#posting this here as well because I didn't put sweat and tears on this for not posting it

[swagveryswagamazinf]

ok take charlie slimecicle holding my ponysona

[luxsky]

Kicking out

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.

Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).

It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?

Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.

It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.

Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.

Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.

Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.

You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."

You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."

You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."

He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.

I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.

"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.

Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.

The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.

His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."

''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."

That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.

He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.

"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.

Splash.

"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.

"I think my water just broke."

Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.

And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips - apology

❖ Character: Mikey, Nahoya, Draken

꒰ ͜͡➸The fight | ꒰ ͜͡➸Taiju/Hanma/Kazutora | ꒰ ͜͡➸Ran/Rindou/Sanzu

❖ Reader: genderneutral

❖ Wordcount: 2.4k

❖ Summary: What happens after their hand slipped? Can they fix your relationship?

❖ WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and reader getting hit once

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi!

☰ Mikey:

When Sanzu finally reached you, your cheeks were stained by tears, your beautiful face was all puffy from crying over a man who didn't deserve you or your kindness. His hand reached for your wrist so you would stop walking away. „Please… Let me drive you home“ he mumbled softly, knowing all too well how you feel, given that he was in your shoes once when he was a child. You agreed to his offer and let the pink haired man drive you to your- now only Mikey's place. „I- i can't stay here Haru“ you mumbled when you stepped inside the place you once called home, now merely resembling four walls with a roof.

He understood exactly what you meant and helped you pack without another word shared between the two of you. Getting all your stuff out will also clear Mikey’s head, it will make him realize that his actions do in fact have consequences, leader of bonten or not. He has lost you and he needs to feel it to properly understand what this means.

Mikey was miserable, not only did he hit his head against the concrete floor numerous times, he even needed medical help because of it and his memory was lacking due to the repetitive impact of his skull against the floor. „You can’t see them Mikey… In fact, i don’t think you will ever see them again“ Kakucho said serious, wishing he could strangle Mikey for what he’s done to you when all you ever did was to care for him, when he was too busy to do so himself.

That night Mikey returned to a dark house, the smell of your lovely dinner didn't fill his senses when he entered and the bed was cold and empty. He hated every second of this, not believing that he actually hit you. It took him hours to fall asleep but his dreams weren’t soothing him either, waking up completely drenched in his own sweat and reaching for you, needing your loving embrace… Right, he hit you, you’re gone. The realization sat in and it felt like someone ripped his heart right out of his chest. When he touched his cheek he found it to be wet, tears slipping across them, it’s like yours did earlier at exactly the same spot. This was when Mikey knew he had to change, that he needs to get better in order to get you back into his life somehow.

Weeks went by and you got used to living with Sanzu, the thought of living completely alone felt like dying to you. Yet you never once heard of Mikey and neither did anyone else. Just when everyone assumed the worst, a bouquet of flowers with a small note attached arrived - addressed to you, by Mikey.

„My dearest love, please forgive me for what I’ve done. There are no words in any language to apologize and beg for your forgiveness, let alone to justify my behavior. If you find it in you to face me one last time, I would be eternally grateful. This sunday at the place we met, i will be there until it's dark - Forever yours, Manjiro“

You sighed heavily as you read the small card, unsure if you even want to see him again but it was Sanzu that convinced you into showing up with him together. Once the dreaded day rolled around you got ready and couldn't stop shaking the whole way there. When you arrived at the small bridge close to a shrine you were almost hiding behind the pink haired man who eventually pulled you in front of him so you could face Mikey. He would be there to protect you if Mikey acted out but the man standing in front of both of you was almost like a stranger to you. He was well put together, looking like he slept better and ate more… He almost looked happy but the heartbroken expression upon setting his eyes on your frame told you otherwise.

As if he suddenly forgot how to speak, his mouth was opening and closing like a fish on dry land, he just stood in front of you, his hands slowly reaching towards yours only to fall limp to his side. You gave him a chance to explain himself and apologize, listening to the man you still loved with all your heart. Mikey was a miserable pile at the end of it, eyes red and puffy as he sank down to the floor, mentally preparing himself to watch you leave a second time - What he didn't expect was your soft hand stroking his cheek and holding your hand out to help him up. „I can't just move on but i will forgive you. You’ve changed, i see that and i'm willing to give you a second chance to let you prove that you've changed“ You mumbled softly and Mikey nodded, understanding that you need time but he would give you all the time you need, wanting to prove that he's a better man now and that he truly loves you.

☰ Nahoya:

The moment you closed the door you immediately called Souya so he could come and pick you up, which he of course did - You were like a sister to him after all. Hearing you cry into his brother's shoulder just outside of his place broke his heart further, making him feel like he gets choked with barbed wire, only for this burning rage to boil up deep inside of him. During this rage he felt helpless, not able to understand how he could have done that, what made his brain think that this is a smart choice and this feeling of helplessness and utter sadness drove him to the brink of insanity, trashing his place.

When you arrived at Souyas place, which wasn't far away from your now ex-boyfriends, he made you some comfort food before sitting with you on the couch and just letting you cry and scream. He hated to see you this upset, unsure how he could even help you, so all he did was to be there for you and listen to everything you had to say or be the shoulder to cry on - he even let you choose all the plushies you want to cuddle with from his room in a desperate attempt to make you comfortable. While he despised Nahoya for what he's done, Souya would never say a bad thing about him to you, agreeing that what he did was disgusting but his brother isn't a monster and this was -hopefully- just a one time incident.

The peach haired man spent days inside his apartment before he even dared to show up at his restaurant again, looking like a shell of his former self and his signature smile had completely vanished, looking like a much sadder version of Souya. His skin wasn't as thick as it used to be, every little thing annoying him and getting him to explode but he tried not to let anyone see this part, punching bags of flour or rice in the back just to get this rage out of him. His past actions are always running through his mind, how he couldn't see what he had in front of him and always flirting around as if he would find anyone better, but you were there all along. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand how you even put up with him a single day of your life, how you saw the good in him when there wasn't anything to be seen.

From that day on other people became the least interesting thing to him, not even looking at the women anymore even if they so obviously flirted with him or tried to get his attention. On some days he just ignored them but when his nerves were starting to wear out he would snap at them to leave him alone, that he had a partner already. That's usually when the realization hit - he didn't, not anymore. Every night he returned to a cold bed and he swore that it got colder every night without you at his side.

Souya eventually had enough of the way he was beating himself up and the way you so religiously avoided the restaurant so you won't end up seeing him, but he had a plan, inviting you over as Nahoya was looking through the storage room. Of course the door accidentally locked itself when you went to get a bag of rice for the blue haired man, almost jumping out of your skin when Nahoya was in there as well. Great. The last person you wanted to see was locked in with you, making a mental note to drown Souya in his own Ramen once you get out of there.

The moment Nahoya took a step towards you, looking like a beaten puppy you took a can from your left and threw it right in his face. He didn't even try to stop the impact from happening, nor did he say anything to the cruel words spilling from your lips, knowing you were right. He did treat you terribly and he couldn't do anything but take everything you're giving him right now, deserving everything coming from you. “I never want to feel your disgusting hands on me again” you spat and as much as he acted like it didn't hurt, it felt like a knife to his heart but he understood and respected it, not moving at all as you threw everything at him - words, objects, it didn't matter to him.

Only when you ran out of ammunition, you felt helpless and trapped, tears staining your beautiful face as you started to cry which gave him the last blow. He sank down to his knees, approaching you like a broken man “I don't want anyone but you” he whispered as he wiped away the tears despite the fight you were putting up with and swatting his hands away. The sound of your sobs filled the room but you weren't alone, the once so happy man hasn't been the same since the incident, crying with you now as promises spill from his lips, promising to be better and that he can be the man you need if you just give him one more chance and as much as you wanted to hate him - you just couldn't. Next to that, Souya probably won't let you two out until everything is okay again.

So all you can do is sniffle and nod, a frown appearing on your face again upon seeing the black eye slowly forming due to your attack on him moments ago. “I guess we're even now” you whisper as you press the softest kiss on his closed eyelid.

☰ Draken:

Draken didn't want you to leave, that was the last thing he ever wanted and he could feel his heart clench in time with the door falling shut as he sank to his knees. The wave of emotions that came over him was too much to handle, fear, heartache, anger, sadness… His hands brought pain to others from time to time but never to you. The way he lost control over his own actions was what made him so angry with himself but once these initial emotions ebbed off, it was as if a veil of fog was lifted and he clearly saw just how poorly he has been treating you these past few weeks. Emma's death day creeping closer left him feeling on edge but it was no reason to behave like a monster. The way he kept comparing you to her or the way he thought of Emma bouncing on his lap when it was in fact you left him feeling embarrassed, humiliated of his own mind. It was enough to disgust himself, a fist connecting with the sturdy wall at each mistake he made over the past week.

He spent the night tossing and turning in bed until he gave up on sleeping to tend to his beloved punching bag to punish himself for hurting you. How could he have compared the person he loved with his whole heart to his ex - no matter the circumstances she left and he knew that he had to fix this, to let go of the woman haunting his mind.

In the morning Draken peeled himself from the floor where he eventually fell asleep and made his way to Emma's grave, wanting to let go for real this time but he didn't expect to see you sitting in front of the tombstone with tear stained eyes, having a conversation with his former girlfriend. You were begging Emma to let him move on, to let go of him and that you would never try to replace her but that he deserves to be happy, even if that's without her - but as long as her claws are so deeply anchored in his heart, he won't ever be able to move on with you or anyone else.

It was breaking his heart further to see you there like this, begging at a grave for his happiness. “He is my happiness, Emma. You and your memory will always be honored but I can't watch him suffer like this much longer.” you sniffled as you got up and wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.

Draken was a tall man and you felt his presence and without turning around you spoke up “I know you're here. Was hurting me not enough? You follow me now too?” you asked offended and in this moment he knew more than before that he needed to step up his game, deciding to come out of his hiding spot. “I know I'm the last person you want to see right now but I didn't expect to see you… here” he explained himself which made you laugh bitter. Eventually your eyes landed on his bruised and bloodied hands, knowing exactly what he's done the whole night and you hated to see the way guilt was written all over his face, knowing that this was just a stupid accident. “I don't expect you to forgive me but you deserve an apology” he said loud and clear, keeping the polite distance between the two of you.

“You're right, but I'm not sure if I can forgive you… but i'll try to” You said with a sad smile, willing to give him a second chance but Draken knew that if he mistreated you ever again you would be gone without a further word.

Network: @tokyometronetwork

[bunwritesss]

My Pain Will Range From Up, Down And Sideways

Summary : Daryl is used to face his migraines alone, with the few pills he can find here and there. And when he has to go through one without any meds at his disposition, he finds you.

Genre : Hurt/Comfort

A/N : Hi! Welcome to the very first oneshot I am posting here! I already wrote some that are posted on my AO3 account, and I will probably be posting them here too! I am using these oneshots to practice my english as it is not my native language, so I apologize for the mistakes in advance 💕 Hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Have a nice day/night! 🥰

Living in the apocalypse was hell. You all had to give up hot showers, comfort, and safety in order to survive. And at some point, Daryl came to realize he would have to give up his cherished pills as well. The only ones able to calm the pounding inside his head, during his frequent migraines. He had went into every single store around, hoping to find some, but it had already been stolen by other survivors.

So he came to keep his very last pill in the bottle, refusing to take it. Maybe because the idea of a world without any trace of the only thing able to calm him down was too scary, too overwhelming for him. Maybe because he kept it for a very hard one. Whatever the reason was, the noise made by the single pill in the plastic bottle at every single step he took was slowly but surely driving him crazy. And it took a single look at his strained face, his pale complexion and his red eyes for you to guess what was happening.

He usually waited a while before giving up and taking a pill, but for some reason he didn't this time. You looked in disbelief as he was grunting in pain, trying to act like everything was fine.

So you dropped your axe on the floor and slowly approached him, a cautious smile on your lips.

'Daryl, you alright?'

He nodded, his eyes not meeting yours.

'Are you having another one of these migraines?'

' 'm fine.'

He waited for a few seconds and started walking away from you.

'I can help you feel better!'

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to you with hopeful eyes.

'You can?'

You winced. Considering how quickly he folded, the pain must have been unbearable. The Daryl you knew would have told you to go to hell, that he wasn't a child and did not need to be fussed over. He watched as you nodded, taking his wrist in your hand and leading him to your cell. He was different than usual, more...pliant. Letting you manhandle him without any resistance. You prompted him to sit on your bed, setting the drapes you used at curtains on the bars of your cells, both to prevent light from entering your room, and to hide the bars from Daryl's view. You knew how much he hated feeling caged. And to be completely honest, you hated it too.

'Avoiding light and loud noises helps a lot making migraines feel less painful.' You explained as you sat on the bed, slowly bringing his head to your lap.

He nodded, still grunting. His forehead was covered in sweat and he had been feeling on the verge of tears since it began, menacing to let them drop everytime you said or did something nice to him. Your soft touch felt foreign on his battered skin, and he swore he never heard a tone as soft as the one you took to explain him what you were going to do.

'I'm gonna try and massage your head, it used to make mine go away within an hour. Something about making the tension leave your skull, I guess.'

You felt him tense as you started touching him, and immediatly removed your hand.

'Are you okay with that?'

'As long as ya can make it go away.' He shrugged.

You bit your lip.

'I'm scared I cannot make it go away, but it'll definitely be less painful!'

He did not reply and you put your hands back on both sides of his skull, as he finally put the full weight of this head on your lap. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on both sides, pressing just enough to ease the tension in his head. He slowly warmed up to your touch, his whole face relaxing. You kept massaging his head, mindlessly humming the chorus of a song that had been stuck in your head since you wake up, moving your thumbs from his temples to his forehead.

'Yer good at this.'

You smiled, confident in your magical powers. You had always been excellent at making the pain of other people go away, it was one of your biggest talent.

'I know.' You replied, proudly.

He snorted at the confidence, immediatly wincing as the pain came back tenfold.

'Sorry.' You mumbled apologically, Daryl smirking at your pained expression.

You felt so bad for him it almost seemed like you were the one having a migraine. As you rubbed his head, solely focused on making him better, you heard him sighing of contentment, almost leaning into your touch.

'Is your migraine gone?' You asked him, surprised.

'Nah, but it feels good.'

'I'm glad it does.'

You smiled at him even though he couldn't see it through his closed eyes. You continued the massage for at least half an hour, the grunts of pain becoming rarer and rarer, and your back hurting more and more as you were leaning on him. And finally, as you readjusted your position to make yourself more comfortable, Daryl opened his eyes.

'I think it's gone.'

'Yay!' You exclaimed, careful to avoid being too loud.

His face flushed as he seemed more conscious of the fact he had willingly let another human being touch him for so long, and about how good it felt. You started speaking again, softly, as if you felt how uneasy he was.

'You should sleep. I'll bring you some water too, it helps a lot.'

'I should get back to work-'

'No. You rest.'

Your tone was stern, and he almost chuckled at how serious you looked, raising both his hands in the air in surrender.

'Yes ma'am.'

You waited for him to get into the bed with your hands on your hips, and he caught your eyes with a sincere smile. Although he still seemed embarrassed, he stayed grateful.

'Thank ya for that.'

'Glad I helped.' You smiled sweetly, walking away as he let his head drop on the pillow.

[piplupcola]

Some shameless POS literally used AI to steal my friend's animated film

I usually don't post stuff like this but this shit's insane and downright insulting. I graduated from Ringling College of Art and Design in 2022, a pretty well known animation school in the US, and every animation student on their final year of college has to make an animated film for our final thesis. If you have any idea of the animation making process, you would know that making an entire film by yourself in one year is batshit insane and extremely exhausting, to the point where I'm still feeling the effects of the process on my physical and mental wellbeing 2 years after I graduated. Once more, my friends and I did it during the covid period, which was another level of hell. I was literally watching my grandfather's funeral while working in the labs at 2am because I couldn't fly home to attend it because we had to make this film. This film was our lifeblood, the culmination of 4 years of hell at school which was suppose to be our gateway into the industry. Tldr, it's fucking difficult to do, especially on your own.

So imagine 2 years later and I wake up to a bunch of messages on our alumni chat where a dear friend of mine posted a link to a tiktok video of someone literally stealing her entire film and superimpose it shot by shot and claim it as their own ad for their AI game. As animators, we aren't unaware of people stealing our films and reposting them elsewhere. Heck my own film "The End" was stolen from our school vimeo and posted on tiktok BEFORE IT WAS EVEN OFFICIALLY RELEASED, and that tiktok got hundreds of thousands of views while a year after my own real release my film is still struggling in the thousands.

But this

This is a fucking new low.

Can you imagine? A fresh graduate going through literal blood sweat and tears to make a film on their own that is so important to their future in the industry, to get them a job, with a film that represents a part of themselves to the world, just used as fodder for some stupid tech assholes? It's infuriating. It's insulting. It's literally a big fuck you to the hundreds of students who spent their lives toiling to make these films from the heart who are just desperate to get into the industry.

The animation industry right now is in complete shambles. People are graduating from animation schools with thousands of dollars in dept only to be met with a wasteland of minimum wage and lack of funding and competing for jobs with people who have already been in the industry for years affected by the massive layoffs not only in the movie but also the gaming industries. These films we make for our thesis aren't just films made for fun, they represent our lifeblood, our only opportunity to get a job as a graduate in this sea of hell. If you didn't make a good film, chances are you're never even stepping foot in the industry ever. It's our golden ticket that we would put thousands of hours through, sleepless nights and pushing through no matter the circumstances of sickness and pain it caused us.

And now some dumb fucking AI using dickbags see that and decide it's worth nothing.

Here's a link to my friend's real film. Please go watch it and support her work. I'm not even gonna link the other piece of shit tiktok because I don't want that video to even get a single extra view but here's a recording my friend made so you can see this malarkey side by side.

It's heartbreaking to see my friend's film barely getting any views while the stolen garbage is already in the thousands. I hope the person who stole my friend's work and made that shit dies in a fiery car crash and go straight to hell.

I cannot emphasise how we must not let this shit continue to happen. We're living in a fucking dystopia and unless we do something about it and support those affected by it it's only going to get worse. They're already expanded from stealing people's still art to stealing people's entire films, if we don't stop this nothing we create would ever be safe.

My friend's film:

The shameless fuckheads who stole her film:

[catt-leya]

Hi uh can I get number 11 “How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!” from the smut prompt? 👀

Perhaps Rick and his girl are having a lot of fun and she's super soft with him and in a praise mood and wants to praise the life out of Rick and he's been so stressed and just wants to relax for a while. She gives him a blowjob he won't forget so soon and she kisses him all over his body and the next morning after she rode the life out of him he just wakes up and sees all the hickies on his body. Perhaps for season 9 Rick? I have a soft spot for the old man lol

Snow Kiss (18+) || Rick Grimes

I'm sorry it took me so long to post it but when I saw your request I knew I had to do a winter themed fic about it....so it had to be that late this year 🤭👉🏼👈🏼💗

And I'm sorry it isn't a gif with him and his short hair but I couldn't resist (it's perfect for the story)...😍

Trigger: dirty talk, breeding (?), praise kink

Puffing, I stomp through the high snow and try to keep up with my boyfriend, who has much longer legs and therefore makes much better progress than I do.

With each of my steps I exhale heavily and traipse through my own breath cloud, which is snow-white due to the cold.

Although it's cold as hell and the snow reaches my knees, I'm sweating all over my body and have the feeling that tears are about to come from desperation.

So I stop, panting, and mutter, "Short break."

Surprised that I would ask for such a thing, Rick turns to me, "A break?"

I'm not usually one to give up or ask for a time out, but even I have my limits and I prop myself up on my thighs, which are burning like I've been in a hurdle race, "Yes, please."

I try to fill my lungs with deep breaths, ignoring the biting cold, as Rick mutters, "Are you weakening?"

Grumbling, I bend over a little further and reach for a handful of snow. Before he can react, I'm already throwing the small ball in his direction, hitting him square in the face.

I can't hide a big grin as the little snow clumps slide off his face and he stares at me in disbelief, "You didn't do that."

I grin proudly from ear to ear, "Oh yes I did, you old sadist."

I realize I'm in serious trouble when Rick lets the backpack he took from me earlier so I wouldn't have to carry it so heavily slide off his shoulders and drop carelessly into the snow.

Panicked, I try to get away from him as fast as I can, but before I can take a single step, Rick is already on me, throwing me to the ground with him.

He doesn't worry about crushing me or me hitting my head because the tons of soft white snow are under me and I claw at his winter jacket as I stomp and try to turn us so he's in the snow and I'm on top of him, but laughing I barely have the strength to move him an inch and he himself looks at me out of eyes shining with joy.

I used to think blue eyes looked cold and aloof, but since I've known Rick, I've completely discarded that theory. Especially here and now, when his eyes have taken on an even more intense shade of blue due to the white snow, I can't get enough of being looked at like that by him.

I don't even notice how wet my clothes are getting and when Rick's gaze briefly slips to my lips, I take the opportunity to push him up with all my power and roll on top of him, giggling, eliciting a soft '"Ufff" from him and I grin broadly at him, "Well, how does that feel."

Through my jacket, I feel him put his hands on my hips and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, "To be honest, pretty good, actually."

Snorting, I shovel another helping of snow into his face and snort softly as he shakes his head to get rid of the snow, "You can really be a bad girl. Just bury your dear boyfriend in the snow, tz tz tz."

He raises his gloved hands to my cheeks and I lean down smiling and kissing them on the icy cold lips.

Actually, snow is not a good thing for our family and friends, but right now I can't think of anything better than lying in the freshly fallen snow with Rick and kissing him like it's the last time.

I elicit a soft sigh from Rick and his grip on my cheeks tightens as I mumble against his lips, "We're going to get sick. Especially you, if you keep lying in the snow, Rick."

But instead of letting go of me, he tries to get his tongue between my lips and I press them together tightly, making him moan almost tearfully, "Oh come on."

Grinning, I move away from him and slide off his hip to awkwardly stand up and offer him my hand, "Later. I promise."

For a brief moment, he just looks up at me before reluctantly grabbing my hand and letting me pull him up.

When he's back on his own two feet, he shakes his head to shake the snowflakes out of his dark hair, and I squeeze his hand, "Oh, don't pout."

I have to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing out loud when I see the snort he pulls, and when he mumbles, "I'm not at all," I can't help myself. He just stares at me as I can't stop laughing until he then can't hold back himself and laughs with me.

I squeeze his hand and rejoice as I see the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and he pulls me closer, "I'll carry you home."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah right."

"I mean it," his voice is rough and I frown as he looks at me softly and says, "I can see how hard it is for you in the snow. I'll give you a piggyback ride and carry you at least until the trees get thicker and the snow isn't so high."

When I don't respond he pushes me toward the backpack, "Come on. You take the backpack."

I blink in perplexity, "You're serious."

Smiling, he rolls his eyes and gets down on one knee in front of me.

So I take the backpack and strap it to my back before standing behind Rick and hesitantly climbing onto his back.

Briefly I think I'm pushing him face first into the snow, but he slowly straightens up and I clamp my arms around his neck and rest my chin on his shoulder, "I can really do this on my own too-" he chokes me out, "Sh, now just let me do this for you."

Concentrating, he bites his lower lip to keep from falling over with me on his back, and I keep breathing short kisses on his cold cheek and neck, between which I keep whispering "Thank you" in his ear.

Rick has always been a kind-hearted person, so it shouldn't surprise me that he offered to carry me, but with every step he takes through the high snow, I fall for him even more than I already do.

I realize how hard it must be for him to carry me and the backpack on his back, but he doesn't stop until we reach a spot where the snow is already packed down and we don't have to walk very far from here to see the gates of Alexandria.

Our home.

I press one last kiss on his cheek and then he lets me slide off his back. Without hesitation he turns and reaches for the backpack on my back, "Come on."

He pulls it off my back and I brace my hands on my hips before fixing him, "I don't want to sound ungrateful for you carrying me, but what am I even here for if you won't let me do anything."

Smiling, he taps my nose with his finger, "You're here because I love you and like having you around."

He pushes a strand of hair out of my face, "And I trust no one more than you to watch my pretty ass. Because I'm sure we both love that one."

Rick isn't wrong but still I childishly show him my tongue and march past him, "Well, let's get your pretty ass to the warmth."

It takes us considerably longer to get home than it would if we had normal circumstances without a pile of snow, and Rick spends at least as long in the shower.

But even I'm not necessarily shorter under the hot water stream and when I get out of the shower I can't even see myself in the mirror because it's fogged up from the water vapor.

Without seeing how my hair is lying, I try to fix it a bit and then pull a hoodie I took from Rick over my head.

It's too big for me, but the comfy size is just what I need right now and the fact that the hoodie also smells like Rick only makes it better.

I put my panties on and then pull open the door to our bedroom.

Rick is already in bed in gray sweatpants and a loose white shirt, and when he hears me pull open the bathroom door, he lazily opens his eyes.

I pull my wet hair out from under my hoodie and smile softly at him, "Is someone tired?"

Leaning my hip against the door frame, I have to smile even wider as he sighs and closes his eyes, only bringing a "Hmmm" to his lips.

I love watching him sleep and can barely restrain myself from staring at him.

Especially because it makes him look so incredibly vulnerable and the hard features disappear from his face.

It's rare that he can really relax and when I think he's not going to open his beautiful eyes again, I tiptoe over to my side of the bed and just as I'm about to settle down on the bed quietly Rick hums, "I can't sleep."

I wince briefly, not expecting to hear his voice again today, and then turn to face him.

He still has his eyes closed, but he says softly, "I can't stop thinking about how we might not all make it through the winter."

For a brief moment, I just look at him and can only admire him.

He is trying everything he can to help us all live in safety in security and expects nothing in return. He would give anything for us.

For his family.

I take a deep breath, "We're going to make it, Rick."

Only now does he look at me again and I can see the fear in his eyes. Fear that he only shows to me.

"You don't know that," at the words his voice is rough and soaked with uncertainty.

I meet his gaze while sliding onto the bed and sliding myself over his legs so I'm sitting astride his thighs, "Maybe not, but I know you'll do your best and you can trust us to do our best too."

I place my hands flat on his chest and he places his large hands on top of mine, "It's good to hear you say that, you know."

To lighten the mood a bit, I wink at him and lean in, "Maybe I should praise you more. Adore you."

It was obvious he was going to roll his eyes, muttering, "Don't exaggerate."

But the way his eyes lit up when I said that gives me a great idea and I pull my hands out from under his, "No, no. I'm serious, I should praise you more."

He frowns and I reach for his shirt, "Take it off and I'll show you how good you are to me. I want to reward you for all your hard work."

Rick exhales heavily and the candlelight starts to flicker in response, making shadows dance across his body.

I can see in his eyes how much he wants me and how much he wants to be rewarded by me.

Slowly he straightens up a bit and he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

Even after all the time I've been with him and the countless times I've seen him naked, it never prepares me to see his bare skin.

As soon as he settles back into the pillows, I grab the hem of his pants and pull them down over his hips and legs.

Already I can see that my words have actually turned him on and as I look him in the eye again, I reach for the hem of my hoodie, but he quickly shakes his head, "Leave it on...I like it when you wear my clothes."

Smiling, I shrug, "If you don't want to see my tits..."

"You're no less hot when you're dressed, sweetheart," at that he licks his lips and I whimper softly.

I know exactly what he can do with his tongue and I actually briefly think about sitting on his face, but I want today to be about him, so I push the thought away and instead lean forward and kiss his leg just above his right knee.

He immediately knows what I'm up to and sits up enough to lean on his elbows and watch me stroke his thigh with the flat of my hand, kissing my way closer and closer to his hardening cock.

Softly I hear him murmur, "You are so incredibly beautiful."

Then I look up at him and kiss the tip of his cock as light as a feather.

He draws in a loud breath and I lick once over his shaft, making him wince and I breathe harshly, "That's it."

He raises his hands and I know he wants to put them on the back of my head to guide me, but I shake my head and he drops his hands, "Sweetheart?"

I kiss his hip bone and when I start sucking he moans softly.

My mouth is so close to his cock and yet I don't take it in my mouth and that must drive him crazy.

That's why I mumble softly, "Just let me do it" and turn to his other hip bone.

I feel his cock against my neck and when I can't take it anymore myself, I slide down and let it slide between my lips.

The deep moan coming from deep in his throat forces me to squeeze my own legs together to keep from shoving a hand between my legs and I moan softly with my mouth full, "God, I love your cock."

I always take Rick's cock deep into my mouth, but today I want to reward him and make him happy, so I try to relax and take more of him into my mouth bit by bit, all the way down my throat.

Tears start to come and when I have him almost completely in my mouth, I look up at him to see straight into his eyes.

With huge eyes he stares at me and his hands are buried in the sheets under him to keep from grabbing my head "Holy" he takes a deep breath "Shit".

I can feel him twitching in my throat and I can't suppress a gag reflex, which seems to please him because he squeezes his eyes shut tight and moans softly, "Good girl."

I love it when his voice gets so rough and deep when he's aroused and even now my heart does a leap at his pitch. 

Spurred on by the way his chest rises and falls so quickly, I let him slide out of my mouth a bit and take him into my mouth again as deep as I can.

As I do so, I slide one hand over his hips to his flat stomach, squeezing lightly so he doesn't meet me halfway with his hips each time to be back in my warm mouth.

I want to reward him and not be taken by him like I normally am.

Without taking my eyes off him I give him the blow job of his life and when he groans loudly and tugs my hand off his body to thrust into me, I know he's close to cumming in my mouth and although I don't want to stop, I let his cock slide out of my mouth one last time with a smacking sound and when the cool air in the room hits his wet cock he tears open his eyes and growls, "Oh shit, don't you quit. You better take me between your..."

Giggling, I put a finger on his mouth and run my other hand feather lightly over his cock, the tip of which is already showing precum, "Shhh, wait and see. As promised, you'll get the reward you've earned."

Skeptically he looks at me with dark eyes as I bend over him again and kiss his lower belly, "You" I kiss the spot next to his belly button "Are" His left rib "The" the right "Best" a nipple "What" the second one "Ever" collarbone "Happened" Adam's apple "To me".

His hands grip my hips tightly and I put my lips to the side of his neck "You're always so good to me and shit, can you fuck me so good."

A harsh laugh slips from his lips, catching in his throat as I reach between us again and slowly jerk him off, "Do you want to cum inside me Rick? Do you want your reward?"

A jolt goes through his whole body and he moans softly, "Yes."

Slowly I disengage from him and kneel down so I can pull my panties over my butt and toss them carelessly onto our bedroom floor.

Because the hoodie is quite long, I grab the hem and pull it up enough so that Rick can see my naked lower half as I spread my legs and position myself over him so that I would only have to lower myself to take him inside me.

His eyes are fixed firmly on my naked pussy and as I see his eyes light up at that, I say softly, "I can't keep the hoodie up and ride you, Rick. Will you please help me with this?"

Lost in thought, he mumbles a hoarse, "Hmmmm?" and I reach for his hand and place it on my hip so he's holding the hoodie up, "Can you hold the fabric up? I want you to see how well you fit inside me and how far you can stretch me. Would you do that for me?"

Seeming to be completely out of it with excitement, he asks obtusely and somewhat delayed, "What would you want me to do?"

I stifle a laugh and lean down to kiss him lightly on the lips, blocking his view so he can at least focus a bit on what I'm saying, "Would you hold my sweater up, Rick?"

His cheeks are flushed and I'm sure he's a little embarrassed that he's been so distracted that he didn't even catch my request and probably only caught the words "stretch" and "fit inside me."

Immediately, he rests his second hand on my hip as well and says softly, "Of course. Sorry."

It's like a rush to have such power over a man like Rick.

To know that I can drive him out of his mind like this and that he'll do practically anything for me.

It's addictive.

Lips inches from his, I reach between and place his tip against my wet pussy.

At the feeling of having him almost inside me, I can't suppress a pitiful moan and with a low growl Rick just pushes me down on top of him, making me wince violently and he presses his lips firmly on mine.

With my mission in mind I whimper softly, "You're so big." 

"Oh shit" his cock twitches inside me and I try to straighten up on him as best I can, looking back to where he is inside me.

As I slowly move on top of him he can't take his eyes off me and his fingers dig firmly into my hips as he follows me with his eyes as his cock slides into me again and again, leaving a wet trail of my pussy on him, causing a soft smacking sound that I was ashamed of before, but now it only makes me hornier.

To support myself I put my hands flat on his chest and moan softly how good he feels inside me and how much I love him.

For a brief moment he tries to push me off of him to roll over me, but I push him so hard I can back onto his back and let my hips gyrate slowly, "Let. Me. Do. it."

Whipped, he drops his head back into the pillows and looks down at me as if I fell out of the sky for him and landed straight on his cock.

Again and again I lower myself onto him and each time I tighten around him.

The first few times I do it consciously because I know he likes it, but after a certain point it just happens, but still it's not enough for me, so I look helpfully into Rick's eyes and he tilts his head, "Do you need my help to cum?"

The way his accent is thicker as soon as he's turned on always makes me weak and even now I tremble above him and moan pleadingly, "Yes, Rick. Please let me come around you."

Without taking his eyes off me, he slides a hand from my hip between my legs and at the first contact of his fingers on my clit, I cry softly.

A knot forms in my abdomen and I ride him faster, "Oh God, you are the best man I know and I want you to cum inside me, please oh please...oh Rick I...please..."

I'm getting more and more whiny on him and he himself is always the more controlled one when it comes to sex, that's why he helps me maintain my movements and keeps coming with his hips towards me, "Of course...shhhh...relax...I...shit of course I'll cum inside you if that's what you want..."

Hectically I nod and squint my eyes as I realize I can barely hold myself back and gasp, "Now Rick...please now..."

I'm barely able to fight him off in any way as he pulls me to him and presses his lips hard to mine, moaning into my mouth, "Let go..."

I wince and press tightly against him as the knot inside me loosens and I tighten around him so tightly that I feel like my pussy wants to cling to him to pull him deeper inside me.

As I begin to pulse around him, he also begins to twitch inside me, saying my name, like a prayer.

Hoarsely I gasp again and again, "I love you. Fuck I love you so much." And his fingers on my hip squeeze so hard that I'm sure I won't get away without marks.

For a brief moment my eyes go black and I don't open them until I blink as Rick asks softly, "Are you okay?"

Still his softening cock is inside me and I know my cheeks must be red as I ask softly, "Did you like it?"

He licks his swollen lips and raises his hand to run his thumb over my lower lip, "Yes sweetheart. Thank you."

He spins us around so I'm on my back and he rolls off me to crawl out of bed.

Almost always Rick is on top of me, or at least does most of the work, and now I remember why that is.

It's exhausting as shit.

Breathing heavily, I lie on my back and follow Rick with my eyes as he disappears into the bathroom and then comes back to me with a damp towel in his hand.

I don't resist as he pushes my legs apart and gently cleans me up.

Weakly, I mumble, "How bad does it look?" Because I actually don't like it when he cleans me up after sex, even though it's incredibly sweet of him and nothing to be ashamed of, especially since he's no less to blame for how I look between my legs every time.

That's why he raises his eyebrows skeptically and says dangerously quietly, "Now cut the crap and just so you finally get it, you have no idea how much it turns me on when you make me come inside you and how hot it is to see my cum run out of you."

He's never said it so straight before and my heart stops for a brief moment.

We just look at each other and very briefly the thought comes to me, how it would be if I would always let him come inside me.

Until now, I've always tried to work out when it would be reasonably safe, although of course we've never had a guarantee of that either.

But now I'm thinking about what it would be like if I stopped calculating and we called his bluff.

What it would be like if Rick got me pregnant and I carried his child under my heart.

It's a brief thought and before I can stop myself, I utter the words, "Do you want a child with me?"

He pauses in his movement and stares at me, "What?"

With a pounding heart, I say, "How about we just try it and expand our little family? I'm young, Rick. I can still get pregnant and I would like to have a child with you someday. So why not do it now? Don't you want it?"

I chew on the inside of my cheeks as he slides his gaze over my face and he carelessly drops the towel on the floor, "I love you and that's why I'm saying no. Please let's not try. If it's by chance we can't change it, but I don't want to try it on purpose."

I don't know exactly what answer I was expecting, but certainly not one that would bring tears to my eyes with shame.

He makes it sound like the very thought is sucking all the life out of him and I clench my teeth tightly to keep from starting to cry, which of course he sees immediately and says softly, "Not that I wouldn't love to have a child by you, but I love you too much to force the risk of pregnancy on you and maybe it's selfish, but I don't want to live with the thought that I might be to blame for you dying during childbirth. Fuck, I wouldn't survive losing you. So no. I'm not going to consciously try to get you pregnant."

He slides down on the bed next to me, "Please understand. It's incredibly hard for me to deny you your wish, but I just can't."

Silently, I look at him and then nod.

I actually understand what he means, but I look him firmly in the eye, "Okay. That's where we are today."

He frowns and I gently continue, "But it's not final."

I was expecting rebuttals, or a telling off about how he certainly wouldn't change his mind, but he too nods slowly, "Okay. Today's status."

With those words, he takes me in his arms and I fall asleep pressed against his chest and snow outside our window.

The next morning I am awakened by a deep laugh and I press my face into my pillow as I ask, muffled by the fabric, "What's wrong?"

I pull the blanket further over my body because it's so damn cold and Rick coughs laughing, "Oh my god...how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!"

Groaning, I roll onto my back and lazily open my eyes. Immediately my eyes fall on his torso, which is covered in hickies.

Rick looks like a 16 year old who made out with his first girlfriend and she desperately wanted to immortalize herself on him.

It looks so ridiculous and hot at the same time that I laugh out loud and wink at him, "Sorry, but I'd say you're mine."

He playfully rolls his eyes and I stare at the hickies on his neck before he pulls a sweater over his head and says good-humoredly, "I look like a teenager but I love you anyway," and I stick out my tongue.

Even though he's a little older, it doesn't mean he's boring and can't take a joke. He is perfect and I love him more than anything in this world.

After that night, a couple of weeks go by as the winter mellows and I'm in the kitchen making breakfast for Rick, who came home late last night, when I feel like throwing up across the kitchen counter.

Without thinking, I run to the patio door and yank it open just in time to throw up in the flower bed next to it.

Tears run down my cheeks as I retch and can't get anything up.

It feels like I'm going to die and that's when it hits me.

I prop myself up on the ground with my hands and whisper "shit" over and over.

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @tropodyn @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @igotbasicdrag

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 💗)

[magniloquent-raven]

hope yall are in the mood for some aro max because i wrote some aro max (and terrible-at-feelings-but-trying-to-help billy lmao)

posted on ao3

**

"Alright, shithead, spill." Billy lands heavy in the empty space next to Max, arms crossed. He's not looking at her, and his expression is his version of blank. A careful mask that doesn't keep the ghost of a scowl from pinches the corner of his mouth. 

It's not the worst way he's ever approached a conversation, and it's not like she was really watching whatever's on the TV, but irritation grips her insides tight anyways. 

Christ, he didn't even bother washing the engine grease off his face before ambushing her. His work clothes are streaked with grime where he's been wiping his hands all day. No doubt Steve's going to make him clean the cushions later. 

Which would be funny, except that might leave her without a bed for the night. 

She eyes the side of his head, annoyed at his dumb purple scrunchie and all the curls slipping out of it and the little blue crystal stud Steve bought him that he's been wearing ever since. She hates his whole face right now. Looking at him try to act like the big brother he never was makes her chest squeeze unpleasantly.

"Mind your own business." She crosses her arms. And then uncrosses them, shoving balled fists into her sweater pocket instead. 

"Fuck that, you made this my business when you decided to mope on my couch and eat all of my food for three fucking days." 

"Steve's couch," Max mutters. 

A muscle in Billy's jaw jumps. It's grimly satisfying to hit a nerve. Misery loves company and all that. Max doesn't even know the full extent of the issue, but she's heard enough snippets of arguments to know cohabitation isn't going as smoothly for them as Billy wants everyone to think. 

"Not the point."

Max scrapes her fingernail along the seam of her pocket, digging up lint and stale crumbs. This sweater needs to be washed. It was thrown over the back of her desk chair, and she didn't bother with the sniff test before she grabbed it on her way out the door. It wasn't until she'd fled half a block away that she noticed it reeked of stale sweat. And it's only gotten worse in the days she's spent here with no change of clothes.

He's still waiting for her to say something. Like it's that easy. He's a hypocrite if he expects her to spill her guts just like that. He's never made a single thing easy, he doesn't get to just…

But maybe he doesn't actually care, if flat out demanding answers was his game plan. Maybe it didn't matter that his approach was shitty. "If you wanted me out of the apartment, you could just say that." She's not sure she actually believes that, but it's the only thing willing to come out of her mouth. 

Billy turns to look at her, a crease between his eyebrows. She doesn't know if it's concern or confusion. Maybe both. Or neither. His face is hard to read sometimes, when he wants it to be. It unnerving. Not as scary as it used to be, but still. She liked it better when he was awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"I would've just said that, if that's what I was getting at, dumbass." He stops. Sighs, short and sharp, and rubs his forehead. "Look, I heard Ellie's moving in with that girl she's been seeing…"

Max jolts. The reminder hits like a bucket of ice water dumped on her head, a sudden shock that lingers, unpleasantly trickling down her back and leaving her palms clammy. She grinds her teeth. Forces out, "Yeah, so?"

"So, I can put two and two together, alright."

"Well I hope so, seeing as you graduated high school and all."

"Ha ha. Hilarious. You know what I meant."

Of course she knows. He's jumped to the same conclusion everyone else has. What El thought when she broke the news, all big sad eyes and careful words, walking on egg shells. What Lucas thought when she went running to him in tears and a rank old hoodie. What Steve thought last night when he told her she could get whatever toppings she wanted on the pizza he was ordering. She's tired of pitying faces and sympathetic gestures, and she's tired of everyone's assumptions. 

"I'm not in love with her." 

"Oh come on, everyone knows you two had a thing—"

"Would you just fucking leave it?"

Her eyes start to burn. There's a weight in her chest she's been carrying for days—or maybe it's been there for months, years, and she's only just noticing it now—pressure on her lungs, iron fingers gripping her heart. It gets heavier the more she dwells on it, and Billy's prodding isn't helping.

"Max…"

"I wouldn't have crashed here if I knew you were going to hold it over my head like this."

"Bullshit, I know you didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Could've figured something out." She cringes internally at the lie. It's petulance alone that keeps her from admitting Billy's right.

Besides, even if all her friends hadn't been too busy, too preoccupied, too unavailable, even if she'd settled for a patch of floor in Lucas's dorm room—which definitely would've gotten him in trouble with his girlfriend again—it's not like they would've been any less nosy. In fact she might've had less time to herself before the interrogation started. 

Billy scoffs, "What, like running back to your mama and hoping she's sober enough to give a fuck about your teenage melodrama—"

"Fuck you!" Max snaps, bristling with anger too big to stay trapped in her ribcage. It burns in her veins, tension trembling down her arms, her hands, her fingers. She wants to hit something. Someone. It's making her palms sweat and her shoulders ache. Keeping still. Contained. He's trying to get a rise out of her, trying to get her to slip and say something, and she's not going to give him the satisfaction.

"You lived through actual monsters trying to kill your friends, and you're acting like a girl not liking you back is the end of the world." 

"That's not…" Max lets out a slow breath through her nose, jaw clenching shut. 

"Stop being a fucking pussy, Max." 

"Oh that is rich coming from you."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Have you told Steve you hate the way he's always throwing his parents' money around?" Max sneers back at him. He withdraws all at once, mouth snapping shut, eyes going dark, seething. That muscle in his jaw is twitching again. "Yeah. Of course you haven't. You don't have a leg to stand on here."

He stares at her for a long time, not saying a word. It's worse than if he'd yelled or broken something or threatened her. It's uncertain, and tense, and she can't do anything but stew in her own impotent rage. There's a part of her that wants to jab at him more, cut deeper into that wound. There's so more she could say, but it gets lodged in her throat when she notices the way he keeps digging his fingernails into his forearm. 

She uncurls her fists in her pocket, and her knuckles protest after being clenched for so long. Flexing her fingers doesn't make it feel any better.

When Billy finally speaks he's so quiet she barely hears him over the canned laughter crackling through TV speakers. "At least I can admit I love him."

A dozen different impulses all crash into each other. Kick the coffee table. Punch him in the nose. Scream. Break something. Anything. Any goddamn thing. 

Max's whole body tenses, flinches, and a sound rips out of her, a scoff, a sob, a wet, mirthless laugh. And the dam breaks. She cracks. Crumbles. Angry tears burn her eyes. "I don't love her and I never did."

"Max—"

"You don't fucking get it, Billy, nobody gets it! Nobody listens!" She swipes at the wetness on her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "She was one of my best friends, so I thought maybe… Things never 'clicked' with Lucas, so I thought…" Words fail her again, petering off into a frustrated growl. 

El didn't understand when Max ended things. She didn't understand why. Max hardly understood at the time. But she's done a lot of thinking since then. About every bullshit excuse she'd ever used to break up with Lucas when they were kids, and how much of a relief it always was. The dread she buried whenever she took him back because she missed having him around. The same emptiness she pretended she didn't feel when she was trying to convince herself kissing girls instead was the answer. 

Being more sure of herself should've made it easier to say, but it hasn't. She takes a breath.  

"I've never felt that way about anyone. And I doubt I ever will."

Billy eyes her carefully. Neutrally. His silence makes her twitchy. 

"Okay," he says after far too long, then gestures vaguely at her, "What's all this about then."

"I…" Max blinks at him. He blurs. She blinks again. A whole spectrum of emotions swell up between her ribs, pressing out like a balloon about to burst and making her feel queasy. "That's it?"

"Did you want me to say something else."

When she told Lucas he said she must be a late bloomer. Not to worry, because he's sure she'll get there eventually. El took it personally. Yelled. Cried. Didn't talk to her for weeks afterwards. When she told Mike she was single by choice thank-you-very-much he laughed at her. Mocked her. Whenever she visits her mother there are a million and one questions about why she hasn't found a husband yet.

She didn't want her friends and family to say any of those things, but she expected them to. She didn't expect this.

"...No."

"Okay," he repeats, with just a hint of impatience. "So?"

"It's…" Her voice is unsteady, small and wavering. "I don't want to end up alone."

Billy sucks in a short, sharp, barely audible breath. 

Max curls her arms around herself, palms flat against her sides, tucking deeper into her sweater. "I'm glad El likes this girl, I'm, fucking. Happy for her. Or, I was, I guess. But she barely talks to me anymore, and now she's moving out of our place—Everyone just keeps fucking leaving. Because they've all got someone more important than…than the person who's only ever gonna be just a friend."

It feels so much more real now that she's said it out loud. The yawning abyss of her future threatens to swallow her whole, and all she can do is stare at its teeth. No shuddering gulp of air is enough to make her lungs stop burning, and she's given up trying to dry her eyes.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do if all I have isn't good enough." 

"Shit," Billy mutters. "Max, Jesus Christ, just. C'mere." He turns to face her, prodding gingerly at her elbow until she slumps against his shoulder. He stinks like sweat and motor oil and shitty cigarettes, and his embrace is awkward, hesitant, but she clings to him anyways. 

He lets her cry. Lets her gets tears and snot on his shirt. Doesn't say a word while she sobs her heart out. Eventually she goes quiet, half expecting him to pull away immediately, but he stays, arms loosely wrapped around her. 

Max snuffles, then wrinkles her nose. "You need to shower," she mumbles.

He snorts. "Yeah, whatever, Captain Snot. You're not exactly a basket of roses either."

She huffs quietly. 

"Listen…" Billy starts, and pauses. "I chose to be your brother. I decided to be. I didn't keep you around because my dad made me or because Steve likes you, I did it because you're important to me. And your shithead friends love you too, Max, they're just idiots. You have to tell them what's going on instead of hiding in my living room for the rest of your life."

Max sits up, wiping her face on her sleeve, and lets out a jittering sigh. He's right. She knows he's right, some distant part of her knows it, but it's buried too deep to feel like it's real. Maybe his words soften the earth packed around it, maybe hearing him admit he cares will make it easier to dig that part out, but she's too exhausted to pick up a shovel yet. 

She nods. It's all she can manage.

"Alright. Now help me flip these cushions before Steve gets home."

Max cracks a tiny smile. "You're terrible."

"Yeah, and you're stuck with me. Jokes on you."

"...I can live with that."

✨tag list✨

@spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

[garoumylove]

I know there will be several talented people doing write ups on this but I just want to add my own two cents as well because this got me emotional.

The reason I write Garou fanfics so much is because I find his psyche absolutely fascinating and close to my heart. He presents with such anger and sassy cockiness while dealing with so much inner turmoil. And most of the time we don't get to see that inner turmoil but every once in a while ONE/Murata will lift that veil through one panel or a piece of dialogue and we get a glimpse of the troubled young man and all those painful feelings inside. And it's that pain, inner conflict, the vulnerability he guards so closely that I love to explore and that makes me fall for him over and over again.

This panel is one of those. As I've mentioned a while ago, I'm not a fan of the way Garou has been characterised in the manga since he reappeared on the surface at the end of the MA arc and especially not a fan of his characterisation post MA arc. This, however, is the Garou that I love. The troubled young man who pushes his way through life with a heady mix of bravado and stoicism. And then we get this.

"I'd love to show you how 'easy' it would be...' accompanied by a somewhat gruesome inverted panel with blood splatter. To me, this is the first time Garou is letting out his pain and frustration at his loss with Saitama. His ideology, while simplistic, got him through a tough childhood and adolescence. He clung to that goal and shed an exorbitant amount of blood and sweat over it only to discover it was never going to be. The loss of that would be gut wrenching. And finally here we get him giving us a glimpse of that raging pain. Of that vulnerability.

But what gets me even more is the next line "You worthless hunk of junk that can't even bleed or feel pain". This is one of the most obvious and clear times that Garou is coming face to face with his own pain. To me, it's like he's finally admitting that he is in pain. Not physical pain, but just this existential pain that he finds himself sometimes drowning in and doesn't know what to do with.

And then next panel he just goes right back to work with the older guys looking after him which I find so fucking sweet and adorable, telling the lad to put everything down and stop working.

At this point I see Garou starting to deal with all that backlog of pain and trauma. He is not in it all the time but he allows it to come to the surface, holding it, feeling it and then he goes back to this new low-key life. This isn't something he is going to process in one go. This will be an ongoing process. Diving head first into that chaos, those demons in his head, into everything that hurts and unravelling it a little at a time before swimming back to shore and going on with his life.

It's a process that I think is a lot more poignant and powerful than the happy-go-lucky de-fanged puppy characterisation we currently (but didn't used to) get in the manga. The Garou we get in the webcomic still has those fangs, but he lets himself be more than that little by little. One day, he will be at peace with who he really is and every time I think about it, I kinda want to tear up.

[playertwotails]

hello, i saw an ask were someone asked you if you thought tails ever attempted to find his parents and it made me wonder if you ever thought of a scenario were tails father had no idea he even existed or he was led to believe by tails mother that she gave him away and he couldn't find him?

Okay I read when you sent it and been thinking about this one for the whole time. Sorry for the late reply but my sister had her baby so things have been busy.

But moving on from personal stuff, I love this idea but I'm gonna take it a step darker....what if Tails' mother told his father that Tails tragically died.

So going into my take of an AU for this here and it's gonna be long so putting it under the cut

So what if Tails' mother was actually from an influential family or something or they both are. But image is VERY important to her. So when she had Tails with his two...well..tails she was immediately not okay with this cause (spongebob mocking voice) "whAt WoulD oThEr peOpLe tHInK." So Tails' mom starts-a-plotting.

So while Tails is still a baby or like at least like a one year old, she goes on a trip with just her and Tails. So during this "trip" she tragically "loses" Tails and she goes crying home that he died in like a storm or an Eggman attack or something. In reality she legit just left him in a random forest on West Side Island.

So without a body Tails' father looks for him but tiny little guy in a big world and his mom purposely telling him the wrong area means 0% chance of finding baby Tails.

Years then go by and Tails and Sonic start gaining notoriety for their shenanigans and their adventures get back to Tails' parents sphere of influence.

Now obviously they can't 100% confirm that this Tails is their kid but like how many two tailed foxes can there be??? So Tails' father is pretty gun-ho of tracking down Tails just to like at least see if he's maybe their long lost kid, but his mom uses the excuse of she's still so "upset" and "traumatized" from losing him that she doesn't think they should go cause "What if it's not him?! She couldn't possibly handle loosing her baby a second time!!!" (cue fake tears worthy of an Emmy). But the whole time she's like internal sweating like "oh fuck what if he finds out that's our kid and I actually straight up abandoned him!!"

She manages to delay a trip for them to find and talk to Tails for a while but eventually Tails' father just goes and tries to track him down himself.

Side note 1) - I'm thinking that Tails' parents didn't have another kid because while his mom claims it's from the trauma of losing her first baby it's really because after her first kid came out with what she believes to be a deformity she's scared a second one would too. So no surprise siblings for Tails (though that would also be interesting to explore - I ain't got the brain capacity for that in this particular post)

Side note 2) - it would be interesting if during her stalling time she hires people to try and either straight up kill Tails or just someone who would fake the paternity tests to say Tails is not their kid. Maybe both???? You know what yeah why not both.

I feel like a hitman going after Tails would be interesting though cause I'm always a sucker for protective older brother Sonic and you can bet that it would be in overdrive if someone goes after Tails with the express purpose of killing him.

So while Sonic and Co. are fighting off hired hitman and trying to figure out who sent them, this random ass guy shows up claiming to possibly be Tails' father. Immediate alarm bells start going off in all their brains (double for Sonic if you include the SAT-AM cartoon episode where Eggman legit made fake parents claiming Tails is their lost kid for the express purpose of kidnapping him).

So they all start looking into this guy and actually do go through with a paternity test. And surprises of surprises when it come back positive. They then proceed to do it 5-8 more times with different Drs (or whoever does this idk) to make sure he ain't faking it somehow. But nope turns out that yep this is Tails' real dad who is saying he's been looking for him this whole time. (press X for doubt from Sonic and Tails)

But when Tails' father starts explaining his side of the story including where Tails' mother claims to have lost Tails. Tails and Sonic are immediately suspicious cause where his mother told his father he was lost is basically on the other side of the planet from West Side where Sonic found him.

They reiterate this to Tails father, who they are still suspicious of that's he's lying but they trying to figure out what's real and not from what he's saying. And the man is confused cause lookin at a map he also knows 2 + 2 ain't equaling 4 between their two stories.

Cue all them deciding to go to Tails' mother to see what she says from her side of things. The whole time still having to fight off various hitman cause they still coming.

They get to Tails' parents home town and Tails' mom immediately plays up the "oh woa is me, I don't want to get attached until I know he's really my baby." And at this point she's at the top of everyone's (but maybe the not the father's yet) list of being behind the hitman so no ones buying her bs.

So to try and catch her in her lie they ask to do the paternity tests with both of them (not telling her they've already run Tails' fathers multiple times with all positive results). And lo an behold, both come back negative. And she immediately tries to play the "oh how tragic you are not our kid, but best be on your way" but whoops the father reveals the like 6 positive tests he's already done so now she's caught in her own lie.

And idk where to go from here so if anyone want to "yes and" this post (or really any of mine) feel free. Just @ me so I can read them.

Hope you liked my take on this idea

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(i understand i am late to the own impromptu fic-fest i am only half modding, but its the heart behind it that counts.

presenting my submission to: Harry Buys Sirius Presents ft. Remus (and also They Can Be Jewish) Fest.)

--

It was almost worse when Harry knew the answer for once wouldn't be no. That was one of the first things Harry learned about Sirius when he came to live with his godfather. Sirius rarely said no.

Potpie for dinner? Yes.

A day at the seaside? Yes.

Help with a Charms essay? Yes.

Harry's world had blown wide open with all the yes's slowly learning how to navigate a guardian who was kind and cared. And if Sirius ever said no, it was for a good reason. It was to keep him safe. When Sirius said no it was because he loved him, truly, not out of spite or bitterness or greed the way the Dursleys had told Harry no.

And this particular request, Harry knew would be a yes. Sirius wouldn't even blink.

Because the second thing Harry learned after coming to live with Sirius was that his godfather loved to spend money on him. He had asked for pocket money once that term before the first visit to Hogsmeade and Harry swore he could feel the room shake with how quickly Sirius reached into his pocket, pulling out all the galleons he had and pressing them into Harry's hand. Only to be followed by another small satchel of galleons coming through post the next morning, landing on the breakfast table with a thud.

Sirius was generous.

Sirius was kind.

Harry only wanted to return the favor. Which is what he was thinking, as he stood on the outskirts of the sitting room door, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hand, absently wondering if he could just tear it in half because merlins sake it was hot in here, wasn't it? All the fire and the wood burning, the house was warm, and Harry was sweating. About to ask his godfather for money to go Christmas shopping shirtless.

"Alright there, Harry?" came a gentle voice from the side of him and Harry was surprised he didn't jump. Having gotten used to being in a house with two people who didn't yell or scold.

"Just great," Harry said feebly, pulling his sweaty hands away from his shirt and looking towards Professor Lupin--Moony. Remus? Professor Moony. Harry hadn't quite figured out what to call him, every time he attempted an odd sort of combination of all three names spilling out-- Proony. Remessor.

"Are we spying on Sirius for a reason?"

"He does weird things when he's alone...hums made up songs."

"He's always done that," Remus said fondly, casting a glance into the sitting room where Sirius was tidying away, a soft hum of a made up song carrying above the crackling wood fire. "We used to make fun of him for it. Did it in exams too, and James and I would take turns elbowing him."

Harry couldn't help but smile, nerves disappearing a little, "I think he's alphabetizing books..."

"I can't elbow him out of doing that," Remus mused, his hands going into the pockets of his trousers as he leaned against the wall, "Whatever it is you're going to ask him, Harry, I'm--"

"Thats the problem, see."

"Sirius?"

"Mhmm."

"Well...I'm not Sirius."

Remus wasn't Sirius.

"...Do you think you can help me get to my vault?"

--

Christmas morning arrived, after Harry had spent hours waiting for Sirius to go to bed so he could steal wrapping paper from the closet downstairs. Up until that moment, Harry had never found it annoying that Sirius seemed to be awake nearly all the time, his godfathers presence providing a sense of security that Harry never had. But it was pretty damn obnoxious when Harry was attempting to be sneaky, trying to do something nice, and his godfather was around every corner. Putting finishing touches on cookies; setting a timer for the roast in the morning; adding more presents under the tree.

But despite how tired he was the next morning, Harry couldn't help but lean into the joy spreading throughout Number 12. From the records playing, to the sticky-buns Sirius had made for breakfast, to the gifts that Sirius and Remus had thoughtfully picked out and bought just for Harry.

"Should we go have lunch?" Sirius said, clapping his hands together and making to get up off the sofa. "I don't know about you but all this Christmas cheer is making me starved and considering I was once in prison, I think I'm an expert at--"

"You're comparing eating three hours ago to Azkaban?" Remus asked at the same time Harry opened his mouth to say,

"I have one more thing!"

More blurted.

Sirius looked toward Harry with small smile, "One more?"

"For...you," Harry managed, before pulling out a horribly wrapped box that had been hidden behind a stack of couch cushions the duration of the morning, Harry panicking every single time Sirius got too close. It's a fort! Harry had offered as the worlds worst excuse, but Sirius didn't question it.

"You didnt need to get me anything, love," Sirius said gently, looking at the box in front of him, "I'm happy just to be here."

"I know I didn't but...I...did anyway, so you might just have to...deal with that."

Sirius snorted out a laugh before running his fingers underneath the seams of the paper, followed by the cardboard box.

A pair of patterned purple socks.

Because Harry remembered when Sirius saw a dark purple coat in the store at Diagon Alley and said what a great color

A blank journal.

I've just run out of pages in my old one, remind me to pick one up, would you, babe?

A book.

Oh this was my favorite to read when I was your age

A wrench

I need more tools to keep fixing up the bike, I thought I had a box somewhere...

What did you get person who gave you everything?

Harry wasn't sure. But he knew he remembered everything Sirius had once said he liked, taking notes on his favorite person the way Sirius had apparently taken notes on Harry.

Sirius looked down at the collection of items now open in the cardboard box, before slowly looking towards Harry, smile as wide as the ocean on his face.

"I love every bit of this."

[bolithesenate]

@charmwasjess consider yourself warned, this is a fic that, if/when i post it on ao3, it will need so many warnings

i don't even know where this all came from because i sure was in a MOOD when i started writing this and it is VERY different from basically all my other stuff.

putting it under the cut because neither Dooku nor Sy are having a happy fun time right now and that stays the same for most of the fic (i have not yet decided how it will end)

premise of it all is that Sifo didn't fully die after being shot down and Dooku still does the Dooku thing of keeping him in a cryopod in his basement, only Sy eventually wakes up and well... is confronted with his best friend, his dear heart, his secret love having Fallen so far from the path.

And Dooku is confronted with Sifo returned from the grave and he's had him killed him already once (for all that it was worth), there is no way he can do it a second time

or is there?

Dooku lay before him on the floor, face warped in pain and clutching one hand over the large electrical burn spidering over the side of his neck and jaw where Sifo had hit him. 

Oh.

Not a droid.

No wonder that one had lasted so long.

Sifo stepped above him, loosely pointing the crackling end of the electrostaff right at Doo's jugular. It would be so tremendously easy to just… push down, push out. 

The warping purple electricity reflected off Dooku's dark eyes, like fireworks in the night. That was one thing Sifo had noticed. Dark eyes, never Sith-yellow. He wondered why that was. Probably some sort of Sith-alchemy, or even just lenses (it wasn't, they were Doo's eyes, the same eyes he'd been staring into ever since he'd been a Youngling in the Crèches).

There was no contempt in those eyes, no struggle. Just acceptance and relief.

Relief.

Laughter didn't as much tear itself from but through Sy's throat.

Relief? Dooku wanted relief? Through death?

Not by his hand.

Disgusted, he threw the staff to the ground, where it clattered lifelessly to the side as Sy let himself fall down right over Dooku's midsection, straddling him once more in a by that point well-rehearsed motion. They were both drenched in sweat, an indication that they must have been here fighting longer than he'd thought. 

It was so funny, in an ironic way, how their current predicament perfectly mirrored their nights, just with both of them actually wearing clothes.

"Oh, Doo," Sifo whispered hoarsely and reached out to press the tips of his fingers onto the fresh burn marks, caught somewhere between gentleness and cruelty, "Did you really think that salvation would come that easily?"

"No," Dooku admitted.

"You're right it doesn't." Sifo's voice dropped. Then, he curled his hand into a vicious claw and pressed down. Dooku's scream was just as hot and scalding as the soft skin of his neck that only just was starting to blister. 

Sifo dipped down and licked into his open mouth, swallowing up all the pain and fury the other man let out – pain and fury Sifo was causing. It shouldn’t have been so exhilarating, being the cause of such turmoil in someone so Dark.

And yet…

And yet.

Dooku buckled under him, writhing. He could have thrown him off, Sifo was sure of that. The Sith had twice the strength and triple the motive to just do away with him – that was if he could break the spell Sifo had on his body. He ground down on Dooku’s lap. It was the one weapon he had, the one tool against this fool. The Sith desired him, wished to break him completely, wished for him to break him in return.

He could do that.

They had already proven that they were great at it, even.

No need for a bed when there was the slightly padded floor of the training room.

Sifo moved his face, dragging his lips along Dooku’s jawline until he reached his ear. “You may never accuse me of such infidelity again.” His voice came out strangely sweet, a complete antithesis to the venom he felt boiling in his heart. “We can be monsters, but only for each other.” It was just as much of a statement as it was a promise. He tightened his hand on Dooku’s throat even more and a silent gasp was his reward.

[the-new-hip-priest]

A long post wherein I recount my experience at a Limp Bizkit show and get increasingly emotional about the power of live shows and their resulting memories as a coping mechanism for deep depression.

Wednesday night was honestly the most fun I've had in several years. It was full of childlike glee and giddiness and excitement. And sweat. Lots of sweat. I knew that I'd have a blast, having already seen them back in 2012, but this time Limp Bizkit put on one of the best, engaging live shows I've ever seen. It was a big, bouncing nu-metal party and the atmosphere was electric. Everyone in attendance was there to have a good time. No fighting, no dickheads, no munted macho bullshit, just roughly 1000 people ready to party like it's still 1999.

The opening act was HANABIE., an all-female Japanese "metalcore" band, but calling them metalcore feels reductive because they incorporate so many different elements into their sound (electronica/hip-hop/punk/nu-metal as well as Harajuku culture). I really want to gush about them but I'd just end up regurgitating the entire wikipedia article. Their energy was so contagious and the crowd was equally keen and receptive. There was even a circle pit during We Love Sweets which I couldn't help but join. I got a gentle accidental elbow in the face, and slipped on some empty drink cans but got picked up immediately. In a matter of thirty minutes I was already drenched and forming my first bruises.

As for Limp Bizkit, I've been writing and deleting and re-writing and re-deleting this paragraph since Thursday morning. I can't find the words. From a distance, watching myself get all emotional about this band in particular is actually hilarious. My thoughts are so muddled but I've realised that I've been so touched by this concert because they made me feel like a kid again. I've been lucky enough to see some of my other all-time favourite bands live - highly regarded and renowned performers, but I wasn't listening to Nine Inch Nails or The Fall or Radiohead when I was eight years old, so they can't evoke the same emotions.

I fangirled and flapped when Wes came on stage and as soon as they opened with My Generation, I was overcome with such a powerful, innocent euphoria that kept me jumping and screaming all night long. I'm struggling to describe it because I didn't think I was capable of feeling that sort of natural high ever again - I thought I had destroyed my capacity for pure pleasure through drug use in my 20s. Yet here I was, utterly jubilant and energetic, one row back from the barrier directly in front of possibly my favourite guitarist of all time. Fred chatted a lot with the crowd (I uncharacteristically gushed and giggled like a school girl when he was talking to us down the front), and a surprising amount of mens underwear got thrown on stage. They did a fun transition from Rollin' into Raw Hide, covered Killing In The Name, did a big sing-along of Careless Whisper, and even played Re-Arranged which was a nice surprise. I would have loved for them to play Out Of Style, but I understand people want to hear the old stuff. The atmosphere was non-stop fun from the opening note until the end of Don't You Forget About Me which they play as they leave the stage.

I had been hoping to have some sort of acknowledgement or interaction with Wes, like catching one of the roses that he throws into the audience. Given that I was at the front, I took a shot during a quiet moment between songs and yelled out "Hey Wes, wish Alie [his fiancee] a late happy birthday from me!" and he walked straight over to me and threw me his pick! Achievement unlocked! I reacted like a QTE and almost burst into tears when I realised I caught it. Almost. I didn't want to fuck up my fancy makeup and contact lenses. As my partner pointed out, most of the roses had been torn to shreds by the end of the show, but I got a personalised treasure to hold on to. I've kept it close to me ever since (and played my own guitars with it, naturally). It's like he gave me a little talisman of hope and happiness and I really need something like that right now. December is always a hard time of year for me. On top of that, I've been feeling so incredibly bleak about the future and sometimes find myself making certain plans in the back of my mind. But this silly little bit of plastic with a picture of Lisa Vanderpump with a beer bong labelled Borland/Wes' Baphomet logo on it makes me feel like I can keep going. Like I want to keep going in spite of my fear and my pain. I almost feel a tongue-in-cheek sense of resentment, like, "how dare one of my favourite musicians inspire some sense of hope in me during such a tough time?"

Someone filmed the entire show and I am eternally grateful to them. I can giggle at my own distinctive cheering early in the set. I can watch Fred's playful shenanigans with the front row. I can see my interaction with Wes. I can remember. There are times when it feels like the last ounce of hope has left your body, and it causes you to forget. You no longer feel capable of caring, so you simply forget how much you love music and comedy and every other little thing that makes life worth living. That's why I have a big folder sleeve filled with physical memories that I can turn to, full of ticket stubs and entry wristbands and the like so I have something tangible to tie back to my experiences. I've got some drumsticks and a NIN setlist as well. Having the means of reliving those moments is an invaluable tool when fighting major depressive episodes. I will sit there and carefully examine each piece and something will stir inside of me. It could be the faintest echo of a feeling, but it will come, and it will remind me that life is worth fighting for.

[matchbookarmy]

Okay, I'm back. Sorry I needed a bit of a break from things. Just from everything. Not this blog but everything in [gestures vaguely] life.

As some of you know, my phone broke back over the summer and I lost all of my open tabs and where I was on my journey. That definitely was a setback and I didn't know how I wanted to handle it.

But now that I've had time to think about it, I've decided to.... restart my journey.

Lol.

Now I know you probably think I'm insane, but here are my reasons. When I first started reading I was only reading MCU based fic because I thought you had to choose a fandom on AO3. It wasn't for a while before I figured out I could just click on the ship's tag and see everything. So I was severely lacking in 616 fic. Also I didn't read everything when I started. I tended to skip AUs, a lot of the more kinky stuff. As I read more I opened myself up to a lot more types of fics.

And then finally my last reason is I want to change the way I interact with fic and fandom. I want to comment more and read WIPs and I dunno. I want to share and spread my enthusiasm. I also want to pull back in some ways, *except* on this blog. I want to get to know you and gush with you all about these two guys we love so much and all the creativity that gets poured into this fandom and this ship and these characters, the blood the sweat and the tears of it all.

So feel free to message me about anything. I try to be good about answering requests, though, I don't always have a fic that perfectly matches what you want.

I was thinking there's the findingstony blog that finds specific fic that you know exists, but maybe this would be a good place for people to submit things that they are looking for that they haven't already found. Like more general requests of tropes or plots that you want to read. Again I'll do my best to match you with something, but I'll also put them out to my followers (I don't have a ton but we'll see what the community can do).

Anyway, I'd like this to be a community to talk about all these things we love. I know I still have 2-3 unanswered asks, and I haven't forgotten them. For the person who asked for heartwrenching angst with or without a happy ending, I'm trying to decide if I want to rec you the most heart-shattering fic I have ever read. 🤔🤔🤔 (Are you open to Tony being evil?)

Anyway, does this restart mean that I may never get to some truly amazing fics at the end of the alphabet? Almost certainly. There are over 55k Stony fics on AO3. The first time I did this was a ship that had about 500 fics. I read them all in a couple months. I'm not going to complain about having too much good stuff.

But you can feel free to send in your own recs as well. Again, I'd love this to be a community, and a conversation.

Okay, well... I'm off to read. A couple of notes.

I will attempt to read every fic. There will be some that I do not finish. It might just be that it's not to my personal taste.

When I say everything, I do mean *everything*, which means that I may rec some fics that have content that you don't like. I will tag my posts accordingly. I'm not here to debate the ethics of fictional depictions of fictional characters in a fictional relationship with anyone.

I'm going to post as I go through. It's just easier for me that way. Also this way you can literally see my journey, lol. Posts will be scheduled for Saturdays, one post per week, unless my drafts start to get really full, in which case I'll bump it up to two posts per week.

Sometimes I may open a fic and save it in an open tag if I'm not in the right headspace for it, or if I want to read it but I'm not connecting with it at the moment. Or, if it's a really long fic, sometimes I'll intersperse other shorter fics in between chapters. So just because I skip a fic doesn't mean I didn't like it, or I thought it was bad.

Though I will give everything a shot, in general, kid fic is just not my thing, so you're unlikely to see many recs with that topic. But feel free to send in your own fic recs if there's something you really love. I'm sure others would love it as well.

I also generally tend to be not a fan of kink involving bodily fluids other than spit, sweat and semen, but I will give them a chance. Just don't expect a lot of recs for those. Also I'm not really a fan of age play. It's just not my thing.

The only hard pass for me is anything that tries to villainize Steve for MCU Civil War. That's a hard no for me.

Okay, I accidentally added a poll and it won't let me delete it, so....

Lmao - that was supposed to say goodness not goddess. 🙃����🙃 This is why I don't do polls. I am far too much of a mess to handle this kind of responsibility.

[onepiece-writer]

could I request kikunojo with a karate master s/o

Okay! But since you didn't include a prompt, i went to a fluff otp generator. Hope this is good.

pairing: Kiku x gn! Reader

warning: selfhate

genre: angst to fluff

Summary: You've been training Kiku for some time. But when you two clashed swords, she kept losing so much that she doubted her swordmanship

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

"Nice one, Kiku!"

You two were training in a dojo, well your dojo exactly. Kiku started training with you after she found you stole her training place. Because of that, you were training her to see if she was worth the try.

But as you clashed swords, you saw her swordplay. Her sword moved in such an unusual way, genuinely fascinating to see. She trains everyday, so it's undoubtedly surprising to see her progressing this far. But still, she wasn't enough to beat you. 

"Good try, Kiku! You just needed to sharpen your senses!" You encouraged her. "Your swordplay was unusual, but stunning to watch".

"Ah, okay!" Kiku nodded to you as she whispered something. "I'll take that as a note."

You then wiped the sweat coming from your face, and put your sword in place. But as Kiku gets faraway, you can't help but notice the gloomy look on her face. 

…

The Sakura trees were blooming, dazzling every eye that met it. The pink radiant color that appears in every petal was stunning. The strong woods that supported the cherry blossoms were the reason that kids often play around it. But now, you saw her, devastated under the tree.

She then put her frightening mask on to hide her emotions. While doing so, you had to observe the situation. Otherwise, it won't be good. Kiku then proceeds to shed tears in her mask. Maybe for her, showing emotions is embarrassing. So she decided to bottle it up and be in tears when no one's around.

You then rushed to the scene, and sat right next to her.

"Kiku, are you okay?"

"I-i'm fine", she said with a crack in her voice. "Well, not really".

"If it's okay, can you tell me your problems?" You then opened her mask and wipes her tears with your hands. "It is safe here, Kikunojo."

Kiku then takes a deep breath, and proceeds to tell her problems.

"I don't know. I'm just frustrated. Maybe so much that I doubted myself."

"Why's that?"

"You see, after Oden-sama died, I was filled with guilt until they showed up. Luffytaro and others really helped me to show my true intentions. But still, why would I get tricked by that Kanjuro, to befriend him ,and get almost on my way to hell with Kanjuro defeating me?"

You take a deep breath. Right, the person you train is the Kikunojo of the Lingering Snow, of the nine Red Scabbards members. Well, eight exactly. After the battle with Kaido, she had lost an arm, but shrugged off like it was nothing. 

"I felt useless in front of Oden-sama. How could I let him be boiled alive by the bastard Orochi and Kaido? When I was defeated by you, the flashbacks of him getting boiled appeared in front of my eyes".

"Well, sorry for that-"

"No need to, because he died because of how weak I am. If I was stronger, no one would die that day. But I learned from the past, that I have to be stronger in order to protect anyone."

A silence was felt between you and Kiku. She has to learn self love, or else she will be dragged into a black hole of self hate. 

"Hey Kiku, I think you're ABC!"

"What's that?"

"Aesthetically, But Clumsy".

"Wha-"

"Listen, you need to love yourself. No need to blame yourself for everything that happened. Yes, you are weak, but does it matter even to your heart? I love you, so no matter what happens, you're always accepted in my heart".

"Thanks" Kiku giggled in response. "That was a smooth pick-up line there!"

"I-um thank you too!"

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

when you spread self love post but you hated yourself

[nestaismommy]

I really don't know how people put up with it.

Yesterday I commented on why Rhysand doesn't like Nesta, and of course someone came from the other side of the fandom. I really don't know how to fight, when I was little I was unable to give an opinion about something at home that my mother would start a fight saying I was wrong. I showed her evidence showing that I was right, but it was impossible for me to gain anything from her, she did everything to be right, even if it meant being wrong. We are very different in that, I know how to admit when I'm wrong but she doesn't. So I never learned to fight for myself, defend myself, defend my opinion and rights, even when I prove that I'm right, I still tremble whenever a fight starts, because of that, even if it's online.

But back to the person who came to fight me... As soon as I saw that they had commented I started to panic, and of course, to shake too - and I'm technically new to Tumblr, so I don't know how to use it very well, I didn't know I had how to deactivate the comments for nobody to comment - because as I explained well, I don't know how to defend myself. Another person came and then everything got worse, I started desperately looking for how to deactivate comments because I'm obviously a coward and I wanted to run away from any fights, when I finally figured out how to deactivate comments I just replied to this person and before closing them I asked him politely to leave because I was just giving my opinion and trying to join a community that understood me - this side of the fandom - and I immediately turned comments off.

How can you do that? Defend something/someone you like, defend yourself, how? As soon as I saw what they were talking about, I started to shake. I really don't think this is for me lol. I'd better stay in my lurking corner, agree with everything you say, and read the fanfics of this little community of ours.

Hi Anon ❤️

It’s not as easy as it looks. I used to be like that too, I thought I was the only one.

I think that by time, you get used to it. I’m always prepared for any response I might get, I also realized that haters say the same thing over and over again. Usually when I get attacked, I take it as more of a discussion rather than an argument because at the end of the day, you have to remind yourself that this is all ink on paper. That it’s not worth the stress. I made friends who help me defend my favorite character and myself. I think having a lot of mutuals who share the same opinion as you helps. My mutuals help me a lot, even if they don’t know that. I defend Nesta when people are being unfair and misogynistic, but I don’t defend her mistakes. I’m not doing anything wrong, that’s what matters.

I think the hardest part about TUMBLR is posting for the first time and not knowing anything about how the community is like here. I was clueless when I posted, I immediately got attacked. I deleted. I didn’t post anymore. Then I saw so many people defend Nesta with their blood, sweat and tears, and it made my rethink my decision. There are so many things I wanted to say but was always too afraid to. I think we should all have the chance to express our opinions without getting attacked. So I posted again, got attacked, and I didn’t stop. I kept on posting until I made a lot of friends here. I was told that their are certain people who go through hashtags just to hate on Nesta lovers. I was sent the usernames of the problematic accounts, I blocked them and I stopped getting hate.

Sometimes this isn’t for everyone. Some people prefer to turn off the comments, so that they can express their opinions freely. I support that, even I do that sometimes. Especially on TikTok. Also, I usually find it hilarious when I hit a nerve and everyone gets mad and pressed over a fictional character. I mean, there was this one person who told me that Nesta putting herself in danger by going near the wall to look for Feyre is the bare minimum because sisters are supposed to take care of each other, and she shouldn’t be praised for that, so I said “well Feyre putting herself in danger by going out to hunt for her sisters is the bare minimum because sisters are supposed to take care of each other” they got so mad and it was hilarious.

Either way, If you need help, don’t hesitate to message me. If you want those accounts, so that you can block them and decrease the amount of hate you can get, just ask and I’m here. If you need someone to support you, I’m here. ❤️

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #16

It's that time again! The Wednesday Radio prompt list!

There are some really good ones on there this week!

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

I know the sound, of your heart

Your lipstick stain is a work of art

On the doorstep like we've never been apart

I'm in the phone booth, it's the one across the hall

We don't communicate Can you not say what's on your mind

It's not about reciprocation

I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

Is it all in my head Or was it something I said?

I know he's there, but I just had to call

I said, are you gonna be my girl?

I've got your ripped skinny jeans lying on the floor

It's good to hear your voice, you know it's been so long

You ignite all the colors inside my heart

But if you close your eyes Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

 a shiny diamond ring with your name on it

I been up against the wall so long, And the bonds that hold me here are strong, Yeah it hurts 

Talk to me Can't you see? I'm on your side

I'd like to talk when I can show you my affection Oh, I can't control myself

Would you wanna run away too? 'Cause all I really want is you

I still remember the day we met, I was hanging on your every word, I didn't think I would ever let, Somebody see into my world

Because I'm trying to forgive And now I'm trying to forget

I see it everyday You hide the truth behind your eyes

So you're with her, and not with me,

You look so perfect standing there In my American Apparel underwear

Say what it is you're trying to say But if you lie to me again I'll be the one that walks away

Oh if you lost your way And it drove you crazy, You would still have me, We work together you'll see, Blood sweat and tears

I can't believe I forgot your name

I was just a tumble went a little too far

I made a mix-tape straight out of '94

But it's enough to make a grown man cry

Everybody told me you were leaving Funny I should be the last to know

But baby in my head I'm nailing you instead

Oh with an aching feeling inside Cutting me up, deeper and deeper Fills me with a sadness that I can't hide

I could see the danger made it more intriguing

When she lays in your warm arms, Don't think of me

She's so sweet With her get back stare

My tell-tale heart's a hammer in my chest

And there's so much skin to see

Looking back over my shoulder I can see that look in your eye

I was bound for trouble when I let myself go

And if you close your eyes Does it almost feel like you've been here before?

I wish that we were starting over

I never dreamed it could be over I never wanted to say goodbye

Hope you know that I'm happy to see you

I know sometimes it will hurt And you wanna hate me

Oh baby won't you come again?

You're so conceited

With an aching deep in my heart

And I'm on the rooftop with curious strangers

You think that you're my shadow But you're glittering like gold

On my mind I can't wait anymore

Could it be that we belong together

I heard he spent last night with her

Every day it's a losing battle

Well I could see You home with me, But you were with another man

And I'm sipping bourbon The future's uncertain

It takes two imperfect people To dance a sweet ballet

We got no games to play So we got no rules

Hallucinations only mean that your brain is on fire

Does it bother you now when I'm not there

Torture - my hads are tied it's, Torture - I'll survive but, It hurts so bad

What does it matter if I lie to you?

Don't think you're perfect either But I love you anyway

The world doesn't matter no when I'm with you

I said that I love you

And when I take my mask off It's you I want to hold

I don't regret it but I'm glad that we're through

Them girls put on a show But they will never know What makes you beautiful I watch them come and go

We'll bicker and battle and drown in our own sorrow

And we left things to protect my mental health

Can't hear what I'm dancing to Just wanna be with you

What kind of fool would keep hangin' around While you treat me this way

But you call me when you're bored

I'll hold you up when you fall down Even if you say I'm rude

Them boys got all the talk But they don't know a lot, You know my every thought That's why I make them walk

you're playing with yourself

chest tight, and I'm ready to go

And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love