#don't you think you're the problem if I (A fucking teenager myself) can see somethings wrong...

[golbrocklovely]

privacy please // colby brock

A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3

prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship

word count: 1363

~~~~~~~~

"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.

I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."

"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.

I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."

"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.

"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."

"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."

He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."

"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"

"Commanding!" He barked.

"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.

Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"

He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."

I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."

"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.

"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."

Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."

He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.

I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.

"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.

A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."

My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.

And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.

He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."

"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.

"You like what you see?" He mumbled.

"Love." I emphasized.

He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."

"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.

"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.

He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.

"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."

I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"

He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."

I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."

"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.

I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."

"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.

"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.

Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?

"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."

"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."

Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.

"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.

"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."

I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"

"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.

My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.

"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.

He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."

"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.

He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."

"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."

He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."

[wilderness-of-thoughts]

Before:

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, the moon was shining through the curtains outside the window. And in front of you on the table was a miniature version of Gojo. You listened almost carefully to what he had to tell you. About how he was on a mission to the Old Temple in Kyoto. Routine. A few curses and a few bigger ones were disturbing the peace of the area. Nothing he couldn't handle.

"... And then the light and everything got big." He finished by raising his little hands up, his tail wagging nervously and his ears twitching. "I don't know what curse did this because I was sure I had gotten rid of all of them and none of them would have had that kind of power. And how the fuck did that damn thing get through my barrier?!" He was thinking more out loud than to you. He put his hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "hey, y/n, are you even listening to me?" He looked at you seriously now.

And here we have a problem. Did you listen to him at all? Well, yes, and in other circumstances you probably would have cared, but... Those eyes twinkling in the dark, that fluffy tail that seems as soft as dandelions, those little cat ears that move nervously with his head, and that body of his. Tiny, tiny, adorable.

"yes.. but now I'm fighting with myself because I have a great urge to squeal like a teenager, take you in my arms and cuddle you." You said honestly, clenching your hands on your T-shirt with your remaining willpower. "Stop being so cute or I'm losing." You warned.

"don't even think about it. I may have shrunk, but I'm still Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer.... Hey, are you laughing?!" He growled at you and his tail stood up. Your eyes sparkled with tears of suppressed laughter.

"No!" You lied.

"yes! You laugh at my misfortune! Fuck y/n get a grip and be serious."

"I can't believe those words are coming out of your mouth." You commented, reaching into your pocket for phone. Gojo was too busy dwelling on his fate to pay any attention to it at the moment.

"I am always serious!" He hiss at you. Wait what?! He made a hiss like a cat! No, that's something to remember, if you had any concerns before, they're completely gone now. You aimed the camera at him, enchanted. "Put that away, this instant. I warn you. One photo and...-" Snap. At that moment you felt a sharp pain in the hand that held the phone. It was perforated and completely unusable. Gojo used his cursed energy, you knew it even though you couldn't see it.

"Ouch! Hey! This was supposed to be for posterity!"

"Let posterity kiss my ass" He hiss again.

"Just imagine, in a few decades someone will want to write a PhD thesis on the life and work of the famous Gojo Satoru! This is for documentation." You tried to stroke his ego.

"so let them finish their sentence and move on to the next chapter!"He exhaled loudly through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest.

"ok." You put your phone down, it's good that you have your progress in Genshin saved in the cloud, otherwise you would probably despair more than he is now. "But you know, it's hard to take you seriously in this state." You weren't even concerned about his shrinkage anymore, but rather about the fact that it was he himself that shrunk and not his clothes. At the moment, he was wearing only a headband that was clumsily wrapped around his entire body. As if he was trying to hide in it. In response to your words, he flattened his ears and lowered his head, flushed with shame, anger, and humiliation. You smiled wryly. "But hey, I'm here! Don't give up, little one."

"I'm not tiny!"

"Now you are." Gojo growled again. You sighed, looking away from him. You need to gather your thoughts. Focus y/n! Focus! His silence was unusual."Okay, so let's summarize. You are shrunken. You can use your power. You don't know what shrunk you." Gojo nodded, glancing at you, his tail moving slightly, pleased that you were finally starting to take the subject seriously."what do you say we go back there and.... check the place out?"

"That might be a problem," he grumbled. You tilted head to the side in surprise, sending him a questioning look. Gojo ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. "I blew up ...." He whispered.

"What?"

"I blew up this damn place when I discovered I couldn't become normal!!!" He screamed looking at you. He knew he did wrong but he can't turn back time.

".... And how did you get back here?" You were strangely calm. His tail curled under him, and his ears flattened back again. He didn't answer your question, he simply teleported from the table to the couch next to you. Oh, yes. You forgot about that. You sighed heavily. You wanted to calm him down so you instinctively placed your hand on his back, there was no barrier, you stroked his head with your thumb feeling his tail on your skin in nervous movements. Just like you would pet a little cat in a rag.

"No one can know about this." He spoke quietly, calmer than before. You agreed with him without saying anything. He was speaking out of shame, but also if anyone found out what happened to him, if the elders, heck! His enemies knew he would have a much bigger problem now... Heh... A bigger problem.

"so why didn't you call someone better? You know, Nanami, Yaga, even Megumi."

Gojo didn't know why. You were the weakest, had practically no power, and weren't the best at being ordinary either. A clumsy, indecisive, emotional girl. Despite this, despite all the years you worked for him, despite the fact that you knew each other even before Geto...

Why the fuck did he call you? Gojo lifted his head to look at your face. You seemed so different and yet familiar as stared at him with attention, curiosity and... Care. Gojo smiled slightly, for the first time since he became so small. He only now felt your warm hand on his back. He trusted you, you never betrayed him, you never let him down, you never said no. He gave you increasingly irrationally stupid orders just to test your endurance. When will you crack? When will you have enough? When will the weakest link give up and leave?

Never.

Even when he deliberately humiliated you with his whims, when he teased you, you never left. Yes, there were tears, words spoken in anger, he saw you break down, but you never left.

"Because it's your job to clean up my mess" He replied with a cocky smile, clearly calmer. He watched as you wrinkled your nose in dissatisfaction with the answer, as you twisted your lips as you thought of a text to get back at him. He loved it. And you probably would have thrown him some sarcastic line if he hadn't purred. He didn't even realize it. A quiet purr escaped his body, and you heard it, and then...

"Holy shit, Gojo! Are you purring?! Yiiik! Again!"You chirped, taking him in both hands, careful not to hurt him, and brought him to your cheek in delight.

"NO!" Gojo pressed his hands against your cheek, trying to push himself away, yet he purred quietly, so quietly that he hoped you wouldn't notice. Maybe it won't be so bad? Gojo felt that he did the right thing by turning to you for help. When this is over he'll buy your phone back, but for now for his own safety he'd rather you don't have the camera in your hand.

Next:

[sydsaint]

Idc he's hot 💛💚

Summary: After months of listening to Rhea and Dom, the reader snaps and leaves Judgement Day. Lucky for her, Jordan is an old friend and more than willing to assist with her new problem.

Raw is about to go on air and Judgement Day is all grouped up backstage.

"I think that Dom and I are gonna start the show." Rhea grins to herself. Dominick hanging off her shoulder.

"Oh, what a surprise!" You mumble under your breath from next to Finn.

Finn nudges you gently on the shoulder, warning you not to start something. But Rhea managed to hear your little comment. "What was that, Y/N?" She asks you with a raised brow.

"Nothing." You reply dryly. "Have fun out there." You fake a smile.

Rhea stares down at you for a moment through her thick false lashes but does not say anything else. She walks off and beckons Dominick to follow her.

Once Rhea and Doninick are gone, Finn turns to you with a stern look on his face. "Really, Y/N?" He scolds you.

"What?" You huff. "I'm right, aren't I?" You defend yourself. "Just because she's a champ doesn't mean she's got to act all high and mighty."

"Just, don't start anything with Rhea, Y/N. Please." Finn begs you.

You roll your eyes at your best friend but give in to his demand and nod. "Yeah yeah." You grumble.

Rhea and Dominick come back through the curtain a few minutes later after both of them managed to stir the pot and get Dom booked for a match. They walk over to you, Finn and Damien grinning at themselves.

"Now that'a how you open a show." Rhea laughs with Dominick.

"Yeah, being bitchy and entitled to the crowd until someone wants to come out and finally shut you up. Real original." You just can't help yourself.

Finn clenches his jaw next to you and rubs his forehead. He knows a fight can't be far out, now.

"What was that?" Rhea glares at you with a hand on her hip.

"Yeah! You can't talk to Mami like that." Dominick steps in.

You roll your eyes and shoot daggers at Dominick. "Fuck, you are so annoying!" You sneer at him. "Are you even capable of doing anything but dickriding Rhea like your life depends on it?!"

"Hey!" Rhea steps in.

"And you! God, I cannot stand you!" You point a finger at her. "We get it! You're every teenage boys and gay girl's fantasy woman! No one cares! Try getting an actual personality and fans that aren't horny teenage boys!" You fume.

The room falls silent as you and Rhea size one another up. Rhea goes to speak up finally, but you stop her. "Don't!" You warn Rhea. "I'm sorry, Finn. I love you, but I can't spend another second pretending to care about those two. I'm out!" You turn sharply on your heel and dismiss yourself.

You storm out of the backstage area fuming to yourself. People duck out of the way as they see you coming down the hall. But one person doesn't budge when you cross his path. Finn's old protege, JD McDonagh. Aka Jordan Devlin.

"Woah, who are you headed out to kill?" Jordan puts a hand out in front of him and stops you from advancing down the hallway.

"I'm not in the mood, Jordan!" You growl.

Jordan chuckles but doesn't budge. "Well, I can see that." He chuckles. "Where's Finn at? Or the rest of your crew?" He asks you.

"Ugh, don't even get me started." You seethe. "If I have to hear about Rhea or that idiot Dominick again I swear I'm gonna lose it." You grit your teeth.

"That so?" Jordan replies. "Hell, say the word, darling. I'll head over and kick some manner into Ol' Dominick's ass right now." He suggests.

You shake your head, finally coming down from your outburst. "If I wanted that idiot's ass kicked, I'd do it myself, Jordan." You insist.

"Fair enough." Jordan nods. "You can always hang out with me tonight, darling.  I'd love your company tonight if you're not hanging with Finn and the crew." He offers.

You think for a moment. The idea of hanging out with Jordan again doesn't sound terrible. The two of you used to hang out often back when Finn was still training him.

"I guess hanging out with you might not be so bad." You tease Jordan with a sly smile. "So, what's up? Got any plans for tonight?" You ask him.

"I've got one that you might like, yeah." Jordan nods and slings a casual arm over your shoulder. "I'm sure that you're aware that your bestie Rhea got Dom scheduled for a match tonight?"

You nod and turn your head to face Jordan as the two of you walk. "No, you didn't." You are quick to realize what Jordan is implying.

"Oh, but I did, darlin'." Jordan nods with a mischievous grin.

"No way!" You laugh. "Oh, this is perfect!" You clap your hands together. "I could kiss you right now, Devlin!"

Jordan laughs with you and holds his arms open with an inviting smile. "Lay one on me then, darlin'." He offers.

"I was kidding." You roll your eyes with a playful giggle. "Maybe if you win though." You tease him.

"Against Dominick Mysterio? Easy." Jordan scoffs confidently. "Come on. Let's go score ourselves an easy win for me and some sweet revenge for you."

You and Jordan head down to the curtain. Dominick is already out in the ring with Rhea at his side. And neither of them has any idea what's about to happen to them.

Jordan's music hits and he heads through the curtain. You wait a few seconds so he can get his full entrance done before you head out and shock the crowd.

You lock eyes with Rhea as you make your way to Jordan's side and he slings his arm around you again. She stares daggers at you and you return the look of disdain. Dominick is a little surprised to see you with Jordan. But one whisper from Rhea and he's ready to go.

"Go kick his ass." You offer Jordan a last word of encouragement before he climbs into the ring.

The match begins and you stalk around the ring to where the commentary table is. Rhea sneers at you as you pass her, but you just keep on walking.

"Y/N! This is certainly a surprise." Corey greets you when you walk over to his side of the table. "Tell us, why exactly are you out here with JD Mconagh instead of your Judgement Day colleges?" He asks you.

"I am no longer affiliated in any way with Judgement Day, Corey." You explain with a smile. "I joined Judgement Day when it was a group for people that wanted to be dominant and on top." You add. "Not some rat tag group of wannabes and glorified social media stars."

Rhea turns around when she hears your statement. The two of you stare at one another for a moment before you casually go back to chatting with Corey. You voice your displeasure that Finn won't be joining you. But besides that, you show no remorse for your prompt exit from the group.

Around the end of the match, Rhea takes it upon herself to help Dominick out so he can pull a win. But you are there just in time to stop her.

"Why don't we let mister Latino Heat, handle this himself, Rhea." You stand directly in her path.

"Ha! You think that I'm scared of you?" Rhea laughs.

You stand your ground with a cool smile on your face. "I know you are." You grin at her. "You're scared of me, Rhea because I have the one thing that all those other girls didn't. A partner."

The bell rings again and Rhea's head snaps to the ring just in time to see Jordan's hand being raised. You laugh as she fumes and slip into the ring and over to Jordan's side.

"Nice work, distracting Rhea for me." Jordan grins as you raise his hand in victory.

"My pleasure." You grin at Rhea outside the ring with Dominick. "You won. So lay one on me, ace." You tap your lips gently.

Jordan cracks a larger-than-life grin. "Yes, ma'am." He wastes no time and you find yourself in a dip before Jordan's lips are on yours.

[tavina-writes]

i want to share salt. have you ever had a ship that annoyed you so much it starts poisoning other ships you could have potentially liked? because this is me with xiyao vs nielan. like, xiyaos are so fucking loud and proud of the fact that he sides with jgy over everybody else multiple times in ways that turn out to be incredibly hurtful. so it gets to the point i can't even enjoy cute teenage nielan art knowing xichen is going to so catastrophically fuck this up by repeatedly writing off mingjue as just imagining things and lying to him and leveraging their relationship for someone else's benefit and handing his killer the method to kill him and that people are *gleeful* about all that.

Hi Nonny!

First off, I want to offer you a hug, because this sort of feeling about fandom is never a fun thing to experience, and since you recognize that this is a salty ask, you might want nothing more than a "hey I see this and I get it in some part!"

But if you're thinking about how you might improve this situation and like, enjoy interacting with 3zun fandom again/mdzs fandom in general, I have a few ideas:

block everyone whose takes are pissing you off. There needs to be no bigger reason than "You know what, your takes are ruining this fandom experience for me" or "making me slightly more irritated than I would've been." There's no shame or like, anything wrong with this. Ultimately, we all live in this mosh pit of stuff together, and I might think everyone has a right to whatever kind of take they want, but I don't have to martyr myself on the cross of "hearing all sides" or whatever, and neither do you Nonny.

Recognizing which things are fanon and which are canon. This might help, but like, LXC doesn't, canonically, keep picking JGY at every turn. He is a flawed character with his own problems (as are they all in MDZS lol) but this is...not really what's happening? People can say what they want in their meta and their headcanons and interpretation of canon, but that doesn't make it...true.

this goes with 1 and 2 but also: if a fandom or a ship or a trope or something no longer brings you joy Nonny, there's always the opportunity to pack it up and leave it behind, either permanently or for a time. There's nothing wrong with not being "on" about a ship or fandom or recognizing that it was once something you really liked but not something you enjoy right at this very moment.

All that said, I'm personally of the opinion that there's a very loud and vocal part of the xiyao fandom (who exist on my blocklist by now) who've made me lose interest in the ship altogether, because the parts of the ship that I find most interesting -- the deceit, the almost gothic horror vibes, the slowly rotting center of their relationship when it didn't begin that way -- is obviously not what most (or what seems like most) people who ship it are looking for. And overall, I'm sure that it's no loss to not have me there, and that I (a NieYao girlie at heart) would not be welcome in that sandbox, so like, Nonny, I do get you and your frustrations. Ultimately I guess sometimes it's just easier to recognize that not all fandom spaces are welcoming and to find places that serve you better.

[bengiyo]

If It's With You Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Amane helped Ryuji study for his exams so he could avoid extra classes, all the while nursing his crush. We learned about Ryuji's sense of duty to the restaurant coming from his devotion to his deceased father, and we had a touching moment where Amane paid respects and promised to help Ryuji at the father's shrine. Amane got to share a meal with Ryuji's family and got to bask in their warmth, something he hasn't ever been able to really experience (sorry, Grandma). We left at Amane confessing that he likes Ryuji before running off.

Man, I love Ryuji so much. He's just so serious about things. I like that he's trying to put together a timeline to understand what has happened.

I love that Amane is such a menace because you can see him already sliding behind that smile and trying to ease the tension, but Ryuji hates when Amane starts to mask.

Yes, fuck school! We have gay problems to solve!

Oh fuck yes, Ryuji, my man. He is the best boy of the year holy shit. He is confused and asked Amane what he wants from the confession so he can decide what to do next. This is actually so special because we know Amane fucks. Even if this is his first romantic attraction in a long time, this is a gay boy who has ideas about male intimacy.

Amane didn't let me down! He said let's see that dick! He also has feelings!

These boys are so brave. They are facing their feelings and each other so earnestly. I don't think I could have been this forthright as a teenager.

Now, Ryuji, please share with the audience this confession you're holding.

"I never thought of dating, or being in a relationship like lovers or something like that with you... The truth is I can't imagine it. But... I myself... think that liking you might be good. I won't act like nothing happened, and it won't be like before. Now I know you like me. So... please... make it one-sided for a while," just healed something in me holy shit.

No, but Amane is so valid for being overwhelmed with feeling. Sometimes "I see you" is better than "I love you, too."

We're going on a fireworks date in three weeks!

He broke it off with his hookups but hasn't seen or heard from Ryuji in a while. That's so hard when you're a teen.

I hate being allergic to watermelon. It looks so refreshing.

Whoa, Amane has cake.

I am so curious about the Grandma.

We didn't get stood up!! I knew Ryuji wouldn't let us down!

I'm going to be thinking about this scene at the shrine for a long time. This has been an incredible year, but Ryuji is taking us places I've only wished for in the quiet of my heart.

[rainbow--skies]

I don't talk about my food allergies much on here because them being the One Thing half my classmates knew about me growing up and the excessive paranoia my parents shoved on me about them genuinely makes me hate doing so, and I also don't really PERSONALLY consider my allergies a disability (but I have no problem with other people doing so).

However I have noticed that whenever they get included in disability posts on here, it's always by people without food allergies who have barely any idea what the fuck they're talking about. So many people (including people with allergies!) are SO uninformed about how they work and it's worrying so here's some stuff I wish more people knew:

An Epi-Pen does not cure you it helps with some of the symptoms so you can get to the fucking hospital. You still need to go to the fucking hospital.

Food allergies CAN kill you- many people's are not that severe but they CAN kill you. Take them seriously please

Your little "haha people with food allergies are the weakest link" jokes are harmful and offensive and part of why so many people don't take allergies seriously. Stop it. You're not funny. Find a better joke. So many mainstream TV shows even do this it's disheartening

Many people with food allergies also have eczema (I used to when I was younger) or asthma (I don't but I know people who have both), the comorbidities are very common, but not universal

Airborne allergies are not very common at all and usually do not cause severe reactions and it's weird to me that people act like this is common (it kind of feels like excuse to isolate people with food allergies when food is being served sometimes) but if someone has said they do not want to be near their allergen at all you should respect this you do not know what someone's symptoms are

Cross contamination is also something not everyone suffers from (some people have low level allergies) but many of us do (including me) and you should not get offended if someone doesn't accept food they can't see ingredients/health info for or homemade food for that reason

You can be allergic to any food to any degree- people seem to have this weird misconception that it's just peanuts, nuts, dairy, eggs, and other more publicized foods but that's not true at all

If it's possible, ask people what they would prefer as an accommodation when food is being served PLEASE. Some of us would rather eat before, some would rather bring food, some would rather alternative options be offered or restaurants they can eat at be chosen. Some are fine sitting near people eating stuff we can't, some would rather sit in a separate space, and some would rather if the food was just not eaten when they are present at all. Myself and many others that I know actually would rather sit next to someone eating something we can't because it doesn't actually affect us to be near them if we're careful enough not to touch it than to sit at separate "allergen free" tables and such because it's a socially isolating experience, but there are people who would feel more comfortable eating away from others and this is okay too.

Many of us are only allergic to one or two things, some are allergic to a ton

There are less common types of allergies that don't follow the typical pattern of food allergies- as an example I have some allergies that come from oral allergy syndrome, which basically means that my seasonal allergies to certain types of pollen makes me slightly allergic to some fruits and vegetables too

Food allergies can sometimes randomly develop in teenagers and adults, they are not always there from birth or early childhood like many people think (though it's incredibly common for them to start that early). There is not a guarantee you will never get one but your chances are higher if your family has a history of them. Sometimes they can go away or decrease in severity over time too, though, but that does NOT happen to everybody

Lactose intolerance and Celiac Disease are not food allergies! They are separate conditions with separate symptoms and needs! Please educate yourselves about those too and not assume they are synonymous with food allergies

[imzsuzsis-blog]

———————

some night

Unfortunately, it was night and I was in a country. I groaned in pain, I didn't dare to call my childhood friends, two of them were here too. I started to tear the sheet from my muscles and moaned louder and louder, I almost screamed. I felt something underneath, my pad was still wet, I didn't bother with it, but now the problem was bigger.

"Max!!!!"

I finally pulled myself together and Siri called, just like yesterday.

”Good, Lando deep breath, you can only trudge at least to the next room. Come on!"

I reassured myself and slowly sat up, but it didn't work.

"No, don't stay lying down. I think labor has started."

"Lily, Pietra?"

I took air as both mother and Savanna said, through the nose and out the mouth. I tried to concentrate, but it didn't work.

“UGH!!!! It's getting stronger. Would you call me or take me to the nearest hospital? Please!?"

"If you focus on the pain, it will hurt you and distract you."

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I tried to look the other way, but it didn't work, no seriously.

"Help me, at least let me sit on the ball."

“Yes of course."

"Thanks, babe. The thing is, I think they are parents. But I don't want to give birth to the girls here, but let's say, uh... In the district hospital..."

"Yes, we understand, but how do you say it now, let's say you're physically a boy and I would believe that they would admit you there."

"I understand...Jesus!!! It hurts even more, I'm about to fall apart!!!! At least!!!! A midwife or midwife could see how big it is… WOW!!!! My dilation!!!!”

I felt almost pass out from the ball it hurts so much.

"He brought a midwife, a nurse here now!!!"

———————-

last night

Okay, Lando tells me everything in bulk, fast, fighting and sobbing, nonsensically.

"I understand you had a caesarean section and the girls were born prematurely."

He was shaking, like all weekend he didn't say how big they were, but pointed out in horror that they were tiny and that they were still in the hospital.

"Lando, don't show, but tell, you brats... Trust them, we won't eat you or them."

"I'm sure, but it won't work."

I sobbed and fell into Carlos's neck, my lips trembled and I didn't even dare to kiss because it was just a stupid kiss between me and Fony.

"I'm sorry, but the kiss doesn't work yet, Carlos... They're on my mind a lot, and it's not that I'm looking for a new love right now."

"No problem, we were just two stupid teenagers and nothing more."

I kissed my forehead, he grabbed the back of my neck and leaned close to me, licked his upper lip, took deep breaths and almost kissed me.

“What are you waiting for?"

"I don't know"

I caressed him hair on the back, I didn't dare to kiss him, he didn't go, I sobbed inside, not just outside, I was afraid of what would happen if one of them died.

"I'm afraid that... What will happen if one of them dies... They are very small... They are too lovable."

I licked the bottom of my lips, then the top, my teeth didn't work, but finally he stepped in and kissed me in front of everyone.

"Carlos?"

"Alex?"

"You kissed him, Lando?"

"Yes, he's very cute and he kisses you like that."

"It doesn't matter, it just comforted me because I'm spoiled."

"I read both of them, I can't believe what you're going through mentally, Lando."

I snapped at Alex and slapped him and ran away sobbing.

"You were a jerk."

"Not at all."

"Lando, are you waiting?"

He was standing by the wall, still shaking and sobbing, it was too much for him, he walked over to me slowly and hugged me.

I watched as Carlos and Lando froze, rumors were spreading that they were having dinner somewhere, deep in thought. Just one thing...

"Fucking behind my back???"

"What Oscar? What are you shy about again?”

I almost licked the lip balm off my lips. While he came closer and closer to us and caressed our faces erotically, he even kissed us.

"The Hungarian one is a bitch, but I would love to kiss Fony."

"Stupid bisexual bastard, those were hormones, I had no intention of doing it!!! That's why I fucking hate you!!!"

I held my mouth and with my unstable nervous system I started sobbing again, but now I was also vomiting.

—————————

a few nights before

I was lying stiffly in bed, I couldn't believe my ears. Lando was hospitalized at 27 weeks, something could be very wrong. I turned to my side and looked out the dark window...

"Fuck, I have to go out"

I groaned half sleepily and looked at my cell phone.

———————————-

in hospital

I looked at my girlfriend who said.

"Two girls are already out."

I couldn't believe that the doctors could work so quickly. According to Pietra, I can't see him resting yet.

“What happened?"

"They said placental abruption in one case, and in the other it was a placenta attached to the front."

"But at least they cried?"

"Max for you in this... Let's keep it quiet, but yes."

"Yes..."

"Well, you're not complete even in this situation... Of course not... a 35 cm baby and a 36 cm baby..."

"Where, where are they?"

"Beyond a glass wall. Not only do they need to gain a little weight."

"Glass wall? Is this some kind of fairy tale?”

I blinked a lot, thinking which pinker balloon for the moment was the very pink one, or the even pinker one...

—————————-

27 weeks earlier (reality)

Lando didn't notice, but he kicked me hard in his sleep. I have no idea what he dreamed. But he has mentioned several times that she wants a baby before she turns thirty. How if he's a boy and so am I... I quickly picked up his top, which he had kicked off in the heat of sex, from the ground and put it between us. But he continued…

"Lando please stop it hurts."

I shook him up and he looked at me with trembling eyes and hugged me.

“What's wrong? Your pregnancy dream again? Won't that be a bit much?”

"But, you know, I talk too much about this to you and my psychologist... Thanks to which they came back."

"How long have you been coming back?"

He doesn't even say…

“Wait.”

I picked up my cell phone, my heart broke and I couldn't go on the weekend, Carlos got better.

“Yes thank you." ,,What's the problem?"

"They said no, Carlos is better, he wants to go and he can."

—————————————-

Roughly 27 or 28 weeks late

I was sitting at my "dili" doctor, that is, I was only in the waiting room with my head down. I am 27 or 28 weeks pregnant with the delusion that I am pregnant. But it was also a topic for a while that Loki was my partner, or that I had Stockholm syndrome, or that I was dating Oscar. That's when I hate myself and blurt out all the bullshit to all the sports reporters in the world because that's the only way I feel better.

“MR Norris..”

“Yes?”

I looked up trembling, I thought I was going to throw up again, I really can't take it all. I want to go on vacation, party and have a good boy by my side. Ollie lasted two weeks when I told him, I have schizophrenia and it involves a lot of care and supervision.

"Sir, tell me."

"I say I'm a mess and one of the medicines even makes me tired."

“Vacation?"

"I don't know if this continues, I'll be stuck here. I can't go anywhere and I won't be able to find a good guy."

"Well, let's talk about this new delusion of mine... That you're gay."

The thing that stopped me was that I always knew I was gay, this is bullshit, even though it's my problem that I can't understand a homophobic doctor.

"Well, I'm not going to listen to this anymore, sorry, madam. But I'm really gay. I told the truth all along that I wanted to have a boyfriend. Not dating. Goodbye"

I stood up and started a group call with the "Dillinyos" of the field, they all said they were here, let's go to a fast food restaurant, they had already caught this bitch.

"I know, I know that I was fucking joking, but... I have schizophrenia."

In front of the restaurant, I snapped my fingertips together and cried.

,,No, more paranoid? Stupid turns. You can imagine that I'm afraid of you in the races."

"Shut up Max, these are two separate things, bastard!!!"

"What made you so damn smart George? Huh?”

"He's absolutely right... Because in the competition you would have needed two calls to win and not one... You would have had to be a genius to do that... Yes, now you've screwed it up."

“Shut up Daniel!!!! Yes, I already realized during the competition that I missed it."

"Don't fight, Lando told our little group the secret. At least let's respect that, boys."

We went to him, but he couldn't even look at us, he just backed away, we don't know why.

"Lando?"

"Carlos, I kissed you, you."

"You know that's not true, we're just friends."

He was shaking and shaking his head very violently, then he covered his ears and started screaming and yelling, they didn't understand what was wrong.

"Child, does anyone know what to do?"

Before our eyes, they started behaving violently with him and started dragging him against his will.

"Leave them alone!!!"

"It did not turn out that he was not taking one of the medicines."

"It's impossible when it comes to this, Lando is precise."

By the time we said it, he was in the ambulance and we could already hear the siren.

[denim-mixtapes]

Showstopper - The Christmas Special

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Word Count: 7.1k Summary: It's Christmas break and you're headed to Hawkins to spend it with Eddie, now your boyfriend. Over the first few days of break, you get to meet his uncle Wayne and learn more about his history, and enjoy the holiday so much more than you ever would have if you went to your own family's celebration. You agreed on no presents, but that doesn't mean he can't unwrap you on Christmas Eve. Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT, Minors DNI or I’ll put coal in your stocking. Brief mentions of tense family dynamics, VERY brief mentions of death in Eddie's past, Wayne being the best parent around, cute holiday fluff, but then also -- oral (f & m receiving), rough oral sex/face fucking, face sitting, 69 position, VERY very brief mention of anal play in passing like blink and you miss it, a stupid amount of pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, sweet thing) instead of y/n. I think that covers it but don't hesitate to lemme know if I missed something!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [AO3] -- Part 4 COMING SOON

A/N: Sorry that this took literally forever but also I'm not going to apologize TOO much because I'm trying really hard to not be so hard on myself about deadlines. Anyway, split this into two parts to get it posted quicker, so keep an eye out for the New Year half of the holiday special sometime soon! Thanks for your patience and sticking with me! <;3 <3

The offer for you to stay in Hawkins for Christmas came as naturally to Eddie as the lyrics to his favorite song, he hadn’t even realized it slipped past his lips until you were staring at him incredulously. 

“What?” He asks through a chuckle, fingers stilling where he was once scratching between your shoulder blades, soothing you after a call from home. 

Dropping your head back into your hands with a groan, you reply, “I can’t do that, Eddie.”

His voice is warm, devoid of judgment when he simply asks, “why not? I went to your hometown for Thanksgiving.” 

You can’t help but laugh, sitting up from your hunched position to lean heavily on his shoulder and look at him through your lashes, the slightest pout on your lips. He would deny it if anyone asked him, but he thought the purse of your lips and concern-etched brow only made you that much more endearing. 

“We weren’t actually a couple then, though,” you sigh. With a curious look, he silently urges you to continue, still not seeing the problem you are. “Last I checked, you don’t go home to spend the holidays with your boyfriend’s family after literally less than one month of dating,” you press, “I couldn’t intrude like that, it’s your time with Wayne.” 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your crown, placing a kiss in the very same spot before pulling back to fix you with a hard stare. “You clearly don’t want to go home over the break, and I don’t blame you after seeing how they make you feel first hand. I don’t blame you at all. And I see that old fart every day, Christmas is no different. It wouldn’t be an intrusion, hell, he’s been practically begging me to bring you ‘round so he can meet you,” 

You swear you can feel your chest start to crack open at the thought of Eddie talking about you to his Uncle. It’s a sentiment that might have been obvious or inevitable, but still one that tugs at your heart strings and further deepens the pinch between your brow and the sentimental look on your face. 

“You’re sure?” You ask quietly. 

“Positive.” 

So it was decided. You’ve been officially dating for three weeks and are about to spend your second holiday together. It would be a lie if you said you were surprised, Eddie has never really been one for traditions or societal convention after all.

Robin is thrilled when you tell her, insisting that the both of you make an appearance at her family’s big New Year party, and Steve even makes a point to suggest a few things the four of you (and their gaggle of teenage friends) can do over the course of the week. It seems like everyone is excited that you’ll be spending the Holidays in Hawkins. 

Well, almost everyone. 

“What do you mean you won’t be making it!?” 

You can feel your mother’s rage through the phone, as much as she tries to conceal it. You’re already shaking, twirling the phone cord around your fingers nervously, fidgeting. 

“Exactly what it sounds like,” you sigh, “I won’t be coming home for the holidays, I’ll be spending the break in Indiana with Eddie and his family. It’s only fair, we visited you for Thanksgiving, and considering how well that went, I’m assuming he wouldn’t be welcome back.” The silence on the other line is deafening. “Exactly. So I’ll be going somewhere where we’re both welcome.” 

“Honey you know we would love to have you, I don’t want you to think–”

“The decision has been made, Mom.” 

“Well,” She sputters, trying to find some way to convince you to come…alone. “What do you expect us to do with all your gifts? Return them?” 

“I guess?” You can’t stop the comment from coming out as a laugh. “It’ll save me the trip to the return counter at the mall, myself.” 

She manages to get out half of a scoff before you’re slamming the phone back onto the receiver, hands balling into fists at your sides. 

From her side of the room, Robin shoots you a sympathetic look, closing the textbook she was studying and shuffling to the edge of her bed. “That bad, huh?” 

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. Desperate for a distraction, you thrust your thumb toward the door. “You still got some shopping to finish up? Want to tag along to the mall?” 

With a signature Robin Buckley toothy smile, she hops off the elevated bed with a thump. “Thought you’d never ask.”

— 

You’ve been at it for hours, traipsing the overcrowded holly jolly halls of a shopping mall during the holiday season, arms weighted down with shopping bags that contained some presents, but mostly gifts for yourselves. Robin is happily slurping on the Icee you’re sharing, while you break off bits of the world’s biggest pretzel and pop them into your mouth. 

All in all, it’s been a successful day. You managed to snag a couple of records that Eddie was having trouble getting his hands on, as well as a new strap and a couple packs of strings for his Warlock. You agreed on no presents, since your relationship was so fresh, but you had the feeling he was going to break the rules just as much as you have, so you somehow keep finding little things here and there to add to the gift. Robin crossed off the last name on her list, her dad, with a fancy bar tool set and a too-expensive bottle of scotch scored with a fake ID. In the same store, you plucked a middle shelf bottle of whiskey from the wall of names, hoping it would make do as a host gift for Wayne. Based on Eddie’s description of the man, you figured it would do just fine, especially when you pair it with a nice insulated flannel. You even managed to sneak away from Robin for just a few minutes to purchase her gift in secret, a book that she picked up and put down several times, debating on if she should buy it for herself or not. You made the decision for her. 

You’ve just fed her a bit of pretzel, causing both of you to burst into a fit of giggles, when she mumbles around the bite, “any other stops?” 

“No, no, I think I’ve spent more than enough money today,” you laugh, steering both of you around a corner and down a corridor that you hope leads back to the parking lot. 

Halfway back to the exit, you pass a Spencer Gifts window display that catches your eye. It’s awful, cheesy as hell, and you’re honestly surprised it’s allowed to be displayed so plainly to the public. Under two neon signs labeled “nice” and “naughty” are two mannequins dressed in scant lingerie. The nice set is Santa themed, all bright red fabric and faux fur trim, with a neat little bow and one jingle bell dangling between the cups. The naughty stops you in your tracks, black, strappy, mesh, downright salacious. 

Robin notices your abrupt stop and follows your line of sight, another laugh bubbling behind her words, “you wanna go in there, don’t you?” 

“I– yes…shut up. I’ll be quick.” 

—

Unlike the drive to your hometown last month, the drive to Hawkins is quick and pleasant. Back seat was loaded down heavily with gifts and a larger suitcase than the last time. You take it a little slower, but the half hour still beats four hours any day. Also unlike last time, you’re making this trip alone. 

Without Eddie there to distract you with conversation, you’re allowed more time for your mind to wander, to race with anxiety. Your fingers tap at the steering wheel, stomach doing flips as you think about the ten days ahead of you. Excitement and nerves battle it out to be your dominant emotion. On one hand, you’re more than excited to get some time with Eddie, uninterrupted by your class schedule or work, looking forward to surprising him with your gifts and seeing him in his natural habitat, meeting his uncle. On the other, you’re scared shitless that with all this access to you, forced to spend ten days in a row together, cooped up in his little hometown…well you’re not worried you'll get tired of each other. You’re convinced you’ll never tire of Eddie Munson. What you’re really worried about is that all that time together could burst the content little bubble you’ve been in, that he might realize you’re not all that exciting at the end of the day. You’re worried he’ll get tired of you. 

Stop. 

You scold yourself for thinking like that as you pull into Forest Hills Trailer Park, gravel crunching under your tires when you roll to a stop in front of the Munson trailer. Gathering as much as you can carry into your arms, you make your way to knock on the door.

When Eddie answers, you’re a sight to behold. Nothing more than a forehead behind a stack of colorfully wrapped boxes, your line of sight obscured by the frilly bow on top of Wayne’s gift. 

“So much for no gifts,” he chides, ducking down to scoop the mess of presents from your grip. Once he’s sure he has a good handle on them, he ducks to kiss your cheek in greeting and then clumsily leads you inside. “Leave the rest,” he urges, “I’ll go get it once I set Santa’s entire workshop under the tree.”

Your cheeks heat at his tease, looking down at your shoes as you mumble, “it isn’t that much.” 

Eddie responds with a hearty laugh, full and genuine, and it blooms more confidence in your chest. When you look up, you see that the ‘tree’ isn’t much more than a string of garland wrapped around a coat rack, but there are handmade and sentimental ornaments strung from it proudly. He dusts off his hands animatedly and turns to you with a proud smile, “I know, I know, but we did say no gifts.” 

The only response you give is a glare toward one of the boxes that was already there, wrapped in butcher paper and labeled with a bold scrawl of your name in permanent marker.

“Only two of those are for you,” you finally say, biting back a laugh at your lie, “okay, three.” 

“Good thing I managed to shove more than one thing in that poorly wrapped box, then.” He makes his way around the pile of gifts and comes to a stop in front of you, finally properly greeting you. With both hands on your cheeks he kisses you fully, an eager, hungry little thing that’s fit to say hello after a few days apart. “Hi.” 

“Hi honey,” you smile into his lips. 

“‘M glad you’re here.” 

—

It’s not until the next morning, the 23rd, that you end up meeting Wayne. 

When you wake, Eddie is still sound asleep and looking at the time you expect him to still be out for at least another hour or so, but the light filtering in through the threadbare curtains is bright enough to rouse you and you know you won’t be able to fall back asleep, so you carefully get out of bed and tiptoe out into the main room of the trailer. 

Once the door is closed tightly behind you in an attempt to muffle any sounds you may make, you begin your search through the cabinets to find coffee and filters. It takes a few moments, but eventually you find them and set the pot to start brewing, perusing the many mugs hanging from the wall while you wait. You pick one blind, a participation trophy from some bowling league in ‘78, and are about to pour yourself a cup when the trailer door rattles open, making you jump. 

Wayne Munson is exactly what you pictured, a tall, tired looking man with sparse salt and pepper hair, white scruff in need of a trim, dressed in work rags and toting a soot stained lunchbox that he drops on the tiny kitchen counter when he enters. His flat features soften as soon as he notices you in the kitchen, his exhaustion melting away into a kind smile. His eyes sparkle just like Eddie’s when he does. 

“Sorry, kiddo,” he says, voice rough with age and a years-long smoking habit. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You must be the girl that’s been taking up all of Ed’s time lately.” He reaches out a hand to shake yours, which you happily accept and offer him your name. Using your handshake as an anchor he pulls you toward him to pat your shoulder affectionately, a kind of half-hug that isn’t much of an embrace. It’s clear he’s a hugger, but realized halfway through that he shouldn’t overstep. Softer now that you’re close, he jokes, “thanks for taking him off my hands.” 

“‘Course,” you laugh, leaning into the charade, “you owe me, though. He’s a handful.” 

“Don’t I know it.”

You point to the coffee pot with raised brows, silently offering him a cup, even though it’s his coffee and you’re in his house.

The man thinks for a long moment, “you know I should be gettin’ to sleep, it’s been a long night…but what the hell. Can’t pass up the opportunity to talk about my nephew with you while he can’t defend himself, right?” 

So you pour him a cup and you chat.

The pair of you spend the better part of an hour talking. He shows an interest in you, asks about school, about what you’re studying and how you and Robin are faring in the dorms and living off of cafeteria food. Eventually the conversation turns toward you and Eddie. Apparently, the boy couldn’t shut up about you, and for quite some time before the infamous Thanksgiving trip. Wayne seemed reluctant to divulge the information, but it came out too easily. You clearly make his kid happy and he just can’t stop himself from asking how he ‘finally locked you down.’ (His words, not yours.) You consider telling him the story you manufactured for your own family, the one about your first date at the Hideout and how you’ve been together for some time now, but there’s signs of life in the bedroom and the door is creaking open.

A slow smile cracks onto your face when you catch sight of Eddie, still soft with sleep and eyes half closed.  

“We’ll have to tell you the full story later,” you say to Wayne, though your gaze is trained only on Eddie. “It’s a wild one.” 

“Yeah, old man, isn’t it past your bedtime?” Eddie jokes from his spot leaning on the counter. Nodding toward the bedroom once more he adds, “c’mon baby, get dressed in something warm, we’ve got plans today.” 

—

“This is stupid, this is fucking stupid, this is so dumb!!”

You’re surrounded by raucous laughter, both of Eddie’s hands clutched tightly in your own as he leads you across the frozen pond on wobbly legs. You’re both giggling, barely even moving, and Robin and Dustin are loudly contributing to the ruckus, their laughter the loudest as she skates circles around you and Dustin trails slowly behind. 

“C’mon, you just gotta trust me,” Eddie insists, unable to hide the jest in his voice. “I won’t let you fall, I swear!” 

For someone so rough around the edges, Eddie is surprisingly nimble on skates. He’s patient with you as you get more sure footing beneath you, leading you around the perimeter of the pond a couple more times. You’re starting to get more confident on your feet when Robin blows by you again, shouting hello to the rest of the teenagers that just arrived, and throws you off your balance, sending you tumbling toward the ground. 

A chill runs up your spine, icy water soaking through your gloves and the seat of your pants when you land with a soft “oof.” Unsure of whether you’re more hurt from the fall or embarrassed that it happened, in the end the only thing that takes over is another weak laugh of disbelief that it happened at all.

“Whoa, hey there–” Eddie comes to a stop in front of you, his own laughter soft and unsure, he wants to make sure you’re okay before fully busting out. You wave off his concern and allow him to help you back up. “How about we take a break from this,” he suggests through his continued fit of giggles, “c’mon.” He leads you slowly over to the small collection of picnic tables, and when you’re firmly in place on one of the benches, tells you to stay put. 

You take in your surroundings as he retreats. It really is a scene ripped right from a Christmas movie. The pond itself is naturally occuring, jagged and lopsided shoreline frozen over in the Indiana winter, but it’s surrounded by food carts and temporary structures. There’s a tent for skate rental, a coffee and cocoa truck surrounded by picnic tables, and even one of the large evergreen trees surrounding the pond is decorated with lights and ornaments for the holiday. It’s bustling with life, small children on wobbly legs (most of them doing better than you had been) lead their parents across the pond happily, a group of carolers walks by serenading you with Joy to the World, and across the way, you spot Robin and Steve with the kids. Steve is play-fighting with one of them you don’t recognize, a feisty redhead giving him a run for his money, as they walk toward you. 

Eddie returns from the skate rental quickly with your shoes tucked under his arm and two festive, steaming paper cups in his hands. Offering you one, he sits on the bench beside you. You take the drink happily, but wrap your hands around his own on the cup so tight that he can’t pull away. 

“What’re you up to, Sweetheart?” He breathes, leaning forward on the bench to kiss your cold nose. You don’t let him go far, chasing his lips for a real kiss, humming contentedly when he doesn’t resist. 

“Nothin’,'' A cheeky smile, another hurried kiss. “Your fingers are freezing. Just tryin’ to keep you warm.” 

“You sure you’re not just trying to hold my hand?” 

You gasp, all drama and playfulness, snatching your cup of cocoa away and leaving his hand hanging in the cold. “I would never.” 

He fixes you with an honest-to-God pout and there’s something on the tip of the tongue when he’s cut off with a shout from the group. 

“Quit making eyes at your girl, Munson!” Dustin shouts, hurling a snowball your way. It misses, narrowly, and lands with a splat on the plastic covered picnic table. “Come on!” 

Eddie’s nose wrinkles in the way that it does when he’s trying to force down a smile, and he leans in toward you to knock your forehead with his own. “My girl,” he mumbles, his voice thick and warm with emotion. 

It’s not the first time he or anyone has referred to you as such, but that doesn’t stop it from making your heart race anyway. Any time Eddie refers to you as his has you grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on,” you urge, then kiss the apple of his cheek affectionately. “Go have fun, I’ll hang out here where I’m not a danger to myself.” 

It’s with another dramatic, smacking kiss that he makes his exit, skating away with a little too much finesse – even for him. You watch him circle his younger friends, taunting them with a wide smile and a boisterous laugh. He tugs on the girl’s braid, lunging away with exaggerated fear when she reaches for him in retaliation, throws handfuls of loose snow at Mike and Dustin, cowers behind Steve when they try to get him back. He’s happy here, in his element, and it starts to make a little more sense how he got on so well with your younger cousins back at Thanksgiving. 

You’re so enraptured watching him gently bully his friends that you don’t notice Robin joining you on the bench until she speaks up. 

“I like this look on you.” She hums, a shit-eating smirk on her usually delicate face, “it suits you.” 

In the distance, Eddie has wrestled Dustin off the pond, the two of them squabbling in the snow banks surrounding it. The sight of his joyous smile warms you from the inside out, your chest tingling with it when you try to hide your smile behind another sip of your cocoa. “What look is that?” You finally snark back, reaching out a hand to wiggle your pink-tipped fingers sarcastically, “the Michelin Man coat? Or the frostbite from wet gloves?” 

“No,” bumping your shoulder with hers, she just grins. “Happy.” 

Shoving at her, you hope that the bite of the cold outside has turned your cheeks red enough already, hiding your furious blush at her comment. “Shut up.” 

Denying it is easy, trying to save face in front of your friend’s blatant told-you-so face, but she’s right. You’re happy.

So happy it wells up in your chest and eeks out your tear ducts. Luckily this time you can blame it on the cold as you round everyone up to head back to the warmth of the trailer. 

—

You wake on Christmas Eve to warm lips caressing your forehead and the weight of Eddie’s palm on your hip. You grumble, curling further into his embrace to shield your eyes from the light filtering in the curtain, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you snug against him. 

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs into your hair. “Wayne’s home, we gotta do Christmas.” 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you pull away from his embrace to fix him with a confused stare. “Did I sleep through the whole 24th?” 

His responding chuckle is thick and fond, lashes kissing with the force of his smile, and he shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, but we do celebrate early in this house.” 

You hum thoughtfully in response, cuddling further into his hold, nosing sleepily at his collarbone and pressing soft kisses to the skin there. “Jus’ wanna stay in bed,” you mumble, breath damp against his skin, eyes drooping. 

Eddie’s hand trails up and down the side of your waist, bunching up your sleep shirt in its wake, fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them, squeezing at the round of your hip before making its way back up. “Suppose we could stay a little while longer.” 

Both of you are quiet for a few moments, the only sounds in the room are your slow, even breaths and the tick of a clock on the wall. Eddie starts to think you may have fallen asleep again when you ask, “why Christmas Eve?” It’s soft, devoid of judgment and keenly curious. Just another question you ask solely for the purpose of learning about him, and the sound of it makes him giddy. 

His fingers brush through your hair gently, pushing a lock of it away from your face and behind your ear before he answers. “It’s just always been that way, I guess,” he huffs, shuffling down the bed so that you’re face to face, eyes heavy with sleep and the weight of the memories he’s about to share. “Ever since my old man got locked up, my mom and I came here for Christmas Eve, back then Wayne worked at a job that didn’t close for Christmas, and he always took advantage of the double time on Christmas Day. But we had to celebrate together somehow, she always said Christmas was for families and that Wayne was the best we had. Didn’t know how true that was till we lost her.” His voice tightens as he recounts the tale, and you want to tell him he doesn’t have to share, not if it’s hard, but he pushes on so you choose to soothe him instead. With a hand on his cheek, you lean up to kiss the wrinkle that’s deepening between his brows, hoping that all his worries go with it when it flattens away. Still, his eyes shine with the hint of tears as he continues, despite the soft smile that your act evokes. “When I came to live with him, he said it didn’t feel right to change the tradition, so it just kinda…stuck. So now our Christmas morning is on the 24th when he gets home from work. It’s a little odd but it’s what we know, I dunno…I guess it’s kind of stupid.” 

“Never!” You scold. Your angry brow and harsh tone is a dizzying contrast to the gentle caress of your thumb against the soft skin of his cheek, and he revels in the comfort, letting his eyes drift shut and leaning into your touch. “It’s not stupid at all, it’s a part of your story, a part of you.” You wait for him to look at you again before you tack on a soft, “thank you for sharing it with me.” 

The peace that takes over his face is the best gift you could ask for. 

Eventually, Wayne comes knocking, saying you have to get the show on the road before he falls asleep after such a long night. You and Eddie join him in the living room, still dressed in sleep clothes and messy hair, Wayne still in his greasy coveralls and work boots. With fresh cups of coffee, he passes around a flask of brandy while Eddie distributes presents and winks when you nervously accept Wayne’s offer. 

It’s refreshing, getting to spend this holiday in such a comfortable, relaxed state. All smiles and laughs, warmth, memories being made. Spending time with the Munsons makes your family holidays feel sterile in comparison, everyone dressed in church clothes, gift giving for the sake of showing off. You can’t remember the last Christmas that you enjoyed being at, but this beats it by far. Eddie’s hand seldom leaves you, always touching, always seeking contact with the swell of your thigh or the small of your back. Even when opening his gifts, he shifted closer to you on the couch so that your shoulders were touching. 

He glares at you each time he opens one of yours, his upturned lips betraying the false anger he’s trying to portray, following each present with sarcastic commentary about how nice of a gift it might have been if you agreed to give gifts. He also follows each one with a quick stolen kiss and a quiet word of thanks murmured so only you can hear. 

You spend the day just like that. Laughing in the living room, cheeks warm from the liquor and from your boyfriend’s flattery, passing around snacks and a polaroid instant camera wasting too much film. Eventually sleep comes for Wayne while you’re watching It’s a Wonderful Life, and you and Eddie sneak away to the bedroom to give him some privacy. 

Later, long after the excitement died down and Wayne had gone to work, you’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch with your feet tucked up under Eddie’s thighs for warmth. He has one hand resting on your calf, thumb distractedly stroking at the soft flannel of your pajama pants, the other holds open a well-loved and worn book that he hasn’t glanced at in about an hour. The trailer is quiet except for Black Christmas playing low on the TV and the sounds of traffic on the main road. You wiggle your toes to get his attention, but only offer a cheeky smile when he looks up at you. 

 “What’s that look for?” He asks, dog-earing the book and tossing it to the floor. His own expression mirrors yours, playful, knowing. 

“You have one more present to unwrap, I was waiting ‘till it got later to give it to you.” 

“Oh really?” He asks, lips stretching taut in a sinister smile. He can tell you’re up to no good, he can hear it in the honey of your voice, feel it in the warmth of your gaze. Making a point to look around, playing dumb as he searches the open room, he turns back to you and ducks his head ever so slightly to fix you with a dark stare. “I don’t see anything else. Where might this last present be?” 

Turning on the couch to stand up, you reach into the pile of torn wrapping paper on the floor that has yet to be cleaned up and produce a discarded sticky bow, placing it on the top of your head. Biting your lip, you can’t stop the mischievous giggle that follows as the boy’s eyes widen infinitesimally and you start to make your way to his bedroom.  

He crosses the room quickly, catching up to you as soon as you cross the threshold and wrapping you up in his arms from behind, his chin hooked over your shoulder. “Fuck all the other shit,” he mumbles against your skin between sloppy, eager presses of his lips, “this is the only gift I need.” 

You lean into his embrace with a soft, pleased sound and grab at the hands around your waist until they loosen just enough for you to turn and face him. 

“How do you know?” You tease, toying with the stretched out collar of his tee shirt, teasing at the skin just below it. “You haven’t even unwrapped it yet.” 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, words hushed against the column of your throat, “if you wanted me to undress you so badly all you had to do was ask.” His fingers are cold against your hips when he pulls at the hem of your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sight of what’s underneath stops him in his tracks, stepping back to admire you. He scrubs a hand through his hair, scrunching it in his fist as he takes in the sight, chincy red lace and faux fur trim, black straps and bows tying it all together. Your pants sit low on your hips, revealing just enough of the matching panties. There’s a groan deep in his chest, a low, rumbling sound that he tries to swallow, but fails. Reaching out, his hold lands in the dip of your waist, smoothing it’s way up your ribs to stroke his thumb against one perking nipple. You shudder at the action, at the sheer size of his hand covering your breast, lip bitten and arms tucked behind you in anticipation. “You buy this just for me?” 

“Depends,” you simper, reaching out for his chest, stroking broadly up the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, up and around the collar to twirl your fingers in the hair at his nape. With a bitten lip and coy smile, you ask, “have you been naughty or nice?” 

His eyes darken as you walk him the rest of the way to his bed, his breath ragged in anticipation. When his knees hit the mattress, knocking him back into a seated position, he swallows thickly and looks up at you – wide, wanting eyes, an excitement shining in them that sends heat straight to your core. His voice is unbelievably low, gravely when he admits, “now we both know you already know the answer to that.” He smirks and leans back on his palms, spreading his legs even further with the action, the tent in his pants even more obvious. “Do I get to see the rest?”

Nibbling on the inside of your lip, you break into a wider smile and push at the elastic waist of your pants, turning and bending at the waist dramatically if only to savor the sharp breath that comes from your boyfriend when he catches a glimpse of the last surprise you’re hiding – the open crotch of the panties. Eddie swears behind you and you can’t help but let out a mischievous giggle before turning back to him. He’s basking in the sight in front of him, skin flushed, dropped to his elbows for a better view, hands balled into fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out and touching. Your heart pounds, salivating as you sink to your knees between his spread legs. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this feeling, the sheer excitement, anticipation of being with Eddie, no matter how many times it’s happened before. The sight of his cock tenting his soft sleep pants makes you lick your lips, eager to taste him, to feel his weight heavy on your tongue. 

Running your hands up and down his thighs, closer, closer, closer to where he wants to feel you most before backing away with a sly smile, you can feel the muscles tensing beneath your palms. The air around you is hot, sticky with anticipation as you lick your lips and finally reach for his clothed erection, stroking, squeezing gently, savoring the satisfied groan that the action draws from him. 

“Y’look so pretty like this,” you breathe, dipping your hand into his waistband to take his cock in your hand and give an experimental pump. You’re not so certain that most guys would enjoy being called pretty at all, let alone in this position, but god it’s true. The overhead light shines through his hair like a halo and the way his eyes shine down at you, deep chocolate and honey and want swirling together, perfect plush lips parted just slightly around another soft, pleased sound…he really is a sight. If the comment offends, he doesn’t let on. In fact you’re certain you can see him flush even further at your words, a pretty pink dusting across his porcelain features, you’ll never get enough. Tugging on the waist of his pants with your free hand, you rid him of them, stroking the length of him all the while. One of his hands flies to your hair, bunching in it possessively as you lean in to suckle on just the tip and run your tongue along the slit, moaning at the taste as you collect the drop of precum you find there on your tongue. Releasing him with a satisfied hum and a teasing kitten lick at the ridge of his cockhead, you grin again, sighing dreamily, “been thinking of this all afternoon, y’know.” 

“Yeah?” He grunts, twisting your hair thoughtlessly, wrapping the bulk of it around his hand and tugging, the sting of it drawing a whimper from deep within your chest. “‘S that why you’ve been so distracted? Been daydreaming about sucking me off?”

You don’t respond verbally, just give a coy little nod before licking a deliberate path along the vein on the underside, following with broad, wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down each side of his shaft. You try to get him as messy as possible, wet from every angle with your tongue before taking him as deep into your mouth as you can. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he huffs, hips stuttering up off the bed briefly, forcing himself further into your throat and shit if he didn’t love the little choking noise it drew from you. You breathe deep through your nose, swallowing back your gag reflex until your nose presses against his pelvis, tickled by the hem of his shirt. He holds you there for a moment before using your hair as an anchor to pull you off his dick. He releases you, hand falling from the back of your head to stroke your throat, featherlight touches of his fingertips against your windpipe as you heave in a breath, licking your bottom lip. “Where’ve you been hiding this talent, huh?” 

It’s your turn to blush, suddenly shy as if his cock wasn’t just buried to the hilt in your throat. Still you reach out to continue to stroke him as you answer, “I’ve been practicing.” 

Your admission punches the air from his lungs with a wrecked sound, his eyes blown wide and darkening even further as you lean in to take him back into your mouth. He mumbles praise as you work at a steady, almost teasing pace, tells you how pretty you look with your mouth full around another deep, longing moan. As much as he enjoys the sight in front of him, he can’t help but let his mind wander. 

I’ve been practicing. 

He pictures you alone in your dorm, eyes fluttered shut, concentration and a little bit of pleasure set in your brow as you toy with your clit, two fingers of your other hand stuffed in your mouth, training your gag reflex. Did it turn you on, choking and gagging on your own fingers? Did you imagine they were his, or even his cock? Did you stop with just your fingers? You’d admitted to having toys before, and ain’t that another intriguing thought. Fuck. His touch remains on your throat, never constricting, never controlling, but he can feel himself in your throat as you take him all the way to the hilt again and it’s maddening. 

You’re lost in how vocal he is, every moan and groan and swear going straight to your neglected core, and you can’t take it any more. You reach one hand below you to swipe your fingers through your dripping folds, whimpering around Eddie’s cock at the relief when you circle your clit. Not too much, not yet. Just something to take the edge off, but then you pull back to catch a breath and the combination of your absence and the touch-starved whine you let out breaks Eddie from his daydream. 

“Aw, baby,” he croons, stroking your cheek much too gently for the position you’re in. His tone is a little teasing, pitying, but his smile is bright as the sun. “It’s turning you on so much just sucking my cock that you gotta play with that pretty pussy while you do? Gimme your hand.” He holds out his hand expectantly, and you’re torn. You only just got some sweet relief from your pent up tension, only just parted your lower lips to tease two fingers at your entrance and you don’t want to stop now, but he’s looking at you expectantly and you can’t deny him. As soon as you withdraw your fingers from your cunt and hold out your hand, he’s gripping your wrist and guiding those same fingers into his mouth with a groan. He licks you clean, tongue swirling around your digits greedily until he can no longer taste your juices on your fingers and then gives your arm a gentle tug, prompting you to stand up. He sheds his shirt quickly and scoots up the bed, a shit eating grin on his face. “C’mere, I got a solution.” 

Though you roll your eyes at his phrasing, you’re more than eager to comply when he settles back into the mattress and beckons you toward him. Crawling up the bed, you lean forward on your elbows to drop a chaste kiss on his lips before turning around to swing a leg over his shoulder, hovering over his mouth, and this is new. He’s eaten you out plenty of times before, and this isn’t even the first time you’ve sat on his face, but this angle? This angle is something new entirely. He wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his mouth fully, angling your hips into a more comfortable position before he dives in eagerly. His lazy stubble drags rough against the insides of your thighs, fingers press bruising marks into the meat of them, and as he laps at your bundle of nerves, the tip of his nose teases at your entrance from the angle. 

Not one to be outdone, you lay across his stomach, hips still pressing back against his tongue, and take his cock back into your mouth. You share a unison groan, the vibrations from his voice sending a shockwave through your core, but you’re quick to retaliate by taking him deep in your throat again. You work his shaft at a steady pace, quicker now, and he fucks his tongue into you rapidly, the thick muscle stroking your inner walls in a maddening way. You can feel everything from this new angle. As his tongue works at your weeping hole, his chin bumps your clit erratically, and as you grind back into his efforts you can even feel the point of his nose nudging lightly at your asshole, the new sensation enough to make you clench your walls desperately. 

He stops making out with your cunt briefly, pulling back just enough for his lips to brush against your folds as sings your praises, “Jesus Christ, sweet thing…takin’ me so well. Fuck, just like that,” his voice is strained, sounds just about as desperate as you feel, and he interrupts himself with a choked sound when you gag around his length once more.

It’s a blur from there, a mess of wanton cries and stuttering of hips. Too much sensation, the ever growing tension in your stomach, you’re lost in the feeling of his mouth on your cunt and you stop moving to let him fuck up into your mouth on his own accord, until he’s burying himself deep in your throat and coming. Hot, thick ropes of cum burst in your throat and you swallow as much as you can with a heady moan. The loud, animalistic shout that he releases as he comes triggers your own release, vibrating against your clit deliciously, spreading through your abdomen and down your shaky legs. Eddie continues lapping at your folds hungrily, working you through your aftershocks, holding you in place against him with a firm grip on your thighs until you’re gasping at the overstimulation and twitching away from his ministrations. 

With one last affectionate squeeze to your plush hips, he chuckles in good humor and helps lift you off of his face. “Damn, baby,” he sighs as you slot yourself into his side and tangle your legs with his own. A soft, dopey smile takes over his face, eyelids heavy and head resting back against his headboard, and he kisses you again, deep and slow and reaching into your very existence. It’s a kiss that you can feel everywhere, your toes curl, scalp tingles, and there’s something deep in your stomach tugging you close, closer, you need to be closer. You can taste yourselves on each other’s tongues and the thought of it has you whimpering into his mouth again. He breaks the kiss with another dark laugh, nudging the tip of his nose to yours, back and forth as he catches his breath. “Merry Christmas, Princess.” 

Your voice is ripe with affection when you kiss the height of his cheekbone and reply, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 39 - The Love Killer

AKA the yandere dogboy episode. Yippie!

I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE. To bring back the meme:

God won't let me die...

The translation is not finished because I do not give a fuck, but here is where I stopped. I doubt anyone else will give a fuck either, considering it's just a keysmash.

He's never beating those japanese-coded allegations.

Silly aprons are a family tradition.

I wonder if this is where Kerubim lived considering he, like... didn't have a house. Or a family.

Oh my god, the shitty magical merchant guy had a shitty magical merchant mom.

I see claws on a catboy and my brain turns off. Kill me.

You can't be talking like that, Ouginak baby. Btw the can says "fish".

KERUBIM LIKES TO COOK. SEE? I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU. He's an Amaknean boy, like Yugo. And he's cooking crepes!

Though, he's... bad at it.

Presented without commentary.

Do not be making that face while in the same litter box as Keke, oh god.

Ecaflips use litterboxes confirmed.

UNDERAGE DRINKING REAL.

I bet Kerubim is the one who buys bamboo milk for the gang. He can probably pass for a very short ecaflip man, instead of a teenage boy.

People reading my blog talking about it be like: this is scary, downright creepy.

Also, whatever I imagine happened between Kerubim and Atcham is also scary. Even downright creepy.

The Astrubian lake tower, my beloved.

Somehow, despite being a boy, Kerubim has managed to have two evil adolescent girl friendships that end in your friend (who is a tar pit) sending you messages saying that she will "kill you with a knife" the next time she sees you at school. (One with Patafiks, and another with his literal brother.) This too, is feminism.

I like to think that while in the orphanage, he had to break up like this with Atcham too. Like "I know we're brothers, but um. uh. I don't want to be seen with you anymore. I mean—— you get beat up constantly, and people hate you, and then they hate me when you're nearby. Which is a bummer. Also you threaten everyone too much after they beat you up, and it's stressful. And I can't take it anymore... We can still be friends though,, haha."

I like to think Atcham's response was "I AM GOING TO KILL MYSSSELF AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT." or something. I like to imagine he had that ~mentally ill child~ style flair for the dramatic at that age. I like to think they were both awful to one another.

Another thing I like to think to myself, is that Atcham got kicked from the orphanage and ended up in Brakmar, and the reason he got kicked out is stabbing someone. Perhaps Keke, during some argument, — or perhaps someone else, in retaliation to whatever bullying he was going through. And that Kerubim was scared shitless of him by the end.

I just think it's a fun thought.

Basically, if that Ruby girl, Patafiks, and Atcham smoked weed together in a Bad Mentally Ill Bitches Obsessed With Revenge Club, Pangaea would reform.

Since this is already an Atcham headcanon heavy blogpost, I will say, I think using The Love Killer on Atcham would have fixed his every single problem.

Sadly, Kerubim has spent his entire life under the impression that Atcham actually hates him, whereas in actuality, whatever the fuck is happening, is 20 times funnier.

After a single minute of prodding by Joris he switches to therapyspeak and goes "well i need SOMEONE to be mad at. it's like a coping mechanism. if i need to be mad at something, it might as well be kerubim. because he's there. 😥"

It's interesting that with Patafiks and his ecaflip friends it took a second for them to hate him enough to cut all ties.

It's also interesting that this doesn't happen to Simone: Julie and her were on a bad date, but they were on it for a long time. And, Kerubim and Joris were haters for her, but all they could manage is some cleaning complaints.

Basically: Perhaps it can't ruin bonds that are very deep or genuine as fast? An enchantment meant to test the sincerity of a bond, gone awry? Or maybe I'm reading too much into this.

Flash frame!

As I've said in the previous blogposts: I really do think that Kerubim has a crush on Simone. Not in any creepy way — she's just the type of woman he's always liked, — headstrong and stylish, like Lou!

It's very cute. I am a big fan of friendships with one-sided crushes in media, especially when it's not awkward, or pointed out often, (the only exception being Dipper's whole Wendy-shtick in Gravity Falls. I think it was a pretty cool portrayal of the concept, despite being awkward), — because that's a very human thing that we can't really control, y'know?

It makes their friendship much more wholesome to me, personally.

Man. I love this show. And this silly old man. Even though he did fuck up superbly with the whole raising Joris thing.

[24anonymus2002]

please read through.

Anorexia is a difficult thing to deal with. Difficult, in reality, is an understatement. It's a horrible, twisted thing that everyone faces. But please. Justifying anorexia won't help. Listen, I too once obsessed with how I looked. I too starved myself. The lengths we go to for beauty is obscene. And let me tell you right now, you're gorgeous. Boy, girl, whoever you are, you're perfect just the way you are. You eyes, your lips, your nose, your body, cherish everything. From me to you, I want you to be strong. I want you to understand the severity of this. There is nothing that's okay with stripping your body of the nutrients needed. Doing this will result in your body slowly dying. Your hair slowly shedding, your teeth and your organs failing to function. I beg of you to realise that starving yourself won't make you 'pretty'. You're killing yourself. Beauty doesn't lie within the body soley, I realised. Life's too short to focus on my body. Recovery will take long. But when you do, realise that we live one life, one life to indulge in things while we can. Let me restate, anorexia is NOT okay. I know, eating is a 'bad' thing to you, and trust me, it isn't. But realise that this can also affect others. There are those who are slowly becoming anorexic, and posts like these won't help. Anorexia isn't something to glorify. It is a full blown disorder. Again, I beg of you to grasp the understanding of that. So far this post has been a little messy, I'll try to put this more organised. Anorexia -

/ˌanəˈrɛksɪə/

noun

an eating disorder characterized by restriction of food intake leading to low body weight, typically accompanied by intense fear of gaining weight and disturbed perception of body weight and image See, now if you look up the definition of anorexia, it states it is an eating disorder. Not a method to be the 'best' of yourself, but a disorder. It hurts when someone tells you you have a disorder. Denial is an obvious choice when someone tells you this. You defend this. You defend the choice to starve yourself. And let me tell you, there is nothing to defend here, love. You're hurting. But this, this is making you hurt you even more. I'll tell you this as many times as I want to, but you are beautiful. You may think, "you don't even know what I look like." I might not. I might not, but I know you are. Whoever, or whatever hurt you and made you think you were never good enough, fuck them. I tell you wholeheartedly, you, as long as you love yourself, will be the most beautiful person in the whole wide world. Your body does not define who you are. Society is ugly. The standards are unreal and toxic. There is absolutely no need to try to fit into the standards. It's not you that's the problem, it's society. The standards change every year, with society's indecisiveness taking a toll on many children, teenagers and adults. In the end, your body is perfectly fine. Ignore everyone else. Understanding that not eating takes a toll on your body too. It destroys your mental health, but I want you to be aware of the consequences too. Without eating, you will die. You might not die now, but you will die faster. "We'll die in the end anyways." Yes, we will. A brutal reality. But listen, if you die earlier, you miss out on a whole lot of experiences. You'll miss out on all the sights, all the adventures, all the relationships that could grow. And things may seem pretty shit right now, and it might continue to be like that for a long time, but trust me when I say it'll be okay. Push through it. Rest. Restricting what you eat is restricting yourself from many things. Please, please, please understand that your organs will stop working slowly, your teeth won't be as strong as they are now, and your bones will become frail. 'Beauty' isn't worth this. Mental health matters. No matter your body shape, your appearance, you are the most stunning person in my eyes. In the end, I'm proud of you for coming this far. I want you to try to heal. I want you to realise the dangers of this. See a counsellor, or talk to someone you trust. Do whatever will help you out of this hell shaken disorder. I'm so so so proud of you. And I love you for trying to change for the better of your health. Remember to stay hydrated, and try to eat well, slowly, and at your pace.

Love you again,

anonymus

[vdragon-creations]

I am sorry but I don’t think you understand Raph’s character at all if you just think he’s the angry one always starting things. He’s way more complex than that and you being incredibly close minded. If you can’t see past his flaws like you can the others I feel sorry for you. You probably think Leo is flawless and can do no wrong.

Hahaha! Bruh, we got a live one here! This folks is a prime example of how folks can no longer read on the internet without either getting pissy without thinking or automatically jump to the worst conclusion about a person. All because someone out there doesn't like a fictional character the same way you do.

(Now I see why you took the time to ask this anonymously. Coward.)

Firstly, it's you're instead of you. I know you're mad, but maybe slow down a bit.

Secondly, you're actively blind if you think I said that Raph is always starting things. My exact words where "I feel like Raph tends to start them". The key word being "tends". Meaning not always, but a good amount of the time. And I feel like you're basically ignoring a lot of cases where Raph actively make things a problem when they weren't, or when there IS a problem, he just gets pissy instead of like....idk talking. (And I feel like you're actively ignoring that he's legitimately characterized to be the "Do first ask later type" in most versions! Hell, his 84 version is incredibly violent! Do you just....not know that or??? And they changed that in the 87 version where he's more sarcastic then angry. Again, something I mentioned in my Raph post.)

And way to go, assuming you know a damn thing about me! Cause guess what, I'm aware Raph is more complex. In my Leo post, I talked a little bit about how I related a lot to Leo because of the role I was forced to play as a kid. But the thing I didn't mention was that...I also relate to Raph quite a bit. I had massive anger issues growing up too. And they where due to a lot of reasons. But the two biggest ones where:

I didn't understand quite how to deal with situations were I wasn't being listened to or taken seriously.

I cared a lot about those around me, and when I felt they didn't care back, it made me feel a way.

TWO THINGS THAT I KNOW RAPH FELT IN SEVERAL VERSIONS TOO! Doesn't mean he was right to act the way he did. But he's a teenager, and I was a child. I can look past all of that. But, can't erase the fact that he could and did act like a complete shitter in a lot of situations without really...any good reasons. And it got them into some deep shit.

But, I can see that he owns up to most of it too, and apologizes when he's gone too far. I had to learn to do the same. And I will commend him for that.

And as for the Leo thing, again just proves you didn't read what I said once more in my Raph post. I outright stated "Leo does seem to be making the worse choices in those arguments (Glares at Bayverse Leo)" I'm aware he's not flawless! For fuck sake, in 2003 (Season 4), Bayverse Out of The Shadows, TMNT 2007, and in fucking RISE, Leo could be a REAL piece of work! And I feel, just like with Raph, things could've worked out a lot better if they had just....talked!

And I'm more then capable of seeing the flaws of all my favs and can still like them despite there flaws! And the opposite could be said for characters I'm not as jazzed about. Like with Raph. I'm more then capable of seeing past his flaws and can see why people like him. Don't mean I gotta tho.

All I said in my Raph post was that I don't really like him and never really have. I don't hate him, just don't like him. I saw a part of him that reminded me of some of the worst parts of myself growing up, and it can rub me the wrong way when the shows just don't let him show off his more softer side and grow as a character. (A fault of the writers you dipshit, not the character itself! He's not real so he can't actively change if writers don't let him.) And after all of this, I wouldn't wanna see him gone from the series, cause without the whole team, the TMNT fall apart.

But you saw that I don't like Raph, and immediately jumped to calling me "Closed minded" and making some pretty, gunna be honest, closed minded assumptions about how I must view a fictional character over another. Well, says more about you then it does me in the end!

Have a nice day.

[ghostbc-headcanons]

HI, I saw the ask about papas in fantasy books and I found myself thinking...how would every papa react to seeing a s/o who really likes rpg and is trying to explain how the d&d system works or is running a session for example . I have very bad english, this is not my first language, sorry :(

anon don't worry your english is great!! i'd be happy to fulfill this request for you :)

PAPAS W/A D&D OBSESSED S/O

PAPA NIHIL: is possibly the most confused out of all of them but will smile and nod and listen as best he can! i think he would appreciate the storytelling but there's just Too Much stuff to keep track of for him. but he would be very curious about like, custom homebrewed (i think that's the term for it) campaigns. ("could you make one about lucifer? would that be possible?")

PAPA I: admires your enthusiasm! though he doesn't know as much about D&D specifically, he's enjoyed fantasy as a genre since he was a child, growing up with the hobbit and lord of the rings. he's an incredibly patient man, having no problem asking questions about things he may not understand, and is always happy to indulge in your interests. though he may not enjoy playing D&D as much as he'd enjoy writing campaigns, he would be honored to play with you regardless!!

PAPA II: he's never been as into fantasy as his older brother, so initially while he's not dismissive, you can tell he's not super interested by the concept. that is until, you get into the battle and RPG elements. holy shit, you've never seen him be this excited about anything ever??? you convince him (more like he convinces you) to join your next campaign, and he comes up with his own character and everything! he likes the math and the development of characters a lot and after you finish the session for the day, he tells you not to tell terzo about this because, in his words, he'd be crucified. you're just happy to share D&D with him

PAPA III: is definitely a little overwhelmed and confused by the whole idea, but he's the kind of person to always try something at least once to see if he likes it! especially considering it's so important to you. like primo, he loves how happy you get just talking about it, so of course after you explain everything, he'd love to join your campaign if you ask! you just... might need to take things a little slower with him, what with his short as fuck attention span LOL. i think he'd make playing D&D a hoot, honestly. he'd be flirting with all the characters (and you)

PAPA IV/COPIA: dude. this guy fucking LOVES D&D are you shitting me??? you don't have to explain jackshit to him because he actually might know more than you. he's played it since he was a teenager!! when he finds out you like it as well, you don't think he's ever been more ecstatic - not many others in the church were ever as enthusiastic about it as he was. he jokes that you two are like a fantasy-loving match made in heaven :)

[turnertable]

can I say something controversial after we just got done celebrating miles and Alex reuniting?

I think Milex is a cute ship, it is, they are an adorable pair. their chemistry is very sweet and they are like soulmates you can tell, be that platonic or not in y'alls opinions. I personally don't ship it (always been a mattlex girly myself, platonically talking). I do feel at times y'all do focus on the wrong thing with Miles and Alex. some of you lot love defending Miles and how he doesn't deserve to just be associated with Alex but please and I beg you, tell me truthfully you know Miles from his solo work and not from TLSP. there's few of us, I think Miles is great and his music is good, I saw him before AM live FFS but no I wouldn't know Miles without Alex. It's just a thing that will always exist and it's unfortunate I know but it's true. I also think documenting and cherry picking at specific moments that have literally no correlation at all to milex romantic moments and making them oddly sexual is fucking odd. like I'll give you the d, I wish you would: that's an innuendo, that's funny and you can make that sexual cuz they did. they act like an old married couple at times. the lentils joke about their bad habits for example, it's cute and domestic. it's fic material. I understand that, trust me but like sometimes they are just on coke and giggling like little boys over like bringing bread and crumpets to the studio and that's not an allegory for fucking each other (an actual real post someone made). please it's odd and fetishism of two men who are straight. I understand that being gay is still a taboo subject for some people from more oppressive countries and maybe at 14 when you found AM, milex was your first introduction to shipping culture and men being shipped together, that would be exciting to you. However the nuances of that is that it can cross a line to a degree where you aren't respecting the two real people. I was in the Dan and Phil fandom before they came out and we had an era called 2012 where Dan especially was on the defense constantly to a point where it was a taboo to us to talk about but through time, that defense became more empathetic with them coming out. we all grew up and that behaviour from when we were kids was not ok anymore and that frustration was valid. I have many straight friends who have felt that pressure to be part of the LGBT community in order to not be shamed and on the flip side, I don't even need to tell you how hard it is still for lgbtqia people to want to hide in the closet with all the problems we still as a society have to face.

what I'm trying to say is, these are straight men and it's ok for straight men to be affectionate with their friends, I know it may still be frowned upon in some cultures but we wouldn't have am without a close bond between the lads. we wouldn't have TLSP without miles and Alex being best friends. i don't think milex is wrong, plz do what you want, draw your porn art if you want, write fics upon fics but plz just think about why this makes you so happy and understand the true consequences on what you say because you could be upsetting the gay community around you by being elated that miles can kiss his friend on the cheek. let boys love each other platonically or not, it doesn't matter. If Alex or Miles came out tomorrow, I'd support them, it's just something to think about.

Plus it's ok for teenagers and younger people to see what the boys do and want that, that's valid and I hope you have fun. There's a point where you may realise that something you said was a kid that you don't agree with and that's part of growing up, I know (hence the dnp rant). I see this now as an adult and think of that as crossing a line by prying at someone's sexuality cuz that's not mine to know and I don't know that person in real life. However if you are like a long time monkeys fan in your late 20s, early 30s, please consider what you're doing and re-evaluate what this means to you because maybe it's not just Alex and Miles that make you feel this way and that's not healthy: that's a parasocial relationship you've held for so long you don't know any different.

[lilisouless]

Hello, love <3

First of all, I want you to know that You. Are. Not. Alone.

I've felt like how you feel for most of my teenage years, (I still do sometimes, because life is hard), and I know that it doesn't feel like you have support. That no one understands you and you're left alone in the darkness. You are not, I promise.

I wanted to kill myself, too. I was going through life as an empty shell of a human, trying not to cave under all the pressure of just being alive. I felt like no one would care if I was gone, or that I wasn't important. But that's not true. And it isn't for you, either. You deserve to live.

There's no one like you out there, there's only one of you, and you're perfect like you are.

Su*cide is not the answer. Because you don't deserve that. You deserve a life full of love and joy, and although that may seem impossible as of right now, I promise you that you will have it one day.

I feel like a failure, too. I never finished 9th grade and got kicked out of high-school because I didn't attend due to mental and physical conditions. I'm dependent on my family, I would never be able to get a job without qualifications.

I don't know why you feel like you've failed, but it will get better. And I know that that's hard to believe right now, but it does.

You're not a failure, the path you take is just different from others. Yours has hills and valleys and bumps in the road, and maybe isn't smooth and straight ahead like you want it to be, but you will get through it.

And if you even need one reason to stay, I'll be that reason. I smile everytime I see your blog. I have no fucking idea what's going on with Shadow and Bone, but I enjoy your posts whole-heartedly.

You are loved. I'm telling you all of this from the bottom of my heart, because when I felt like this I would've needed something like this.

I hope you feel better soon. I'll try and check in with you, if you want that.

Just don't take your life. It's too precious. You are too precious.

Life is fucking hard, and it can be miserable. But I'm telling you that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

It won't just happen immediately, you need to heal, and that takes time.

But you will heal, I promise.

I strongly believe that you can survive this.

You're stronger than you think. You're still here after all.

You can always reach out to me for whatever reason. You're not fighting this alone.

My words might not mean much, but I just want you to know that there's someone out there who knows what you feel like.

Stay strong, okay? <3

Hello, i know this has been in draft for a long while already , since its been weeks since my breakdown. I didn't awnser because i didn't want to give a half heartfelt short anwser, i needed time for finishing the problem, the job that made me had this deppresive episode. It´s already done so i finally have time to respond, i did saw them back then btw, just wanted to read the whole think without having a second breakdown in reminder of the first one (like, right now i am fine and i am close to tear up)

First all , thanks for taking time for all that. Don't know if it matters but i am not a teen, actually my depression started at 19 more or less, started to live with it on my twenties, i had an hormonal inbalance and was getting controlled but hit back again. Just wanted to clarify because i am realizing maybe i am acting like an inmature teen.

The words do matter, specially since, being strangers on the internet, its the only thing we can do, so i really appreciate it. I am not in danger, the most that happened that one time was that i tried to call a suicide hotline, no one reponded but i made a step and talked my mom about it, talking my problems out loud made me see there weren't that bad. Still, thanks for taking your time to talk to me❤

[jaymerblogsnonsense]

The grind is preponed now

I just realize how awful I am at math, so I guess I'm starting this Monday. The problem with math is that I sorta hate it. And I don't get a lot of motive to do it anyways. And I don't wanna bug my friends a lot. So I decided to start a blog to express these emotions even if nobody will want to see it. It's gives me that motive to do stuff. I hate how I keep changing the major things I'm planning on doing in my life so quickly, but this is the time to plan. To stick to it, will be a challenge, so that's why I'm trying to make the best plan I can. And try to continue this for the rest of my education. It's so weird doing it now, as a stupid teen who's idiotic, and a fucking annoying piece of shit who can't just shut the fuck up at the absolute best. But, I've wanted to changing things for the better for a long time, and I guess now is the time. But for some fucking reason, shit like this never goes to plan because i get distracted all the time. I think I've got something, I dunno, maybe ADHD or something, I don't wanna make assumptions, despite how I did so just now, and I want to talk to a professional, but my parents are coming from a culture in which, people who are mentally ill or have a brain condition are disappointments or will always end up being a failure in life, and plus, the fact that our mental health system never fixes shit, so I'm sorta fucked for life. Maybe this will go to shit, but I guess it's better to have something you tried to do going to shit, ending up feeling awful in the utter fact that whatever you do or don't do never helps you in life, no matter how hard you want things to go right, it never does. I have some hope, even if that hope is a lie, it should lead to something, right? I hate feeling like an idiot among all of my friend who have like As in all of their subjects, and great at school. While I suck at it. I feel stupid, and I think I'll still be stupid. But, oh well, at least I can say that I tried, and that'll satisfy people. I can't seem to focus for some reason, and it gets really fucking annoying. Maybe it's something, or I'm just actually a fucking idiot, and all I do is wallow in self-pity, and I'll be destined to forever and ever. But, maybe I can change that, despite how much i keep telling myself it won't and how fucking hopeless my life is, and all I'll end up as is either a statistic in teenage suicide, a basement dweller, or a cashier at target. I don't know, my own brain fucking loathes me, and tries to fuck with me at every turn and it doesn't stop. I wish it would, but it never does. I fucking hate myself, and my life. I hate every living moment of my life and it always seems like I'll never amount to anything. I wish I had someone who didn't say "you're saying BS, you're lazy, you're dramatic, you just need to stop hating yourself". HOW? HOW? TELL ME FUCKING HOW!? I just need someone who could tell me everything is okay, even if it doesn't seem so.

Oh well, I guess it's nice to vent out these feelings, and posting updates could help me motivate myself. Maybe it won't go wrong. I sure hope everything is okay, because even I don't think it is.

[phantomraeken]

Okay to awnser @elisastales question!

1) I don't think it's rude but I'm very open about my IED struggles!

2) For the broad question:

I think Liam's anger is definitely accurate, especially the way it acts with his werewolf side. I personally have a bunch of disorders on top of my IED so my experience with the aftermath may be a LOT different. But im often exhausted, over stimulated, and just sad after having a rage attack. So I think the aftermaths could have been built on a lot more but aside from that I see no other issues.

Okay, I lied. When Stiles made the comment of "You're an IED?" He probably should have gotten more defensive. Any time someone comments on my anger I get defensive and pissed off, I've talked to another person with IED and he said he gets defensive about it also! It's not the most enjoyable thing to get told.

On that note, he'd probably also get mad at Brett's comments, even if subtle, on his anger. I also HC Brett to have IED and of course he'd make jokes on it and they'd have that mutual understanding. But for me even if we both share the problem I don't want comments / jokes made on it.

Another thing is a lot, and I mean a lot, of people with IED pick up on others anger, even before that person can. I've been sitting around another friend and she was mad due to exhaustion but couldn't fully feel her anger due to all her emotions being a fucking mess. I picked up on it and just got angry at the smallest things. At first most can't even tell what their angry at. Just that they're angry.

Overall I think they dulled Liam's anger down due to it being directed at people who don't know what it is. And at the time what Teen Wolf was being aired on.

3) as for how other characters reacted.

Iirc a lot of them tried to defend his actions with the fact that he has IED, that is a gross thing, don't do it. Defending your actions with a mental disorder you have is not okay. I think they used it as a barrier.

Theo also used his IED as a way to use him. Make him angry and he'll fight / kill anything in his track which is also gross, don't do that either. As someone who has had someone use my anger to defend them its also a horrible feeling once you realize and you feel like a monster.

To add to above, a lot of people with IED feel that they are a monster cause they can't control their anger. Fun fact for the people who don't know; IED is also a type of bomb so a lot of pwople who haven't studied / don't know what it is associate people with that. So it makes us feel like were destructive.

Tangent aside, I think Scott tried his best to tell Liam that this disorder didn't effect the way he looked at him, at all. A lot of the characters followed what Scott said, even if they were off put by this opinion. They all tried their best to understand him even if it was a confusing and painful, both physically from his anger assaults and breakdowns and mentally due to the way he took it out on others, not knowing a healthier coping mechanism, ride.

I feel if Liam had met Jackson and Erica he'd probably have a much better time with hid anger. Erica would reassure him that he's not a monster and his anger is truly a gift. Even if he doesn't think so. Jackson because he found healthy ways to control and let his anger out when we put the unhealthy ones aside. He really just needed people who understood what he was going through and how to help him.

I also feel Deaton could have helped him with his anger cause of how he's helped every other werewolf through something. He's like everyone's dad and Liam really needed that from someone aside from Scott, a teenager who was still new to the whole alpha thing.

I think the whole thing with anchors helped a lot after he learned what his was and how to use it to hold his anger in a much better place. I personally have one kinda?? mine is mainly a way to ground myself. Mine is my family, partners, friends, and my cat! Mainly my step brother, Kent.

~

I hope this helped everyone who needed a moee in depth opinion on IED representation in Liam.

(I didn't spell check so please be forgiving)