conditions and advocating for fair wages, and labor movements transcend political divisions. Many Americans—left, right, and center—share concerns about the erosion of workers’ rights, stagnant wages, and the declining influence of the average worker.

• Expand Union Participation and Labor Movements: Reinvigorating unions and expanding labor protections could give workers a stronger collective voice. New labor movements that focus on economic rights without overtly partisan language could attract support across the political spectrum, particularly when they champion issues like fair wages, workplace safety, and job security.

• Support Worker Cooperatives and Employee-Owned Businesses: Promoting models like worker cooperatives or employee-owned businesses can offer a compelling alternative to the current structure of corporate ownership without resorting to divisive rhetoric. These models prioritize local control and shared economic benefits, appealing to values of self-sufficiency and fairness.

3. Pressure Politicians on Key Economic Policies

A key to bridging the partisan gap is to focus on policies that benefit the broader populace rather than framing them as part of any ideological agenda. The majority of Americans, regardless of political affiliation, support policies like fair taxation, healthcare reform, and increased access to education when framed in terms of fairness and opportunity.

• Promote Tax Reform as “Fairness,” Not Redistribution: Instead of advocating for “redistribution,” proponents can push for tax policies that ensure everyone pays their fair share. Policies like a wealth tax or higher taxes on capital gains can be framed as holding the ultra-wealthy accountable rather than demonizing them, a stance that resonates with people who value fairness and personal responsibility.

• Advocate for Antitrust Legislation: Pushing for stronger antitrust laws to break up monopolies and prevent anti-competitive practices can appeal to both sides. For conservatives, this aligns with the values of market competition; for progressives, it aligns with corporate accountability and consumer protection.

4. Engage in Alternative Media and Independent Journalism

The ultra-wealthy often own or influence major media outlets, which can shape public opinion in ways that protect their interests. For the middle and lower classes to gain a clearer view of economic issues, alternative media sources and independent journalism that aren’t beholden to billionaire interests are crucial.

• Support Independent News Outlets: A growing number of independent news organizations are dedicated to in-depth economic reporting without catering to corporate interests. Supporting these outlets allows individuals to access a range of perspectives that help reveal the true impact of policies on ordinary people.

• Utilize Social Media Responsibly to Build Cross-Party Awareness: Social media, while often a divisive force, can also be used to spread information about economic injustice. When used responsibly to share facts, case studies, and stories of economic hardship, it can cut through the rhetoric and provide people across the political spectrum with a shared understanding of the issues.

5. Prioritize Voting Reform and Campaign Finance Reform

Money in politics is one of the core reasons why economic policies favor the wealthy. Bipartisan support for reducing corporate influence in politics is possible, especially when the focus is on fairness, transparency, and accountability in government.

• Promote Campaign Finance Reform as an Anti-Corruption Effort: Campaign finance reform, which seeks to limit the influence of wealthy donors and corporations on elections, can appeal to conservatives and liberals alike who are frustrated with the influence of money in politics. Instead of framing it as an anti-capitalist measure, framing it as an anti-corruption measure can attract broader support.

• Support Voting Reforms for a More Representative Democracy: Reforms like ranked-choice voting, ending gerrymandering, and preventing voter suppression can help create a political environment that more accurately represents the will of the people rather than special interests. By creating a more representative democracy, policies that reflect the economic needs of the middle and lower classes have a better chance of being enacted.

6. Create Cross-Partisan Grassroots Coalitions Focused on Economic Issues

Many grassroots organizations are focused on economic justice, but they tend to align themselves with one side of the political spectrum, often losing potential support in the process. Building cross-partisan coalitions that emphasize shared economic challenges rather than ideological differences could foster stronger, more united advocacy for middle- and working-class issues.

• Organize Around Issues, Not Parties: Groups like the Poor People’s Campaign, which focuses on poverty and economic justice, have successfully united people across political lines around issues that transcend party loyalty. This approach allows people to focus on their shared struggles, making the movement harder for politicians to ignore.

• Build Community-Level Alliances: Many economic issues are felt acutely at the local level. By focusing on community-level initiatives that address healthcare, affordable housing, and education, people can create practical, on-the-ground solutions that don’t require alignment with national politics. These local successes can serve as models for broader change.

7. Emphasize Civic Education on Economic Policies

Finally, bridging the gap will require education and awareness. Many people accept billionaire-fueled rhetoric because they lack exposure to alternative perspectives. Civic education efforts that focus on teaching economic principles, tax policy, and the influence of corporate power can empower people to understand the real impacts of current policies on their lives.

• Create Accessible Educational Resources: Podcasts, documentaries, workshops, and community discussions can all serve as tools for demystifying economic issues. When people have a clearer understanding of how things like tax policies and wage laws work, they are better equipped to make informed decisions.

• Promote Financial Literacy and Empower Individuals: Financial literacy programs that help individuals understand budgeting, credit, and investments empower people to navigate the economy more effectively. While this doesn’t directly address systemic issues, it gives individuals a greater understanding of the forces shaping their lives and can be a first step toward broader engagement.

By approaching these issues with a focus on shared struggles, fairness, and practical solutions, the middle and lower classes can work together to build a movement that transcends political divides. This movement can challenge the status quo without becoming mired in divisive ideological battles. The real strength of such an effort lies in its ability to unite ordinary people around a common vision for a fairer, more just economic system—one that serves all citizens, not just the wealthiest few.

[grudgecollector]

hii queen! i saw that your requests are open, could you write something with daryl and a reader in the earlier seasons who are dating in secret? (they dont want no one to know because daryl is new to relationships and i believe he would be more reserved a little in the beggining), however the group ended up noticing how soft he is to her and how he always keep an eye on her😩 and also i just wanted to say that i read some of yours writtings and they are amazing💕💕

Gimme Shelter | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Tags: Swearing, twd typical violence, kind of slow burn, fluff, lightish angst, half proof-read

Words: 4.4k

A/N: Fank you so much nonny 💖😭 I've been really enjoying writing for Daryl, he was one of my biggest obsessions as a teenager, and that obsession will continue to prevail.

And this is such a cute request, I love secret relationship tropes so much. I decided to do Prison era!Daryl if that's okay, I assume you probably meant for like season 1 or 2, but I felt like it would be cute in the prison.

I know that a slow burn wasn't requested BUT the thoughts just kept coming the more I wrote. Also sorry this took so long to post.

Growing up people would always say you will find the one when you least expect it. Whether it’s in a grocery store, at the park, in a museum. That one person you’re bound to spend the rest of your life with will be there. As if they were waiting for you, and you for them. It was a fairytale dream, one that you lost faith in long ago. 

There were moments you had thought that maybe you finally found that person. Until disappointment would strike time and time again. Your experience with relationships had been less than ideal, never lasting longer than a year. Cheaters, liars, and worst of all abusers. Those types of men had always been the most drawn to you. Making you feel as if you were cursed somehow, unlucky. 

After a while and a slew of pity attempts, you gave up on dating for your own benefit. Deciding it would be best to focus more on yourself. Not allowing yourself to succumb to the societal pressure of getting married by twenty and popping kids out by twenty one. 

That was the dream of a delusional small town teenager, too young to think for themselves let alone plan a future family, and that had been your dream once upon a time. Maybe you read too many stories about young girls finding their prince charming and living happily ever after.

You started to value your alone time. Enjoying the feeling of not having to walk on eggshells in order to keep the other party happy. Things were smooth sailing for about two years. You changed your life around, got a new job, a new car, and a new apartment all within a few months. 

A newfound happiness was settling inside of you, you were beginning to find yourself again. You became more confident in who you were as a person, allowing yourself to actually live your life instead of just simply being alive. 

But life had a twisted sense of humor. 

Things started with frantic breaking news segments on the news. Reporters talking about the horrifying developments coming out of France. In the beginning you had hoped that things wouldn’t escalate past that, hoped that this would be an isolated incident. But things just got worse the more you watched. An unknown virus wreaking havoc across the entirety of Europe, spreading like wildfire across each country. 

After the first case of the virus was reported in Ohio, you started to worry. Things were getting too close for your liking, and with the details they were releasing it wasn’t going to get any better. With each new segment that aired your mother would call, urgently telling you to come back to live with them until this sickness blows over. You knew that it would be your best bet. 

Once the local grocery stores started getting raided, you found yourself being thankful that your family was full of survivalist nuts. Growing up hearing them praise people like Jim Baker, and other televangelist hackjobs like him that weaponized fear mongering for profit. 

Your parents home was stocked full of all the essentials thanks to your aunt Jess. First aid kits, canned food, water to last just a little over a month. It was everything you needed and more. 

“Y’always gotta be prepared, honey.” Your wine-drunk aunt had told you after a week, the both of you lounging on the sofa as you watched the news. “You don’t know how long this crap’s gonna last.” 

It all went by so quickly. The news stations eventually stopped airing not long after the first report hit Georgia, they were urging everyone to evacuate to Atlanta, leaving the streets a mess of honking and dead-stop traffic right outside of your parent’s home. 

And for a short while you had settled into this false hope that you were safe there with them. 

That was until you came back from a short trip to a ransacked Dollar General just down the street. 

The house was oddly quiet when you walked inside. The TV was muted on a flickering static screen, your dad’s recliner was empty, a blanket on the floor. The backdoor that led to the porch was ajar, the sun shining through the crack onto the wood flooring. You remembered that feeling in your stomach as you walked closer, fingers slowly curling around the doorknob. 

When you walked outside it felt as if a bucket of ice water was dumped over your head. The horrifying sight of your mother’s body being gutted by your own father and uncle, fresh blood dripped down the side of the RV next to your aunt’s already mangled corpse. Your hands were trembling fiercely, a nauseating coppery smell filling your nose. 

All you could remember was running. Packing whatever you could get your hands on before taking your mother’s minivan.  

Not long after the death of your family, you were taken in by a small group of five. They were unstable, barely hanging on by a thread, with almost nightly arguments tilting them further over the edge. 

It made things harder for you. The tension starting to make you too nervous to sleep without a knife tucked securely under your pillow. 

The self appointed leader demanded too much, wanting more than half of the rations to himself. He was a cruel hearted individual, mind diluted by the atrocities you were all forced to witness. A dangerous man who was quick tempered, and ruthless to anything or anybody you came across. 

After a month of running with them you made a mistake. You hid a portion of your findings from him. Food that he would have taken the majority of. But you were starving, at the point of hardly caring about your survival if it meant you could eat just a little bit more.

Other members had found out though, outing you quickly. As a punishment he tied you up, stole everything from you. Photo albums, your weapons, your food, bandages, it didn’t matter what it was. After beating you he left you in the supply closet of a convenient store you were temporarily camping out in. 

Part of you half expected them to come back, but you knew better than to think positively now, that could get you killed nowadays. 

The minutes blended into hours into what felt like days. The zip ties around your wrists and ankles dug harshly into your skin, biting into the raw bleeding flesh as you struggled to free yourself. Eventually it got to the point where you started slipping in and out of consciousness, your body exhausted and dehydrated. You were sure you would die there. 

But, much to your surprise, your luck hadn’t run dry just yet. 

In your haze you could hear the sound of once shuffling corpses hit against the door with a heavy thud. Hushed voices barely graced your ears through the door, two men talking to each other. 

Your voice was hoarse as you pathetically attempted to call out. Your throat was dry from the lack of water, forcing your words to come out as a croaking squeak.  

The door had been opened cautiously, the beam of a flashlight assaulting your eyes. You attempted to focus on the man crouching down above you, his blurred features obscured by the baseball hat he wore. 

“Rick!” The man called over his shoulder, another figure coming into view. He was wearing what seemed to be a police officer’s uniform. Whether it was stolen or actually his, you didn’t care, you just wanted out of this damn closet. 

Both men were quick to cut your binds and hauled you to your feet. The quick motion was all it took for you to finally pass out. A thick blanket of exhaustion pressed into you, forcing your eyes to flutter closed and your body to go completely limp. Unable to cling onto consciousness any longer

In those last moments you almost thought that they would just leave you there. Not wanting to bother helping a now passed out stranger, and you wouldn’t have blamed them if they did abandon you. 

Instead when you woke up you were laying on a couch, an older man with short white hair standing over you. 

At first you had almost believed you dreamed it all, the outbreak, the group. That you were in some sort of comatose state and the world was not overrun by flesh eating monsters. But the stinging pain deep within your wrists proved otherwise, the gashes covered by white gauze and medical tape. 

The white haired man, Hershel, ran you through your current state. Malnourishment, dehydration, feverish temperatures. It was evidently clear that you had been through the wringer, and if Glenn and Rick had not found you when they did, you would have died within the day. In fact he had said it was a miracle that Hershel himself could have saved you. 

You figured you had always been stubborn, though, you never gave up easily. 

Hershel had been kind enough to allow you to stay in his house until you got better. Providing you with enough water and food to get you back on your feet. 

The family allowed you to use their shower. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you understood why they were so insistent. A thick layer of grime and blood coated your skin, your hair was matted, your clothes ripped beyond repair. 

You couldn’t help but cry, realizing just how quickly you lost yourself out there. Your humanity has faded so much in such a short amount of time, leaving you a hollow shell of your former self. You looked like a stranger to yourself.

Over the next week Rick’s group urged you to stay. They knew you had nowhere else to go, no family to run back to. 

You were hesitant, though. You didn’t want to continue to be a burden, you were a stranger infiltrating an already close knit group. The closeness they had made you feel even more lonely than you did in your previous group, because at least when it came to them, you didn’t crave that companionship. 

Gone were the days of blind trust, knowing that everything always came with a price these days. So your knife stayed tucked beneath your pillow, fingers clutching onto the handle as you kept an eye on the zipped up entrance of the tent. 

On many sleepless nights, which were frequent, you would sit yourself in front of the dwindling fire outside of your tent. Mind wandering to everything that’s happened to you in the past three months, the things you’ve done to stay alive, the permanent scars you would carry with you for life. 

You stewed in your bitterness. Chewing ruthlessly on the skin around your fingernails. 

Your tent was further away from the rest of the group’s, tucked away in your own area. You found yourself watching the rest of them at first. Thoughts of running away while everyone slept crossed your mind more times than you could count. 

Until one night you heard a twig snap behind you, your knife quickly unsheathed and pointing towards what you thought to be a threat, 

“Geez. You’re almost as bad as Daryl.” One of the older men from Rick’s group, Dale, chuckled as he walked closer to your secluded camp, his hands up in surrender. “But I can go if you want.” He smiled softly. 

“Sorry… Bad habit.” You said quietly, setting your knife back down next to your thigh. 

He shook his head, taking a seat in front of the fire, “No need to be sorry. I can’t blame you for still being a little paranoid.” 

Dale quickly became a source of comfort for you, sporting an almost fatherly personality when talking to you. He was kind, and realistic which was exactly what you needed after everything you’ve been through. Over the course of a few nightly visits he was able to get you to open up a little, telling him about your former group, he was sympathetic and understanding. 

“The world has truly gone to hell.” He grimaced, taking his bucket hat off of his head. “But, we have good people here. Believe it or not.” His smile was reassuring. 

After a few days you started to come around more. Helping the women with laundry, listening to the stories they told about their lives before, anecdotes to keep themselves sane. 

It wasn’t hard to understand why they were so close. The tragedy of their former camp just outside of Atlanta, the C.D.C, Lori’s son getting shot, the people they’ve lost along the way. 

Slowly you felt more like yourself again.

Every so often they would mention that same name Dale did, Daryl. The only member of the group you had yet to meet personally. 

You had seen him walking around the camp, or tucked away in his own tent, further away from the group much like yours was. He was gruff looking, intimidating to the eye, and his occasional temper didn’t help much. But with how insistent he was on finding Carol’s missing daughter, you could tell there was warmth beneath his rigid exterior. 

The first time you talked to him was less than ideal. You were attempting to set up a snare trap in the woods, wanting to try and contribute a little bit more. The frustration quickly turned to embarrassment when he snuck up on you. Your feet got caught in your own trap and caused you to trip and fall. 

“Looks like y’caught somethin’.” Daryl attempted to joke, walking past you and deeper into the woods with his crossbow pointed towards the trees. 

You cut yourself free of the poorly made snare and ran to catch up with him. Choosing your words carefully. 

“Daryl, right?” All you got was a grumble in response, “Listen I know you don’t know me or anythin’... But could you teach me how to hunt?” 

“Teach yourself. I ain’t got time for babysittin’.” His response stung a little, harsher than you had hoped it would be. 

You figured you should have expected that, though, the conversation him and Shane had this morning was heated. An argument almost leading to a full on fight. The tension was growing higher and higher as the days dragged on with no signs of Sophia. 

Then the group found out about what was inside the barn.

One day when Rick was out helping Hershel, Shane took it upon himself to break the chains on the barn door. Walker after walker spilled out, being shot down ruthlessly by some members of Rick’s group, while the Greene family cried out for them to stop. Their worst nightmare coming true, as well as Carol’s. 

A little girl limped out, skin grey and beginning to rot. Her hair was matted with leaves, eyes a milky grey color, and a rasping snarl emitting from her. There was a large gash on her shoulder, a bite. It was devastating to see a child fall victim to such a death. But even more so for Carol, coming to realize that each day they restlessly searched, she had already been dead.. 

The safety that the farm provided didn’t last long after that. 

Shane was quickly losing his grip, Dale was killed by a lone walker, and eventually the fields were overrun by walkers. A massive hoard stumbling onto the property, drawn in by the frequent gunfire. 

You had lost quite a few on that night, good people that had helped you come out of your shell, people that didn’t deserve what they got. In all honesty you didn’t think you would have made it out either if it wasn’t for Andrea and Daryl. 

After the fall of the farm, you were all lost. Hershel and his family had lost their home, and the entire group was left to search. 

But you had to bury your sadness for the time being, winter was quickly approaching. The leaves were changing into a crisp orange color, and the wind had a bite to it in the mornings, leaving you shivering as you huddled closer to the fire. Daryl had been kind enough to let you borrow his poncho some nights, insisting you probably needed it more than him. 

Daryl seemed to warm up to you after a while too. He would subtly make sure you ate by leaving a half eaten can of vegetables next to you, or would occasionally sharpen your knife for you after doing his own. It was a kind gesture, letting you know that he was starting to trust you. 

Eventually it got to the point where your group finally ran out of canned food. There were no stores around, and everyone was too cold or tired to go anywhere. So Daryl decided to take you out to the woods, finally going out of his way to teach you how to hunt. 

“Y’know what you’re trackin’?” He asked one day, slowly walking beside you, following a small winding trail in the woods. 

You were quiet for a second, thinking as you analyzed the tracks next to your feet, “Could be a deer, whatever it is, it’s got hooves.” 

“Obviously.” He huffed, resisting the urge to smile when you glared at him. 

“Shut the hell up, man.” A small sigh came from you, “Could be a hog.” You crouched down and moved the leaves out of the way to get a better look, “The prints are close together, if it were a deer they’d be further apart, right?” 

Daryl just shrugged, “You tell me.” 

That’s how your hunts would usually go, Daryl providing frustrating nonanswers as you attempted to close in on your prey. He wasn’t going to babysit you, as he had originally said when you first asked, you had to figure it out yourself. You knew that was the only way you’d be able to learn, even if it was mildly annoying. 

The winter finally started to melt into spring, temperatures rising and falling occasionally until settling into an in between. And soon enough your restless searching came to an end, the high chain link fences surrounding a prison with walkers meandering the expansive field calling your names. A soon to be shelter for your group and many others. 

The fight against Woodbury had been a painful ordeal, with Maggie and Glenn getting taken hostage, and Daryl leaving with his brother. The group was briefly left in shambles, hanging on by a thread as Rick slowly faded away, losing his way after Lori’s untimely death and the birth of her daughter. 

When Daryl left it broke your heart a little. The two of you had bonded over the course of the harsh winter, often seeking each other out as a heat source. Whispering stories of your families filling the silence as the biting wind wrapped itself around you. But you could never blame him for leaving, knowing you would do the same thing if you could. 

The first attack from the Governor was when Daryl finally returned, his mouthy brother in tow. They had rescued Rick on the outskirts of the fence, luckily finding him just in time before he was overpowered. 

It made you happy to see your friend again, a hand squeezing his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. It had been a lot less awkward than you expected, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing softly, reassuring you that he was okay. 

“Well, ain’t that just cute.” Merle had teased, pinching his little brother on the cheek. 

But the tragedies were never ending, your group seemed to constantly be one step away from death’s doorstep. 

The Governor decided to make his way back to the prison, armed gunmen following behind him. 

They wanted to execute every last one of you no matter what it took. Your group had laid out traps, pretending to have left as requested, lulling them in with a false hope that you were gone. Until the shrill sound of the prison sirens started, smoke grenades being thrown down at their feet in the darkened hallways. 

The armed militia of men, mothers, and teenagers the Governor recruited had run away in fear, knowing that their fates would be sealed if they stayed any longer. 

As the weeks continued after the attack, things started to look up. That once forgotten positivity slowly makes its way back into your heart, along with a smile as you allow yourself to get to know the former residence of Woodbury. Your community was slowly forming, a home being made out of the prison. 

It was easy to become comfortable. 

And as your fondness grew for Daryl, you remembered what your mother used to tell you. 

“You will find the one when you least expect it.” 

Who knew that the world had to end in order for you to find him. With every soft touch, lingering whisper, and a quick stolen kiss in the shadows of your cell, it grew increasingly more obvious that your mother may have been right. 

Daryl was the only person you felt safe enough to be vulnerable around. His gentleness towards you breaking down the walls around your heart, settling himself deep within it. And you gladly let him. You both decided to keep your relationship a secret. Enjoying the thrill of sneaking around, while also avoiding any teasing remarks that would come from your group. 

You knew that this was Daryl’s first serious relationship, so you wanted to allow him the grace of warming up to the idea. You wanted him to become more comfortable with himself, taking his time with you, soothing any anxious wandering thought he may have. 

But you knew that the group would notice eventually. Hell, they already were. The small teasing remarks being thrown your way would make Daryl stiffen. He would pick at the strings on his denim jacket as he huffed and grumbled something in response. 

“You want me to slip her a note or somethin’?” Carol teased him, nudging her elbow into his side, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” She laughed quietly when he rolled his eyes, “Come on Daryl-” 

She was cut off by someone running up to him, Glenn’s frantic eyes meeting Daryl and Carol’s before quickly sputtering out your name, “I don’t know what happened but-” 

The poor boy could barely get the words out before Daryl ran off towards the cell block. 

You were laying in your cell, blood covering your shirt as your side bled profusely. Hershel was quick to try and stop the bleeding, urging everyone to give him room to work. 

“If you want her to live, get out, now!” 

The blood drained from Daryl’s face as he looked at you. Bruises were beginning to bloom on your face and arms, your nose was bleeding and there was a slash on your cheek. Your boyfriend directed his anger towards one of the new members you had taken on a run, pinning him roughly against the concrete wall with his forearm. 

“The hell happened out there?! Huh?!” Daryl shouted in the scared man’s face, shrinking in on himself as Rick and Maggie tried to pull Daryl off. “Talk!” 

“We-” The man gulped, “We got attacked by a small group…” There were tears in his eyes as he tried to explain, his swollen lip trembling. He didn’t look much better than you did honestly, his eye was almost swollen shut, and there was blood coating his hairline, “She said- said she knew them, some group she was with. I thought they were gonna k-kill us.” He swallowed harshly, “They shot her…”

Daryl swore he could see red. His shoulders heaving as he started to pace, fingers running through his hair as he tried to process what the man had said. His face was hot, body pulsing with anger as he glanced back into your cell to see you lying there motionless. 

He stalked back up towards the man, his gaze hard and threatening as he spoke in a gruff voice, “If she dies, her blood is on your hands.” He pressed his finger hard into the man’s chest, pushing him harshly back into the concrete wall before stalking towards the exit of the prison. 

It took the entire council to talk Daryl out of hunting this group down himself. Carol telling him it was a suicide mission, and he would die if he left like this. Going into a situation blinded by rage was never good for anyone, especially now, with you lying unconscious in your cell. 

Luckily for you the bullet went straight through, and all they had to do was wait for you to wake up. 

Daryl didn’t dare leave your side, a rag gently dabbing across your forehead as he whispered softly to you. Unspoken words that he had wished he had told you sooner, words that only you were allowed to hear him say, something he had never dared utter to another person. Not even his own family. 

“I love you.” 

The time seemed to drag on slowly as he waited, his watchful not leaving you for more than a few seconds. His gentle fingers traced patterns on your skin, ignoring the occasional staring that would come from someone passing by your cell. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the secrecy, not now. 

“That fuckin’ tickles.” He suddenly heard you rasp, your eyes fluttering open and glancing down at his fingers on your forearm. 

Relief washed over Daryl like cool rain on a hot summer's day. His shoulders sagged and he couldn’t help but lean his head down to rest on your arm, a long sigh being released from his lungs. 

“Daryl…” You whispered, making him look at you, “It was my old group.” 

The look on your face was similar to the one you sported when they first found you, terrified, lost, confused. You didn’t know what to do with yourself knowing that not only were they still alive, but a lot closer than you would have liked. 

“I know.” He replied, his hand holding onto yours, “You don’t have t’worry about that right now.” 

Even though you were able to find happiness in the apocalypse, tragedy never ceased to sneak up from behind every corner. And you guessed that it had become easy to forget that life had a cruel sense of humor. 

It always would.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: 2022 me would skin me alive if she ever found out im being vocal abt liking eddie munson

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@lokis-army-77

⭒ Cozy

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

⭒ Private Viewing

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⭒ Next Caller

Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

⭒ You Look Lonely

Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

@ceriseheaven

⭒ Cockwarming with older!Eddie (blurb)

@natti-ice

⭒ “Let me taste you” (blurb)

⭒ "B-baby please, I'm gonna-" (blurb)

@msgexymunson

⭒ Shotgun

You're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 

⭒ Benefits

Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

⭒ Soft Touches

you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⭒ The Ink Shop

Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.  

@eddiethefreakkmunson

⭒ Not So Accidental Invitations

Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more...

@bimbobaggins69

⭒ Love in the Locker Room

you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

@luveline

⭒ Topaz, Lime, Ruby Red

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect.

⭒ Is It Getting Too Much?

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can).

⭒ If It Barks

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating.

part one | part two | part three | part four |

⭒ Was That So Hard?

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want?

⭒ Dark Matter

You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⭒ Something Extra

You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you.

@usedtobecooler

⭒ Desperate!Eddie (blurb)

⭒ eddie "monstercock" munson

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

@munson-blurbs

⭒ Dark and Stormy

A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

@eiightysixbaby

⭒ Take A Dip?

eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

@galaxy-siren

⭒ Biggest Fan

@lonelysatellites

⭒ Safe Hands

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise.

@eddiernunson

⭒ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

⭒ The Splash of Rain on the Roof

you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

@bbyhellfire

⭒ missionary with eddie (drabble)

eddie didn't care for missionary until he meets you

@oneforthemunny

⭒ Soft!Eddie (blurb)

@kiwi-bitchez

⭒ The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

@/gaybybirth on ao3

⭒ Double Feature

When you're forced to go to a double feature showing of the Halloween movies with your brother and his friends, you find yourself, like usual, interacting with Eddie Munson. But it doesn't take long for the platonic line to be blurred and things to heat up.

⭒ Show Me

You ask Eddie to show you what you've been missing out on after he discovers your boyfriend never went down on you.

@eds6ngel

⭒ Romantic!Eddie blurb

@gxtitobxby

⭒ The Princess and the Freak | Part 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

@/mediocredreams on ao3

⭒ Extra Credit

Your professor offers you a very personal in-home tutoring session.

@/ghostproofbaby on ao3

⭒ Twenty Four Hours

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

(Y'ALL MUST READ IT ISTG ITS SO GOOD)

@/decembersfinest on ao3

⭒ Living After Midnight

Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

@littlexdeaths

⭒ Band Practice

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

@eddiexmunsonlover

⭒ One Step Away From You

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

@/nerdsarehot on ao3

⭒ A Kiss to Remember

⭒ Flustered

@/GreyPetticoats on ao3

⭒ Wing Man

Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

@eddiesghxst

⭒ Riding Eddie drabble

@eddiemunchem

⭒ that puppy dog typa love

eddie is fiercely loyal, doting, and affectionate — when he’s enamored, you’re everything; his whole world. so just don’t mind the fact that he clings to you like a sloth to a tree, yeah?

[apas-95]

How do you not realize your Marxist ideology is false when it says shit like a trans black woman small business owner is oppressing her cis white man employees?

I don't think you're, like, genuinely asking, or are curious, here, but I'll answer anyways, for everyone else who might be confused on issues like this: it's intersectionality.

You could make this argument about essentialy any axis of oppression - 'how do you not realise your LGBT ideology is false when it says shit like a cishet black person is oppressing their white trans gay employees', or, conversely, 'how do you not realise your racial ideology is false when it says shit like a white trans gay person is oppressing their cishet black employees'.

The point here isn't to have a rock-paper-scissors, Pokémon type-effectiveness ranking of which axes of oppression 'outrank' which others, it's to understand that each axis of oppression is an entirely distinct social system that overlaps with the other. A black business owner suffers from the social system of antiblackness, and benefits from the social system of capitalism. The specific overlap of their blackness and their class character also gives them an entirely unique character with regards to their segment of society. If they are USAmerican, for example, in their specific case the state and progress of the national liberation movement in the US means that they make up the rear of the revolutionary movement, despite being themselves petit-bourgeois. These systems of oppression are qualitatively different, and cannot be simply, quantitatively, summed up against each other.

With this in mind, it should be understood that the Marxist understanding of class as the principal contradiction does not mean that class is the most important, overruling factor, and that other axes should be ignored. Class is considered the principal contradiction because it is the contradiction that all other axes of oppression, genuine in their own rights, grew out of. Antiblackness was created by the slave trade (not vice-versa), and the slave trade was created by the growing European bourgeoisie's need to extract surplus-value, in the collapse of the Feudal economy. In the example you gave, the petit-bourgeois business owner exploits the labour of her workers, and is supported in doing so by an entire legal, political, and philosophical system based on the expropriation of the proletariat. She is also herself repressed and exploited on the basis of race, gender, and transness. These do not cancel each other out. However, given the ultimate source of racial, patriarchal, and cissexist oppress is political-economic class, her ability to genuinely fight for her interests in those fields will be hamstrung by her class position - just as her ability to attain and maintain that class position in the first place is itself hamstrung by her oppression in other fields.

Ultimately, there are no simple rules that society can be flattened down by. Each and every instance and scenario must be investigated in its own right. The idea that people are driven to Marxism because it provides an easy or simplified way of looking at the world is (perhaps unfortunately!) wrong, it actually means a lot more work!

[taintandviolent]

Visitors ; Jimmy Darling x Remmick x Reader

summary: You've been fooling around with Jimmy Darling for a few weeks now, but are shocked when he shows up at your doorstep, past midnight, with a stranger, asking for a threesome.

word count 4.3K warnings: female reader, no use of Y/N, crossover au, au where remmick survived (don't ask me to explain how), mentions of alcohol/drinking/being drunk, reader's occupation at the freak show is up to you, threesome, oral sex (fem/reader receiving), fingering, handjobs, interrupted orgasms, vampire bites/biting, blood drinking, vampire!Jimmy Darling, .

a/n: *grabs your face* listen to me. I don't expect anyone to enjoy this as much as I did, but I'm posting it anyway. this is an extremely self-indulgent fanfic, inspired by the fact that @garykingz said that Remmick reminded them of a very fucked up and evil vampire version of Jimmy Darling. I took that idea and absolutely RAN with it. by reading this, you will excuse anything weird or any plot holes, okay? okay. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / fic playlist here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

At first, there nothing was fire and agony, but that didn't hurt half as bad as the feeling of failure. He'd failed, he'd lost them all, and somehow, somehow after all that… there was mud. It surrounded his stinging, sizzling body until he healed. Until he found himself again.

Maybe Mississippi wasn't the place for him.

Jupiter, Florida. 1952.

The sun has disappeared from the sky, allowing room for the big, luminous moon to rise. It's a clear night, no clouds, despite the weather forecast threatening summer rain for the next few days. A soft, humid breeze flows through the air, rustling the tall grasses in the field while the crickets chirp their nightly song. A few miles away, the settling sounds of Lake Okeechobee lingers.

Surrounded by the grasses, your trailer sits. It's farthest away from the other trailers, out of the circle of long-term residents. You were a new addition, so it was only fair. It's a Liberty, white and blue, with a hand-painted picket fence trim along the bottom, and red and white gingham curtains hang in the windows. To the every day person, it might not have been much, but to you, it was home. You'd made it that way.

Inside, you let out a contented sigh and sway your feet back and forth in the air; the night had been a good one. Despite the blistering heat persisting through the night, it had been a full house for the past week. Word had gotten out in town, and the crowds had flocked to the Freak Show. Elsa was happy — and when she was happy, the entire troupe reaped the benefits of her jovial and rare attitude. On a personal side, your segment had gone particularly well tonight, the crowd had been reactive — something that always filled your ego like one of the red balloons that you sold at the stand.

Now, freshly showered, rollers in, pajamas on, you're lounging on your stomach, flipping through a magazine. Life is good. Paired with the music that drifts from the small radio on the shelf, the constant whirring of the fan fills your trailer, doing a decent job at keeping it cool despite the heat wave. The only light comes from the string lights in your window, and the small bedside lamp — everything else is shut off. It's just enough for you to read by, and illuminates the small caravan in a warm, romantic way. You lick the pad of your middle finger and use it to turn to the next page.

Knock-knock-knock knock knock.

Your body seizes at the sudden noise, and your eyes flit from the magazine to the door — that sounded an awful lot like Jimmy Darling's knock, but… it was so late. Clad in nothing but your sheer, pink nightgown, you push yourself up off the bed and snatch the matching satin robe from its hook as you pass it, heading towards the door.

The knock repeats, and you glance at the heart-shaped wall clock. 12:36. What on Earth?

With a steady hand, you unlock the door, and pull the latch-handle, pushing the door forward gently. Standing there, is not only Jimmy, but another man. He's shorter than Jimmy by a few inches, but similar in build and energy. His dark hair falls onto his forehead in gentle curls, and his enchanting blue eyes gaze up at you with a piqued interest. Nervously, you wrap the robe around yourself, and tie it tightly at the waist.

"Hey, baby," Jimmy says, looking up into your pretty eyes, admiring the way that your interior light creates a halo around your scarf covered hair. He's seen you in rollers before — nothing new for him. He leans one arm against the edge of your trailer, and you can tell that he's been drinking. He always gets extra flirty when he drinks, and the last few times he'd come to your trailer drunk had resulted in debauchery. "Whatcha' up to, pretty girl?"

God, you think. He's always so charming. You'd walk right off a cliff if he asked you to.

You tighten your grip on the top of your satin robe, making sure that no cleavage is revealed. You look from Jimmy to the stranger, your expression filled with apprehension. Jimmy seeing you in rollers and free of makeup was one thing, but another man putting his eyes on your indecent form had a pit forming in your stomach.

You hesitate, chewing on the corner of your lip. "I was just readin'." You pause, expectantly waiting for an introduction. When it doesn't come, you clear your throat and ask: "Jimmy… who is this?"

He blows air out through his lips, shaking his head softly. "Hell, look at me. Starin' at you and I forgot my manners. This is Remmick. He saw the show tonight."

"Oh," you say curtly. Why is he at my trailer? "Hello."

Remmick nods, flashing you a bright, inviting smile. Encumbered with the same kind of boyishness, it reminds you of Jimmy's, but there's something darker underneath it, something that Jimmy lacks. It's almost malicious — something that Jimmy doesn't have an iota of.

"I'm a traveling man and I've sure seen a lot of shows. Y'all are a bunch of gifted folks. And you… you've got a real God given talent, darlin'." The man's accent sounds slightlySouthern — Floridian, even — but you notice that underneath, there's an odd lilt to his words, like he's using it to mask something else.

You blink. You didn't know about God given — the mutters in the crowds were usually of the opposite, freaks are God's mistakes. Still, the compliment is appreciated, and you smile politely all the same, dipping your head to your chest as a silent thank you. You're all too used to compliments from male show-goers, so that doesn't unnerve you… but the way he's looking at you sure does. The eye contact feels like a one hundred pound weight on your chest, and shift as you might, you can't dislodge it. You don't think he's even looked at Jimmy once. A silence, punctured only by the gentle sounds of the evening, hangs heavy between the three of you for a little too long, but you finally break it with a cough.

"….Jimmy, what're you doin'?"

"Huh?" God bless his naivety.

"It's past midnight. What're you doin'?"

He seems embarrassed by that, but with a quick look to Remmick, he regains his confidence and finds his reasoning for showing up at your door to begin with. He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat.

"Well, Remmick and I got to talkin' after the show, and we were wonderin' if we could come in. Y'know, for a little fun."

Your jaw almost hits the floor. What exactly had they been talking about? You and Jimmy had fooled around a few times — more than a few — but you never expected him to come at you with an offer of a threesome. The implications weigh heavy on your limbs like shackles, and your gaze flickers back and forth between the two of them.

"Jimmy, I…"

"Now," he starts, sensing your apprehension, cutting you off. "…Listen. I know you aren't that kinda' girl, baby… but… he appreciates you the same way I do. He sees what I see, and I just… I think it'd be fun."

"If I may," Remmick says, flattening a hand on his chest and nodding slowly a few times. "I've traveled all over the world... And I ain't never seen a woman like you. I'm a firm believer in appreciatin' beauty, and makin' sure that the owner of it knows they've got somethin' real special."

"Y'see?" Jimmy asks, looking up at you with those big, ink-pool eyes of his. Your heart just melts at the sight of them, and you want to lean down and press your lips against his warm ones. You know what he tastes like, having memorized it the first time you two kissed. Heat pools between your legs, and you hum softly to yourself.

"C'mon, baby… we'll be gentle…" he urges. Short of clasping his conjoined fingers together, he's begging you. You know that tone in his voice. You've heard him beg before. Jimmy leans more of his weight into the trailer, and reaches out, running one of his fingers along the length of your thigh. His touch is electric and it takes all of your power to suppress the shudder that tickles at the base of your spine, but you do.

You swallow the dryness in your throat and look to Remmick. His eyes slide heavy from your face to the forbidden spot between your legs, as if he notices the fervid, salacious change in you. He grins as you shift, rubbing your silky soft skin together, trying to alleviate some of the arousal. "I won't bite too hard."

They aren't going anywhere, and the way Jimmy's looking at you — hell, the way they're both looking at you — is suddenly driving you crazy. It's turning your resolve to melted butter, dripping through their extended fingertips.

You heave a sigh.

"Too hard? You better not bite me at all. I've got shows tomorrow." You say, stepping to the side of the door. "Come on. Both of you. You're letting all the good air out."

Jimmy's face lights up. With a huff, he drops his hand from your thigh, throwing Remmick a pleased glance, and jerks his head towards the door before stepping up inside. His hand trails along the front of your stomach lovingly as he moves further inside, allowing room for Remmick as he too steps inside. With a lingering glance outside, you lock the door behind them.

You don't even make it to the fridge to offer them both a glass of lemonade before they descend on you, like two hungry animals cornering a small prey animal.

Jimmy's hands are on you, cupping your breasts outside of the flimsy fabric of your nightgown, as he mutters hot breathed words of need. His mouth finds yours in a flash, tongue slipping along your bottom lip before delving inside to wrestle with your own. The heady, sweet taste of him paired with the remnants of the booze he was drinking invades your tastebuds, making you woozy with want. Your lids flutter closed as Jimmy deepens the kiss, one hand on the small of your back, pulling you ever closer to him.

Remmick is on the other side of you, kissing you, inhaling you. There's a hunger seated deep within his core; you can feel it in the way his mouth explores the nape of your neck, sloppy with desire. You ease into the feeling, and bring a hand around his head, running your fingers through his soft hair. He inhales again and whimpers into your neck, like he's touch-starved. You keep up your ministrations, tangling your fingers in his locks and pushing him against the curve of your neck. While he kisses you, his hands slither up the curve of your hip, gripping the plush flesh there, pulling your hips towards his own.

You allow a sweet little vocalization to drift off your lips. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy the attention, the tantalizing feeling of not one but two pairs of hands on you, exploring you, tasting you.

"So pretty, baby…" Jimmy mutters into your mouth. His hands explore every inch of your top half, moving defly from your breasts to your neck, where he grips the column of it. Not hard enough to restrict airflow, just enough to fan the fire in your core.

Remmick's tongue lolls out, licking a thick stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. He urges his aching groin against the plushness of your hip. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen…"

The kiss was abrupt, to be sure, but it seems to take even less time for Remmick to be on his knees. He makes a fist in your nightgown and hoists it up your thighs painfully slow, savoring the feeling of the satin sliding up your silky soft skin. There's no friction. Once the fabric is bunched at your hips, Remmick buries his head between your plush thighs, tongue laving over the soft, supple flesh. His hands crawl up them, and with an avidious urgency, he pulls them apart, forcing you to take a few wide steps.

Jimmy had eaten you out almost every time you'd been together, and in doing so, had created a monster out of you. Now, even the proximity of a mouth in front of her, a single hot breath washing over her, and you were throbbing.

This time was no different.

Louder than the croony voice over the radio, a whimper leaves your lips as Remmick exhales over your aching center, an inch or so away from her. Jimmy feels the change in your body, and looks down, clocking his new friend between your thighs. A cocky smile crosses his boyish features, and he leans in, pressing a single kiss along your jawline.

"See, baby?" Jimmy drawls, close to your ear. "I told you he appreciates you just like I do."

Jimmy's hand finds yours and pulls it — gently, lovingly, if that's possible — towards his cock. Your fingers cave to the outline, soft jeans are pulled taut, hard-on straining against the worn fabric. You hum, and fiddle with his belt until you manage to get it undone. Next, the button of his jeans, and before Jimmy has time to help you, your hand is delving inside his boxers, searching for the searing hot tip of his cock. Keeping your body straight and your cunt easy access for Remmick, you bring your free hand to the back of Jimmy's neck, feeling the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him close into another searing, sensual kiss.

A flash of soemthing — nerves, perhaps — taints your features. Jimmy shakes his head, placating you with another kiss.

"Nah, baby. It'll feel good. Real good. Besides," he whispers, nuzzling his nose into your neck. "I need you good and wet."

So you let him.

Encouraging him, you tilt your hips towards him.

Below you, Remmick exhales again, sending a chill through you. He kitten licks at your folds for a minute, slowly, savoring the wetness that meets his tongue. Two, long fingers slip through your wetness, before sinking inside your cunt. Stars of pleasure explode behind your eyes, your head lolling back helpelessly. He lets out a low growl at the desperate way your hips buck forward, forcing them in further and responds by curling them up into your clenching heat, hitting the lethal spot within. Another small, whimpering moan leaves your lips, feeling vulnerable in the hands of both men — but that vulnerability turns you on even more. You feel your knees to turn to jello as they both continue. You're suddenly very glad that you're pressed tightly up aaginst the sink.

As you jerk Jimmy off in slow, deliberate strokes, Remmick pumps his fingers inside of you, his mouth suctioning to your cunt every so often, lapping up the succulent juices that leak from her. Every time he does, your grip on Jimmy's cock tightens, urging more pre-cum from the fat, velvet soft tip. You both can hear the lewd sounds coming from Remmick's mouth; he's sloppy and hungry with what he's doing, and your legs are starting to quiver around his head. Jimmy breaks the kiss to chuckle.

"God damn, baby. You gettin' taken care of down there, huh?" He says, his voice husky. "Feel good?"

You mewl, nodding. "Y-yeah… he's—mmmmph. He's…."

"Shhh, baby, I know. He's eatin' you real good. Can't blame him, 'cause I know you taste good. I've been there. Like sugar on your tongue…"

Despite your orgasm fast approaching, you don't lose your rhythm, pumping his stiff cock through your fist. Your fingers are wet from the pre-cum that leaks from the slit and Jimmy bucks against your grip, humming low into your ear.

"Faster, baby… faster."

You obey, restricted slightly by his open jeans. Jimmy feels this and reaches up to pull them underneath his balls, giving you free reign. To thank him, you capture his mouth in another searing kiss, nipping playfully at his bottom lip before letting your tongue swirl with his.

Remmick swallows against you, and his tongue ceases its flicking to tease your entrance. Your intoxicating nectar is dripping down the length of his fingers, into his palm, and each passing second brings you closer to the edge. He can taste it — you're getting sweeter and headier.

Jimmy breaks the kiss again, resting his forehead against yours. You're both breathless, and your kiss-swollen lips pull into a pout. "Why don't we uh, take this to the bed? I need inside that, baby." Remmick hears this and laps at your cunt a few more times before he reluctantly gets to his feet, slowly pulling his mouth and fingers away from your sensitive center. You look at his face — his lips and chin are glistening clear with your arousal and his drool. But god, there's a lot of it. It seems to leak out the side of his mouth in a thick stream, but he doesn't bother to wipe it away. His gaze is hungry, and you imagine, mirrors your own lust-blown one. His eyes look different, darker, and almost red. You blink, but they've returned to normal. You're too deep in arousal to think on it further.

You retract your hand from the front of Jimmy's pants, and hurry to the back of the trailer, where the small bed is. You push the magazine out of the way with one hand, and turn, falling backwards. Your rear hits the small, springy mattress and the cool air from the fan hits your wet center, sending a shiver down your spine. You spread your legs again, eager for the oncoming lust of both men, and lift your half-lidded eyes. Jimmy is walking towards you, unbuttong his shirt hurriedly — with an almost giddy expression plastered on his drunken face, looking ready to sink his cock so deep inside of you that you see stars. Your eyes flick to Remmick; he's close behind him and looks equally as eager, a giant smile on his face. It's almost too big.

Jimmy pulls the white undershirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. He's only a few inches away and you hum excitedly. "Come and get me, boys…"

After that, it happens so fast.

Remmick latches onto Jimmy, pulling him backwards with strong arms. Sharp claws dig into his the sunkissed flesh of his biceps, holding him in place as he bites down on the side of his neck.

The blood.

The blood gushes down the front of his chest, coating his warm skin in crimson. Jimmy falls to his knees, his coal-black eyes locked on you, frozen in a confused, pained expression and Remmick follows him down. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as the helplessness claims your system, paralyzing you. He looks so lost. You know that the adrenaline is dumping in his system and he probably doesn't understand what's happening, but you do. Except you don't, really.

This man that you invited in is not a man at all, even though he ate your cunt like one, even though he kissed your neck like one, and whispered sweet nothings like one. Your brain can hardly process the visual in front you, and the scream that rips through your throat hurts. You howl Jimmy's name as loud as you can through your fingers, in hopes of altering the course of events. Remmick doesn't let up, pointed fangs gnashing and gnawing at the torn flesh. He swallows loudly, drinking the cerise liquid that flows out.

Your instinct to survive kicks in, and you don't know how you manage, but you somehow leap off the bed and over to the floor, knocking hard into the table at your side.

You throw your shoulder into the door and stumble out of the trailer, onto the ground below. The grasses fold underneath your weight as you scurry to your feet, getting back into an upright position. You take off in a straight line, towards the circle of trailers in the distance.

You hear the creak of your door as it opens again. And… singing? Behind you, Remmick’s voice carries on the breeze, light as a feather and as you run barefooted, you whimper, moving your legs as fast and as hard as you can.

"Anytime… you're feelin' lonely…. anytime… you're feelin' blue…"

You push through a patch of tall grasses, and keep running towards the first trailer visible — Eve's. It's not far, but each step feels like it's dragging you backwards, backwards into his grasp.

"…that's the time, I'll be thinkin' of you…"

You nearly collapse against the door and scream your heart out. Someone has to hear you.

"EVE!" Your closed fist hammers on the metal over and over again, thumping loudly. "EVE! WAKE UP! PLEASE! Eve, let me in! Something real bad has happened - EEEEEEVE!"

The singing continues, growing closer with each passing second and Remmick nears the trailer. A light flicks on inside, soft and filtered through the lace curtains that hang in her window, and the door swings open, revealing a nightgown clad and grief stricken Eve. "Sweetheart, what—"

"SHUT THE DOOR!" You push past Eve with a panicked strength and pull the door shut as you enter the trailer. The overwhelming feeling of safety hits you, and you collapse against your friend sobbing. You can barely catch your breath from running, but do your best to explain anyway.

"H-he's d-d-dead, Eve! Oh god — he's dead!" Your words come out in a blubbering mess, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Slow down, sweetheart." She pulls you away, holding you firmly at your shoulders. "Who's dead? What happened?"

"J-Jimmy! I let them into my trailer! We were foolin' around, and that man, he's a — he's a monster or something, he ate him! I —"

You hear a voice from outside the trailer, and freeze. It couldn't be.

"Baaaaby…" Jimmy says, sing-song and full of his usual caramel sweetness. "Baby, baby, baby."

Without another word, you rush to the door and open it. Jimmy stands there, with Remmick at his side. Had the front of Jimmy not been stained in blood, you wouldn't think there was anything wrong with him. At all.

But there was. You'd watched the life drain out of Jimmy's warm, coffee-black eyes, watched him crumple to the floor like he was made of paper. You'd heard the sound of Remmick swallowing wetly against his flesh as he drank the life blood that flowed from the gash on his neck. Where there should've been a chewed up hole, there was a simple scar.

But you'd seen it. You'd seen it with your own two eyes.

But then, Jimmy flashes you a smile. His perfect pearly whites are now elongated and sharp at the tips. You gasp, taking a step back. "Jimmy, no…"

"What did ya' leave for, baby?" His mouth sounds full.

"Don't!"

"Aw, c'mon now," Remmick says, looking up at you with a faux, depressed expression. Paired with the drying, deep red blood that coats the lower half of his face and neck, it's a sinister visual and brings you no comfort whatsoever. "We was just gettin' started."

"YOU ATE HIM!"

"Nah, darlin', just had a little bite is all. I ate you, and whoooo, I ain't ever had a cunt that sweet."

Angry heat floods your neck. Eve shifts next to you, taking in the confusing and life-altering scene in front of her — she'd dealt with a lot of things in her time, but vampires weren't one of them.

From behind you, Eve speaks up. "Both of you, get lost. Jimmy Darling, I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, but you ain't gonna' hurt the rest of us."

Jimmy frowns and shakes his head, like he's incredulous that he's even having this conversation. "Eve, it's better this way. You gotta' trust me. We're all afraid of fading away, and now we don't have to!"

"No," she responds sharply. "No."

"Have I ever lead you and the gang wrong?"

Both of you stop at that, knowing that he hadn't. He'd always been the strong, logical voice of reason, always had the troupe's best interest in mind.

"Baby," Jimmy whispers, pulling your attention to him. "C'mon. Take my hand."

You shake your head, convincing more yourself than him.

He nods and stretches his hand closer to you.

"I know you love me. We can be together. We got all the time in the world, now."

The ground drops from beneath you, and takes your stomach along with it. You loved him, you really did. Hearing him admit it for you had your walls crumbling to pieces at your feet.

"Eve," you say, mournfully. She puts a hand on your shoulder, holding you back, as If she senses the change in you, senses that your heart started aching something awful.

You shrug her off and take a step towards the door.

"Sweetheart," Eve calls. "Don't do this. That's not Jimmy anymore, even though it's walkin' and talkin' like him. Don't fall for it."

You look from her to Jimmy again, and your heart squeezes in agony. She's right, but if you lose him forever…

You look to Eve again, devastated at your own decision.

"I'm sorry, Eve."

As you step down, both Jimmy and Remmick coax you forward with sweet words, calling you baby and sweet girl. You wonder briefly if it'll hurt when they bite you.

You collapse against Jimmy's chest. He's not as warm as before, and the blood that hasn't dried sticks to the front of your nightgown. You forget about that feeling as he wraps his arms around your back, in an iron grip. You ease into his embrace, into the knowing feeling of impending doom.

You don't know what this means for the rest of them. You don't know what will happen, but you're in his arms.

And for now, that's all that matters.

[tunafruitt]

--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞

SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3

[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]

Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO

-> [ DOTTORE ]

“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”

The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.

Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.

No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)

When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3

In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.

You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.

You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???

And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.

“I can hear you, Y/N.”

“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”

“Good morning.”

“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”

“Are you asking because I have a choice?”

Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—

“Doctor, the segments have finished—“

“Oh.”

-> [ XIAO ]

“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”

So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)

Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)

Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)

The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..

…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

“Xiao! I found you.”

As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.

“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”

“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”

You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”

“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”

“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”

“… Y-Y/N..”

“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”

FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling

[communist-ojou-sama]

I was wondering if you had anything on why cartels are illegal in most countries?, like wouldn't it benefit the bourgeoisie if they could set prices like that? forcing consumers to pay exorbitant prices due to a united bourgeoisie sounds wonderful for the owning class!

But I understand that if it were, then it would be legal, the capitalist system works in their favor, so cartels are illegal for a reason I imagine? unless it was something that lead to worker revolts(like why most countries have workers protections at least nominally) did it?

It's for the same reason that the US notionally has anti-trust laws and once upon a time made use of them; when we say that the bourgeois state exists to mediate contradictions on behalf of the bourgeoisie, that doesn't mean that they simply do whatever the bourgeoisie wants (not initially, anyway). Cartels and monopolies do create massive profits for certain segments of the bourgeoisie but in the long term they also shrink the bourgeoisie and shorten the lifespan of the bourgeois state by hightening contradictions between rising prices and falling wages. One role that the bourgeois state traditionally plays is in moderating conflicts within the bourgeois class itself and in facilitating the long-term viability of the whole system and nation, at least until the process of elite capture continues apace, which is part of the cycle of the destruction of capitalism via its own contradictions