#two days of this garbage probably because i was thinking

[hag-o-hags]

mother absolute fucker the universe has decided to honor One Year Since Getting The Plague with the return of the spinning dizzies

[blujayonthewing]

[186-3]

courting antisemitism

so i recently decided to take a look at the latest stonetoss comics (probably because i love suffering). and while i was expecting some content on the israel palestine conflict, what i did not expect was how... standard it seemed. well, most of it at least, but i'll get to that in a second.

for context, if you don't know what stonetoss is, it's a (poorly drawn) webcomic known for having radical alt-right views - meaning it's incredibly racist, homophobic, transphobic, islamophobic, antisemitic. all that fun stuff.

so while i was expecting to see bad stuff, one of the first things i saw on the topic of israel was this:

terrible art aside, this comic is making a point that i usually see in left wing circles: that israel is pinkwashing genocide.

curious if there was more like this, i kept looking, and the comic right before that one was this:

again, this makes points that i usually see in left wing circles. that american healthcare is crazy expensive, that canada tells poor people to commit suicide, and that israel is bombing hospitals.

why does stonetoss, this well known alt-right nutjob, now seem to be bringing up left-wing talking points?

curious, i kept going deeper:

well this is... odd. clearly, stonetoss is trying to say that israel is on another level of bad, even worse than russia, iran, and north korea. i can possibly see someone on the left making the argument that the russian invasion of ukraine isn't as bad as what israel is doing in gaza, or that at least north korea isn't invading any other countries, but... iran??? the country that has a police force designed to enforce religious law, and gets away with murdering women who do not properly cover their hair? the country that props up paramilitary groups in countries all over the middle east, including lebanon, yemen, and yes, palestine?? that's completely ridiculous

but, given how much more israel is in the news nowadays than any of these other countries, i could see why someone would buy this

and now, we're starting to get to the crux of what stonetoss is trying to do. when someone sees this, they might be inclined to agree with it. they might begin to think that israel is the worst country on the planet

and that might not seem so bad at first. but the more you hate israel, especially irrationally, the more you feel allowed to dehumanize those who support it. the more you might be willing to agree with this comic, which came out two days prior to the one above

this comic says that jews, as a whole have no desire to exist with other people. it is blatantly antisemitic

i'm sure you could imagine some young leftist who sees the comics above this one and thinks, "this guy makes some good points". and then, when they get to this one, they might realize that this is antisemitism

or, they may not.

and that would start them down the road to becoming an antisemite.

this is what stonetoss and other alt-right nutjobs are hoping to achieve. to take left wing fury at israel, and direct it at jews.

we saw it with those neo-nazis at the palestine rally, and we're seeing it again here.

and if you've found yourself agreeing with what stonetoss has said so far, i would like you to see the last comic stonetoss put out before october 7th:

this horrifically racist comic is in reference to an environmental activist who was murdered by a black man in early october. this blatantly racist garbage is the kind of stuff stonetoss usually puts out.

but as soon as october 7th happened? these were his next two comics:

stonetoss completely changed the comic's tone as soon as the current crisis started. why?

to get as many people as possible to get on board with hating jews.

and i know many of you might be thinking that "well, everyone knows that stonetoss is racist garbage. nobody is going to fall for this"

except, as we saw with the neo-nazis at the rally for palestine, it's not always that obvious who the antisemites are and who is just rallying for peace. they are often a lot better at disguising it than stonetoss is.

AND EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE AWARE OF THAT

EVERYONE, no matter HOW much experience you have, can fall victim to propoganda. EVERYONE needs to be aware of what people around them are saying, and able to pick out hateful rhetoric, because even the stuff that is just kind of toeing the line of what's hateful is still putting your foot in the door

be cautious, everyone. and stomp out hate where you see it.

[gibbearish]

theres a kickstarter i backed back in march 2021 thats been going through issue after issue during the production process but has been keeping backers updated the whole time and a couple months ago they announced they were finally able to start shipping orders im excited

[firewasabeast]

Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!

When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.

He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”

“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”

“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”

Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.

“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”

“Should I be?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”

It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.

“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”

Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”

“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”

“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”

“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”

Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”

“Him. I was no better than him.”

Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”

“If the mustache fits.”

“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.

“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”

“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.

Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”

Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.

“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”

“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”

Tommy nodded. “There it is.”

“Listen, Tommy, I-”

“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”

And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.

“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”

“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.

“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”

“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”

It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”

“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”

“I didn't know that.”

“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”

Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.

“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”

[queenlucythevaliant]

See, I don't think that the Pevensie kids were uncanny and dangerous upon returning to England so much as just like. Cool weirdos.

Lucy talks to animals sometimes. She doesn't expect responses or anything; it has the same energy as a person talking to their dog, except it's the squirrel she spotted on the quad or the racoon in the garbage. But she's super friendly in general so after the initial "what the heck" everyone shrugs it off because like, yeah, of course she does. She also went with me to a scary doctor's appointment having known me for like five minutes and gave me an incredible pep talk. She's cool like that.

Peter joins the fencing club and day one it's like he's never held a foil in his life and day two he loses to a kid half his size but then after like a month he just absolutely annihilates the instructor. But he's super humble about it and afterwards he helps everyone else out without being condescending at all. And while it's a little weird that he's just Suddenly an expert, people are like, "he's a fast learner, that's cool." He's really industrious in class too, just Peter being Peter. He probably practiced a whole bunch after hours.

Edmund gets extremely weird food cravings sometimes, like "wow, I could really go for chicken liver with raisins right about now" or "you guys know what's great? Gooseberry trifles." And his friends say, "I've never heard of that before but it sounds weird." So Edmund learns to cook and starts making all these vaguely antiquated fancy dishes with weird berries and organ meats and things and shares them around during study breaks and everyone's like "Yo! Pevensie brought food. Cool, thanks Pevensie." And he shares it with everyone, even the kids nobody likes, and it kinda brings people together.

Susan, who was always the Mom Friend, seems to have gotten a power-up because now she Everyone's mom and weirdly people actually listen to her? But she only uses those powers for good. Girl in her dorm not eating enough? Susan's here with snacks and look at that now she's eating. Those guys arguing look like they're about to throw down? Susan says "knock it off" and glares and they do. And her friends are like, "how do you do it???" and she says "You just have to act like you expect to be obeyed." It's very cool, though it can be a bit Much sometimes.

And they're all into mythology now? Like ancient Rome and King Arthur and stuff? That's kinda weird, but not off-putting; lots of kids have mythology phases. And Peter named the tree outside his dorm, but everyone kinda laughs and says "yeah okay." Edmund is adamantly anti-bullying now, it's nice. Susan and Lucy wear a lot of lion-themed jewelry and people definitely Notice, but that just means that they start getting more of it for Christmas/birthdays.

And of course whenever two or more of them are together it's like they've got a conspiracy going on. They're always fervently whispering back and forth, giggling an the million inside jokes they've got, giving each other Looks. And onlookers are mostly just like, "Man, it's cool that those Pevensie kids are all so tight; I wish I was that close with my siblings."

[gentrychild]

BNHA 407 : AFO is a lying liar who lies

Today is a very sad day because I am about to do something I genuinely dislike: I am about to defend All for One. In order to cope, I shall make fun of him the whole time.

AFO and Yoichi's backstory is finally out, with AFO narrating it, and there are two possibilities: he is either completely lying about it (boring) or he is lying a little about it (very in-character for him) because he is also lying to himself.

Lie number 1: AFO was born evil.

The narrator (AFO, seriously, it's AFO) says things such as "The baby drained the lifeforce of both his mom and his brother.", "It was born an arrogant baby." and such but it really reads at AFO villifying himself to add to his own legend.

That's what babies do. Children, before they're born, kinda have to take their strength from their mother. That's why pregnant people aren't supposed to do anything taxing.

AFO and Yoichi's mother didn't die because baby AFO drained her like a vampire. She died because she was a homeless woman who had access to nothing and had to go in labor alone.

Same thing here: during twin birth, a twin is often bigger than the other (well, probably not to extent of Yoichi and AFO, but you get my point).

Lie number 2: AFO, as a demon baby, is shown killing for no reason, just because he can.

(First slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)

There are two things that are strange in this scene (apart from... you know.... a baby murdering people...)

AFO had no reason to go after them because they don't have any quirks to steal.

It makes no sense for someone to attack a group of people with nothing to gain. I doubt that's the kind of behavior you have when you're in survival mode as you're barely surviving in the street.

However, a previous panel points at some context we might be missing.

The same panel that indicates that those guys don't have a quirk to steal also shows that they are wiling to do some "preventive attack" on a bunch of quirked people who might or might not be those who assaulted a protest group (reminder that in this context, that protest group are protesting the rights for quirked people to exist).

I could be wrong but odds are that they did something to be qualified as a threat to All for One and we are missing the additional context.

(Second slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)

Now, the poor souls who just got absolutely wrecked by a toddler wearing what I suspect to be a garbage bag have quirks, which makes more sense than the previous scene.

However (and thank you for @aimportantdragoncollector for pointing that out to me), we also have this panel.)

Yoichi is shown with bruises on his face and might be broken teeth.

Probably because those same people AFO is shown killing attacked him.

Lie number 3: AFO never loved Yoichi because he can't love, he just considered that he was his. That's all. Nothing more.

(Just... Just ignore the rats.)

AFO didn't care about Yoichi so much that the very conscious first act of his life might have been to swim a river upstream while dragging his brother above the surface with what must have been the deathgrip of all deathgrip.

AFO didn't care about his brother so much that Yoichi was fed and clothed by an AFO who was malnourished enough for his ribs to show and who wore what's basically an improvised toga.

But he just keeps sacrificing what little he has for someone he doesn't care about one bit, that's just his first possession. Nothing more.

Okay, I am going to be clear: anyone who sees that panel and thinks that it's the proof AFO didn't like his brother... You just outed yourself as an only child.

Siblings punt each other for no reason. (There is a reason why the first recorded murderer was an older sibling.) In this case, the reason was Yoichi throwing a can at him.

AFO: "You're not inviting me to a fun activity? You're leaving me out, in the cold, unable to partake in brother bonding activity? Oh, vault for Little Brother! Vault for Little Brother for one thousand years!"

AFO: "Nevermind, we're reading together. All is well, I guess."

Lie number 3: AFO killed the glowing baby for power, because he could, or because the Glowing Baby didn't deserve it

Still laughing about AFO's flawless reasoning... "Comic books heroes' life suck. Better to be a villain. I already did the whole struggle thing, I want an easy life."

AFO killed the glowing baby because he was jealous. It's as simple as that. The glowing baby was considered the first official quirked individual (even though it's not true), was protected by his family (if I remember correctly, the mother of quirks was his mom) while AFO and Yoichi had no one but each other (EDIT: I was wrong, the Mother of Quirks was Destro's mother. thanks to the people in the tags), and had a ton of people following him (while, for some strange reason, people start running away screaming when AFO shows his quirk... What a mystery...).

The last panel was basically AFO saying "I want to be loved' but not having the frame of reference to even know what love is.

In conclusion...

While AFO is definitely a bad guy and a monster, he didn't begin his existence as one. He just wants people to believe that. Because his pride and his ego can't allow him to admit that he lived a childhood full of horrible trauma where he was a victim abandoned by society (to an even greater extent than the LOV) or he would probably combust out of rage and mortification.

Ergo facto, AFO is a lying liar who lies, especially to himself.

[navybrat817]

Rules and Chaos

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your friends are a bad influence when you and Bucky set up booths for a Fall Festival. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Implied sex, slight humor, slight fluff, tension, teasing, inner monologue, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Previous Part of AU: Ladies and Gentlemen A/N: Fic #4 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Quick visit with Hottie and Sugar and a small mention of Thorn and Rose.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @jobean12-blog (thank you and @whisperlullaby for assuring me this wasn't garbage!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You did this on purpose. I know you did.”

With a small laugh, you finished setting up the last sign in front of your table. You wanted the stand to look perfect. “What exactly did I do, Tess?”

She pointed to the booth beside yours where Bucky and Hal were also in the middle of getting their things set up. “You somehow got them to put us right next to the boys.”

You stole a glance at the “Sin On Skin” booth beside yours, the sign tastefully saying “S.O.S. Tattoo Parlor”. Bucky winked at you when he caught your gaze out of the corner of your eye. A goofy smile appeared on your face before you cleared your throat and got back to work. “You do realize I had absolutely no control over where they placed us since I didn't organize this event.”

The nearby elementary school had put on a Fall Festival over the last few years and the woman Steve started seeing was a teacher there. She thought it would be fun for the guys to do face paintings and temporary tattoos for the kids. It was Bucky who suggested that your shop sell baked goods, after running it by you first. Not only was it good for exposure for you and Tess while helping to raise money for the students, it was an excuse to spend the day a few feet away from your boyfriend.

How could you say no to that?

The only downside was that the weather for tomorrow called for rain. To be on the safe side, the booths were going to be in the gym so that the families could still enjoy some of the festivities if it stormed. No matter what happened, it would be a fun day for everyone.

“Then he did it and now I have to watch you two make eyes at each other between customers tomorrow,” Tess accused, but there was no malice behind her words. You didn’t argue since there was a good chance that you would check Bucky out and vice versa. “And aren’t you two hanging out tonight after we finish up?”

“Yeah. We’re doing a movie night,” you replied. You hadn’t had a chance to do a lot of fall activities with Bucky yet, but he promised that he’d take you on a hayride tomorrow before the event was over. And the two of you were watching scary movies tonight. A perfect excuse for you to snuggle against him.

Which will probably end with him inside me, so well worth the jump and scares.

“I still think he’s the reason why we’re next to each other,” Tess said, checking over the order you put together. You made sure there was a range of Autumn and Halloween colors and everything was back at the shop ready for you to set out the following morning. “Though I shouldn’t complain. You two are cute together and he makes you happy.”

“We are a cute couple,” Bucky said, winking at you again. “And she makes me happy, too.”

You had to smile as your heart skipped a beat. It still felt a bit like a dream that the handsome tattoo artist was your boyfriend, but he was yours. It was silly to think that the season was brighter because you had him around, but he was like the unexpected warmth you sometimes experienced on a cool day when the sun came out. If you told him that, you knew he’d argue that it was the other way around. That you were the one who brightened everything around you.

Bringing out the best in each other is what good couples do.

“Get back to work, Hottie. We’re almost done,” you teased when he walked around his table. Clad in one of his signature Henley's, maroon to likely go with the fall theme, you found yourself staring at his chest as he stopped in front of you. Your eyes snapped to his lips when he tapped them with his finger.

“Gimme a kiss first, Sugar,” he said, his voice as warm as your cheeks felt. “One little kiss. That's all I'm asking for.”

“Fine,” you agreed, moving in close. “One kiss.”

He cupped your jaw as he leaned in and deeply kissed you, instantly making you melt against him as you kissed him back. You smiled as you tried to pull away after a second, his lips eagerly seeking yours as he went in for seconds. You discovered after your first date that one kiss was never enough for your boyfriend. He claimed your sugary lips drugged his system with desire and the only cure was for him to have another taste, which made him crave you and your kisses more.

I crave him, too.

He wrapped a hand around your hip and dragged you closer as you mewled, a sound of need that you tried to stamp out. Arousal seized you as his tongue licked along your mouth. It wasn’t fair that his kisses brought such a strong reaction out of you, especially when there was nothing you could do to satisfy it. At least, not right this second.

I’m not going to wiggle my hips and rub my pussy against his cock. I will maintain some sort of self-control.

“Hey!” Hal grinned as you tore your lips away from Bucky’s, shivering at the slight growl he let out at being interrupted. The sound made you want him more. “You two can’t fool around here. Not unless you’re teaching Sex Ed.”

“Yeah,” Tess chimed in, handing you her phone so you could take photos. Bucky still had a hand on your hip, only allowing you to twist a bit. The possessive touch also had safety behind it, telling you that you had nothing to fear when he was close by. “Behave, you two. This is a school.”

Your jaw dropped before you snapped a few pictures, making sure to capture the entire booth. You’d have to get more in the morning once the treats were set out. “We are professionals. We would never fool around here.”

And, thankfully, no children were nearby to witness you and Bucky kissing each other since it was after hours. You couldn’t wait to see him interact with the kids though. They would adore him and his gentle giant demeanor. The kids would love all of them. Jake’s sister even planned to stop by so his niece could get a face painting done.

“So, you're saying if he dragged you off to a nearby classroom… Oh, come on. Like you didn’t think about it the second you asked for a kiss,” Hal said, shrugging when Bucky shot him a glare and set out a bottle of orange paint that matched the shade of his hair. You wondered if he’d keep it orange for November or if he’d go for a shade of red. “Or maybe you two will roll in the hay during that hayride you keep talking about.”

Bucky didn’t look at all embarrassed, swearing that the boys were used to hearing him moan on and on about you. It was a nice feeling. “Like she said, we’re professionals and we wouldn’t do that,” he argued, raising an eyebrow. “And did you just say ‘roll in the hay’? You sound like Jensen.”

“I’m a country boy at heart. I know all about rolling in the hay,” he smirked, looking over at you when your boyfriend pulled you closer. “Hey. Don’t classrooms have locks?”

“Hal, stop encouraging them,” Tess hissed as he chuckled. It was too late. They planted the seed and you knew Bucky was thinking about it, too. “Though he does have a point. Just go into one of the rooms and lock the door. No one will notice.”

“And there’s still time before we have to get out of here,” Hal added as he checked his watch. “Make it a quickie.”

“Hold on,” you said, handing the phone back to Tess when you realized you were still holding it. “You two are actually encouraging us to find a classroom to fool around in? The night before the event?”

Not that it wouldn’t be fun and a good stress reliever, but-

“It’s no different than you two in the kitchen,” your friend said, pointing at Bucky as your cheeks got hot. “Yeah, I had that counter cleaned twice.”

Bucky turned his head toward you, humor in his eyes as you played innocent. “You told her about that?” he asked, brushing a kiss to your temple. You had to tell her. It was technically her kitchen, too. “How I ate you out so good you almost cried?” he added low enough for only you to hear.

You trembled at the memory, the mere thought of his skilled tongue and fingers making your toes curl in your boots. Before you could open your mouth to say something in your defense, Hal laughed. “And it’s no different than the two of you messing around in the break room. Thought Andy was gonna buy a new couch to replace it.”

It was Bucky’s turn to feign innocence as you gazed at him, gently tugging on his bun as tried not to smile. “You told him about that?”

Earlier in the week, you waited around for him to close the parlor. The two of you chatted on the couch when you didn’t want to leave right away, which led to a heated makeout session. It wasn’t long before he had you in his lap, bouncing you up and down on his cock as he growled filthy praises. How well you took him, how beautiful you looked riding him. It was a feat that you could walk out before he took you home.

Where he wrecked you all over again.

“Steve told him, so everyone knows. Punk can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Bucky said, glancing around where a few others were starting to wrap up. “Look. Messing around in our shops is one thing. We own them. Messing around here is something else.”

“He’s right. And even if we wanted to mess around, I’m pretty sure the security guard or administrators will catch on if we suddenly take a stroll down the halls,” you said before your brow furrowed. “Wait a second. Where’s Steve?” you asked. You hadn’t seen him since he dropped off the table banner.

Hal looked behind him and shrugged. “Wasn’t he helping Rose grab decorations for one of the other displays?”

“It shouldn’t take that long, should it?” your boyfriend asked.

As if on cue, Steve rushed into the gym and came to a stop a foot away from the booth. His cheeks were pinker than usual and his hair was a bit of a mess. “Sorry. Rose was showing me around. She’ll be back in a minute.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Thought you two were getting decorations.”

“Well, yeah. We did. She has them,” he said quickly.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Check your fly,” Bucky said, nodding to his crotch.

Hal laughed so hard he almost fell over as Steve fixed his pants, you and Tess covering your mouths to not draw more attention as you giggled. “See? If Stevie can have fun in a classroom, so can you.”

The blonde looked slightly offended by the assumption. “We were not in a classroom,” he stated as you all stared in disbelief. It only took a moment for him to smile. “We were in an office. That’s completely different.”

You shared a look with Bucky, practically seeing the lightbulb turn on over his head. “An office?” he repeated.

Steve nodded, pointing to one of the gym doors. “Yeah, the principal's office is that way and the nurse’s office,” he said, smirking when he realized why his best friend was asking. “You’re worse than I am, you know that?”

“Worse than what?” a kind voice rang out, Steve's girlfriend gracefully walking over with a small box in hand. He took it from her hands immediately, like it was too heavy for her.

“Buck was wanting to, um, 'visit' one of the offices,” he replied.

Rose kept a neutral look on her face as she looked at you two. “So he told you,” she said carefully.

The poor guy really can't keep a secret.

“More like his open fly told us,” Hal chuckled, holding up his hands when Steve took a step toward him.

Rose placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I normally wouldn't encourage this, but since Steve let the cat out of the bag,” she said, smiling when he gave her a lopsided grin. “The teacher's lounge should still be unlocked, but only for a few more minutes and I can't help you if anyone walks in. You're on your own. Got it?”

“Got it,” Bucky chuckled, leaning in close to breathe against your ear. “What do you say, Sugar? Think we can sneak in there? Have a bit of fun before our movie night? Break a few rules?”

The thought had you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. “Thought you wanted one kiss before you got back to work. Not a quickie.”

“Let’s live dangerously,” he smiled.

Your breath hitched, something in your mind telling you to go along with the crazy idea. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. The two of you would clean up any mess you’d make once you were done. And if Rose, who worked here, had fun with Steve, would it be so wrong for you to do the same?

“You’re a bad influence,” you smiled back as he tugged you by the hand toward the door. “All of you!” you added when Tess laughed and Hal whistled.

But it’s good to be bad now and again, especially with the right partner by my side.

So, did Bucky fuck you against the door, the vending machine, or on a table? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bahrtofane]

kylians sick, and only you can make him feel better

word count - 1.1 k+

watch it - pure fluff ^^

-----

kylian feels like shit. a pile of straight garbage. what he thought was a small headache and stuffy nose has snowballed full force into the worst cold he’s had since he was like 5. at least he hopes it’s just a cold. 

his eyes droop wet and cloudy with the tears that he keeps blinking away. he desperately wants to go to sleep but the constant leaking of his nose and the feeling of being permanently submerged in water from his ears down is making that impossible. his left ear hurts with each movement of his head, god forbid he yaws, not only does it send a shock wave of pain to his ear but also makes the swelling of his sore throat that much more apparent. 

his head pounds, phone long forgotten somewhere tossed on the floor. and to top it all off he thinks he’s running a fever. it’s so cold, no matter how hard he tries to sink deeper into his mattress, hugging his comforter tighter, he can’t fight the constant chill that creeps up his spine. 

it’s around 2 am last time he checked. god fucking dammit he just needs to go to bed. he so desperately wishes you were here, to kiss away his frustrated tears, tuck him into bed properly, make him feel better. but he doesn’t want to bother you. especially not at this time. he can power through this, he knows he can.

hours pass by in agony. the sweat has pooled in his sheets, sticking it to him and permanently settling in a cold he can’t shake off. it’s shit. he feels like shit. he probably smells like it too. And to make everything so much fucking better training is first thing tomorrow morning. Shit shit shit shit. 

why does this always happen to him at the most inconvenient of times. what it the hair he didn’t dry off before bed 2 days ago? the coat he didn’t wear when taking the trash out? ice water he drank after practice? holy fucking shit, he writhes in his sheets and comforters again, silently praying to any entity out there to end this suffering. 

the pain and exhaustion is what knocks him out. for better or worse. 

——-

kylian eyes open blearily, blinking away harsh rays of sunlight and crusties from the restless night. when he wakes he realizes one of two things, 1) it’s way, way, past training, and 2) he feels impossibly worse. 

he doesn’t get out of bed, mainly because he just can’t. the pain has immobilized him, fearing if he so much as moves an inch it’ll sink him further into helpless suffering. 

so he whines pitifully and closes his eyes tight. 

——-

he’s woken up again, but not by the sun, or pain. it’s the sound of his door opening that startles him awake. lovely, absolutely marvelous. he’s fucking bed ridden and about to be robbed. what a time to be alive. 

the footsteps don’t sound like an intruders, soft and gentle as they pad around his apartment. kylian waits in silence. what if it’s someone sent to check on him? hakimi most likely.

when the door to his room opens he’s never been happier to be wrong. 

it’s you, standing in his hoodie, wrapped in one of the blankets he leaves on the couch. a god send. 

you take one look at his feeble state and frown. 

“kyky?” 

all he can do is manage a garbled response, more of a pitiful whine. 

you rush over, kicking the blanket off and rushing up to cup his face in your hands. 

“my sweet baby, are you sick?” you murmur. 

a weak nod. 

“shit you're burning up, hold on.”  

you come back with a thermometer, gently opening his mouth and setting it under his tongue. 

“hold still baby.” you whisper, hand holding his jaw in place, he almost melts into your touch.

he waits for what feels like hours, till the little beeps go off and you gently remove the plastic from his mouth. 

“you have a fever all right. i prescribe to you bed rest, lots of fluids, and tylenol for the pain. “ 

he blinks sleepy and you take that as an answer. 

you get to work tidying up his room for him while he blinky sleepily as you.

"just rest, I'll call the team for you."

he goes back to the safety of sleep the moment you finish your sentence. 

—--

when he wakes out yet again, its to you at the foot of his bed, and a bowl of spoop in hand.

he grimaces at the thought but you shake your head, "you gotta eat baby."

he all but sobs trying to get up to eat properly, but you make it work. gently spooning the hot soup into his mouth. 

it takes a little while but the soup is half done when he calls it quits. flopping back into his expanse of pillows and blankets. 

he makes a noise and you feel his hand desperately reaching for you, as meek as can be. you give it to him, gently swiping your thumb over his. 

bed time proves to be a hassle as all he can do is groan in pain, begging for you to join him in the very few words he can croak out. 

“if i get sick, who will take care of you? “ 

he stays silent, out of spite or inability remains a mystery as you tuck him into bed properly and take your things to the guest room. 

——-

thankfully, it is just a cold and he’s back to his usual self in no more than 3 days. all thanks to you. 

he’s a quiet type of thanker, thanks lies in his actions and eyes rather than words. 

the gentle hand that rests on the small of your back, picking you up even if its just a 5 minute drive. he gets you flowers, and even takes you out to dinner. 

your smiles the whole way and it makes him beyond happy.

he finally gets those kisses he wanted to bad, easy and smooth against his skin.

"thank you darling." he hums, hands on your waist, bringing you close. 

you smile against his lips, melting into them once more. you sit on his lap at the edge of his bed. at the edge of the world you feel sometimes.

"come to the match?" he almost begs.

"always."

"I have a jersey I want to see you in." he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"when do you not want to see me in your jersey?" you playfully roll your eyes. 

he snorts, flipping you into your back, mercilessly attacking your sides with tickles as you burst at the seams.

you laugh till you cant breath, and he's enjoying this all too much. collapsing into you when he's had enough. 

"your heavy." you squeak.

he pretends not to listen, you resort to kicking him off.

"wheres this jersey ?" 

he immediately jumps at this, taking your hand in his to lead you to your 50th jersey of his at this point. you don't mind, if anything it fills you with pride and joy to wear his jerseys. always his.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Are you guys all set to see these massive titties get destroyed? I'm pretty nervous but super excited! I feel like every girl with huge boobs is getting a reduction and positing it on TikTok. I'm not lying, like two thirds of the other super big boobed girls I follow got their breasts removed or heavily reduced in the past year or so. I hate following trends but come on! I just have to. I don't want to feel left out. All these girls are doing collab vids and streaming together topless, comparing their scars and stuff. OK, to be fair lots of girls are just getting reductions down to a B or A, but you know how I am, I get soooo jealous and I want to go as big as I can! Or small, I guess.....

Hope you guys aren't too mad. I know you love my huge fat titties, and believe me, so do I! But I am just obsessed with how many gorgeous busty girls are getting debreasted or reduced to tiny ballet-girl tits. It's seriously all I think about. I'm even starting to get messages from other girls egging me on to get my boobs chopped off. I swear I watch more vids about girls eagerly going breastless or getting tiny flat boobs than I do anything else. I don't watch movies or stream TV, I just watch endless hours of perfect, huge breasts getting dismantled and destroyed, all as the girls happily watch and commentate. I never knew it was becoming such a popular genre, like thousands of girls are doing it all over the world every month and honestly if I don't I'll look silly carrying around these monster tits.

Soooo, I just have to get them totally destroyed. I wish each and every one of you could grope them and enjoy them before tomorrow but alas, it's not possible..... I know I'm probably making a really big mistake and in a couple years big boobs might be in style again but I refuse to be the only girl in my circle on Instagram keeping her giant melons all because I'm feeling all selfish and independent. Like hello, it's 2024, people don't just want to see big breasts get groped anymore...... well, they still do, but only if they get to see those titties get taken apart and ruined for good! It's like back in the day porn was pointless if the girl just kissed a guy but he didn't fuck her and cum. Well, times change! You used to be expected to have giant boobs and let men grab them and play with them, which I did! But now guys are being guys and all they want to see is their favorite toys get destroyed!

So I'm just being smart, really. Keeping up engagement and all that. And, well..... I am sorta obsessed with the idea of watching my boobs get destroyed, live and streaming of course. It's like a sexual revolution, only we're realizing our boobs aren't just for milking and squeezing, they're there for men to jerk off and watch as they're chopped off and tossed in the garbage! Nothing new.... It's just hot girls getting railed and gangbanged, then discarded with a new coat of paint! And it'd be such a shame to let these beautiful breasts go without getting ripped to shreds and dropped down a garbage chute, wouldn't it? ❤️"

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Laios: Oh, So these "Grimm" just dissolve away? You can't eat them?

Jaune: UNfortunately no, these things aren't like any other animals on the planet. Nora claims to have took a bite of one once! She said it tasted like Charcoal mixed with blood.

Laios: Hmm. Doesn't sound appetizing. Man, I was hoping to try one of them.

Jaune: Really? Well- I guess eating other kinds of monsters makes sense. Are they any good?\

Laios: Of course - not everything is edible but if you know how to prepare it-

~~~~~

Blake: *Stare*

Izutsumi: *Stare*

~~~~~

Tai: *Avoiding the Elephant in the room* ...

Chilchuck: *Also avoiding the Elephant in the room* ...

Tai: ... You know, I've never really picked up any of the 'Finer' Skills, always been more of a Brawler than anything. I've always thought about learning how to pick locks, just in case I lock my keys in my car or something.

Chilchuck: I ... I could try and Teach you if you'd like?

~~~~~

Ozpin: It's always nice to see a young practitioner of the arts.

Marcille: hey! Just because I'm only 50 doesn't mean I'm young! I'm probably older than you!

Ozpin: Heh. I can assure you, you are not. *Sip*

Marcille: Hey, what's that?

Ozpin: Hot Chocolate. Would you like some?

Marcille: Yes Please!

~~~~~

Senshi: ... When you're plating it up, just spoon the Curry over rice, garnish with a sprig of rosemary, and it's done!

Ren: *Accepting a bowl* Hmm. I never thought of using Eggs like that ... Let alone soft-shelled eggs.

Nora: *Happily taking a bowl* It Smells Delicious! I don't know that I've ever smelled anything so ... Warm?

Senshi: Well, Dig in! Let me know how it Tastes!

*Nom* *Bite*

Ren: ...

Nora: ...

Senshi: What d'ya think? Is it Good?

Ren: *Tearing up* It's ... It's fantastic ...

Nora: *Openly weeping as she horks it down* ITSH SHO GOO!

Ren: The Creaminess, the spice, the fat from the pork ... I Can't believe it ...

Senshi: Well, that's great to hear, but I can't help but notice You're actin' like you've never had a home-cooked meal before!

Ren: The closest Nora's ever gotten was from me. The day we she was fighting for a piece of bread from the garbage. Then My village was attacked, Overrun ... AS far as we know we're the only survivors. I learned how to cook for us using what we had, but it's never ... I've never felt like I had the chance ...

Senshi: ... You were just to kids fending for yourselves?

Nora: *Gulp* I mean, not all the time! We just got sick of oatmeal and gruel and whatever canned pasta was being served and learned to make our own food!

Nora: well ... Ren learned how to cook for us. *Holding out her bowl* More please?

Senshi: Uh, Certainly! *Taking her bowl and filling it*

Senshi: *thinking about what he went through*

Senshi: Hey, you two *He stands to his full height* I Believe that no one Should go Hungry! And the fact the two of you had to go through something so horrible and then have had to scrounge to make something half decent really ticks me Off!

Senshi: I swear that whenever we meet again I'll cook you the tastiest, most nutritional meal I can whip up! You kids have more than earned it with all you've been through!

Nora: *Gasp* Really!

Senshi: Yes, really!

Nora: Thankyouthaknyouthankyou!

Ren: *Finishing his bowl* Thank you very much Sir! And Nora, please slow down, you'll get a stomach ache from eating so fast.

[kimarii-00]

How would armando react if he is in love with the reader (and the two of them are a couple) but they have a fight of differences and they break up (she leaves him), a few weeks pass and armando doesn't likes her distance, and he doesn't want to lose her, so he does everything in his power to get her back

I follow you! 💗

Break-Up Make-Up

AN: I'm probably going to rewrite this and make this into a fic at some point!

❥ You’re at your breaking point, seriously. How much longer does he expect you to put up with his shit?

❥ He works all day everyday, and only returns at odd hours in the night, if at all. Sometimes you make an attempt to stay up to greet him when he comes in, but it’s rare that you are able to catch him before you end up falling asleep yourself.

❥ The rare times that depriving yourself of sleep actually pays off and you get to see him, he’ll brush you off and answer any questions you may have for him with one worded, half assed answers: “Yeah.” “Nah.” “I’m just tired.” “Mhm.”

❥ You knew his job called for most of his attention, and you knew what you signed up for when you both started dating but you never imagined that it’s be this bad.

❥ You’re starting to think that your relationship is just something he can indulge in whenever he feels like it, which is not often.

❥ Even on his “days off”, he’s working. He’ll get a call from a colleague or something of the sort, and then rush off back into work, kissing your cheek and promising that he’d be back before dinner (He never meets that deadline). If he’s not working, then he’ll blow you off when you try to get him up and out of the house to go do something fun for once. The usual, “Sorry, I’m tired. I’ve been working all week” (like you didn’t know that).

❥ It was another boring day alone in the house you shared, late at night. You didn’t feel particularly tired, so you decided to stay up watching your favorite show until your boyfriend decided to show his face again. You don’t know how long you were up, but your heart skipped a beat when you heard him slide the key into the front door. You were especially excited tonight because, well, it may be cold by now, but you’d made his favorite meal as a thanks for all of his hard work.

❥ You knew he was usually grumpy when he came in due to the lack of sleep, but tonight he was like another man. Another one that you didn’t like.

❥ “Would you please just fuck off, you can’t see I’m tired?”

❥ No matter what other nasty things he said to you that night, that one stung and stuck with you the most.

❥ How does he have the right to treat you like garbage, dispose you when your not needed but then retrieve you when he wants something from you? Who does he think he is when all you wanted to do was show him the meal you worked so hard on, even if it was cold.

❥ “I’m sorry I just wanted to fuckin’ greet you when you finally decide to bring your ass home. I barely get to see your face anymore. This is our first real fucking conversation in— I don’t know how long!” You’d responded to his out of pocketness.

❥ The argument just kept escalating until you reached your breaking point, and you released the bombshell.

❥ “If that’s how you really feel then maybe we should take a fuckin’ brake, since I’m such a damn insect to you!”

❥ “Are you breaking up with me right now?”

❥ You didn’t respond with words but rather actions. You stormed into your shared bedroom, snatched up a suitcase you were sure wasn’t going to fit all of your stuff, but it was big enough for essentials.

❥ You stomped around the room, picking up and packing things you deemed necessary, with him in the doorway trying to get your attention to calm you down.

❥ He didn’t mean for it to get this far.

❥ Once you finished, you shoved your way past him and flung yourself out of the door, taking your car and dialing a friends phone number, whom you were sure would let you crash at her place until you were back on your feet. After all, the two of you lived together, so your decision to leave basically left you homeless.

❥ Armando didn’t see or hear from you for three whole weeks. The time that was spent with you not by his side was damn near the embodiment of hell itself, that is, until he saw you through the peep hole at his front door.

❥ You were half expecting him to not even be at home, you thought he’d drown himself in more work now that you weren’t a factor in his life.

❥ You were surprised by how quickly the door opened and how enthusiastic he seemed. You haven’t seen him like that in a long time and it somewhat weirded you out.

❥ “(Name), I just want to say I’m sorry for—“

❥ “Save it.” You said, “I’m just here to pick up whatever I left behind.”

❥ You watched first hand as the enthusiasm all faded from his face and all he seemed like was a hunk of flesh and bones. Albeit, a hot hunk of flesh and bones, but that’s besides the point.

❥ You walk in and he shuts the door behind you. You walk to where the rest of your things resided and ignore the way Armando followed you around like a lost dog.

❥ “If you’re going to follow me around like that the least you could do it help me load this stuff into my car…”

❥ He nodded and immediately got to work, and you internally face palmed.

❥ This was the man that you fell in love with, not the workaholic asshole that you’ve been dealing with for months on end.

❥ “I am sorry, y’know. About what I said that night… And everything that came before it.”

❥ This caught you off guard, because you’ve only heard Armando apologize a few times, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard an apology by his so genuine.

❥ “I said some things that night too, don’t feel too bad.” You say, acting nonchalant but your mind was racing a thousand miles per second.

❥ “I didn’t even realize how much I worked affected you… Though I guess that’s part of the problem too, right?”

❥ You looked away slightly and nodded, glad he was acknowledging his actions.

❥ “(Name), I miss you. So damn much.”

❥ This caught you entirely off guard but you didn’t reply.

❥ “This house is so empty without you in it. I haven’t even been able to bring myself to work knowing how bad I fucked us up.”

❥ “I can’t forgive you so easily… This was a problem for months along with other things, how am I supposed to be assured that it won’t happen again?”

❥ “I’ll prove it to you.”

❥ He’d royally fucked up your relationship, yet for some reason, he couldn’t seem to find any anxiousness about the process of getting you back… He still loved you, and he trusted that love to guide him into winning your heart back. (He also knew you still loved him, so it definitely wouldn’t take that long… 💀)

TAGLIST!

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15 @believeinthefireflies95 @lxla04 @planetnique @arinotarianagrande

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I am so happy to see how much love this series has already gotten! And now part two of this angsty series is finally here! The next installment is already written and will be in Matt's POV. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee 

Curled up on your couch, having made yourself as small as possible, you’d been half-watching the series that you had playing on Netflix. Mostly you’d had it on for the background noise, not wanting to feel quite as alone as you actually were. Eyes closed, you lay there huddled under your softest blanket drifting in and out of sleep. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you'd picked this blanket because it had been Matt’s favorite one at your place, soft even to his senses. The pair of you had curled up on your couch underneath it together countless times in the past.

Turning and burying your face into your pillow, you fought down yet another wave of nausea at the movement and attempted to muffle the whimper that slipped out of you at the thought of Matt. It had only been just over a day since your fight with him which had ultimately ended the relationship. He’d never even reached out to you once he’d eventually returned home Thursday night after dealing with whatever had been more important than staying and talking to you. He hadn’t made a single attempt to discuss the important thing you’d told him you'd needed to talk to him about, either, clearly not finding it important enough to give it his attention. And he obviously must not have cared about how hurt you’d been that night when he'd left–which had seemed very unlike the Matt you’d initially fallen in love with. 

He didn’t reach out to you all of Friday, either. Not that it had really come as a surprise to you. Though that hadn’t stopped you from staring at your phone on and off throughout the day, willing him to call and apologize and prove that his behavior lately wasn’t really him. But your phone never rang and that only further cemented your anger at Matt. So you never made an attempt to reach out to him in return. Instead, you’d spent most of your day at work crying or trying not to puke in a bathroom stall, barely able to focus on getting anything done. 

If Matt had wanted to talk to you, he’d have reached out and talked to you. Things were over between you both now, that was incredibly apparent. Despite how hurt you were about the way things had ended, and how much you'd been crying over Matt and the breakup along with your current situation, you were also absolutely pissed at Matt, too. Pissed that he had treated you the way he had recently–and pissed at yourself for sticking around long enough thinking that wasn’t Matt. Because it clearly was with how often he’d broken promises to you, even if he’d never been quite like that in the almost year and a half you’d both been together. He’d certainly changed on you, showing you his true self which was too wrapped up in playing savior trying to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

Now it was Saturday morning and you’d woken up feeling exceptionally hormonal and nauseous. You hadn’t even been able to finish the buttered toast you’d made this morning in the hopes of settling your stomach, the taste of it so strong that you found yourself gagging until you’d tossed it in the garbage and opened a window to alleviate the smell of it in your apartment. You’d read about the heightened sense of smell for pregnant women just last night when you’d been researching early pregnancy symptoms and wondering what to expect. Immediately your first reaction was to call Matt, wanting to tell him and make a joke about having super senses just like him. But the moment you’d pulled up his contact on your phone, you’d remembered you couldn’t call him.

You’d spent this morning trying your hardest not to think about him and then inevitably sobbing into your pillow when you failed. You had already flipped it around a handful of times now, but still you couldn’t seem to find a spot to rest your head that wasn’t already soaked from your tears. It didn’t help that you were hungry–almost ravenous–but simultaneously disgusted by the thought of any and all food. You were tired, too. A level of tired you’d never felt before, and you figured your past few nights of poor sleep weren’t the only thing to attribute that to.

All you wanted to do today was sulk on your couch. You’d made an appointment for Tuesday with an obstetrician for your first visit and you’d already placed a grocery order last night–making sure you added prenatals and plenty of fresh fruit to your order. Now you just wanted to wallow in misery for a while and pray that the nausea didn’t last the entirety of the first trimester. You didn’t think you’d survive that on top of dealing with a broken heart.

But all your plans to be lonely and miserable fell right out the window the moment you heard a few knocks sound out from your apartment door behind you. Groaning, you buried your face further into the cold, damp pillow. Half of you hoped it wasn’t Matt, the other half of you wanted to smack him with one of his billy clubs.

“Who’s there?” you called out, words partially muffled by pillow.

“It’s Karen,” the familiar voice replied a little hesitantly. “I brought coffee and bagels.”

You groaned again, the few contents of your stomach swirling around uncomfortably at the thought of either of those things. And you loved coffee and bagels.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself up from the couch, pausing for a moment when you were hit with a surge of dizziness. You moaned pathetically, running a hand across your forehead as you waited it out. When the room finally stopped spinning, you fully rose to your feet before taking your time making your way over to your apartment door.

Opening it, you were greeted with the sight of Karen in casual clothes. Which meant she hadn't gone into the office this morning, though judging by the sad smile on her face as she quickly scanned you over, you knew that she'd heard about the breakup. Or at least suspected it. 

"Hey," she greeted you gently, holding up the cardboard coffee holder in one hand and the brown paper bag of bagels in the other. "I brought an offering of comfort."

"So you know?" you asked her.

Stepping to the side, you gestured her into your apartment. Karen didn't hesitate, heading straight towards your living room as you closed the door after her. Slowly you turned, trudging your way to your living room and trying your best not to look like you were going to be sick. 

“Suspected,” Karen said, glancing over her shoulder at you. “But now I feel like my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Settling down onto the couch beside Karen, you watched as she reached over towards your coffee table and pulled a coffee out of the holder. Turning towards you, she offered it to you with a warm smile. You reached out, about to accept the cup from her hand–desperate for caffeine–but when the strong aroma of caramel and espresso from the latte hit your nose, you nearly retched. Grimacing, you quickly waved a hand at the coffee, shaking your head and cringing away from it. Karen drew her hand back, sniffing the coffee with a furrow between her brows as she eyed the cup in her hand. 

"You usually get caramel lattes, right?" she asked, glancing up at you in confusion. 

"Yeah, I just–just don't feel like coffee right now," you lied.

"Okay," Karen replied slowly, setting the coffee back down on your coffee table. "So do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, picking up her own coffee and focusing back on you. “Because Matt was…an absolute mess at the office yesterday. I mean, granted, he’s been coming in looking like shit for awhile now, but he seemed half alive yesterday. Wouldn't say why, either, but I had a feeling it involved you.” She paused, her blue eyes surveying you closely. “And judging by the fact that it looks like you've been crying, I'm guessing it does."

You sighed, gaze dropping down towards your lap. There was no point in hiding the breakup. Not from Karen. She was too perceptive and you knew one way or another she’d figure it out. Plus, it would feel good to not feel alone for just a bit.

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confessed. “Thursday night. And it was…awful.”

She gasped, the noise drawing your focus up towards her on the couch beside you. Her hand had frozen with her coffee cup just before her lips, her eyes wide in shock. A second later her cup was lowering back to her lap, her left hand darting out and grabbing yours.

“Are you serious?” she asked. “What the hell happened? I thought you two were doing so well together?”

Shrugging, you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it down, but stubbornly it refused to disappear. 

“We had been until a couple of months ago when things gradually began to go downhill,” you told her. “I knew about him going out as Daredevil. Obviously I had always known about that since we’d started dating. And it hadn’t been an issue because there’d always been compromise in the relationship. But over the past couple of months he’d slowly been going out more and more,” you explained, feeling the tears starting to burn at your eyes yet again this morning. “Until he was going out every single night. For a couple of weeks straight. And he kept repeatedly promising me he’d make time for me over and over, but then he kept forgetting or making excuses and going out as Daredevil instead. And it just–just got to be too much, you know?”

Karen nodded, squeezing your hand gently in hers. “So you ended things with him?” she asked. “Because he kept choosing Daredevil over you?”

You pulled a face at her question, quickly shaking your head. “What? No,” you answered. “I told him I needed to talk to him about something important and he decided that running around as Daredevil was more important than being there for me. And I practically begged him to stay in, Karen. And you know what he did?”

“Something very dumb and Matt-like?” she guessed.

“He got pissed at me like it was all my fault because I didn’t accept what he does as Daredevil!” you exclaimed, anger soon replacing your sadness. “Which is utter bullshit because I have always been supportive of him. Always there to help patch him up and clean the blood off of him at the end of his nights. Making sure he actually ate dinner and helping him remember upcoming appointments because he was always so distracted. Offering him comfort whenever he needed it after a difficult night. And I never once asked him to stop despite how much I worried about him.”

Your right hand curled into a fist in your lap, the memory of the way Matt had spoken to you the other night flooding back. Gritting your teeth together, your focus dropped down to your lap.

“I loved him–loved him even as Daredevil. But I needed him that night, Karen,” you ground out, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your rage. “And I told him that. And yet he still chose to walk out on me.”

Karen was silent beside you for a long moment, her hand tightening around yours. Raising your right hand up, you wiped away a few stray tears with the back of it. You sniffled, your body feeling a confusing mess of anger and sadness that had you wanting to scream and throw everything in your apartment but also curl up in your bed and sleep away your pain. 

“What did you need to talk to him about?” Karen asked softly.

Your hand froze mid-swipe of a tear on your cheek as her question broke the silence. Slowly your eyes slid up, landing on Karen’s knowing blue ones. It was like she already could see right through you to the answer. Yet again you realized there was no point trying to hide something from her, especially because you knew you could confide the truth in her.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Karen inhaled a sharp breath at your confession, nodding her head slowly in response. Once again you tried to swallow that lump in your throat which now seemed almost permanently stuck there in the silence that followed. 

“So he doesn’t know?” she eventually asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I found out Thursday morning. Told him earlier in the day that I really needed to talk to him. But he wouldn’t stay and talk that night. He was rude and mean and then he just left. Never tried to reach out to me afterwards. So we’re just…done. And now I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to raise a child alone in the city.”

Her brows shot up in surprise onto her forehead. “Alone? Why would you be raising it alone? Are you not going to tell Matt he has a child?” she questioned.

Expression shifting quickly, you shot Karen a flat look. “Come on, Karen,” you said. “Of course I’ll tell him. But let’s be real here. Matt isn’t going to want to be a father. The man barely takes care of himself. He can’t even commit to a relationship without messing up his priorities. You think he’d want the responsibilities of having a child? Because I sure as shit don’t. Not after seeing him the other night.”

“Okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding again as she reached over to set her undrank coffee onto your coffee table. “He’s definitely got his flaws. But we’re talking about Matt here. He’s got a big heart underneath all that stubborn, self-flagellating bullshit. He would never turn his back on you–” she abruptly raised a hand to cut you off the moment you’d opened your mouth to counter her comment, “ –or at the very least, his own child.”

You shook your head, running hand across your forehead. Karen meant well, you knew that, but she was wrong. She hadn’t seen him going out every single night, fixated on that stupid Russian mafia like you had for weeks now. She hadn’t seen him that night when he’d talked to you the way he had. A couple of weeks ago, you’d never have believed that was Matt, either.

“I don’t think he’d not have a relationship with his own child,” you told her slowly, “but Matthew Murdock would never want to be a father. There is nothing more important to him than this goddamn city that he thinks he has to protect. So yes,” you stated, “I’m clearly doing this on my own, Karen.”

A slow, sad smile spread over her lips at your words. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch under her stare, your gaze darted over to the unopened bag of bagels on your coffee table. Your stomach gave a hungry lurch at the smell of the cream cheese. Reaching out, you grabbed the bag and immediately began to open it.

“This is the first thing that has smelled good in days ,” you told her.

She laughed lightly, picking her coffee back up and taking a drink. You immediately pulled out one of the packages, ripping it open before tearing a large bite out of the bagel. Somehow it tasted exponentially better than you remembered bagels ever tasting before.

“Have them both,” Karen urged. “I take it you’ve been experiencing pregnancy symptoms already then?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, chewing a bite of bagel before swiftly swallowing it down. “I feel like I’m always nauseous and tired. And I’ve been getting headaches nonstop. I’m hungry but almost everything I normally eat sounds and smells absolutely disgusting lately. I couldn’t even stomach buttered toast this morning–I had to open a window just to get the smell out of the apartment.”

Karen winced beside you. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied. “And I researched other symptoms common in pregnancy, and you know what? They don’t sound much better, either.”

Karen’s fingers drummed lightly on her coffee cup as she chewed her lip, eyeing you. You continued to devour the bagel in your hands, your eyes narrowing as you watched her. Eventually one of your brows raised at her in a silent question.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid question,” Karen began cautiously, “but are you…excited at all? About being pregnant? I mean, I know this clearly wasn’t planned and it's all new to you still if you only found out on Thursday but…you’re having a baby. Have you–have you processed that yet?”

Lowering the bagel down to your lap, you let Karen’s question settle in your mind. You really hadn’t given that too much thought in the few days since you’d found out you were pregnant. Admittedly you’d been too focused on initially trying to tell Matt the news. But then when that didn’t go as planned, you’d been trying to deal with the pain of a broken heart while trying to set up an appointment for an obstetrician and also trying to read up on information about early pregnancy. You really hadn’t thought too much about your feelings.

You knew for a fact you wanted this baby, though. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that. Not that you had issues with the alternative, but you’d known the moment you’d seen those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that you were keeping it. No matter what that meant.

“I haven’t really thought about it, no,” you admitted quietly. “But I do know I want this.” 

Nervously chewing your lip, you wondered how Karen would feel about a big reason that you were so certain. Would you sound ridiculous considering how things had ended with you and Matt? Was it ridiculous? You weren’t entirely sure of the answer yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain it but…as angry as I am at Matt and as much as I’m trying to move on from him,” you slowly admitted aloud, “I know there’s–there’s always going to be feelings there for him. That some part of me will always love him. And this baby–” you continued, your left hand unconsciously landing affectionately over your abdomen as your eyes began to water, “–it's a part of him. A part of us . Back when things were good between us. And even though this pregnancy wasn’t planned and it’s not what I would’ve initially chosen to have happen right now, I can’t help but love this child already.” Lips trembling, your gaze dropped down towards your abdomen, your hand continuing to gently rub across the top of it. “I can’t help but already love the fact that it’s both Matt and I in there. Even if I want to scream and slap the shit out of him right now for how much he hurt me.”

A few more tears slipped out of your eyes and you sniffled, turning your head and wiping the dampness on your cheeks onto the sleeve of your shirt. You felt Karen’s hand gently grasping yours again, the one you had resting over your belly. Glancing back towards her, you saw her send you a watery smile herself, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “you know you’re not alone going through all of this. I’m always here for you. And whenever you tell Fog and Marci, I know they both will be, too. I know I can’t speak for Matt, but know that you’ve always got us.”

Your heart twisted in your chest at her promise. The pain of Matt not being in the picture was a sharp contrast to the love you felt right now from your friends about this situation. A smile gradually spread across your face, tears still trailing their way warm and wet down your cheeks. Though this time not entirely from sadness, but also from gratitude that your time with Matt had at least brought you such wonderful friends. 

“Thank you, Kare,”  you croaked out, reaching across the couch and quickly wrapping her in a hug. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear. This is…definitely scary trying to navigate alone right now.”

“Well I’ll always be here for you,” she promised again, hugging you tightly back. “ Especially when you need someone to go baby shopping with you or to help put together a baby registry for that shower you know Marci and I are going to throw you. And I’d love to help you pick out little outfits for a girl or a boy anytime.”

You laughed, touched by her enthusiasm as the tears fell a little harder. You eventually pulled away from Karen, wiping a hand across your eyes as you tried to will them to finally stop falling. You’d already spent too much time crying this morning as it was.

“I think it’s a bit longer before I know the gender,” you told her, the faint smile still on your face. “But maybe an impromptu baby shopping trip is in the cards soon. Once I get a little farther along.”

“How far are you?” she asked curiously.

Her blue eyes dropped down towards your stomach, though you knew there wasn’t a baby bump visible yet.

“Nearing six weeks,” you answered, your smile growing a little wider. “At eight weeks I’ll have the first ultrasound, which I’m honestly a little excited for because I think it’ll make this all feel even more real.” Your eyes dropped back down to your abdomen, the smile still lingering on your lips. “And that’s when I’ll get to see them for the first time. Hear their heartbeat.”

At the mention of your baby’s heartbeat, a sharp pang hit you straight in the chest. Your smile faltered instantly as a thought struck you in that very moment. 

Matt wouldn’t need one of those machines to hear their heartbeat.

Your jaw clenched tight, your hand gripping firmly around the partially finished bagel you were still holding. More thoughts suddenly began to race through your mind as you sat there on your couch, briefly forgetting Karen was even there.

How would Matt feel when he heard his own child’s heartbeat for the first time? Would it affect him at all? Enough to ever make something else more important to him than just Hell’s Kitchen?

Because after the other night, you didn’t think anything could do that.

[hedgehog-moss]

Update on May 1st protests and how the french goverment handled them?

^ The May 1st protests were pretty violent esp. in Paris; two cops were set on fire (they're ok, one has 2nd degree burns), lots of destruction in city streets, and hundreds of injured protesters. The French gov is sticking to its M.O. of denying any police violence against protesters, emphasising protesters' violence and portraying it as mindless anti-democratic savagery rather than the result of their own anti-democratic policies.

There were more people protesting in the streets on Monday than at any other May Day protest in the past 20 years (by a large margin—7 to 10x more people than usual.) And the numbers are still impressive in terms of this current social movement—there were about 1.2 million people at the first protest against the pension reform in January, 900K at one of the February protests, around 1.1M on March 7 and I think 1.2M on March 23rd... We're in May and there were 800K people in the streets on Monday (using the police's probably low estimate). The first marches earlier this year were peaceful; people started destroying shit in March after the 49.3 (=the gov not letting elected representatives vote on the reform); in the following weeks we saw a brutal escalation of police violence + suppression of just about any means of non-violent protest, which results in more violence.

The vast majority of protesters are still peaceful, but in terms of providing context for the increased violence, well—people protested peacefully, peaceful protests got banned. People banged pots and pans, pots and pans got banned and confiscated. People started a petition on the National Assembly website which got a record number of signatures, the petition was closed before its deadline and ignored. MPs asked (twice!) for a national referendum on the reform to be held, their requests were denied. Electricity unionists cut power in buildings Macron was visiting, now he travels around with a portable generator. Unions tried to distribute whistles and red cards (penalty cards) to football supporters before the French Cup finale last week, so the ones who wanted could use them if Macron showed up (he ended up hiding and greeting the footballers indoors rather than publicly on the stadium lawn); the police prefecture tried banning union members from gathering outside the stadium to distribute these items (although the ban was struck down by the judiciary as it was illegal, like most bans these days...)

Confiscating saucepans was already so absurd it felt like a gratuitous fuck you, but now they're trying to prevent the distribution of pieces of red paper. Cancelling petitions that would have had no real impact anyway. Prosecuting people for insulting Macron. Arbitrarily arresting hundreds of nonviolent protesters to intimidate them out of protesting (guess who's left then?). The French gov is systematically repressing democratic or nonviolent means of making your opinion heard, and when people get more violent they're like "This is unacceptable, don't these terrorists know there are other means of expressing dissent??" Where? This week a 77-year-old man was summoned to the police station and will be forced to take a "citizenship course" for having a banner outside his house that read "Macron fuck you" (Macron on t'emmerde). Note that he would have been arrested (like the woman who was arrested at her home and spent a night in police custody for calling Macron "garbage" on Facebook) but they decided not to only because of his age.

So that's where we're at; on Monday two cops caught on fire (well, their fireproof suit did) after protesters threw a Molotov cocktail at them. (The street medic who tried to help them with their burns ended up getting shot by a cop's riot gun a few seconds later—with French police no good deed goes unpunished!) The media talked a lot more about this incident than about the fact that the cop who got most severely injured on that day (broken vertebrae) was injured by an explosive grenade that a colleague of his meant to throw at protesters (you can see it at the end of the video below). If police with all their protective gear get so badly injured by their own weapons, no wonder the worst injuries have been on the protesters' side. (nearly 600 injured protesters on May 1st, 120 severely, according to street medics.) I'm not including images of these incidents in the video but on May 1st a protester had his hand mutilated by a police grenade + a 17 year old girl was hit in the eye by a grenade fragment, may end up losing it (during the Yellow Vests protests, Macron's first attempt at repressing a social movement, 38 protesters lost an eye or a hand).

What you see in the video: cops charging the front of a march to tear a banner off people's hands then retreating and drowning the street in tear gas when protesters throw paint bombs at them (protesters have umbrellas because of police drones); at 0:30, a journalist saying "They're not even arresting him, just kicking him when he's down—they kicked him right in the face!" then police spraying with tear gas protesters who try to fend them off; at 0:46 when a protester being arrested asks a journalist if he's filming and starts reading out loud a cop's ID number, another cop shoves the journalist and throws him to the ground; at 0:54, an Irish journalist runs away from the police tear gas grenades that you hear going off, at 01:08, the incident mentioned above when a cop drops a grenade he tried to throw, which explodes in his group, breaking another cop's vertebrae. There's a lot more I'm not including, like how CNN said "there's so much tear gas in Paris, our foreign correspondent can barely breathe", how another journalist was hit by a sting-ball grenade (he was also bludgeoned on the head so hard it broke his helmet—even though cops know the people wearing helmets are journalists...), and yet another journalist who was calling out a cop for aiming at people's heads with his riot gun (which is illegal) ended up having the guy aim the riot gun at his head from 2 metres away (getting shot with this "less lethal weapon" from that distance would be lethal.)

All of these videos are from May 1st (most of them from this account monitoring police violence.)

So yeah, nonviolent protests followed by violent police repression and bans of nonviolent means of protesting result in more violent protests. The French government responds by a) pikachu surpris, b) condemning violent protesters and praising violent police to the skies, c) continuing to ban everything they can think of. Confiscating saucepans didn't work but confiscating pieces of red paper will do the trick! Let's prosecute people for bashing or burning an effigy of Macron, because banning symbolic violence always works to prevent actual violence! And this week after the May 1st protests we learnt that the gov is thinking of making street barricades illegal, because that'll definitely solve everything. It's going to be interesting for history teachers to teach students about the 1789 revolution that allowed us to take down an absolutist regime and become a republic, under a government that banned barricades because they see them as terrorist anti-republican structures.

^ Statue symbolising the French Republic (on Place de la République in Paris) dressed with a 'Macron resign' shirt by protesters on May 1st.

[payasita]

Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.