#maybe somewhere in colorado. it's pretty there.

[blissfulalchemist]

Hmm I feel like you would enjoy spring when the weather is still cool but everything is starting to turn pretty and green.

I’m not the biggest fan of spring for my area of living surprisingly. But that’s snow season typically. But you are right about them good good cool temperatures 🥰

[hiwerethemountaingoats]

I was actually - um, [JD laughs]. If I say the first part first, you will applaud it. So. I was having a pretty harsh year, in like, 2000… I wanna say 8? Coulda been… yeah, it was 8. That was the crying while awake year. It sucked. Toured a lot. Album came out, did the thing, y'know, and I was in really bad shape. I was drinking a lot in response to this, 'cause a person thinks, maybe that will help. Doesn't, as it turns out. But I played a festival, here in Colorado, that Kaki King uh, Missy Hagens... and it was really great, but I was not fit to be among people. And I drove from wherever the festival was, up in the country somewhere, to near the Denver airport, and woke up in the morning, and if — I’m guessing that if you're at a Mountain Goats show, when I say I was having a bad year, you are the kinda person who says, "oh yeah, I've had those." [audience laughs and cheers sympathetically] Y'know, I don't generally, in the midst of the hard times, try to squeeze it for juice. I usually do it later, y'know, 'cause in the hard times you don't feel inspired. People preach this gospel of art being useful for converting pain into something valuable, but when you're in the middle of it, you don't want to make something valuable at all, you just want the pain to stop. But every once in a while! Every once in a while you get one, right in the middle! I don't remember what hotel it was near the airport, but this was written in Colorado.

John Darnielle introducing Romans 10:9 (Gothic Theatre | Englewood, CO | April 17, 2024)

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

A Weight Off Your Shoulders ║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| A WEIGHT OFF YOUR SHOULDERS | part of the A Weight Off Your Shoulders collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║ | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x plus sized!fem!neighbor

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 7.0k | CONTENT: age gap (Joel mid 40s, neighbor late 20s), cheating, negative body image, negative self-talk, discussions of body image struggles, the savagery of puberty, but mostly just indulgent pussy worship lmao, etc.

| SYNOPSIS: [AU no outbreak] After finding out your fiance was cheating on you with the younger, skinnier intern at his work, you pack up and head home to Texas where you meet your friendly DILF neighbor Joel. He doesn’t seem to mind your fuller physique, but you’re still plagued with insecurities that have followed you for most of your life. Can he make you forget about all that for just a moment or will you stay wracked with self-conscious, negative thoughts? Spoiler: We all know Joel is a smooth talker and is down to do whatever it takes to convince you that you’re perfect just the way you are.

✧this is the first installment of a oneshot collection✧ ✧◦◦║ Part 2 ║ Part 3 ║ Part 4 ║ Part 5 ║ Part 6 ║◦◦✧

The moving van’s AC went out about 75 miles ago, and you can’t bother getting too upset about it. It goes right along with the absolute dogshit spectacle your life has become. The sweat trickles down your back as you keep your eyes focused on the road. The GPS says it’s not too much longer. Your ass is sore from sitting and driving all day, for the past three days. 

It should’ve been two at most - more like one and a half at even a leisurely pace - but the engine had started smoking and making an awful clicking sound somewhere in between Colorado and Oklahoma. You waited 6 hours for the moving truck company to meet you and switch out vehicles. At least the van hadn’t gone up in flames and destroyed all your messily packed cardboard boxes.

The string of down-on-your-luck events provided you with some sort of distraction from the reason you were cooped up in this incinerator of a vehicle and heading home to Texas where your parents still lived, a far cry from the life you had carved out with your fiance - ex-fiance, you correct yourself – in Colorado. 

Ah, yes. Mike. Michael, you think to yourself bitterly. He always hated whenever anyone used his full name instead of his nickname. You were at that level of petty, insulting him in any way that you could. You knew you’d never get close to matching his efforts at hurting you, though.

It had been a great relationship for the first few years. You had met him at his job where you were logging unpaid internship hours so you’d have something to put on your resume when you graduated with your finance degree. Math and economics had always been easy and interesting to you, although it didn’t make you very popular at parties. 

Mike– No, MICHAEL, had been sweet and teased you about how you were “too cute” to be an accountant. You had thought to yourself on numerous occasions that accountants could really use a PR overhaul. Most of your coworkers were nerdy introverts with a dark sense of humor and a penchant for getting ripshit wasted after The Hellfire Summit was over. (That’s what you all called Tax Day.)

But you weren’t “too cute” to be an accountant. Too cute for Michael, maybe, but definitely not some knockout. You had always been on the heavier side starting in middle school. You were vertically challenged, which meant there was a lot less real estate for any additional poundage you racked up through puberty. Your mom had done her best to not give you a complex, but you weren’t stupid and it wasn’t hard to figure out why she was so insistent on you being in sports throughout most of the year. You had taken to soccer pretty quickly, and the endless running kept your weight from climbing into absolute fat pig territory. Not that you didn’t think of yourself that way regardless.

While all your other teammates cried about their boobs not growing - something you had absolutely no way of relating to - you cursed the puberty gods for not giving you a growth spurt of 6” so you could be tall and lean like your friends. By the time college rolled around, you just stuck to running as a stress reliever, but it wasn’t the same level of activity that had kept you smaller throughout high school. The bathtub jungle juice frat parties and 2 am pizza slices didn’t really help matters, either. You put on a respectable “freshman 8,” but your hips and ass delivered it as more of a “freshman 23.”

Michael always talked about how he liked “somebody that didn’t just order a salad,” whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. You didn’t pay it much mind, though, when your sex life was pretty good together. He made you come more than other guys you’d been with, but it wasn’t hard to exceed expectations when the bar was so low it was in hell. And yet, Michael had found a way to sink it down ever farther.

You should’ve seen it coming. In hindsight it was so painfully obvious that something had changed for the worse. You had chalked it up to him getting nerves after FINALLY proposing to you. You were so happy when he finally asked you to marry him. Even his 15 year old son from a previous relationship had made a remark about his dad “finally growing some balls” and proposing.

A wash of sadness rolled over you at the thought of Ethan. He was such a good kid, and you had become attached to him after being with Michael for so many years. You’d moved in together, and Ethan thoughtfully cleared off a shelf of his video game things so that you’d have a nice spot in the living room for some of your DVDs and books. How on earth that was the child of the piece of shit cheating scumbag Michael was beyond you. Ethan must have taken after his mother more than you previously knew.

Michael had been married before and had Ethan with his ex-wife Patty. They had just “grown apart” as he’d put it. They got together when they were young, and it wasn’t until his 38th birthday party that he realized they just weren’t meant for each other anymore. 

You’d been upset at first to learn that Michael had started seeing you before he had “made it official” with Patty that things were over. You weren’t into the idea of being the other woman, and you didn’t blame Patty for hating your guts. Of course she would assume that you knew they were still married and that they had a young son together. You were the homewrecker whore, and it was humiliating to tag along to family events where Patty and some of their mutual friends gave you a not-so-subtle stink eye.

The friends that did readily accept you weren’t exactly top of the line human beings. Luke had clapped you on the back once after having three too many beers and cackled about how he knew Michael wasn’t crazy for switching things up and breaking things off with Patty “for you.” When you shrugged his sloppy hand off your shoulder and asked what the fuck he was on about, his shit eating grin was the icing on the cake when he slurred, “Well’ya knowwwwww what’hey say, dontcha?” You shook your head, nonplussed and not really interested in learning “what they say.” He giggled and leaned in close when he revealed that “gotta be takin’ care’uhhh him ‘cause they say thah big girls give’thuh bes head ‘cuz they’re al-huways hungry.”

Trevor had intervened before you slammed your mojito into Luke’s Neanderthal brain. “Hey man, fuck off. Don’t  be saying shit like that. Fuckin’ rude, dude.” Luke had made a fuss about how he was “jusss jok-eeen,” but Trevor wasn’t having it. “Whatever, man. Everybody knows you don’t go around talking about girl’s bodies, you fucking idiot. And you’re watching too much porn if you think she’s fat. She’s normal, man. Real women aren’t walking around like stick figures with tits and ass glued on.”

You groaned while Luke howled with laughter at Trevor’s defense of you. Calling you fat was somehow worse than big girl. Luke hadn’t said fat. Trevor hadn’t either, but his off the cuff remark that clarified what “type of big” you obviously were only drove home the idea that you took up too much space, one way or another.

Michael had taken a while to propose, and he always claimed that, while he loved you with his whole entire heart, he was nervous about getting married a second time. He started getting snippier with you and not wanting to have sex as often. His job was stressful, and he had been working tons of overtime to help pay for his part of the wedding. Thank god you kept your finances separate and never actually did walk down that aisle.

His late nights at the office were verified by his bigger paychecks, and you didn’t have a reason to be suspicious. You did think it was a little strange when he started getting up early to go to the gym so he’d “look nice for the wedding.” But hey, what a breath of fresh air, right? A man being the one concerned about how he was going to look in his wedding photos? Hitting the gym at an ungodly hour just to shed a few pounds? It was kinda like some weird form of feminist allyship, subverting societal body expectations. Right?

When you popped in to surprise him with a late dinner at work one night - you still had your keycard from your unpaid internship that nobody had remembered to disable – you found him balls deep in the tiny little blonde you later learned was the daughter of some higher up in the company that was “following in his footsteps at the company with an internship.”

Michael was such an uncreative asshole that he couldn’t even come up with a different meetcute for the leggy, fit blowup doll he’d replaced you with. At first you were enraged, but that quickly dissolved into despair. You were supposed to be getting married in 8 months. He was supposed to be the love of your life. You had wasted your 20s on this piece of shit, waiting around like a moron for him to decide he wanted to spend his life with you. 

So here you were, sweating your ass off, moving your shit several states away, and starting at square one. The dark, moody sky made you roll your eyes. You figuratively and literally had a little black cloud over your head that followed you everywhere. If the impending bad turn of weather could just hold off for a little bit, you could get your “FIRST NIGHT IN NEW PLACE” box unpacked and inside unscathed.

Of course it started pouring buckets about 5 minutes after you’d parked the van in the driveway of your rental. Your new home. Where you lived by yourself. Alone. That’s all you were now. Alone. You dragged in your soggy cardboard box of necessities, only unpacking your phone charger before plopping down on the bare mattress your parents had been nice enough to drop off before your arrival.

You spend the first night at your place crying yourself to sleep.

Texas had gotten hotter since you’d left. No way was it always this hot. You used to play outdoor sports here, for chrissakes. There was no way on earth it had always been the same temperature as Satan’s ballsack in a pair of wool underwear. Maybe it’s hotter because you’re fatter than before your inner voice suggested. You were drenched in sweat by the time 11am rolled around and you’d finished unpacking your small collection of belongings. You never realized how much of your Colorado apartment was mainly Michael’s stuff until you had to clear all your shit out for the move. Humble beginnings, I guess you think to yourself.

Your tank top stuck to your drenched back, and your thighs were slightly chaffed from the hard rub of denim over and over while you moved in. Your stupid, fat thighs and the stupid, fat chubrub they gave you. That unfortunately was something that hadn’t changed about Texas. You always carried your weight in your hips and butt, and your thighs came to join the party shortly thereafter. You had gained a few pounds after dating Michael for a year or so, settling into that comfortable couple space where you sometimes go for donuts when you know you shouldn’t or indulge in breweries too many weekends in a row. 

You were fat and happy together, though. Now you were just fat and sad all by yourself.

You stared at the lawnmower and imagined it bursting into a ball of flames. Your landlord had agreed to knock $100 off your rent if you mowed the lawn once a month. It was a no brainer, even if you had never mowed a lawn before. How hard could it be? Turns out, very.

You gave yourself a pep talk through figuring out how to put the gas into the stupid thing, but it had petered out into an irritated chant of “you piece of shit” and “fucking work, goddamit” when you couldn’t get it to start. You’d pulled and pulled and PULLED the stupid chord, but it wouldn’t start up. You wanted nothing more than to finish your chore and head inside before it got way too hot. You’d planned on already being finished by now. Michael had always made quick work of it, and if that room temperature IQ fuckwit could figure this out then so could you. Maybe.

When you pulled back again and nothing happened, something sort of cave woman happened in your brain, and you started kicking the mower in a fit of frustration. “FUCKING-PIECE-OF-SHIT!” you yell, accentuating each kick to the machine with a malice-laden word. When you propped your hands on your hips and took a step back to really give it a good, solid glare, you saw a man the next house over watching you with an amused look at the edge of his property.

“Need some help?” he called out, his smile growing.

“EVERYTHING’S GOING REAL FUCKING GOOD OVER HERE, BUT THANKS FOR THE OFFER,” you quip with way more acidity than this man deserved.

He took your stinging remark in stride and just smirked more. If he wasn’t so good looking you probably would’ve yelled at him for real. You needed a break and didn’t really care for your handsome neighbor to watch you fail at life, so you wordlessly stomped inside and plopped down with a bottle of water in hand. Was it too early for this water to turn into a beer? 11 am. Damn. You were pretty low these days, but you weren’t sure you wanted to take a trip down “drinking by yourself before noon” lane.

You sigh and play with the bottle cap as you try to ignore your growing embarrassment of being so rude to your hot neighbor. The sound of a lawn mower finally registers in your brain, and you scramble to the window to confirm your suspicions. Yep, there was your fine as fuck neighbor pushing your broken lawnmower around your backyard. It was definitely broken. He must have fixed it. It definitely wasn’t that you were entirely clueless about all this.

You groan and muster up some resolve before heading back outside. You wave at the absolute DILF-iest of DILFs you’ve ever seen in your life to get his attention. As though he was expecting you, he calmly turns off the engine and jerks his head up once in your direction.

“What are you doing?” you blurt out.

There’s that smile again. Damn, he must practice that in the mirror because holy shit it is very hard to think right now with him looking at you with it.

“Bein’ friendly to my new sailor-mouthed neighbor,” he drawled casually.

Goddamit. His voice was smooth and deep up close. And his hair, oh my god his hair. Peppery brown and slightly disheveled and wavy in all the right spots. And his eyes? Those puppy dog brown eyes that you thought just gave you a quick once over? You were kicking yourself for not being nicer earlier.

“Look, you don’t have to–”

“Name’s Joel Miller. What’s yours, sweetheart? And tell me quick, ‘cause I really think it might turn into Popeye if you don’t give me an alternative,” he teased.

Popeye? What on earth– Oh. Christ almighty. Right. Popeye. The “sailor man.” Because you have a “sailor mouth.” Okay, now the DILF was knocking out some dad jokes? You needed to find the box you’d packed your vibrator in that plugs into the wall after this little interaction.

“Kinda wanna tell you that you can call me whatever you want if you’ll just teach me how to turn that stupid thing on,” you say, motioning toward the traitor of a lawn mower.

“Hm, anything I want, huh? Temptin’. Maybe next time I’ll give ya a 101, but lemme just finish this up right quick.” Without giving you the chance to argue, he ripped the chord with a salivating flex of his bicep and resumed his task.

You awkwardly walked back up to your porch and tried to busy yourself with something. You didn’t want to go back inside and wait for him to finish. That’d be rude, him out in the sun doing your chores while you cooled off in the AC inside. You gave enough “lazy slob” vibes as it was. Luckily it didn’t take him much time at all to finish, and his sweaty brow was very distracting as he clambered up your steps. You had to keep your jaw shut when he pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe it across his forehead, revealing a respectably toned middle. He was fitter than you by far. Not that that was a hard feat.

This DILF to end all DILFs had a toned body that shouldn’t have been such a surprise to you after seeing his muscular arms as they maneuvered the lawn mower. You suddenly felt self-conscious in your tank top and denim shorts. You were sure you were bulging out all over the place and looked like a sweaty pig. You hated how easy it was these days to get down on yourself, but seeing the blonde bombshell Michael had traded you for was all you could compare yourself to. The phrase “you can’t compete where you don’t compare” turned over and over in your head.

“See? Easy. Now about that name…” he trailed off, smiling now with a mischievous, friendly look.

“Oh. Yeah, um. Roxanne. But Roxy is fine,” you say.

Joel tilted his head as though he was considering how your name stacked up to how you looked, to see if it fit you or not. Heat crept up your cheeks under his gaze, and a fresh wave of insecurity engulfed you.

“Pretty,” he remarked.

“Huh?” you ask, sounding dumber by the minute.

Joel just keeps smiling at you, no matter how braindead you sound. “I said pretty. Your name’s pretty. Fits you,” he said.

You really wanted to believe this man was flirting with you, but it was wishful thinking.

“Hmm. Th-thanks. Um. Do you want money or?” you clumsily offer. You didn’t want to send him off empty handed after he just did you such a big favor.

“Two beers,” he posed.

You went inside and grabbed two cold beers from the fridge and loped back outside, extending them to Joel. He opened them both and made himself comfortable in one of your patio chairs. He set the second bottle on the arm of the chair next to him and pulled a long swig from his bottle. You watched the bob of his adams apple as he swallowed, and you knew your panties were gonna be absolutely wrecked by the time you finished your beer.

“Thanks.”

“Cheers.” He tipped his bottle towards you and leaned back, comfortable as ever as if this was his porch and not yours. “Didn’t see ya movin’ in. Musta been in the middle of the night to unpack a whole house without anybody knowin’.”

“Eh, not hard to move when you’ve got less than 20 boxes of shit,” you shrug.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. He clearly hadn’t been thinking you’d come into your new place with bare bones belongings. Someone your age would have at least a few pieces of bigger furniture and a couple of boxes of niche hobbies.

“Rest of it comin’ later, or…?”

“Nope. That’s it. Just me and my less than 20 boxes and a piece of shit lawnmower.”

Joel chuckled, and you found yourself giving him a small, shy smile.

“So you the neighborhood watch captain? Keep tabs on all the fresh meat?”

He laughed like heading up a community group was as likely for him as you figuring out that lawn mower by yourself.

“No quite. Just didn’t realize I had a new neighbor, is all. No car in the driveway. House has been up for rent for a few months,” he explained.

“Oh, yeah. I had a moving van, but I had to turn it back in to them a few days ago unless I wanted to pay for more days. They gave me a ride back. My parents are supposed to let me use one of their cars.”

You and Joel chatted back and forth about the neighborhood, how you’d grown up here and were now back - although you dutifully omitted the reason why - and what you did for work. When he told you he worked in construction with his brother in their small family business, it made a lot of sense. No wonder he was so toned.

Joel actually laughed when you told him you were an accountant. He didn’t believe you at first. When you started citing federal tax law addendums, he held his hands up in mock surrender. You laughed at his teasing. It felt nice to just interact with somebody without having to talk about your recent breakup and all the hard changes you’d been navigating.

“Should make you the poster girl for accountants because damn if I don’t imagine a blue haired lady sportin’ a big pink cardigan and goofy lookin’ glasses whenever I hear the word ‘accountant.’ You’d be the perfect brand image overhaul, sweetheart.” He chuckled, and you did your best to not think about how Michael had once told you that you were “too cute to be an accountant.”

“So, you got an accountant helping with your family business? Or are you just cookin’ the books?” you joke.

Joel rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Nah, we got some somebody at H&R whatever, but the bigger we get the more it seems they wanna charge. Lots of confusin’ shit with all kinds of tax laws. Wouldn’t know if we were gettin’ ripped off by ‘em, if I’m bein’ honest.”

You weren’t sure why you offered. Maybe because he had been kind enough to offer you help and then mow your lawn for you even though you had been an ass. Regardless, you offered to look over some documents and paperwork if he really wanted another set of eyes on it. You dismissed him with the wave of a hand when he started talking about paying you for it.

“Two beers is my rate, Joel,” you say with feigned solemnity.

“Two beers? You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart. I know you’re worth it, though. You free this weekend? Saturday mornin’?”

And that’s how you ended up with plans to help Joel go over his company’s financial information in two days time when Saturday rolled around.

Joel was singing your praises when you’d already found two instances where they could save some money by changing a few boxes on their taxes and getting things more streamlined with a different organization method for W2’s. You had applied for a few jobs in the area, but most of your pending applications were for virtual jobs that you could work from home. It was good to keep up practice in the meantime.

Joel made you lunch - a nice turkey sandwich with cheddar cheese. He’d mistakenly offered provolone, which you’d chosen, only to find that he had run out and could only offer cheddar instead. You teased him about being an awful host, but really you were glad to not have your favorite cheese on the sandwich because it would help you not eat as fast in front of him. 

You hated feeling like this. You’d spent so many years of puberty pacing your bites with those around you, afraid to eat faster than everyone else. Nobody even gave a shit. You were just so terrified of being humiliated for being the plus sized girl who got that way in the first place because she inhales her food.

“You always eat like a baby bird?” Joel questioned through a large bite of his own sandwich.

“Only when I’m trying to concentrate on taxes and finances,” you lied with a fake giggle. You felt like Joel clocked your put-on nonchalance, but he thankfully didn’t say anything even if he had.

You tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it away from your stomach. You caught Joel watching you do this, but again, he didn’t comment.

He did, however, raise a brow when you insisted you were “too full” to finish the entire sandwich. He played it off with a “damn, you really wanted provolone, huh?” You stuck your tongue out at him but dropped the playful demeanor the second he took the plates to the kitchen. Of course you were still hungry, but you weren’t going to gorge yourself in front of your super attractive neighbor. It wouldn’t kill you to cut a few calories here and there anyway, that familiar voice in your head points out.

Stupid, fat thighs the voice adds quickly, helpful as always.

You’re quick to adopt a smile when Joel comes back, but you aren’t sure you were quick enough for him to have missed the sad, fat, and alone girl’s real expression before flipping the switch.

It’s Saturday number two of your pro bono accounting skills. Well, it was actually a Thursday since Joel had some construction something or other this Saturday, but every day was a weekend when you were unemployed. 

You had already hung out with Joel three times this past week and shared a few celebratory beers over your work from home job offer that you’d accepted and would be starting next week. Conversation came easy with Joel. He talked about his daughter, who was away at school for the semester, and you realized he must feel very lonely without her home. At least you could relate to him on that level.

You tell him the reason for your move back to your home town. He actually seemed genuinely pissed off when you told him Michael was cheating on you with a pretty little blonde thing and had been for months. You scoffed when Joel said it was Michael’s loss to have fumbled a girl like you.

“Hey,” he asserted, making you pause from the sip of beer you were about to have. “I’m serious. He’s a dumbass for havin’ let you slip through his fingers. You’re funny and smart and got a good head on your shoulders. Sure, you can’t figure out a lawn mower, but we can’t all be perfect.” His goofy grin was a sweet little addition to his playful teasing.

Maybe it was the beer talking, but you couldn’t hold back. “Yeah, well. There’s something you left out of that list there, and it’s probably the reason he did cheat on me.”

Joel shook his head in confusion. He wasn’t sure what he had left out.

You laughed hollowly to yourself, swirling your beer mindlessly as you spoke. “Funny. Smart. Good head on my shoulders. But not pretty, right? Not attractive. Not skinny enough.”

Joel’s expression shifted into something sympathetic and warm, and you hated yourself for having just let that word vomit happen. 

“To be honest, sweetheart, I didn’t wanna say anythin’ that might make you uncomfortable. But I can give you a list a mile long with all the things that are beautiful about you. Inside and out.”

You flush at his appeal to your assets, but you know he’s just being nice. You were pathetic. You were going through a breakup from a relationship that had ended because your fiance was shoving his dick into his coworker. Of course Joel was going to try to boost your self-esteem and give you compliments.

When you didn’t respond, Joel placed his large, warm hand over yours. You looked at it and up to him. He grazed his other hand, a ghost of a curve against your cheek, like he wanted nothing more than to stroke your face and cradle your neck while he drew you into a long kiss and grabbed at your—

No. No he wasn’t. He was just being nice.

“I mean it. That prick is gonna look back and regret losin’ you.”

You wished you could believe him.

When Joel brought you a turkey sandwich for lunch on your second day of helping him, he made sure to point out the provolone. “Got it special for my girl, huh?”

Your tummy flipped at the way he called you his girl, but it was just another one of his terms of endearment that he probably used with everyone. He’d called you angel, sugar, honey, sweetheart, and even Popeye a couple of times. It didn’t mean anything. You weren’t special.

When you pushed your half eaten sandwich away, Joel set his down and waited for you to look at him.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, it’s great. Thanks for the provolone, by the way. You didn’t have to do that. Really. I’ll um, I’ll just save the rest for later. I’m good for right now.”

Joel’s jaw clenched from side to side before he leaned over in the chair next to you.

“Darlin’, you should eat somethin’. Half a sandwich ain’t shit.”

You shrugged and insisted you weren’t hungry. Joel chewed his cheeks against his molars for a moment before adjusting in his chair and leaning in even closer than before.

“This about that asshole? Messin’ with that blonde?”

You froze at his words. You heart was about to leap out of your chest.

“N-No,” you lie. “I, um, I’m not sure what you mean, Joel.”

“What I mean is you got the idea that you’re not beautiful. That you can’t compare.”

You took a deep swallow to clear the lump in your throat. Your eyes were getting a little blurry. Dammit, you really didn’t want to cry in front of Joel. Not over this stupid bullshit.

“Just leave it, Joel,” you mumble, turning your attention back to the papers on the table.

“Not gonna do that, sweetheart,” he said firmly.

When you looked back at him, there was a dark hunger in his eyes. His usually lax, friendly features were drawn into a stony scowl.

“I meant what I said the other day. You’re beautiful. Everythin’. Everythin’ about you is beautiful.”

“Look, I appreciate you being nice and trying to make me feel better, but you don’t have to–”

“You think I’m lyin’?” he challenged. You swallow hard at his commanding tone, and his words went straight to your pussy. You shook your head, feeling a little more convinced Joel might not be embellishing his opinion of you.

“Jus’ … Hard to think of myself that way, after…” You want to tell Joel every last detail of your life. Every time someone made you feel like you were eating too fast. Every time your friends got flirted with in the mall while you quietly hung at the back of the group. Every time you put something back on the rack after seeing how it accentuated the shape of your body too much to be a cute garment anymore.

Joel turned and was now angled directly at you with a knee tucking itself between your legs. His sinewy, large arm crossed your chest, his hand firmly planting onto the arm of your chair. He dipped his mouth right next to your ear. “You give me the word, sweetheart. Gimme the green light, and I’ll show you just how gorgeous I think you are.”

You’d been here before. The guy begging to show you a good time but only ever ending as a hookup. You were never girlfriend material, but you were a warm, round body for them to get their rocks off for the night. You knew Joel was different. He wasn’t like that. But you still can’t bring yourself to say yes.

“Tell me,” you whisper. Joel pulled back to look at your face. “Just your words.”

“After you let me kiss those sweet lips of yours?” he countered. You nod yes. It was only a kiss.

Joel stood and grabbed your hand, leading you to the couch. He tried to pull you onto his lap, but you knew he’d change his mind about all of this the second your too heavy body crushed his.

He tilts your chin for you to look at him after you sit. His eyes searched for any hesitation or unease. You can’t handle another rejection, so you lean forward. Joel meets you halfway and presses the gentlest of kisses against your mouth. It was feather light in a way that conveyed an intent to go slow rather than a hesitant partner.

His tongue gently flicks against your bottom lip, and you swallow a moan as you let him in. The kiss is agonizing in its slow, mindful pace as Joel makes no rush of exploring every part of your mouth. You suddenly feel very needy. You haven’t been kissed like this in a very long time. You pull at Joel’s shirt, dragging him on top of you as you lay back on the couch. His broad chest easily envelops you, and his large hands twitch with restraint to not smooth over every inch of you.

His grip tightens around your waist as he delves into a hungrier kiss. When he pulls back to adjust his body parallel to yours, the sight of your reddened mouth and blown out pupils almost have him crumbling into you.

“Tell me,” you breathe. “I just-I just want to feel pretty.” You curse the goblin part of your brain that tacked that pathetic sounding plea onto the end of your comment.

“Want me to start slow or you want me to tell you exactly what comes to mind?” he questioned with a flick of his tongue against your earlobe before drawing it into his mouth and sucking.

“Ohhh–ssh-shit– the s-second one,” you manage.

Joel’s deep chuckle sends goosebumps all over your body.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout the first time we met. Wanted you even then. Kept thinkin’ about us sittin’ on your porch. The way you were holdin’ onto that beer bottle? All I could do was imagine how your pretty fingers would look wrapped around my cock,” he murmured into the shell of your ear. “Bringin’ it to those pouty little lips of yours. Goddamn I thought about your tongue on me, baby. Takin’ me in real good in your mouth. Lickin’ this cock that gets hard just for you. That wet, warm mouth just for me.”

Your breath hitches in between Joel’s incredibly specific and detailed account.

“And when you were havin’ that little spitfire spell’uh yours, kickin’ the lawn mower?” he continued, earning a moan from you in half arousal and half embarrassment remembering your temper tantrum that day. “When you kicked it, your tits jiggled all in that little tank top you had on. Had to stop myself from marchin’ over right then and there and shovin’ my dick right in between ‘em and fuckin’ ‘em.”

You would’ve rubbed your thighs together just for the friction right now, but Joel had slotted himself in between your legs and was pushing his hard-on against your clothed pussy in a teasing grind that was driving you insane. Your hips canted at the hint of contact.

“Sittin’ in those cute little cutoffs,” he groaned low. “Your thighs spreadin’ on the seat. Wanted to grab you up and make my face your new seat, baby. Wanted those thighs on either side of my face while you rubbed your pretty little cunt all over my mouth.”

“J-Jesus christ,” you whimper. This man was giving  you the dirtiest play by play of all the ways he’d envisioned himself exploring your body. Your pussy had already bottomed out by the time he got to the part about the lawn mower.

“‘N I jus’ know, baby, I just know it. Know your pussy is made to take this cock, baby. I know it’s perfect. Know it tastes so fuckin’ sweet. Know I’d fuck you ‘til you couldn’t think straight. Make you come on my cock over and over.”

Okay, maybe you could let him do more than just describe how much he wants you.

“‘N then after I work my tongue over you, ‘n after you take this cock so good, I’d grab you up, all to myself. Soft skin against mine. So soft, baby. Pull you in close and never let go. Press you right against me, hold you all night, cuddle up real close. Then wake you up with my dick hard against your perfect ass and fuck into that sweet little hole all over again.”

“Joel,” you whine. 

“Hhmmm?” he drawled innocently, but you could feel his smile against your skin.

“I-I think I changed my mind. About telling me and not showing me. I think that, um, I think I’d really like for you to show me h-how much you want me,” you mumble against his cheek.

“S’that right, honey? You want a little show n tell now?” he teased. For good measure he rocked himself against the apex of your thighs, causing your hips to jerk up involuntarily to meet the movement. He chuckled at your eager change of heart.

Joel wasted no time nibbling and sucking your neck and his hands snaked up your shirt and under your bralette. The pads of his thumbs circle your pebbled nubs, and you let out a choked sigh. He shoved your clothing off with a few tugs and stopped to marvel at your bare top half. “God, even better than I imagined.” 

His greedy eyes raked over every inch of you, a reverential gaze at your curvy figure. Heat spread between your legs when he dipped his mouth to your chest, leaving a wet trail with his tongue and lips in a freeform pattern before drawing your erect nipples between his teeth. Your back curved off the couch in a jerk at the delightful tease.

His hands covered large swaths of your abdomen where he enthusiastically massaged and kneaded into your flesh like he couldn’t grab enough of it at once. You lifted your hips when he pulled your shorts and panties off, and you would’ve been self-conscious about being completely nude while Joel was still fully dressed if you hadn’t seen the way his eyes glazed over with want as he absorbed the sight of you.

“Goddamn,” he breathed. “So pretty. Been wantin’ to drink this pussy from the first time I saw you.” His eyes flitted up to your face with a degree of effort as though he had to tear his gaze away from your heavenly body. He searched your features, checking in and making sure you still wanted this. You nod in consent, and no sooner is his tongue lapping between your folds.

You fist a handful of his hair at the overwhelming feeling of wet heat against you, and Joel groans in a deliciously lewd way that takes you even closer to the limit. He lathes against your heat with the fervor of a devout addict, and you come with a slamming jolt when he simultaneously slips two large fingers into you and sucks your clit.

“There’s my girl,” he coos, working you with a steady drag and push of his fingers as you come down from your high. “Knew you’d look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone, baby.” Your first orgasm quickly rolled into a second when Joel drove a third finger into you with a steady thrust. You cry out, clenching around the painfully sweet stinging stretch of his fingers. 

You grab desperately at the tent in his pants. “S’about you today, baby,” he murmured into your thigh where he’s planting slow, sweet kisses. 

“Please, Joel. Want to see you. Taste you,” you rasp out, still pulsing weakly around his digits. You groan when he pulls his fingers from you and laps all the glistening slick from them before standing in front of you. You sit up in a rush, eager to see more of him. He obliges and unfastens his jeans. His impressively thick

length made you gasp when he sprang it free from his underwear. You don’t hesitate to fit as much of him into your mouth as you can, and he lets out a satisfied hum when his tip nudges the back of your throat.

“Shit, I’m gonna come, baby,” he croaked. Apparently working you over had done a number on him already, and it made you want him even more. You wordlessly released him in a sloppy, wet pop from your mouth and tilt your head back, stroking his length with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. When his breathing picks up and he’s on the edge, you stick your tongue out expectantly and continue to fist him until his hips stutter and jerk, his spend cascading onto your cheeks, lips, and tongue.

You both just sprawled out on the couch like two chalk outlines haphazardly jutting into odd angles on pavement. You giggled when Joel asked you if you believed him now, and you said he had indeed made a believer out of you. 

That was the first night you stayed over his place, and just like he had told you earlier that day, he scooped you in close to him, cuddling and shamelessly grabbing at your belly, thighs, and anywhere else he could reach while he peppered the back of your neck with kisses. It was the first time in a very long time that you didn’t once think about how much space you took up.

This one’s for all my baddie thickies out there!

I have hope that one day Miss Thickums® will come to love on herself a bit more because she deserves it, dammit. Also that and the fact that I get down bad for a lil Rubenesque cutie ha ha. 

I hope y’all liked this little pairing! I have been working on Endless Night and Feral Woman but couldn’t get this idea out of my head so I just churned it out. I’m a sucker for fluff and praise, so this was a nice detour from my heavier series (but you should def go check those out too lmao). 

I have so many more ideas for this pairing. I just know that AU friendly DILF neighbor Joel Miller has always been a “more cushion for the pushin” kinda guy and would love to nibble every pudgy roll on your body. His favorite spot is your lil muffin top. That’s my headcannon, and I won’t hear any differing opinions.

Let me know if y’all want more from these two. :)

Catch ya later,

♥Puddles♥

[earthherbsandlove]

sfw heather chandler dating headcannons!!!!!

a/n - in my mind, these would take place out of sherwood, ohio and somewhere, like, michigan or maybe colorado? idk i don't see heather going to a city.

----------------------------------------------------------

- girlie was just going through comphet. that's it. no way she's not a lesbian. argue with the wall.

- i don't know why but i don't think she would ever do her skincare routine on her s/o. like, maybe she'd let you do it once to her but she certainly would not have any problem telling you if you were doing it wrong.

- clothes shopping would be fun but tedious. she'd tell you all the colors to avoid, what accessories would go well with certain shirts, and what looked straight up awful on you. she does not have a filter, she cannot be nice to save her life.

- she makes you watch a rom-com with her every friday night and critiques it throughout the entirety of the film.

- tried to cook for you one time but almost burnt the house down. she now just orders take out and pretends she cooked it. you know better though. it's the thought that counts!!

- if she's going out, you're going out. there is no excuse in the world that can save you.

- she's not good at understanding your struggles since she's had a pretty sheltered and privileged life but she shows her love and affection through other things like massages or buying something that reminds her of you. she's never been great with her words, so she tries to reciprocate in the best way she knows how.

[sergeifyodorov]

Hi cody which of the big names (or lesser known guys that are your blorbos) do u think will play for their team for their entire career and who do u think will leave? Tampa bay is on my hit list for dropping stamkos like that

ohoho this one is FUN... everyone is my blorbo im gonna go through every team and See...

the biggest difficulty in making this list is that like inevitably b/c of the Inevitable Passage Of Time the babies grow up and sometimes they grow up into like. diff ppl... like i imagine rn the sharks and hawks respectively want mack and bedsy to be with them for life... but is that Happening? it's too early to say ... bedsy seems like he might though. he's goodcanadianboy enough.

boston bruins: marchand and pasta are 100% lifers... mcavoy seems like they want him to be a lifer but he hasn't made up his mind yet.

buffalo sabres: if they make the playoffs within the next five years (BIG IF) then i can see one of power or dahlin sticking it out. but at this point i'm pretty sure the only thing that can save the sabres is a serious exorcism and i mean a SERIOUS one so i doubt this'll happen in truth

detroit red wings: larkin. duh.

florida panthers: barkov

montreal canadiens: n/a. see buffalo sabres but replace "power" with "caufield" and "dahlin" with "slafkovsky" . i mean i guess you can put arber on that list but mostly because his career isn't gonna be that long probably

ottawa senators: the one and only THOMAS CHABOT

tampa bay lightning: i WOULD have said stamkos until this offseason... fucking crasy... ok anyway here's my juice: vasy's back injury/surgery have meant he is no longer the goalie he was and i doubt he'll command much after this contract is over. i say 50-50 he leaves vs stays as a reasonable backup/tandem guy. kucherov Wants 2 Win and has a much lower tolerance for Bullshit than stamkos, which means if a competitive price is not being paid for him he will Just Leave. victor hedman is going to be a lifer though

toronto maple leafs: morgan rielly is the only one i know in my heart is a lifer, but only because a) jt was already an islander and b) willy and auston will probably play most of their reasonable careers as leafs and then have like 1-3 seasons somewhere else as ancient old men to Cup Chase One Last Time. don't ask about the other guy you know how i feel about jinxes

carolina hurricanes: n/a

columbus blue jackets: n/a

new jersey devils: n/a... they will try to keep at least 1 hughes but i think we have seen so little of the current devils era (hischier/hughes) that it's hard to say anything about their future atm. can you believe nico was only drafted the year after auston like they haven't gotten off the ground at ALL.

new york islanders: [squints in trying to name islanders]... actually a bunch of lifers looking at it. sorokin. anders lee. barzal if you're nasty. brock nelson. etc

new york rangers: chris kreider FER SURE, igor shesterkin FER MAYBE

philadelphia flyers: see devils re: brink of something new. they're going to try and keep tk forever though

pittsburgh penguins: do i REALLY have to say anything here

washington capitals: Do I Really Have To Say Anything Here

chicago blackhawks: was about to make another bad seth jones contract joke here before remembering he's already played on a different team. no further comment

colorado avalanche: natemac has made it pretty damn clear he wants to stay an av forever, because sidcros stayed a penguin forever. do what you will with that information

dallas stars: jamie benn definitely, but everyone else is too young to say something about or has been on other teams already. good luck with your jrob21 contract negotiations stars front office You Will Need It

minnesota wild: ...jared spurgeon...?

nashville predators: did you guys know puckpedia has the preds abbreviated as NAS and they're ahead of the devils. crazy. anyway roman josi and juuse saros are gonna be preds for life, and probably filip forsberg too

st louis blues: vlad tarasenko IN MY HEART...

winnipeg jets: hellebuyck and schiefele fer sure

anaheim ducks: because they've been trying to trade him for a decade and have been unsuccessful yet: john gibson

calgary flames: n/a

edmonton oilers: nuge + mcdrai also

la kings: doughty + kopi

seattle kraken: n/a

san jose sharks: logan couture

vancouver canucks: my hot take is nobody because quinn hughes is going to pull a mark giordano or jason spezza or perhaps even a chris tanev and play the last couple years of his career as a leaf. petey is gonna slut it up somewhere else later, brock is straight up going to leave as a ufa OR sign a short bridge and then leave as a ufa, and jt miller was a ranger

vegas golden knights: n/a

[kenny-the-ken]

Don't Kiss and Tell

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! Warnings!!: strong language

Kyle hated Eric, that wasn't news to anyone in South Park, let alone you. Your older brother always was a bit of a dick towards him, and you always found it unfair. Eric's friends were always so lovely to you, and maybe it was because while yes, you were their best friends little sister, you were also the complete polar opposite from him.

Eric was loud, boisterous, rude, insensitive and quite frankly, kind of aggressive in his actions. But you were nothing like that, you were shy, reserved, kind and caring and most of all, not a complete racist.

Eric and you would come to blows quite a lot, and his friends loved it when it happened, because while you were quiet, you did have his temper, and two Cartman's arguing was quite a sight to behold.

But you knew Eric wouldn't take lightly to what was happening here, if he knew you were in Kyle's apartment with him, he'd explode, in fact you were pretty sure he'd try to reenact World War Two, with Kyle being the only victim. They were friends but also enemies, and that made this so much worse.

But you couldn't help it, although you were only nineteen and in your first year of college, the twenty four year old curly redhead who's arms were snaked round your waist as you cuddled beside him watching a movie on his couch, was all you could think about. Guys your age didn't understand, they were all fuck boys, only out for one thing.

Kyle was different. He'd always been kind to you, but when you turned eighteen and you started going clubbing with your brother and his friends, Kyle started to develop feelings, feelings that he knew were wrong, but the way you looked, the way you moved, the little touches you'd leave lingering on his arms, god he was smitten.

Kyle pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his long fingers running through your soft h/c hair, a contented sigh leaning your mouth as you leaned against his light touches.

"I'm really glad you could come over." Kyle's words broke the silence, and you turned your head a little to gaze at him, a small smile on your face.

"Me too. I really missed you. It's just hard... you know what Eric's like." You spoke, and Kyle nodded, placing a small peck on your cheek.

"Let's not worry about him, baby. Let's just enjoy each other in the little time we have." Kyle whispered, and you felt your cheeks flush, earning a small laugh from Kyle.

You had been together for around four months, not that you got to see each other much, between college and work, and trying to escape the suffocating grasp of your control freak brother, it was hard to navigate, but you both made it work, and it made little moments like this together all the more special.

"I love you." You spoke, and Kyle's face lit up, a wide smile on his face. He responded the same way every time you told him you loved him.

"I love you too, darling. I had a little idea in mind for tonight's date, if you wanna hear it?" Kyle replied,a cheeky grin on his face.

"Okay sure, what have you got planned, hunny?" You asked, leaning your head back so you were laying on Kyle's chest, your body between his legs.

"I was gonna drive us to central Colorado, take you on a nice fancy date, somewhere we can be seen together, hold hands, kiss under the street lamps where no one will see us. Well, so Eric won't see us." Kyle spoke, his voice hushed, gazing down at your face, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"That sounds amazing! But won't it be expensive? I don't want you having to waste your money on me!" You spoke, and Kyle shook his head.

"Baby, if we have a lovely date that we'll never forget, then it couldn't possibly be a waste of money, in fact, I'd see it as an investment." Kyle grinned, and you smiled back at him, before shifting to sit up, stretching your arms before getting off the couch.

"I better go get changed then! Which means I'll have to escape the house without Eric seeing me all dressed up." You said, chewing on your bottoms lip, your eyebrows knitted together with worry.

"Already thought of that. I bought you that dress you showed me a few weeks back, and the shoes to go with it, so you can get ready here." Kyle replied, and your face lit up, moving back over to him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more.

"You really do think of everything, you're so smart." You cooed, making Kyle's ego grow slightly, as he stood himself, his arms finding their way round your waist.

"Plus, it's an excuse for me to see you all dressed up just for me." He smirked, as you both stood still, your mouths meeting each other for a few quick kisses.

"I'm gonna go get ready, okay?" You whispered, and Kyle huffed a little. "One last kiss?" He begged, puppy dog eyes making you melt, placing another kiss on his lips before walking into his bedroom, and gasping at the dress he bought you, it was the exact one you'd shown him a while ago, and it fit your body like a glove, your feet slipping into the pair of heels Kyle had bought for you, and lifting the little handbag that matched perfectly.

And Kyle's eyes nearly popped from their sockets when you emerged from the bedroom, his mouth agape, and you swore you seen him drooling. "Holy fuck, you're hot." He spoke mindlessly, making you giggle and blush at his statement.

"Thank you, baby." You replied, as you embraced each other, Kyle's hand cupping your cheek, staring deeply into your eyes. "I am the luckiest guy on planet earth to be able to call you mine, y/n. I would fight your brother for you!" He announced, making you chuckle.

"You two would fight each other just because! Don't even lie!" And Kyle laughed, a grin on his face. "Yeah, I suppose that's true, babe." And just as you were ready to leave, your phone started ringing, it was Eric.

You answered his call, your finger coming up to your mouth to let Kyle know to be quiet. "Hey bro, what's up?" You spoke, before an onslaught of shouting kicked off on the end of the line, startling you.

And Kyle took your phone from your hand, pressing the screen to put it on speaker.

"HOW COULD YOU DATE THAT JEW! Of all the people in the world! You chose KYLE! You're a traitor! A fuckin' traitor and I'm telling mom!" Eric shouted, and your eyes rolled, Kyle couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

"HEY! I'll have you know that this Jew loved fucking your sister earlier, how's that fat boy?" He retaliated, and suddenly they had both gone from respectable twenty five year old to literal children, throwing stupid insults at each other.

"Eric, I'm an adult now, you can't just tell mom that you don't like who I'm dating! What's she gonna do? Ground me? I'm nineteen, Eric! And who cares what religion Kyle is! He treats me well, that's all that should matter, right?" You shouted back, a pause coming from the other end of the line, before hearing a loud sigh coming from your brother.

"Kyle, I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna beat your ass catholic!" Eric shouted, before hanging up the phone angrily.

You pulled your boyfriend into a tight hug, his head resting on your chest, and you peppered gentle kisses on the top of his head, your hand running through his his thick, curls.

"C'mon darling, I promise Eric won't do anything. Let's go on our date and have a nice night like we'd planned." You reasoned, and Kyle nodded meekly, looking like the colour had drained slightly from his face, and upon noticing his anxiousness, you cupped his lightly freckles face within your hands, your thumb brushing over his pale pink lips, standing on your top toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Don't listen to Eric, by the time our dates over he'll have found something else to get pissed off at, so please don't worry." You soothed him, his gaze fully focussed on you.

"I'm just... I don't want to lose you. I know your brother thinks it's wrong, but I love you, I always have, I just... I'm scared, that's all. Your brother is revenge crazy, I don't want anyone to get hurt." Kyle spoke, his gaze averted to the ground, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kyle, no one is gonna get hurt, my mom won't allow it, okay? Eric can be hard work, but I'll talk him round, I always do." You spoke, meaning every word behind what you'd said. Kyle had changed you as a person, and he understood you on a level that no one else ever had. He truly was the most amazing guy you'd ever met.

"Now let's go on our date, and now you can take me wherever you want, because we're not a secret anymore." And Kyle nodded shyly, his slender fingers intertwining with yours, and he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, before moving to open the door, holding it open for you.

"Ladies first, my love." And as you exited his apartment, you felt as though this was the first date you'd both been on, those familiar butterflies swirling in your stomach, as Kyle unlocked his car, opening the passenger door for you to hop in.

Even if your brother did try to overshadow things, and tell you what to do, there was no way you could ever pry yourself away from Kyle, you were in too deep, and you liked it. You liked him, in fact you loved him, and that was what mattered most.

[cleolinda]

I’m not sure if I just came out in my user bio? Did people know? I think I’ve mentioned it in passing elsewhere a couple of times; I am not fully out IRL (red state). Just out here trying to be a gentle woodland wlw creature, mostly.

I Figured Some Things Out very late in life. Like, I don’t think I knew until 2014-2015ish, so I would have been about 36 then (I’m about to turn 44. Am I old enough to be your mom? Maybe?). I remember spending about a year seriously questioning what I thought I knew about myself and then really knowing it, being glad about it, shortly before the Obergefell decision dropped: marriage equality in the US.

And I’ll tell you—why am I telling you this? Why now? I don’t know. Because of what happened in Colorado yesterday? Because a big family gathering with people who don’t know who I am, who might say ignorant shit, will happen in a few days? I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know.

I know more than I knew ten years ago. I spent my whole life feeling like there was something terribly wrong with me. Then I came to realize I was bisexual (and also on the spectrum, but that’s a story for another time) and I felt so much peace? Just so much peace. There wasn’t anything wrong with me at all; not knowing myself was what was wrong.

This is a lot to say and I’m not sure why I’m saying it.

Actually Tumblr helped me figure that, oddly enough. Maybe that’s why I want to say it, if I’m coming back to post here, because it—you—helped me so much. (I’ll go find some of the posts, they’re probably buried in Pocket somewhere.) The reason I would want to talk about it, really, is to be a middle-aged woman saying that sometimes it takes this long. It’s okay to not figure things out for a long time, to not be sure, to take as long as you need, and for the balance of your attractions, your loves, to shift back and forth. I’ve always been bi—we can talk about youthful impressions of romance novel covers some other time—but I only had in-person crushes on boys for much of my life. (Or did I? What about the kind, pretty cheerleader I grew up with but was too shy to say much to? I feel like being neurodivergent is partly why it was hard to figure out.) And now it’s like, women, enbies and Hozier. It’s confusing. You wouldn’t think sexuality be like that, but it do.

(Bi? Pan? See, this is why I like “wlw,” women loving women. Does what it says on the tin. The embracing inclusive “queer.” But I know that word has painful baggage for some people. I feel like it’s a word that brings me peace—it has room for me to change and grow—but it doesn’t for everyone.)

I feel like I missed out on a lot, the connections I could have made in the years I didn’t know, but I don’t regret knowing now. Watching (and voting in) the midterm elections, seeing what happened yesterday at a place that was supposed to be safe—it makes me want to live queer as hell. I don’t know if I can do that offline yet. And I think that’s okay too, to do what you can, be who you can, in the places you can, and protect yourself everywhere else. Especially now.

I don’t know. I meant to write like three sentences about this. Is it sappy to say that I’m thankful? I can’t tell everyone—just, uh, the internet—but I know, and that means the world to me.

[ag-updates-and-archives]

Anthony Green on Circa Survive’s new album: “I’m possessed by this shit”

Anthony Green is walking across a beach somewhere in America when we connect over the phone in late August to discuss the upcoming Circa Survive album. Prior to our call, Green spent the day with his family in a brief moment of freedom from his hectic work schedule. “I’ve only been home for about a week,” he tells me, “and the whole week has been spent doing family stuff pretty much every day or going on some kind of adventure.”

This break from the chaos of a life spent in music is something of a rare treat for the 35-year-old vocalist, who has spent the majority of his adult life touring the globe. “Tomorrow morning I go into the studio to begin my next solo record,” he begins, “and then in September Circa has some stuff around the album release [September 22]. But one of us is having a baby in October, so we aren’t really going out until early November, which gives me a lot of time to work on new Circa stuff, my solo shit, and just hang with my family before the album cycle really kicks off near the end of the year.”

The album cycle Green’s referring to will be in promotion for The Amulet, Circa Survive’s sixth studio album. Circa has been playing live throughout 2017, largely in celebration of their record On Letting Go turning 10 years old, but they won’t really hit the road again for a couple months. “It sort of kicks off when we tour with Thrice in November. We’ll be playing a whole bunch of stuff from our catalog on that run, which will help us finish out the year. We will do more touring in 2018, maybe with some stuff around Blue Sky Noise…who knows?”

It’s hard to talk about touring with someone who has played Colorado’s iconic Red Rocks venue without asking them about the experience. Circa Survive made their debut at the venue earlier this summer while supporting California rock band AFI. “Everybody talks about how monumental that place is due to its structure and size, and in reality it was beautiful. But the feeling of being on a stage where the audience is like…usually you look out and you see a flat line of people that slowly escalates like a gentle horizon, but when you’re playing at Red Rocks there is a wall of people sitting on rock pretty high in altitude. It used to be a spot where they did rituals and shit like that. It’s almost like a holy place for people who love live music, and I had something close to a religious experience there – I was elated.”

After a brief pause, Green continues by focusing on the set itself. “It’s funny, this literally never happens to me, but the whole first song I was terrified. I had more stage fright than I think I have ever had in my life, and I fucked up a bunch of parts in the song that I never fuck up. Immediately I was losing my shit, and I thought I might ruin the whole set. The end of the song is pretty chaotic musically, and I found a way to kind of explode with it to break free from that moment. But seriously, it was intense. It was like a monument to everything I hold dear. People travel from all over the world to experience that venue because it’s like a true experience. Not to say you can’t have that kind of moment in, say, The Grog Shop (a Cleveland venue), but there is something special about a place like that with people who understand its importance and cater to it. They’ve created a real escape.”

I mention to Green that I know a handful of people who made the trek from the midwest to Colorado to see him perform that show. “Really,” he asks curiously, “That’s actually fucking crazy.” We discuss specifics of their travel for a moment before another comparison between Red Rocks and religion is made. “That place is like a church for live music,” Green explains, “and that’s our thing. We truly worship music, and that live music experience is when I think our band is at its pinnacle. That’s why, like, I’m stoked people review the record, but at one point I stopped looking at them as records and more as a chapter in our life that is going to fit in a bigger, giant book. An album is like a little brush stroke on a giant tapestry that hopefully I work on for the rest of my life. Each record doesn’t have to be the same sound, or have the same intensity. When we used to try new things I would get so nervous about it because it was different, but I feel now as an older man I am able to live with the idea that this is an ongoing process and not everything has to be perfect right now in this moment. Whatever people take from it is their thing and they’re allowed to have it.”

The idea of chapters as it relates to the release of Circa Survive’s career is a fitting one. Never a band known for singles, the band has cultivated a fan base that is more interested in the group’s musical expression as a whole than a great hook or catchy riff. If those things happen few would complain, Green likely included, but more than anything their fans demand the group simply continue. They are engrained in the band’s journey as much as the band members themselves. Every album can stand on its own, but when heard in sequence with the release before and after it each record takes on new, greater meaning.

Thinking on all this, I suggest to Green that fans may look at the band’s new release less like a traditional record and more like the latest season of a television series they cannot wait to binge. “Dude,” he excitedly replies, “that’s the way I look at it now. I think when you’re young and you’re working with people who are funding your creativity their influence carries weight. It takes time to realize they’re trying to make their money back and it really doesn’t matter to them if the product is something that is creatively fulfilling to you in a way you’re honest about. And that’s been struggle because we were young and stupid, you know? Now, being an older band that has been able to retain its members and somehow found a way to grow with its audience in a steady, slow way based on doing what we want…It’s cool to not have to think about that life as a thing. We have no desire to be the biggest band in the world. I think as a young band we wondered if it were possible to be a huge band who makes our kind of music and still have people giving us all kinds of money. Then you get a taste of something like that and you think it may be possible, but really that’s not what’s important. The important thing is making really cool shit. I feel we are so far removed from the commercial side of the industry. We are music nerds, and we rely on other music nerds to support our band. If something cool happens that’s great, but we make a good living making the music we want to play. Why would you fuck with that?”

Green pauses again before clarifying his previous statement. “I don’t want to come across as talking shit on pop music. I think there is a lot of pop elements on the record and I listen to quite a bit of pop as well. I just don’t think we’re a band like that. Our music isn’t always easy for people to get.”

The conversation turns to The Amulet, which is still about a month from release. “People ask me ‘is it more like the last shit, or more like this thing,” Green begins. “And I don’t know how to tell them I don’t always know the difference between those records. I sometimes don’t digest a record for years. When we were just touring for On Letting Go’s anniversary there were a couple of things on that record I now know I could have done better. Those songs live in people’s hearts now, but whenever I hear those words or a few specific lines I think about what I wish I would have said. It only happens once in a while, but because of that I now make sure I can live with the material before we record it. Sometimes I change things live and it makes me feel good for that moment.”

I commend Green for this decision, but he cuts me off before I can say much more. “One time I was doing that a lot and Chris Conley from Saves The Day pulled me aside and told me ‘hey dude, people want to hear you sing the song they love. If you’re going to change something, make it small, but keep the chorus and key moments in tact.’ I realized he was right.”

With a career as long as Green’s one has to wonder how his views on releasing new music have evolved over time. One could argue that producing new material isn’t always a necessity for a band at the level of Circa Survive, as the group could easily tour and continue to profit off their beloved catalog. For Green however, creating and sharing new material is an absolute must. “What makes me excited more than the album being released is how it came together,” he tells me. “The way we’ve been writing since the last album (Descensus) came out is that we take some ideas, enter the studio, and we work together in this way that has left me feeling more connected to the material in a live sense. Some of these songs are so fucking fun to play live, and I really look forward to getting to play these songs. That’s what excites me. That’s not to say I don’t feel similarly about the older material, or that I am not grateful for how that material has helped us, but it’s just like – when we play that stuff it’s the same as it has always been. But this material is new, and the connect I feel to it is exciting and fresh. It gets me off so hard, and honestly – it’ll probably feel like everything else in the near future. At that point I’ll have to create something else to feel that way again, but right now some of these songs and melodies and words and the feelings with them…I crave it. I crave getting to sing and play for people.”

We briefly joke about the time between the album’s release and the band’s first tour as being something done so that fans have time to learn the new tracks, but Green tells me that is not really the case. “At this point in time,” he confesses, “I don’t even think of it in terms like that. I just want to be putting out new music. There is still stuff from the bands with a ton of records, like Portugal. The Man, that is new to me solely because I only recently discovered them. I’ve always liked that. It’s kind of cool when things work out that way, and I think that’s the kind of band we aim to be. We’re always trying to scratch our own creative itch.”

He continues, “Honestly, when we play these new songs live I’m not really looking to the audience for a reaction or for them to know it just yet. It’s like I’m possessed by this shit. Maybe it has something to do with the lyrics or the melody, I don’t know, but I am possessed by it. I cannot wait to play more of this material. I’m stoked for the record to be out and for people to have it, but above everything else I’m stoked to get out there and play it. Everything else after that is kind of in the background for me. It’s cool to see people react to the record and it’s awesome when they love the material, but I try to keep that stuff at a distance because it can get in my head and fuck me a bit. For me, success stems from that desire to play the material live.”

Some artists enjoy listening to their own music. Green never says one way or another about his own art, nor is he asked, but he does share a story about rediscovering Amulet track “Tunnel Vision” just hours before our conversation. “My wife said something about tunnel vision this morning and I remembered that I wrote an entire song for this record about getting tunnel vision and feeling depressed. I told her she had to hear it, played it for her, and even though we had both heard it before we were blown away. I remember thinking how crazy it is that I am in this band because that song is so good.”

[chloe-harassment-proof]

if we know the city, or even just the state she lives in, we could start the process of elimination and start contacting local community facebook groups and asking them if they know her and to spread awareness, we'll eventually find her community or her community will hear of her and hopefully then her employers, local police, and anyone else who can do something to get her offline will see. honestly showing showing screenshots of her onesided creepy rape role-playing with minors and saying she won't stop until someone kills themselves would probably help, there's a lot of parents online and i can see them rushing to find her and get her taken care off

hell, if someone is willing to make a tiktok or an instagram real or even a youtube video (maybe even make all three) summarizing all the info we have now there's a chance that might take off. and at the very least, the more sites that know of her and the more people that are talking about her, the higher the chance of someone who can get her sees what she has been doing

Oh we know she's in Colorado. Somewhere around Weld County too. Most of her info is available in the post pinned to the blog but some may be a bit dated.

But yes I'm sure if the people around her knew, and especially the parents, they'd want her locked up away from their kids.

I've been considering contacting some big youtubers that make videos about bad people on the internet to show them Chloe's case and draw more attention to her. I'm pretty sure Drama Kween would probably cover it and Izzzyzzz mighy too. Whang and Nick Crowley might also be willing to as well. If anyone knows of any other youtubers that cover stuff like this feel free to suggest them or email them this blog

[staggersz]

im bored so you get who proposes to who in my au 😞

Rinney

Finney proposes to Robin!! :)

They live in Washington D.C., Maryland by this time. Maryland has very nice beaches!

They’re walking on the beach together when the stars and moon are out, they’re holding hands, just talking about their future together, what’s for dinner, should they get groceries tomorrow, all those normal things. They’re looking at each other with that very gay look in their eyes yk? 🤨

Robin’s looking out at the water from the shore, kinda spaced out and thinking about how pretty it is. How relaxing it all is to be away from the place that scarred him the most.

Finney kind of slides his hand on to Robin’s cheek and turns him toward him to talk a bit and tell him some things, but Robin can see that sappy look in his eyes. Finney starts rambling about how great Robin is, how he’s glad they can be here together, a lot of sweet and sappy things and he goes down on one knee, pulls the box out, and if Robin wasn’t sobbing his eyes out before, HE FOR SURE IS NOW

When Finney asks Robin to marry him, Robin just nods because he can’t even get words out. Finney puts the ring on Robin’s finger, and they just stand there hugging for a bit before they even think about going back home :')

-

Briffin

This one is a bit complicated but easy to understand, stay with me here

It’s the evening at Billy and Griffin’s house. The sun is setting slowly on the lazy summer day in rural Colorado. The two are out on their back porch steps, holding hands. Sometimes they can go days without verbally speaking to communicate.

Billy does talk today though. He turns to Griffin, pulls the ring out of his pocket, and simply asks Griffin to marry him. They were always simple boys. Words barely needed to be said to express their love for one another

What Billy doesn’t expect is for Griffin to stare wide eyed at the ring, then back at Billy, before pulling a ring out of HIS pocket, signing to Billy that he wanted to ask him the same thing.

So now they’re sitting on the porch steps, staring at each other, with rings in hand. This wasn’t expected at all. But obviously, it’s very adorable. They just smile and start laughing a bit with each other that they had plans to propose on the same day, same time. They exchange rings, give each other a kiss on the cheek, and decide to stay out on the back porch for a bit longer. Maybe have a little campfire. :)

-

Brance

Bruce asks Vance to marry him!! :D (bet im surprising yall today)

They’re living together in Brooklyn, New York. More populated areas, better for comfort, in their opinion.

Bruce and Vance are hand in hand, walking around one of the many parks around Brooklyn. It’s dark out, but that’s not surprising for late October. They’re just walking for a bit and Bruce just starts rambling about all the things he loves about Vance, which causes Vance to stop walking and just be kinda confused !

Bruce keeps talking as he gets down on one knee and he’s a bit concerned because he can see Vance’s eyes widen and his body tense up. Vance is just thinking “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” over and over because he literally was not expecting this at all.

When Bruce is rambling Vance isn’t able to listen to any sweet things Bruce has to say about him. He’s just like “bruce. bruce. Bruce.” And in those moments Vance is saying his name, Bruce kinda starts panicking because he’s expecting “i’m not ready yet” from Vance.

But Vance nods his head, and he actually accepts Bruce’s hug when he stands to hug Vance. Vance says “i’m not crying” while him and Bruce are hugging even though he is SO crying and Bruce just smiles and goes with it. He’s never been happier with Vance.

-

Gwenamy

Gwen proposes to Amyyyyy! :3

They’re living in Massachusetts when Gwen proposes, and they’re having a picnic somewhere private. It’s been a tradition for them to do it at least once a week whenever the weather is nice.

Gwen feels like Amy has done so much for her and given her so much, so she wants to give back got all that she has done.

They both stand up to go stand at the pond and throw some bread to the ducks in it, and Amy is just already super happy about their date because they’re spending time together and it’s a good time. Amy always was a happy person for majority of her life.

Gwen starts going on a bit of a ramble about how thankful she is about Amy giving her so much and caring for her when they were younger and Amy is a bit bashful. She likes getting compliments about things she does. :')

When Gwen just pulls out the ring and asks Amy to marry her, Amy does the thing where she like smacks her hand over her mouth to stop herself from freaking out but she IS in fact crying because of how happy she is. 😞🫶🏻

Then they KISS WOOHOO LESBIANS WIN ‼️‼️

-

THATS ALL I GOT

[blazehedgehog]

Was there much merchandise for Sonic in the toy section when you were a kid?

Barely any. Until 2017, the only Sonic merchandise I can ever remember seeing was:

These Sonic and Tails plushes. They're pretty "big", which is a definition I use to mean they are bigger than, say, the average claw machine plush. We'll say about a foot tall, maybe a bit bigger. I have both, packed away in a box somewhere.

The Sonic 3 McDonalds toys, obviously. I had Sonic, Tails and Knuckles but I think I ended up getting Robotnik off Ebay at some point in the mid-2000's.

This Sonic gumball toy. Basically the closest thing we ever got to a proper Sonic action figure. Sonic's quills on the back of his head comes off, which is where the candy was kept. The whole figure is hard plastic, but the nose is soft rubber, which has a habit of getting torn off (or even just rotting away, since its getting old enough). Mine still has his nose.

And honestly... that was it. There was a big gap from 1993/1994 all the way until the Resaurus and Toy Island Sonic Adventure figures in 1999/2000. By then I was starting high school, meaning my "kid status" was rapidly evaporating.

(I had Sonic from Resaurus and Eggman from Toy Island).

I think right around that time, Denny's, of all people, had small Sonic Underground plushes.

I believe my girlfriend at the time got me Sonic and my brother ended up getting me Knuckles.

Then, for seventeen years, these were the last Sonic toys I ever saw. Now, there were Sonic toys out there -- I believe in the early 2010's there were RC cars based on the Sega All-Stars Racing games, and there were apparently Sonic Generations figures in 2011. No store I visited ever stocked them. They may as well have not existed.

When Sega launched Sonic Boom in 2014, they made a deal with TOMY to create Sonic Boom toys. It was a big deal. Part of the cross-media machine Sega was cooking up. Problem was, they were exclusive to Toys 'R' Us. There wasn't any Toys 'R' Us where I lived -- I had to travel two towns over to find one. So again, I never saw any.

It wasn't until 2017, when we moved from Colorado to Nevada, and we stopped in at the Reno Toys 'R' Us that I ended up seeing Sonic Boom merch for the first time. They were all shoved off on an endcap like they were clearance.

I ended up buying a set of 25th Anniversary toys there.

A better picture of them out of the box with the Eggman and Mecha Sonic figures friends bought me a year and a half ago (they're almost the correct scale to each other!):

Toys 'R' Us shut down in America early the next year (2018) and TOMY's exclusivity deal with them didn't matter anymore. That felt like it threw open the flood gates and Sonic merch is everywhere now.

Edit: while digging for the final photo, I happened to find this, which I took in 2019 or so, showing my Sonic Gumball toy, plus the Knuckles and Robotnik McDonalds toys sitting next to some Mario Party 2 pencil toppers I got out of a capsule machine in 2007.

[lunearobservatory]

Yk what, I shall fancy you by asking about Idaho and Oregon. Tell me your head cannons about the two of them.

And I mean all of it.

Whether it's crazy, angsty, or something else, I. Don't. Care.

Give me passion for the specific things you love or give me nothing

Grabs you firmly by the shoulders. You have given me Power. STRAP IN FUCKERS!

I'll start with Oregon. Little warning now for weed nicotine alcohol and a small hunting mention i guess? Just in case <3

He's chill! He's cool, he's doing alright. In his own words "good, not great". He seems pretty tight with Washington, they're besties.

The West Coast really do scream "dysfunctional family dynamics" don't they?

(Aka, my three girlfriends West Coast boys, and yes, they smoke weed.)

Anyway, he's with Washington the most. That bit of them hanging out together alone while ignoring California's calls? Yeah, that's them all the time. Washington info dumps about tech and Oregon is a little book nerd who absorbs info (Powell's city of books) and it's a very good combo. They share local coffee shop and microbrew recs and go hiking they are!! Hiking bros!!! They are also couch locked high as fuck watching runbacks of 2004 Cartoon Network bros!!! That La Niña bond!!!

Definitely get very philosophical a lot in conversation, like Wash gets viscerally emotional over space stuff and cried over Spirit the rover being shut down (rip to the real ones i miss them all) and Oregon is like god yeah man human attachment to inanimate objects is so wild. They'll either talk about it for hours OR bounce between topics so stupidly fast they don't even remember why they're talking about what they are or how they got on the topic from where they started.

Sorry for talking abt them forever I just think they're best friends.

As I mentioned Oregon is a big book nerd, he likes nature, probably has a house plant problem (they are all named), he hikes, and HUNTS!

This mf bow hunts, drag this out of my cold hands. Gun too sure but BOW HUNT OREGON. Washington gets icked about blood and killing animals probably so Oregon goes alone. Or maybe with Alaska sometimes? I really love Alaska and the PNW getting along for some reason.

Or, he goes with Ida :)

Idaho is Built Ford Tough thats for fuckin sure, this man's a farmer. And he fishes. He unironically owns several dad joke fishing shirts and a women love me, fish fear me hat. I love him. He's pretty outgoing, he Wyoming and Montana are all fairly good pals, hunting buddies and football friends definitely. Sometimes Colorado is alright to hang with, mostly when Denver is a little quieter.

And in a similar fashion, he and Oregon will get into bitchy fights bc Oregon really is still centered around Portland. Married couple spats yk?

Honestly they're just like. Domestic? I guess? They'll go on weekend hunting trips, Idaho really likes to cook esp with game, Oregon likes to try and pair whatever they're eating with a beer if applicable. It's usually applicable, they're "it's past five pm so it's socially acceptable to have a beer now, right?" people. They definitely have a wicked sourdough starter. Oregon likes kombucha sometimes and Ida thinks it's a hell liquid. They go to fuckin Albertsons and bring back like eight things they didn't need.

I've got a hc I've mentioned somewhere before that the West Coast/PNW including Ida have horrific nicotine addictions, and that Ida goes straight for cigarettes or steals off Oregon, who vapes and has a Juul that they scratched their names into with a pin. They're like That couple.

Idk they're in a way like the country/city boy dynamic but also not? Like Oregon is a bit rough and tumble he isn't a pure city boy. And Ida is like not country per se, more game hunting fisher boy. But it's similar yk? A little bit

Their dates are CUTE, they got that weekend hunting trip, Idaho is land locked so Oregon takes him down the coast, or like to an obscure distillery for flight tasting. Otherwise they just do movie nights and nice dinners. Oregon has taken them hiking to a nice place to see stars and has re-info dumped information from Wash about the stars and stuff and Ida is like wow that's so neat, absolutely not looking at the stars he's looking at Oregon.

I could get into angst but maybe i save that for now since I'm talkin about them bein cute and happy and i want them to have that rn tbh

[ao3gobi17]

Can you remind me what state Quaritch's prison was in? I'm bored, so I'm trying to put together all the locations that appeared in Custody 😅 and did you think about any specific city where Paz lived with her parents (Mexico)? Oh and where did Paz, Quaritch and Spider used to live? I'm sorry for asking about such details, but I love having everything neatly organized when I read something 🌸

When I started the fic - because it was possibly only going to be a one shot - I didn't think about locations at all. But in the end I have put Spider and the McCoskers in Colorado - I don't believe the accent is very notable there - so my idea is that the McCoskers are originally from somewhere else in the USA where the accent is strong, which would account for Spider picking it up and Q noting the accent and associating with the McCoskers. But yeah, Spider's in Colorado and my idea was that the prison is in an adjacent state - possibly Kansas. It would be a fictional prison in this case.

I didn't have a location for where Paz was raised (but the parents had moved to the USA) or where Spider was raised - I would think not crazy-far from Colorado because the McCoskers managed to keep physically in touch pretty well. Maybe Arizona or New Mexico? But as you can see I hadn't actually decided lol! <3

[collectivecloseness]

Road trip with eddie road trip with eddie ROAD TRIP WITH EDDIE IMAGINE, like you're vibing to music in the car or sitting on the roof of it while he plays guitar at night or doing random picnics whenever you see a pretty field, STAR GAZING AND SO MUCH MORE AHHHHHHH

A road trip with Eddie would be something he’s planned for ages. He’s saved up money, thought about things on the cheap, and when you both graduate together, you’re going to get out of this shitty town that hates him, and go on a summer road trip.

Eddie’s van is stacked with all the essentials, as well as pillows and blankets, so you two can sleep there for cheaper. You say goodbye to Wayne for a little while, as well as your family and friends, and all Wayne asks for is a hat for Eddie to bring back, to add to his collection. Mostly though, he asks for you both to stay safe, and for you to keep his boy out of trouble.

His sweetheart is of course along for the ride, he can’t abandon her! Plus, Eddie does think about how he’s going to he playing her for you a lot, on grass, or picnic blankets, or on top of his van. He thinks about bringing his acoustic too, but he needs the space. Plus, maybe someone will hear him playing for you on one romantic evening, and secretly be a talent scout or something! Anything to make a buck, especially on the road with you, and especially to add to the adventure!

Every night, every day, is like a date with Eddie! You two do get a lot of alone time usually, either out in the world, or with Wayne not home, but this is totally different. You have so much freedom! Plus there’s no worries Wayne or your family or any of your friends are gonna walk in while you two thought you were home alone, and doing a workout in the bedroom. Eddie parks pretty discreetly if you two wanna do that, or you may be in a hotel room for the night. He’s not gonna put in any less effort, or be quiet, or subtle, Eddie would never do such a thing, but he also guesses you don’t want some nosy grandma or a police officer snooping around the rocking vehicle either.

The whole year leading up, you’d both marked locations you want to visit. Although Eddie is very fun and adventurous, so he’ll do a detour if in a 7/11 you guys are getting your next meal from, there’s a brochure for somewhere fun just a town away. Why not! Not like you two will ever be back in... oh, Colorado, back in Colorado again!

At least not for the foreseeable future. Eddie saved up a lot, for years for this road trip he always a wanted to have after graduating. So while you two try to be as cheap as possible in some aspects, you don’t have to worry about money if you want to go visit a new place or attraction. Eddie loves the spontaneity! And if he gets an idea in his head, it’s bouncing around until his feet are firmly planted in the intended location. You’re free to do what you want, as young people, in love, out in the world.

Sometimes Eddie will want to take you on a date, on what he’s already affectionately entitled ‘the worlds longest date.’ So if you haven’t passed anywhere super fun for a while, he’ll take you to a diner for a full meal, milkshakes and desert, instead of snacks from a gas station, a hot dog vender, or sharing a burger from McDonald’s. He always wants to keep things new and exciting. And when you two are fed up with junk food, it’s time for a picnic, filled with so many fruits, and cheese, and wine Eddie convinced the cashier to sell in 80’s America. He even leaves a chocolate bar on his dashboard right, under the windshield for a while, to melt it, so he can try and make a little dip for chocolate covered strawberries for you. The man never stops trying for you.

Eddie wants to visit every state he can in his van, that he made sure was perfectly healthy before setting off into the sunset with you. Obviously places like Alaska and Hawaii aren’t exactly on the table, but for years, and especially in recent years, this hasn’t just been a road trip. It’s not just been a celebration. Or a milestone in his young adult life. And you know it. Eddie’s trying to find if there’s a spot for him in this country, that really sings out to him. Somewhere he could escape Hawkins too.

And with you knowing that, Eddie really dives into your opinion too. After all, even if you wanted to move to his least favourite, most boring, most cookie cutter hell on earth place, Eddie would always follow you to hell and back, because all Eddie wants most, is to be with you. So no matter what, Eddie will follow you anywhere. Because these states aren’t his future, his travels and new experiences aren’t, you are his future. And now he’s finally graduated with you, and had a summer just dedicated to being a fun young perosn in love, travelling around without a care, he can’t wait to somewhat settle down with you. In a place where you both belong, together.

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #22:

Covid Edition

Well, I've got the bug again Dollar Binners: a bit more than two years after getting Covid for the first time at my first real public event of that surreal era, a Valerie June concert that I fruitlessly masked up for, I felt off yesterday, then saw the dreaded double bars on a test I hauled from deep in the medicine drawer this morning.

It's Covid 2.0 for yours truly. Woo-wee.

I'm determined to be less sick this time around. My first bout set in while on holybobs with my buddy Greg and our families. I coped with the first day of feeling under the weather, unaware of the positive tests that would follow, by drinking about 10 Miller High Lifes; I figured the Champagne of Beers was just what Dr. Fauci ordered.

Greg matched me drink for drink and we had a blast, as always. Then came the most delirious night of my life: I was midway through an immense Beatles biography at the time and I became feverishly convinced that Ringo was there with me, processing his fraught childhood. I provided Ringo with some really good support; it felt like we were on a magic carpet in high turbulence.

And then I never really got better; yeah, I am one of those long-Covid people, dealing with periodic pain and setbacks that are happily surface level and not nearly as bad as some folks out there. Friends will tell you that I was kinda nuts beforehand so we can't blame Covid for whatever nonsense I've spewed at you these past 9 months (this is our 92nd post together!).

So this time around I'm taking the opposite approach: I'm chugging water and vitamins instead of High Lifes and I'm spending the day in isolation, visiting with all of you instead of Greg or Ringo. Hopefully neither of them show up: I'm a sucker for Greg and Ringo alike.

But let's set all that aside and talk about the first six months of Covid and how Shakey got us through it. Maybe you remember: Neil responded to the shutdown by moving to a mountaintop somewhere in Colorado and by cancelling all fees on his forever BETA level website. I don't know about your house, but at mine it was therefore Neil Young Time all the time.

To begin, we suddenly had access to all of Shakey's movies, most of which were just about mythical for hopeless internet cheapskates like me. I saw everything from the really pretty magnificent Mountaintop, which I'll write about in a future post, to Solo Trans, a scripted Vocoder/Shocking Pinks Neil vehicle directed by Hal Ashby, the guy who made Harold and Maude.

I doubt you have, and kinda hope you don't have, an hour to dedicate to this film so I'll summarize it for you here: imagine an invented from the ground up 80's newscast from Dayton, Ohio, complete with cheapo graphics and synthetic, asinine theme music dedicated entirely to covering a Neil Young show with paid, freaking out, extras filling the front row.

The whole thing starts with Harvest heavy dullness, then gets momentarily lovely for Helpless. Young then does a standard take of Ohio and attempts to make his amazing biography dull through Don't Be Denied before we get into the almost-but-not-quite-weird-enough Trans era stuff, including a preview performance of Landing on Water's I've Got a Problem.

Trans is great. But Solo Trans? Unless Neil is soloing on Mr Soul it's pretty underwhelming...

But The Shocking Pinks show up at the end, at which point the film tastes great, like soapy nuts. Neil sweats buckets and even goes ahead and invents yet another band while he's at it, turning the Shocking Pinks into The Bluenotes for Don't Take Your Love Away from Me.

Graham Nash is in 1 second of the film and Stephen Stills only shows up in archival footage - which is fitting for musicians of their stature - and Neil's even-more-beleaguered-than-my-own wife, Peggy, plays a catfighting groupie.

Ashby must have spent the entire shoot either drunk or cashing his paycheck. Probably both. Meanwhile, Neil had a vision for the film: The Wall meets Loony Tunes. And he nailed it.

Neil offered us more than just his bonkers films during Covid. We also had The Fireside Sessions: periodic footage of Neil in isolation. We got to see him wash his hands, talk earnestly to his dogs and play obscure and obvious tracks alike, all of it recorded in the most amateurish manner possible on his wife's iPad.

It was pure Shakey; shambolic, earnest and awesome.

Okay, that's all I've got. Ringo's calling and he wants my support. Thanks for visiting me in isolation everyone!

[thequeenofsastiel]

TW: Suicide

Just found out that someone I used to be very close to committed suicide. She ghosted me a few years back without any explanation, and I've never been able to figure out why, because we didn't have a fight of any kind. So I was always hoping in the back of my head that she'd reach out to be friends again, or at the very least, tell me what I did wrong. But now I'll never know. I feel so strange right now. I'm gutted but in an oddly empty way. She hasn't been in my life for a long time, so it's not like I now have a hole in my life. But I still absolutely adored her. She was one of my favorite people in the world. She was this smart, funny, sarcastic badass, who got me on a deeper level than anyone I've ever met. She always knew what I was thinking. I told her she could organize my things when I moved because I hate it and she loved doing that. She was the only person to whom I gave complete access to all of my journals. Even after we had only known each other a couple of months. I don't know why, but I just felt absolutely certain that she wouldn't judge me for a single thing she found in there. And she didn't. She's the only person I ever took with me to visit my grandmother in the summer in Colorado(which tbh was never a fun time bc my grandmother is SUPER judgy). She had this amazing Ursula tattoo on her thigh, and another one on her arm from Army of Darkness. She loved taxidermy. When she moved back to New Jersey she left her goat skull with me, saying that she'd come get it back one day. She never did. So I guess that makes it mine now. Which is a very weird feeling. I've carted that skull around for the last 12 years, knowing that it wasn't actually mine, and always expected that one day she'd come back for it. So the idea that it's now actually mine feels...pretty awful, actually. I mean, I love it, I always keep it displayed, but I mostly saw it as a reminder of her, and a beacon of hope that maybe I'd get to see her again, if for no other reason than to give it back to her.

Oh, okay, here are the tears, I was wondering when they would make an appearance.

So here's to you, Emilia. I'm sorry that I gave you a reason to not want to be friends with me anymore, whatever it was. I love you, and I hope that if you're out there somewhere, you're happy.