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#it made reading the book so so much fun!!!
drchucktingle · 1 day
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sometimes buds ask’ what is it like to be a neurodivergent artist?’ and this is great summary: the charts can look like this, and at same time people will be endlessly posting on how you are ‘not real’ or ‘a bit’. you can hold bestsellers in slot 1 to 4 and still not be 'serious'
i am ultimately ok with this. i love my trot and would not have it any other way, but i think it is worth investigation. when irony poisoning has seeped into everything, how many times does a neurodivergent person have to say ‘actually this is NOT so bad its good. its just good’
when you are autistic, or queer, or both, how much proof do you need to be considered good art? or good business? what do the charts have to look like for me to be a ‘real’ author? or allowed my face mask at a library association conference? or one person not a group of writers?
im coming up on a decade of writing tinglers soon, and people are still talkin about my ‘serious’ works vs my ‘joke books’ and at every turn, as kindly as i can, i shout from the rooftops: THEY ARE ALL SERIOUS BOOKS. THIS IS NOT A BIT.
but its hard when buds have had ‘the correct way to be a writer. the correct way to be an artist. the COOL way to react to a book that is TOO weird’ pounded into their heads by internet culture. 'kill it with fire' they say. 'i need eye bleach' they say without thinking. a line.
heres the thing, the tide IS turning. theres buckaroos jumping in and saying, ‘I want to be a part of this’ and for that they are being rewarded. the publisher who took me seriously is lookin pretty dang good right now with these charts and these sales. i am honored and moved
over time there will be more buds who shed that irony mask. the tide of sincerity is powerful, and the tide of love is inevitable. it is difficult to stand strong in our uniqueness but it also pays off, and I hope to be a shining example. eventually THE TIMELINE BENDS TO YOU
so this is not a thread to complain. i have been trotting long enough that these things do not really bother me. being made fun of and disparaged as ‘not legit art’ while also being objectively successful at the things im made fun of about is kind of the ocean that i swim in.
no. my point of this is to say THANK YOU to those of you who have been trotting by my side over these years. THANK YOU for proving love to me. im so honored by your support, and you should know that YOU have seen beyond the irony poisoned veil that stops many others. YOU get it.
and to those with their own unique perspective on creation: look what you can do. yes there will likely be a lot of resistance to something different, but there is also a LOT of reward. YOU can trot a new path. YOU can prove love is real, not in MY way, but IN YOUR OWN WAY
anyway thank you for reading buckaroos. thank you for your support. LUCKY DAY comes out next summer and it is probably as FAR OUT and existential as the tingleverse has ever gone. you can preorder it here
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nosyrobin · 3 days
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BATBOYS WITH READER WHO’S NONVERBAL:
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DICK:
He understands if you’re nonverbal due to a traumatic experience, it’s common really. But let’s say you’re mute? Then honestly he will go and teach himself sign language so he can communicate with you better. Maybe he already learnt sign language, maybe not. But still, he wants to “hear” what you have in mind
JASON:
Just reads to you, point at any book and he’s reading it to you until you both or one of y’all passes out. Imagine you just sit there silently in the dark waiting for Jason after a patrol. In the dark. And he comes home to see his partner/roommate just smiling with a “welcome home” sign jokingly as you already made him dinner. You wrote to him to just heat it up while you start his shower
TIM:
Sometimes surprisingly falls asleep to your silent presence as you run circles across his back. Calming his nerves as he passes out at his work desk in his room. You have to drag his body from the computer as he snore, it’s terrible with how much he’s physically bigger than you. But no fear as you put him to bed and lay with him.
DAMIAN:
He just enjoys your silence, it’s comforting to him. Plus he doesn’t have anyone yapping off in his ear so that’s a plus one for his likability towards you. If someone dares to make fun of your nonverbal state, you better hope to god Damian doesn’t pounce on them like a raging bull.
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letorip · 23 hours
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can you write something short and fluffy :( like jenna or wednesday being tired or something
j's lullaby
"darlin' i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to"
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pairing: jenna ortega x reader
summary: jenna comes home incredibly late and can't wait to collapse into your arms after a long day
warnings: nada, entirely just fluff and comforting someone's exhaustion
word count: 1.2k
A/N: sorry for getting to this now, it was requested months and months ago. feels good to write something sweet for once, and without somewhere to branch off to. i like writing my stories, but it's fun to leave so much up to the reader. maybe i'll do more of these.
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Even from inside the warmth of your apartment, it was impossible to be unaware of the raging storm outside. You could hear the pattering of raindrops upon the stucco roof in small thuds that had faded gently into the background a good thirty minutes ago and given no indication of letting up anytime soon, either.
Not that it would have mattered. You stood in the kitchen with the kettle going on the stove, attempting to read a rather enthralling chapter of your book in the dim, warm light that hung over your microwave, and then rereading it for a third or fourth time when the words became an unintelligible mess in your head, whether it be from the lack of light or sluggish ability to think.
It was a little too late to turn the kitchen light on, not that you were a big fan of the overhead light, but it would've brought a crude harshness to the drowsiness you were attempting to fight off.
Even night owls had their limitations. Sleep snuck up on you at the wispy edges, pulling down on your eyelashes. The clock on your microwave ticked to 4:28, and you turned the page in your book, hearing the kettle's whistle begin to take frequency, one you were sure the neighbours could hear.
In retrospect the somewhat thin walls were the only thing imperfect about the place, with giant windows and warm, teakwood floors. That and your kitchen's tile floor being kind of cold in the morning, but even then, both you and Jenna wore socks in the house, so it wasn't much of a drawback. You would only live there for a few weeks more anyhow, before you both went back to Los Angeles. In the meantime you could cope with the plush floor rug that Natalie had sent.
With one thumb on the thin page of your beaten up novel and the rest of that hand pinning it to the countertop, you lifted the kettle gently towards your old ceramic mug with the chip in the corner and a teabag’s string hanging over the side. The hot water steamed and gently wafted over the apples of your cheeks, and it added a further weight, the room filling with a flowery smell.
As you grabbed a small spoon from the drawer, the front door’s knob audibly turned, creaking open on its hinges and letting some of the nighttime noise flood in, if only for a moment. You grinned at the noise with an excitement that would’ve been impossible to mask, stirring your drink and calling over your shoulder, down the hall. “Hey, in here.”
The door swung shut behind her and a few, tired steps later, Jenna stood in the doorway. You stayed focused on the task at hand, stirring your tea, but you could feel her eyes stay locked upon your face. She wandered over, coming up behind you where you stood and wrapping her arms around your torso, pressing the plane of her cheek against your shoulder blade.
She held you tightly, as if she wanted to melt together. “You didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s almost 5 in the morning.”
“I know I didn’t have to,” you shrugged. “I wanted to.” Her arms wrapped around you just a bit tighter, holding you there and sighing into the soft, worn fabric of your old shirt.
“I made tea,” you hummed. “Do you want any?” She shook her head into your back, almost purring in contentment.
“‘M too tired,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, you got back late,” you said, pushing the tea mug away and turning around to get a good look at her. She was beautiful, that was a given, but she also looked exhausted, with thick, dark eye bags and the tips of her dark bangs a little bit wet from the rain outside.
“Tim wanted to talk about the big scene we have coming up,” she whispered. You hummed again, watching her with a little bit of concern and she looked back at you with a fondness.
“Come on, off to bed with you,” you straightened up, holding out your hand for her to take, and grabbing your book with a finger left between the binding to hold your spot.
She rolled her eyes with a gentle huff but did not protest, letting you lead her gently into your bedroom. There were still a few candles you had lit for just in case during the storm, filling your room with a yellowish, warm glow, and you blew them out while Jenna got changed into her pyjamas.
“Oh, your mum called, by the way,” you said with a gentle smile, pulling the sheets back to sit on the edge. You pulled your woollen, thick socks off and flung them towards the far wall; you could pick them up tomorrow.
She gave you a sleepy nod, wandering towards the bathroom and sliding the door open. “Just checking in?”
“Yeah, wants you to call her tomorrow… which I guess is now today. She wants to her all about work.” You thumbed open your book while you waited for her to finish brushing her teeth, reading a few lines before she reappeared about a minute later, flicking off the light.
Jenna walked right over, pulling the sheets back and then practically collapsing on top of you, her head nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the cold edge of her nose pressing gently against the edge of your jaw, and it sent a small shiver down your spine. You put the book on your bedside table, sliding your eyeglasses off of your weary ears and stacking it on top, along with clicking the lamp off.
You would’ve planted a kiss upon her forehead, but she seemed all too comfortable for you to shift your position, and you were quite certain— though you couldn’t actually see— that her eyes were already closed and she was letting her exhaustion take over.
“I missed you, today,” she whispered.
“I missed you too.”
“Hm.” You both sat in silence for a minute, and you were convinced she had dozed off until she spoke again, even quieter than before. “Tell me about your day, love?”
“Well, let’s see,” you sighed. “Got up around 10, maybe? Did laundry—”
“Thank you for that, by the way,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face further into you.
“Mhm. Went to the shops. Made dinner. Watched that show I told you about.”
“Did you write, today?” The words were sluggish and slow, and you could tell she was lulling to sleep more and more.
“Nope,” you said with a small chuckle, and you felt Jenna smile against your neck. “I’m still waiting for that burst of creativity, y’know? I’ll find it when I find it. What about you? How was your day?”
But she didn’t answer, and you were perfectly fine with that. You could ask her in the morning, after all. And you could drink the cold tea you had completely forgotten about then, too.
short, sweet, and pretty cute. i'm happy with it. i think oneshots are incredibly fun. also calm yourself, i'm still finishing kiss with a fist [iv] i cannot stress enough how much i'm excited for it but it is NOT ready yet
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tmntxthings · 3 days
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一∑Moth to a Flame・゜・。
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author’s notes: this is my entry for @dancingdonatello ‘s competition :D this has been sm fun and I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories!!!
prompt: "You like them...more? Is that it? Am I the second choice?" "That's not true..." "Then choose me. Choose us."
warnings: angst, situation-ship, aged-up characters, college au, alcohol consumption, jealousy, yandere tendencies? cliffhanger
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Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.
~
Mutants and yokai kind alike have been out for years. So in the ‘town’ he and his brothers grew up in, they finally came to be free from the shadows. As free as heroes can be at least. They still needed to be a bit secretive on where they lived, in case of revenge-seeking villains.
But with mutants out on the surface, New York had grown accustom to them. Well, as accustom as they can be…
Donnie has met many people. He’s been able to attend college. Mostly online. But he finds the time to attend some evening classes in person. He met you. A floundering classmate in need of assistance.
Usually Donnie can find an excuse to get out of helping every poor soul that crosses his path. That’s what the professors are for. The librarians. Hell the student mentors! But with you… he just couldn’t resist.
The study sessions were long. But in the end you were able to pass, “All thanks to you Dee!!” You had cheered shoving your research paper into his face for him to appraise your passing grade. Barely passing, but it showed your improvement nonetheless.
He had been about to tease you of this. Three months of his help and you hardly grazed by?! But the thought was cut short as you pulled the papers away from his face and up you jumped.
Arms going around his neck and squealing your joy. He was frozen for a millisecond before his arms twitched into motion. His hands going around your back, holding you. That was the first time you had initiated such skin-ship.
Sure there had been the occasional touching of hands, passing laptops, books and the like back and forth. There had even been moments of playful touch, nudging his arm with your elbow for his odd choice in coffee. A tap above his glasses when he got too focused on his own work to answer your sporadic questions.
The hug didn’t last very long in terms of time. Seconds merely. But it made a lastly impression on Donnie. With the class over, you had no other reason to see him again. The prospect had Donnie fumbling to invite you out, to do anything to prolong such an ending to this blooming relationship.
“What classes are you taking next semester?” He had asked. You promised to text him the list, already having to dash off for one last exam.
He worried that would be the end.
Thankfully it wasn’t. You texted him later that evening, telling him all about the rest of your day as well as the list per his request. Unfortunately the two of you didn’t share any other classes. And it seemed unlikely for the future as well, the two of you were on diverging paths. Donnie despaired.
But you found reasons to message him. By the time the next semester rolled around the two of you were study partners, no matter the subject. Donnie would help if he could, and usually he was able. But there was a shift in the relationship. Outings to the library and other study areas changed to coffee shops. Then to your place. It only felt natural to invite you over to his.
Preparations were put in place. As were warnings “Yes, I do live in a sewer with my brothers and dad.” And “No it doesn’t reek of waste or garbage.” And “Yes there is one rat actually, my dear Papa.”
You took it all in stride. The introductions to his family went as well as they ever did. Friends. The two of you were officially friends. Donnie couldn’t be happier. With such a title he took more initiative with online contact. His messages would ramble on, sprinkled with pictures and videos.
Semesters continued to pass by and the bond between the two of you only grew. In turn, with more trips to his home, you became friends with his brothers. With April. It was just natural.
And then there was graduation. A celebration was in order. Four years, you had been in his life for four years and he couldn’t imagine it without you. The plan was to dress to the nines, and go out on the ‘town’! Drinking and dancing.
Of course, his brothers were invited as well as a few of your other friends. Donnie was no stranger to clubbing. The bar scene had become somewhat of a regular occurrence once his friendship with you was solidified.
You liked to go out. You liked music. He obliged on a few occasions to be your dancing partner and thus every time after it was his official label. Donnie was adverse to the huge crowds. It didn’t offer much room for dancing, but he’d endure it for you. With you in his arms it all seemed bearable. The music that was so loud it thumped in his plastron. The heat in the room percolating from the sheer number of bodies. Even the taste of alcohol, on the very, very rare occasion you got him to drink.
It always tasted horrible. No matter the different shots or mixed cocktails. God forbid a beer. You had pushed all sorts of these beverages on him, eyes crinkling up at him with amusement as his beak wrinkled from disgust.
Those nights with alcohol involved always ended strangely. Your touch would light him up from the inside. He’d want to hold you closer, lean in as far as you’d let him. Pull at your waist, dig his fingers into your hips during the last dance before the two of you had to part for the night. Those nights ended with kisses.
And by the next day you would never talk about them. So he didn’t either. Even as his murky memory of all other events seemed to part with clarity for how you had panted heat into his mouth. He’d flush dark green at just the thought and have to swallow the spit that pooled in his mouth.
This had happened a handful of times. The kissing. And with no communication whatsoever afterwards it put Donnie on edge. He wondered why it happened at all if you didn’t want to acknowledge the deed once it was done. He wondered about what it said on account of his own self worth for him to continue to let it happen.
To look forward to nights out. To nights you pushed a shot glass his way. To want your lips on his by the end of it all.
So with this big celebration, Donnie was expecting the same routine if only highlighted by the fact that both of you were now graduates. He’d be your dance partner. The two of you would spin for an hour or two, or however long you wanted. And he’d order himself a drink this time. One that he found slightly bearable than the rest.
Only, that wasn’t what was happening. Drink in hand? Sure. Your hand in his other? No. He was grumbling over at the bar shooting hateful daggers where you resided on the dance floor. You were dancing with Leo.
Donnie grimaced as he took a long hard sip. It was like acid in his mouth. Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.
You laughing as Leo twirled you around. How wrong it felt to watch your arms go up and around his brother’s neck. Donnie was a better dancer. He knew in his soul that he could beat Leo in any category. Waltz, disco, salsa, you name it, Donnie could dance it. But his prowess didn’t seem to matter. Which only further incensed him. Why were you doing this? How could you possibly allow Nardo to take his place? His rightful role. Donnie was supposed to be your dance partner. And the only time you were allowed to dance with another was whenever he deigned to skip such an outing.
He was here. Dressed in an aubergine suit. Jacket button undone. And his black dress shirt was unbuttoned as well. Three buttons plucked, showing off too much skin in his opinion for such a crowd. But he had been feeling flirty. Flirty for someone who wasn’t even glancing his way.
Donnie fumed once more. Cursing in his mind as he lifted his drink and threw his head back. Maybe the taste would kill him. His eyes squeezed shut as the liquid poured down his throat and he tried not to gag. Bad decision.
When his eyes reopened it couldn’t have been at a worse moment. Leo was dipping you, his face leaning dangerously close to yours, his hand snug on your waist. Leo said something in your ear.
Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the heat. But when Donnie saw your darkened cheeks, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stormed to the dance floor. Yanking Leo’s hand away from your body once you were upright.
“What’s up hermano?” Leo’s smile was grating. Donnie had to force himself not to snarl. He took your hand and pulled you after him. Leaving Leo. Leaving this place. He had to get out of here now.
“Donnie?!” You called out over the music. But you didn’t pull away. You let him lead you out of the club. Out on the sidewalk, then off to the alleyway.
“Is everything okay?” You asked once he finally stopped. When he turned to look down at you, your eyebrows were creased with worry. Lips pulled into a line. Donnie was cracking. He couldn’t do this any longer. Did you like Leo? Did you want a ‘face man’? Was he not enough anymore? Was he being replaced? The thoughts were suffocating him and he pulled you to his plastron, backing you into the building wall simultaneously.
“I’m here, but Dee you’ve gotta say something, I’m getting worried..” You mumbled into his clothes. Your arms going around Donnie’s shell, petting over his jacket. Offering him comfort. It wasn’t enough. He huffed his frustration.
“Should I go get your brother?”
It was the wrong thing to say. And this time he did snarl.
“No.”
Your hands froze. Falling back down to your sides. You’d never heard him so angry before. He couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. His displeasure written all over his face as you looked up at him.
“What’s going on?”
And Donnie remembered himself thinking that so many times with you. As you had took his breath away. And then again when you pretended like you couldn’t recall ever doing so.
“Don-“
He leaned down. Capturing your lips. Kissing you like you did to him. Only where you had made him breathless, this seemed to have the opposite effect. You puffed up. Bristling in his arms as you tried shoving him away.
It hurt.
He was much stronger than you. He could overpower you easily. But your push was like a blow to the plastron. He staggered back, all anger leaving him. A husk as he squeezed his fists shut, head hanging down as you berated him.
“What the hell was that?! Are you drunk?? Donnie what is going on? If you don’t fucking say something right now, I swear to god,”
“I don’t know!” He shouted back and it was enough to quiet you.
From there it was as if his mouth couldn’t be stopped. “I don’t know! I thought this was what we did. I didn’t hallucinate those three times you kissed me. Don’t deny it any longer!” He was heaving, face coming up to stare accusingly at you.
Your lips pressed together in a thin line.
“You kissed me! Drunkenly, but it was still there. And I can’t forget. I can’t pretend they never happened. I don’t know how you can.” His hands were in motion as he ranted. Throwing them out with the building of emotion.
“So I thought tonight would be no different. We’d get drunk. We’d dance. And we’d kiss! I want all of that. Even though I’d do it without the alcohol.” His voice cracked towards the end. But he continued to push on.
“But you danced with him. So I went and got drunk enough for the both of us.” He felt pathetic admitting this out loud. He staggered forward, unable to remain so far apart. Despite you having pushed him away. He was just a moth to your flame. He’d let himself be burnt.
“You like him more?” He asked in a voice so low it practically went unheard. His hand came up, a finger tracing down the side of your cheek.
“Is that it? Am I the second choice?” His lids lowered in time as he ran out of skin to skim. His hand fell away from your face but he had crowded you close to the wall once more. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“That’s not true.” You exasperated. But that hardly cleared up anything for him. If that was the case then what were you doing dancing with his brother and not him? Why couldn’t he kiss you? Why were the both of you still pretending to be friends?
“Then pick me. Choose me.” Donnie pleaded. He didn’t care how needy it sounded. He’d do whatever it took. Get down on his knees if he had to. Because you had become a part of his life four years ago. Four years of a presence he didn’t know he needed. Up until it was far too late. And now there was no turning back. He’d be damned if he let you get away.
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cosmerelists · 2 days
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Renarin Ranks Starting Places For New Readers of the Cosmere Series
"Renarin ranks something" requested by @themoonstonechronicler :)
Fans often argue about where new readers should start in the Cosmere: which book is the best starting place? In this list, Renarin will rank various options. Because if any character can break the fourth wall, it's either Hoid (of course) or Renarin with his funky corrupted Future Sight.
[Contains Stormlight Spoilers through Rhythm of War!]
1. Way of Kings
"Starting with Way of Kings is like jumping into a 4 versus 1 Shardblade duel armed with a sword that screams when you touch it after a lifetime of not really being allowed to train in real combat scenarios due to your blood weakness. Will you be in over your head? Yes. Might the experience harm you? Very possibly. Will Kaladin's presence save you? Absolutely. Is it a bad idea? Objectively yes. BUT does this choice make you inherently cool? I think so. At least, I have no regrets."
...
"Make that very few regrets."
"I give this an 8/10."
2. Elantris
"Listen...I get it. You want to start from the beginning. Proceed chronologically. I think my cousin Jasnah would be inclined toward this. But speaking as a 'funky time guy,' as Adolin called me once, I have to say that the past doesn't necessarily predict the future and uh...this one just might be a little tough to start with. In my opinion."
"4/10."
3. Tress of the Emerald Sea
"I think...I think I like Wit. Mostly. There was that one time he tried to make everyone think I was hooking up with, like, multiple women at once, which was...weird. But he also made fun of me. Which does not sound good, but it meant he respected me in a Wit way. In any event, this book is like sitting and listening to Wit for hours. Is it good if that is the first thing you ever do? Maybe? The little rat is cute."
"9/10."
4. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
"This one is Wit too. Just to get that out of the way. And I think it might be a little bit confusing for a first-time reader since it is clearly being told to a Rosharan, which is not something a new reader would understand."
"But on the other hand, it is maybe...refreshing to have a main character who hasn't yet realized what he's good at, and another main character who hasn't yet realized that not all aspects of her religion should restrict her as much as they do."
"So a confusing place to start, but not necessarily a bad one."
"6/10."
5. The Emperor's Soul
"This one is short! That might be good for someone who is looking for less of a commitment. Plus, it involves a lot of research into how things work, if that appeals to you. But I think the real benefit is that if someone is reading it to you, it would probably only take a few hours."
"10/10."
6. The Sunlit Man
"This book is like seeing into the future, since it is literally about the future. It's also very painful. Which, in my experience, the future often is. The future can be changed...but not in this case, because now it's written down. So I would say: start here at your own risk. On the other hand, it will probably seem less sad if you read it without any backstory. But it will make other things sadder later, trust me."
"3/10."
7. White Sand
"This one can be good if you're a man, since there are a lot of pictures. There are also a lot of words, of course, but if you're just starting out on the reading thing, then having the pictures would help a lot I'd imagine."
"6/10."
8. Warbreaker
"Speaking as someone who...well, I can't say that I deliberately make dramatic reveals, but I have been known to do things like scrawl warnings on a wall or appear suddenly from the shadows or, you know, stuff like that. So I might actually recommend reading this before you read our books, just so you can have those, 'Wait, it's YOU!' moments over and over again."
"Seriously, why did so many of those characters end up in our series?"
"I'm not answering the question, though. This one is standalone, and not too long, yet still manages to have a pretty big cast of characters and a bunch of storylines. It is like Sanderson training."
"8/10."
9. The Final Empire
"This is what everyone always tells you to do. Sometimes it can get frustrating when everyone is SO SURE that they know what's good for you, especially your dad, who won't listen when you tell him that you don't want to become an ardent even though he thinks it's the best. And you know what? In the end, I am a fighter, but also a scholar, since men can do both now. So sometimes what people say is good, but only when it happens in the way you want it to and...I think I lost the thread. Um. You can do what people tell you that you should do IF you want to. "
"If you start here, I imagine you'll like it. Sometimes what everyone tells you to do is a good idea...but only if it's what you want too."
"9/10."
10. The Alloy of Law
"Starting with Mistborn Era 2 is like bonding a corrupt spren. It's almost what everyone agrees is a good thing to do (start with Mistborn / bond a spren), only you're going about it in a...different way. But different is not necessarily bad! Yes, I have abilities that are maybe from Odium and that give me a maybe sacrilegious ability to foretell the future...but when given the chance, I immediately recommended my best friend do the same thing."
"Being different can be good. 7/10."
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olenvasynyt · 2 days
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Top 3 most controversial acotar takes/opinions, now☄️
Uh nooooo only my top three? Alrighty. These are going to be very harsh:
1. I have read the ACOTAR series at least 3 times since 2021 and I very often skim chapters every week for posts and videos. And I will be fully honest, I never want to reread the series ever again because of Feyre. I dislike her biases, her hypocrisy, her habit of ignoring other people’s POVs and the mistakes she’s made. I hate her excuses and her blindness and selfishness and how she treats everyone who is not in the IC. I hate how she treats Tamlin and Lucien. I physically cannot reread ACOWAR without flinching at all of the stuff she does, ESPECIALLY her taking down Spring out of revenge. I do not like her as an FMC and I’m glad we have moved past her story and onto other characters.
2. I think the fanbase’s hatred for Tamlin is so extreme and it is heavily influenced by Feyre’s own biases, as well as stupid memes on tiktok. If you take a second to look at the story from Tamlin’s perspective, you can easily understand his actions. With Hybern, EVERYONE FORGETS THAT 1. He was not part of the Archeron Sister’s kidnapping, that was Ianthe. It’s literally explained by Hybern in the book. And 2. He was playing as a double agent, which is hinted at many many times and it is something we later discover. I would go into it more but I feel like that’s its own post that many people have made before.
3. I don’t think SJM is the best writer. I know writers can retcon, especially in huge series like this, but she uses retconning as a crutch, and it’s very frustrating. She has so many inconsistencies and plot holes and inconveniences that personally bother me. I think her world building in ACOTAR is so flat and not thought out at all, and her magic system is even worse. Most of her villains, not just in ACOTAR but in her other series, are not that good idk. She also has a habit of the typical villain monologue that I am getting so sick of and I literally skip the part of the human queen during the Blood Rite because I think it’s so badly written 😭😂
And here’s some random ones just for fun with no to little explanation (I couldn’t do just 3 LMAO sorry)
4. ACOTAR would be better in 3rd POV limited and we can still get the mystery of the world, Feyre’s biases, etc. A lot of problems I have would be solved if we got the POVs of other characters
5. I would like Rhys so much more if he was revealed to be a villain
6. Lucien is one of the only characters I genuinely enjoy, and I’m holding out for him. If he did not exist, I would not be reading ACOTAR at all
7. The IC are awful for how they treat Nesta and I DESPISE THE “intervention” they put her through. It was not a real intervention and readers should not try to defend it in that way
8. This fanbase is filled with too many straight normies who have never experienced a fanbase before and refuse to broaden their minds and think beyond canon. Tamsand would be the most popular ship in any other fanbase. There would be more sexuality and gender headcanons. Trans headcanons, trans fanfics, m-preg fanfics, etc etc. But I guess this is a very popular fantasy romance so I get why those aren’t popular but I should not have to explain why it’s okay to ship ships that aren’t canon, and why people often insert their heteronormative fantasies in queer ships (looking at you Azris)
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For some reason I'm thinking back to my high school and college days, when I admired the goth kids and wished I could be like them but was sure I'd never be cool enough. I spent so much time going over lists of 80s postpunk bands and mandatory reading lists and being afraid to call myself goth for fear it was a name I didn't deserve. Sure, I covered myself in black lace and read vampire books and listened to Tom Waits, but how could I steal such valor?
(For the record, no gatekeepers made me do this, I did this entirely to myself.)
I eventually found myself in that subculture anyway via steampunk, a label I was more willing to use, but if I could go back, here's what I'd say:
"Chill out and have fun exploring. You like Tom Waits and Jill Tracy, right? Listen to everything you can find labeled 'dark cabaret', you'll thank me later. You like celtic music and ren faires, right? Dance around in your room to Faith and the Muse. These aren't lists of bands you need to memorize in order to use a word, they're cool things to investigate and maybe even enjoy. Read all the weird fiction you can find, it will totally blow your mind. Put on whatever silly clothing you want, if you don't like it you don't have to wear it again. This is supposed to be fun.
Also, that kid in the 'You All Laugh Because I'm Different, I Laugh Because You're All The Same' shirt? They're not too cool to want to talk to you. Just tell them you like their shirt."
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buckysgrace · 11 hours
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6. Bed on Fire
Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
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Distance between you and Steve leaves you worried until he returns with good news.
CW: Unprotected sex, public sex
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You felt lonely the next few days, going unanswered by both Steve and Patty. You didn’t even see Steve around at the mall to ask him what you had done. You had gone from seeing him everyday to not at all. You feared that he had somehow found out the truth. That this was it. 
Then again you figured that Patty would’ve said something. Unless by some sick twist of fate they had gotten back together. You shivered at that thought, not liking it one bit. 
“What are you doing, bug?” Your grandpa asked you, calling you by your former childhood nickname. You peeked your head towards him before you glanced back at the shadows coming from the sun that was dipping into your room. 
“Don’t know,” You admitted, heels still planted against the side of your wall, “I’m bored.” You told him honestly, too distracted to even try to open the books that you had gotten from the library earlier this week. Your mind kept drifting back to Steve. 
“You could help me out back.” He suggested, making you wrinkle your lips together. Being outside in the hot sun didn’t sound fun unless Steve was there to keep you company. 
“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, deciding that if you laid on the floor any longer you’d melt into the floorboards. 
“Trying to get the tractor fixed,” He muttered, looking angry suddenly. He’d spent the past three years trying to get it fixed, hoping that he could enter it into the tractor pulls at the fair, “I think I’m almost there.”
“I don’t know much about that stuff.” You admitted as you sat up slowly, thinking that it might be fun to try and read again. He chuckled at the way you tried to busy yourself suddenly. 
“Sounds like a good time to learn.” He added, taking a step back as he waited for you to follow. You sighed, deciding you might as well give it a try. Steve wouldn’t be coming by today either. 
Sweat coated the back of your neck as you worked out in the summer heat with him, your fingers covered in sludge and grease as you tried to make sense of what you were working on. You supposed you weren’t doing that bad of a job, as he hadn’t yelled at you yet. 
You made the long trek back to the porch, in desperate need for a glass of water and to scrub your hands. You wished your grandpa would’ve brought the radio out, that would’ve made it a bit more fun. 
“Steve.” You stopped in surprise, almost tripping over the old floorboard as you blinked in confusion. He was at the edge of your driveway, still bearing his work uniform. You shook your head, not quite understanding why he was here now. 
“Hey,” He smiled stiffly, forcing his hands into his pockets, “It’s been a minute.” He said awkwardly, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as you thought about demanding answers. But then you were fearful of what he knew. Of what he didn’t know. 
“Yeah,” You laughed awkwardly as you leaned against your porch, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” You told him, wondering if you should bring up how you’d tried to call him. You had even debated showing up at his house, but that seemed too desperate. 
“I’ve been busy,” He admitted, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets as he rocked himself back and forth, “I’m free now. If you are.” He added softly, having the decency to at least look ashamed of leaving you in the dark. 
“I need to wash my hands,” You held up your fingers, showing off the grease stains, “But if you give me five minutes I’ll be ready.” You told him, unable to resist the smile that formed across his lips. It made your heart flutter so intensely that you had forgotten about the past few days. All was forgiven. 
“Sure,” He nodded his head quickly, “I’ll wait here.” He added as he gestured in front of him, earning a small laugh from you before you carefully opened the door with your messy hands. 
You bounded back inside, careful to keep from trudging any grease or dirt inside of the house as you raced towards the kitchen sink. You scrubbed and scrubbed, then searched for a mirror to try and make yourself look as presentable as possible. And to freshen up a bit. You didn’t want to stink. 
All messes were left behind as you greeted him again, your hand instantly falling to his as he reached for you. Something about this just felt right. It made you nervous yet giddy at the same time. 
“Where have you been?” You asked as you walked with him, following him into the woods as he carried a rolled up blanket underneath his free arm. You were curious as to where you were going, as this was certainly the long way to his house. 
“I was helping Nancy out with some things.” He said slowly, flicking his eyes towards you for a brief second before he looked away. The statement rang around in your ears for a moment. 
“Wheeler?” You asked him, watching the slow way he nodded his head in agreement, “Your ex?” You asked in confirmation, trying not to let the jealousy monster fill you. You had no right to be jealous. 
“Yeah,” He replied softly, chewing on his bottom lip, “It’s not like that though.” He tried to convince you, but your mind was already swirling with thoughts. He sat the blanket down, sitting down a second later as he waited for you to join him. But you had frozen on the spot. 
People had whispered that he had changed because of her, and became a better person. You hadn’t really believed it, not at first. You could remember when he was kind and sweet to you, but now you weren’t so sure. Did he really like you? Or were you just some sort of replacement? He had been struggling to go on a date. Maybe Patty was right. You were just an opportunity for him.
You reminded yourself that you shouldn’t be upset anyways. This was all a bet anyways. It was nothing serious. You were just supposed to break his heart. In a similar way you felt yours cracking at the moment.
“I don’t like her like that anymore,” He persisted, telling you quickly, “We’re just friends.” He insisted, but you weren’t grabbing the bait just yet.
“I think it’s hard to be friends with your ex.” You told him honestly, wrinkling your eyebrows together as a bitter taste filled your mouth. Why did you care anyways?
“You’re friends with my ex,” He pointed out, making you pout. It wasn’t the same thing, “And I wasn’t helping her, she was helping me.” He explained, leaving you even more curious than before. 
“With what?” You asked, wondering why he couldn’t just come to you for help. He had ignored you in order to speak to her. It didn’t make sense to you. 
“College stuff,” He flushed, “I thought it would be easier for us to go on dates if we’re close together.” He admitted, leaving your lungs void of air.
Oh. Fuck.
You nearly felt sick at the revelation, realizing that this whole time he had been planning on growing closer to you. He was trying to move with you. To create a future. And you had just been trying to convince yourself that your relationship was nothing.
“You’re making me nervous.” He said at last, brown eyes filled with worry as he stared at you. You almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of your heart racing. 
“I’m nervous.” You clarified as you gulped harshly, trying to keep your nerves from coming up. What were you supposed to do now? Is this when you were supposed to break things off? To break his heart. 
“Is it too soon?” He asked, looking worried. Looking like you had just stabbed him. His brown eyes were soft as they searched your features, trying to find any cracks within you. You couldn’t do this.
“No, I mean-,” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts, “I just didn’t expect it.” You admitted as you bit your bottom lip, thinking of how to go forward.
“I didn’t really either,” He admitted with a smile, “But I really like you.” He breathed out gently, taking your hand as he brought you onto your knees with him. 
You were stunned, speechless as your tongue remained twisted into a giant knot. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to say. You hadn’t really expected him to fall for you so easily, yet here you were. 
“Hey,” He looked at you in concern, gently touching your elbow, “Are you okay?” He looked concerned, worried as he brought you out of your thoughts.
“I’m fine,” You breathed out quickly, heart fluttering harshly in your chest, “I really like you too.” You admitted, almost fearfully as you brought your eyes to him.
“Yeah?” He questioned you, his lips curling into a little smirk as you rolled your eyes. Not so bashful now.
“Don’t get so cocky,” You laughed, pulse racing as he traced his lips over yours gently. You pressed your fingers against his bicep, holding onto him for support as he dragged his mouth against yours, “I’m a mess.”
“Not to me,” He smiled softly as he pecked the corner of your lips, “You look stunning.” He mumbled, pressing his fingertips against the hem of your shirt. You gulped, following his motions as you both slowly undressed each other in the sunlight. 
You giggled against his mouth as you pulled him free of his uniform, earning a little laugh from him as you exposed his bare chest to the open sky. You brushed your fingers through his chest hair, grinning as he nipped at your bottom lip.
He laid you down gently against the blanket, keeping the blades of grass from digging into your skin too roughly as he moved his hands down your curves. You breathed in and out, reminding your lungs how to work as his lips fell against the crook of your neck.
Everything burned as he spread your legs apart, gently pressing his legs in between yours. He felt hot over your body, his cock falling heavily against your slick cunt. You raised your hips forward, inviting the feeling of his girthy tip against your soaked hole.
You shook underneath him, your fingertips digging into the blanket as he slid his long dick inside of your fluttering walls. Everything felt right, too perfect as your mind grew hazy with pleasure. The sounds that left his lips were deep and blissful, white hot as he filled you to the brim.
“Steve,” You whispered as you clung to him, gaping in awe as you rolled your hips forward to feel all of him. The tip of his cock pressed deep inside of you, tickling against your bundle of nerves as your thighs trembled, “You feel so good.” You breathed out, moving your hands up to run them through his hair.
His eyes were slightly darker, half lidded as his blissful expression intensified as his grip tightened against your flesh. He rocked his hips backwards slowly, then pressed himself even deeper inside of you. You gaped, squeaking softly as the pleasure grew white hot.
His nose brushed against yours, sincere and soft as he rutted his cock in and out of your drenched walls. Your clit ached in pleasure, your toes curling as you linked your body closer to his. You were in awe of how close you were, that you could get any closer.
You dragged your eyes down his chest, meeting the area of where your bodies were connecting. You gaped at the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt with ease. He gripped the base of his cock, giving himself a little squeeze before he dragged himself deeper into you.
“You feel heavenly,” He groaned, lips messy against your own, “She’s squeezing me so tight.” He huffed, making your insides twist and turn once again. You rocked yourself against him, fingertips digging into his flesh. 
The sound of your bodies meeting created a dirty symphony, intense and lustful at the same time. But there was something sweet about it, something in his touch that was deep and sincere. The pleasure was overwhelming, making your body shake underneath his touch.
“You’re doing so good,” He breathed out, air hot against your cheek as you crooned in response, “So sweet for me, honey.” He whispered, voice higher pitched as he linked your fingers with his. 
You cried out as his cock continually hit your bundle of nerves, leaving you twitching and gasping in pleasure. You felt like you were on fire as you crashed your lips against his, desperately licking away his sounds of pleasure as he rutted deeper and deeper into you.
His fingers fell to your clit, pressing down deeply as your lips fell open against his. You squeaked, moans rolling off of the top of the trees as your cunt clamped down around his thick girth. You shook as you came, chanting his name as everything else fell away.
His teeth grazed against your neck, heavy breaths falling against your skin as you squeezed your fingers tightly with his. He grunted deeply, spreading pleasure deep inside of you as his hips came to a slow stall.
“Fuck,” He groaned, tossing his head back slowly as he shut his pretty eyes. You gripped his fingers for support, holding onto him tightly as he came deep inside of you. Dangerous, but you liked the way he felt. How you felt right now, “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaving you bashful all over again.
“So are you,” You teased, moving a hand away gently to stroke the side of his cheek, “Thank you.” You whispered, wishing that you could tell him more. Not right now. Later. You didn’t want to ruin this moment right now. 
“College is going to be fun.” He stated between heavy breaths, laughing as a smile fell onto your lips. You breathed out deeply, licking your bottom lip as you thought everything over. How could you have a future with him if you had such a big secret?
You knew what you had to do.
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knightotoc · 1 day
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Trying to wrap my head around Fight Club 1996 vs American Psycho 1991. Both written by gay men making fun of "straight" men during the AIDS epidemic, but I'm having some trouble finding discussions of the stories through this lens.
They're making me think of how people idealize the 90s, considering them the peaceful "end of history" before 9/11 restarted it. These books are about men who have more than they need and are absolutely miserable, even thinking that a "Great War" would give them more purpose. But the authors themselves were living through a historic plague that the average person was ignoring and continues to downplay.
I think one huge difference between the books is Fight Club is genuinely funny and hot, and American Psycho will absolutely kill your libido. FC has edge, and AP is a smooth slide into hell. This might be because "Tyler" is middle class and Patrick is rich. Or because "Tyler" does at least appear to be making human connections, even if they are fucked up or just in his head, while Patrick is unable to connect with anyone, even himself.
Both of the movies deserve their great reputations, but there were a few passages in these books that made me think the stories would be better suited to a more abstract adaptation, even an animation or hybrid rotoscope project.
There's a huge motif in AP about all the men looking the same, and this turns out to be key to the ambiguity of Paul Owen's death, that is iirc lost in the film. It's such an big detail that the film gives me the impression that Patrick didn't do it, and the book gives me the impression that he did. In a similar way, in FC, I pictured the narrator and Tyler looking much more similar than they do in the movie. I'm pretty good at faces (though I did totally mix up Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe yesterday LOL) so the live-action casting loses a lot of the effect from the writing.
I was also reminded of these books while I was reading, parodies with unreliable narrators in ridiculously horrible situations: It Happened In Boston?, Candide, Don Quixote, The Quest for the Holy Grail, The Knight of the Cart, The Song of Roland sorta (lots of medieval literature is like this imo)
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ghouldtime · 7 hours
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Neighbor! König Part 2
Follow up to this:
After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)
It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people
He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you
He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see
Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird
But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas
He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him
It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways
He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO
Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it
It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter
He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)
He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it
He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry
If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is
You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that
But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.
Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am
You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)
Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?
Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it
You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.
And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed
He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚
If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him
Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good
Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace
Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(
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Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) -2/6
Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.
Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2
Words: 3.4k
Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles
Read on Ao3
Part One
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Part Two
After growing up in Hershey, chocolate factories didn’t impress Buck much. He’d gone to the Hershey factory a few times on school trips and it’d been fun the first few times. Buck wasn’t even sure if it was his proximity and how often he had that chocolate as a kid, but he really wasn’t all that fond of it. He’d also had some great chocolate down in South America that made anything American pale in comparison. Not a lot of people knew it, but that was where cacao beans came from. It wasn’t Mexico either like some though, but Ecuador. 
The Seymour Chocolate Factory wasn’t even one he’d heard of and he kinda figured the chocolate probably wasn’t even that good, though they did leave with a small bag of chocolates by the end of the call. The call came about a guy that had fallen right into a chocolate vat while on a tour. 
As they were walking up, Buck heard Tommy say to Chim, “this would be the moment the Oompa Loompas give us a musical number.” 
Buck had no idea what he meant, but there was no time to ask for clarification. 
None of them had any idea how to get the guy out of the chocolate vat until, after a few failed attempts, Tommy pulled out his phone. They all eyed him. 
“What? A good Captain uses his resources. In this case, Bobby probably knows more about chocolate than anyone I know. Unless one of you has a better idea?” 
He wasn’t wrong. Bobby’s advice worked and between all of them they had the teacher out and then on a stretcher. 
Buck held himself back as they walked out and wound up next to Tommy. 
“That was a good call, getting Bobby on the phone.” 
Tommy smiled at him, crinkle eyed and gorgeous. Why was he so good looking? More importantly, why couldn’t Buck stop noticing? 
“It wasn’t like he was going to get flushed out or sucked up in a tube,” Tommy said. 
“What are you talking about?” Buck asked. 
“Willy Wonka,” Tommy said. 
“Who?” 
Tommy stopped and turned to look at him, making Buck almost run straight into him. 
“Okay, I’d understand if you never saw the original movie, but you have to have seen the remake? Johnny Depp was in it.”
“Uh, no,” Buck said. 
“It was a book,” Tommy said next. “Roald Dahl. Oompa Loompas? The kid that got turned into a blueberry?”
Buck stared at him blankly. 
“This means nothing to you, does it?” 
Buck shrugged. 
When they finally made it out, the ambulance had already left, Hen having gone with it. Chim and Eddie waited by the truck. 
“He’s never seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Tommy announced as if Buck had committed some kind of crime.
Buck was used to missing movie references. Chim had long given up expecting Buck to get what he was talking about. Buck had always been that kid that couldn’t sit still long enough to get through a movie. That and all the time he spent outdoors doing daring thing after daring thing. Not to mention that his parents hadn’t been big on tv time. 
“He’s never seen much of anything,” Chim said with a laugh. “Him and his sister both. You’d think they were raised in some commune, but instead they’re just from Pennsylvania. I’ve taken on the task of introducing her to some classics.”
Buck shrugged his shoulders. “So, what exactly are these oompa lumps?” 
“Oompa Loompas,” Tommy said. “And you won’t understand until you watch it.” 
When he turned to Eddie, Eddie just shrugged at him, but he was grinning in that way that meant Eddie was too amused by the whole thing to help. Chim mimed zipping his lips closed. Looking at Tommy just got him a shake of his head. They also banned him from looking it up and on the way back to the station, Chim even grabbed his phone out of his hands even though Buck wasn’t going to google it. 
“I can just look it up when I get home,” Buck told them. 
“Or you could watch it,” Tommy suggested. 
“Only if you watch it with me,” Buck shot back, not sure exactly why he said it.  
Tommy didn’t respond at once and Buck felt like he’d gone and put his foot in it. But then, “Yeah. Alright. If only to make sure you actually watch it.”
He tried to invite Chim and Eddie over to watch Willy Wonka with him and Evan, but neither of them was interested or available even if they did want Tommy to let them know how it went. Hen had also turned him down in favor of a date night with her wife. So, Tommy was on his own. Due to Evan’s living situation, he also had to host. So at least they got to use his living room with his big screen tv and sound bar. 
Evan showed up with pizza, beer, and a veggie tray. He looked a little nervous even after Tommy invited him in. He watched as Evan took in Tommy’s house. It was very much a work in progress and Tommy had been doing most of the work on his own, so it was taking him a while to get through all of it. He expected it would be at least a year or two before he was finally satisfied by which point something would need to be repaired or repainted. 
“I like your place,” Evan said. 
“Really? It’s a bit of a half finished mess.” 
“But one you’re clearly putting time into,” Evan said. “And you’ll like the end result because of it.” 
“Well, lucky for us, one of the things I did finish is the living room.” 
It was the thing he’d tackled right after the kitchen — which technically wasn’t even done — , the upstairs bathroom, and parts of his bedroom. He needed a place to relax and wind down after long shifts. So, it had become a priority. Tommy led Evan there and cleared off the coffee table for the food. 
They sat down side by side on his couch and Tommy grabbed the remote. 
“It’s an older movie,” Tommy informed Evan. “I think you’ll like it, though.” 
Evan got into it pretty quickly. He did ask questions like about the bed the grandparents shared and Tommy mostly just told him to keep watching. Tommy was more of a romcom re-watcher, so he hadn’t actually watched Willy Wonka in years. Still, it was more fun to get Evan’s reaction to things. He’d forgotten how eccentric and weird the movie was and watching Evan react was everything. He expressed so much and laughed with so much surprise that it was absolutely endearing. 
“Those are the Oompa Loompas!” Evan exclaimed when he first saw them, giggling. “I get it now.” 
By the time they finished the movie, Evan had turned to him with a big grin. “Okay, that was actually pretty good, if a little odd. You said there was a remake?” 
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but still good. Wonka is completely different. The whole vibe is different.” 
“Might have to check that out,” Evan said with a smile. After a pause, “We could have another movie night?” 
“That’d be nice,” Tommy said and he meant it. 
Evan stayed a little bit after the movie, discussing the more ridiculous aspects of it. Then, somehow, talking about what Tommy would be tackling next on the house. 
“I did construction,” Evan offered. “I can help out if you ever need a second hand.” 
The thought of Evan working with him to put new flooring down or to sand and stain his cabinet doors was far more appealing than it should be, but he nodded and thought that he wouldn’t actually ask Evan for help. He might not survive it if he saw Evan dressed down and sweaty doing physical work in Tommy’s own home. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told him. 
Phone calls with Ali were getting exhausting. Buck had known what he was signing up for when he started dating her. She’d been clear from the start that she traveled for work and considering Buck’s own hours he’d figured it’d be fine. It was for a while. When she was in LA it was always fun. It was different from Abby and Buck liked that. Still, it always left him feeling a little left behind whenever she went off on yet another trip. She’d call, but it wasn’t the same as having her in LA. It wasn’t the same as being able to just see her whenever he wanted and that made it hard. 
When the time between calls started lengthening and lengthening, it almost even felt like he wasn’t dating anyone at all. One night they even had a discussion about opening up the relationship, making things more casual. Not that they were even necessarily talking about each other in any serious manner to begin with. 
“It’d be a lot easier on both of us,” Ali had explained. “You can be free to meet other people and so can I.” 
Buck hadn’t argued with her or known how to approach such a suggestion. Maybe he should have. It had just felt like if he didn’t she would just leave him once and for all. He tried his hardest not to think about her out there meeting other guys and maybe finding something better elsewhere. Someone better. For his part, he didn’t want to go back to who he used to be, so he didn’t even try to meet anyone else. 
It wasn’t until…but no, Tommy was a guy. Buck wasn’t interested in him like that. He wasn’t, right? He tried not to think about their movie night. How it had felt to sit on Tommy’s couch feeling his warmth next to him watching chocolate shenanigans and being perplexed by the whole thing and then also feeling Tommy’s gaze on him. There was just something about him. Buck felt like a magnet being pulled in by a force he couldn’t fight — one he didn’t want to fight. And that…that was scary. 
It was what found him knocking on Bobby’s apartment. 
“Hey,” Bobby said and motioned him in. “Want some water?” 
“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” 
Bobby’s table was covered in wedding stuff. 
“Am I here at a bad time?” 
“Not at all. What’s going on, Buck?” 
Buck sank into the chair. “Bobby, you gotta come back to work.” 
Bobby chuckled as he set down a glass of water in front of Buck. “I’d love to. It’s not up to me.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we like write letters or something? Talk to them?” 
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t think that will help, Buck. What’s going on? I thought Tommy was doing well.” 
Buck kinda panicked then because Tommy was actually good at being Captain. He was different than Bobby, of course, but not in a way that made Buck or really anyone on the team want him gone. Tommy was knowledgeable and his own expectations about how the equipment was kept and how everything was stocked. While he’d hung back a bit the first few shifts, after that he’d jumped right into action with them, knew how to balance being in charge and telling them what to do with also being part of the solution. Buck was more than a little impressed with him. 
 “No, no, he’s doing fine. He’s a good Captain. He’s not you, but he’s good. Way he handled that bombing the other day? Or the chocolate factory…I can see why he was picked to hold your spot.” 
“I’m glad you like him,” Bobby said with a smile. “So, what’s happening, Buck?”
“Ali wants an open relationship,” Buck blurted out. 
He could tell that he’d shocked Bobby, at least for a moment. He recovered quickly. “Is that something you want?” 
“Not really,” Buck admitted. “Or…well, I don’t know. You know it’s not unusual or anything and it works for some people. You know, some people think that people aren’t meant to be monogamous. I don’t think I’m too bothered by it like as a concept.” 
“But this is not a concept. It’s your life, Buck.” 
“Yeah. I know,” Buck said and it was entirely the problem. 
Okay, so it wasn’t like Buck didn’t know that he had a bit of a slut era. His Buck 1.0 days…Buck wasn’t ashamed of them. And maybe in that time he’d explored a bit. One thing that Buck had realized was that he could never do threesomes. They were complicated and Buck was bad about sharing. Jealous, even. 
Bobby stared at him and Buck stared back. If he could just share all his thoughts with Bobby without saying them outloud, it would actually solve everything. Not even just his Ali problem, but maybe the near obsession he was having about Tommy. 
“I don’t think the problem is the open relationship,” Buck said.
He thought about Abby leaving and how she had tried to tell him in a roundabout way that what she wanted was to be free from everything and everything included him. He hadn’t been in love with her, though he had loved her. Cared about her. Convinced himself he would have a future with her. Had he realized what Abby meant by Eat, Pray, Love, Buck was actually sure that he would have been upset. Then again, it wouldn’t have been some dragged out thing. 
With Ali…shouldn’t he be more upset? Shouldn’t he be angry and maybe even jealous because why was she bringing it up if she didn’t already have someone that she wanted to sleep with? Was this her roundabout way of saying that they were over? 
“I don’t think I should be so…so okay with it. Or not care,” Buck said. 
“Oh,” Bobby said. 
Maybe it was that she was gone all the time. Gone so much that Buck hadn’t had any time to get attached. Not really. Not in the way that mattered. 
“Then maybe this would work for you, if you were looking for something different,” Bobby tried.  
Tommy came to mind right away. Except that…he couldn’t do that to someone, least of all Tommy. Buck groaned, as if that were even an option. 
“Buck?” 
“What if…” Buck trailed off. He couldn’t say it. “No. I guess I should talk to Ali.” 
“That’s probably a good start. You know, I don’t have to be your Captain for us to have these talks.” 
“No, but it would be less confusing if you were,” Buck muttered on his way out and didn’t know if Bobby had heard him. 
He could see the devastation on Eddie’s face. The woman — his wife — was on the stretcher and from what Chimney had whispered to him and Tommy’s own experience she wasn’t going to make it. She was already dead even if it hadn’t caught up to her. Eddie didn’t seem to know it fully yet, but he watched as Hen and Chim worked on her. 
“We need to intubate,” Hen said from inside the ambulance.
Chim stopped her. “No.” 
“No?” Hen asked. 
Chim shook his head and his eyes met Tommy’s, before looking to Eddie. 
“Chim’s right,” he said. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” 
He could tell that Eddie understood. He’d been an Army medic, had worked as a firefighter long enough that of course he knew. 
“If they intubate,” Tommy said, “that tube may never come out. Right now, before they do that, just take a minute.” 
“He knows,” Chim said. “Eddie, I’m sorry…this is…come on, you can say goodbye to her.��� 
There was nothing that could have prepared any of them to arrive at a call to find that the one person seriously injured — other than the driver — was the wife of one of his firefighters. 
Tommy gripped Eddie’s shoulder, not that it made much difference and then he watched Eddie climb into the ambulance. Tommy closed the door behind them and then turned around. 
“Hey,” Evan said. “Is she—”
Tommy shook his head. Evan let out a sigh and he pressed his lips together. He took a quick glance around. The driver had been loaded into another ambulance. The minor injuries had already been looked at. Evan let out a sigh and his eyes met Tommy’s again, looking a bit glassy. 
“We should go to the hospital,” Tommy said. 
“Yeah.” 
He wasn’t surprised when Bobby arrived, was glad to see him so that some of this burden wasn’t on Tommy. It was more than a job, these people were Bobby’s family and they needed him. Tommy wasn’t that for them and he wasn’t all that close to Eddie to offer the comfort that Bobby could 
Eddie left with Bobby, clutching a bag with her belongings and looking lost in a way that Tommy had never experienced for himself. 
They didn’t talk about it on the way back to the station and he told dispatch to take them off line for the remaining time left on their shift because it was only a few hours and they were all more than a little distracted. The 118 could go back online once B-shift took over. He found Evan in front of the tv, staring out into nothing. 
“Did you know her well?” he asked. 
“No,” Evan said. “Met her a few times here or there, but that was all. Eddie really cared about her, they were kinda reconnecting, I guess. She hadn’t been a part of Eddie’s or Christopher’s life for a bit. Now…”
“That poor kid,” Tommy said because he hadn’t even thought about Eddie’s son. 
Eddie had probably told him by now, had torn his world apart. At least Christopher would have a good dad. He would have Eddie there to grieve with. He would have a dad that cared and that loved him even if he never saw his mother again. 
“Yeah,” Evan said. 
Life was like that, made up of tragedies. 
The next time he saw Eddie, it was a few days later. Tommy had arrived early to do some paperwork and the last person he expected to see was Eddie. He was in civilian clothes at least, not that Tommy would have allowed him to work even if he’d gotten the uniform on. 
“Hey, Eddie, how are you doing?” 
“Alright, everything considered. Funeral’s in a couple of days.” 
He still looked lost. Like he was still out on that street looking at Shannon. 
“Well the last thing I want you to worry about is work,” Tommy said. “Take all the time that you need.” 
“Even with all those bombs showing up?” Eddie asked and shook his head. “No. I think I’ll need to work. I’ll need to be back so I can stop thinking about it. Stop picturing it.” 
It felt like a mistake. He didn’t want to say no and he didn’t want to make things harder for Eddie, and yet in their line of work there was no room for distractions. Distractions led to mistakes and mistakes in their line of work could be life or death. 
“Look, that’s…I’m not saying you shouldn’t come back at once. I just, I want your head to be in it. I want you to be in the right state of mind. Have you thought about talking to someone?”
Eddie looked taken aback. “What?” 
Tommy should have expected it. Guy like Eddie who’d been in the Army and who had probably not bothered to do any therapy after it, of course he didn’t think he needed it now. 
“The department has good grief counselors, Eddie,” Tommy said. “I won’t put any restrictions on when you can return, but I want you to see one…if they say that you’re fit to work and willing to do a few more sessions then that’s that.” 
Eddie looked like he wanted to argue, but Tommy was going to hold strong on that. He didn’t know what Bobby would have done in his place, but Tommy knew what Gerrard had done for a firehouse and a team that had lost one of their own. Tommy knew what Captain Reid at Harbor would do, too. 
“Are you serious right now?” Eddie asked. 
Tommy sighed. “Eddie, come on. I have a whole team to look out for here and this is not even really my house.” He lifted an eyebrow. 
“Okay,” Eddie said. “Fine. If that’s the only way.”  
“It’ll help, Eddie. I don’t…I’ve never been married, but I’ve lost important people. I get it. It isn’t easy and it won’t be for a while. How’s your son doing?” 
“As fine as he can be doing,” Eddie said. “My parents are here. My sisters. It’s helping him. It’s stressing me out.” 
“Parents are never easy. If you need to get away, give me a call. There are distractions that aren’t work, you know?”
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Welcome to our third edition of the Hayden Young Appreciation Week! We started this way back in 2020, during the lockdown, and it's been a blast spreading our love for this amazing character ever since!!
Hayden is the heart and soul of Perfect Match - their tenacity, their unwavering love and their deep questions about life and identity make the story so much more interesting and nuanced.
For Day 1, we have two themes for you to try. One is of course Character Appreciation, where you can appreciate practically anything about Hayden!
There is also Vacation as a theme! We all know that PM as a story has its characters travelling around the world, either to get away from Eros or to plan their next move. Hayden, in particular, seems to thrive in different settings, exploring different cultures - even more so if their MC chooses the polyglot skill for them!
Any work is welcome – fics, art, edits, moodboards, interactive media, headcanons, meta, even screenshots of your favourite scenes! Our only requirements are that the works are original (nothing AI generated), and they center Hayden and present a positive depiction of them.
It is not necessary to put up your works only on the day of the theme – you can always put it up later. We will also be keeping a buffer week in case you’re not able to complete it during the week itself (till Oct 10th).
Please be sure to do the following when tagging your posts for HYAW 2023:
1. Use the tags #haydenyoungappreciationweek, and #HYAW, along with the day/theme you made the work for (#HYAW Day 1, #HYAW Day 2 etc).
2. Tag @haydenyoungappreciationweek, and hosts @sazanes and @lizzybeth1986 in your posts so we can access them easier!
FAN CONTENT BLOGS are the lifeline of our fandoms, esp for books that have long been over yet still have a strong fanbase. Many of them are hosting some incredible events that we highly encourage you to participate in if you feel so inclined!!
@choicesficwriterscreations - Accepts fic and art (no AI). Read up on their roster of events and guidelines here!
@choicesmonthlychallenge - Accepts fic and art. We're almost at the end of September but can still give in entries for the "Royal Academy" event (run by @choicescommunityevents and @ladylamrian) currently hosted - particularly Day 29! You could also participate in Picktober for next month!
@choicesholidays - Mostly fic and art. Currently no events, but be on the lookout for announcements!
@choicesprompts - Mostly fic. There are a variety of events for the next three months! There is Smutember, Flufftober and Angstgiving.
@choicespride - All content welcome as long as it features LGBTQ+ pairings and themes! Currently no events.
Hope you have plenty of fun with Hayden content today. Let's make Hayden's birthday special! 😃😃
Happy Hayden Young Appreciation Week, everyone!!
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arirter · 9 months
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Eye of Darkness is NOT letting Elzar escape the polycule allegations he is literally always thinking of Stellan and Avar ghxjsialk
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auden-dahn · 2 months
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"D-Don't worry about me! Focus on helping the little one, okay?" 🌠 panel redraw of @laikascomet
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veronicaneptunes · 5 days
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A long time ago, we used to be friends... The Veronica Mars pilot aired 20 years ago today- on the 22nd of September, 2004.
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auriidae · 6 months
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fanart for @astronomodome's hermitcraft warriors au because their ideas are So good and i fell a little bit in love with the concept! i'm gonna be so honest i haven't properly drawn any cats in like a year but i still think this turned out super cool !!!
(totally gonna draw more btw this is just the first batch :P)
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