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daisynik7 · 8 months

Note

Omg Nikki!!! Congrats on the milestone!!!! 🥂 May I submit a request for this fun event? Me & U, Cassie for Gojo Satoru? -Smut if you don't mind ? 🥺

Me & U

It's me and you, I've been waiting, think I wanna make that move now

Pairing: frat boy!Gojo x sorority girl!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.2k

cw: college au, drinking, explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Summary: You’re hosting a party tonight to celebrate Shoko’s acceptance into medical school. She invites a few of her friends, including resident frat star Satoru Gojo, who you historically don’t get along with. That changes when you find out his true feelings for you.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for requesting this @mochimooon! This is a classic y2k hit for the karaoke party! I haven’t written much for Gojo, I find him so intimidating for some reason! But I had fun writing this. I hope you like it!

Shoko kneels on one knee, expertly double fisting Smirnoff Ices as you and your sisters chant your favorite drinking song. “Here’s to sister Shoko, sister Shoko, sister Shoko! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight.”

“She’s slutty! She’s sleazy! She’s so fucking easy! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight!”

“Now drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker. Drink!”

“NOW DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER. DRINK!” This last line is the loudest, resulting in an uproar of cheers and laughter as she waves the two empty bottles, showing off her drinking prowess.

She recently got into her dream medical school and you’re hosting this party to celebrate, one last bang before she’s sent off in the fall. It’s only the seniors gathered tonight, all of you squeezing into your teensy off-campus, one-bedroom apartment. The celebrant wraps her arm around your shoulder, kissing you on the cheek. “Thank you for this. Might be the last time I’ll be able to for a while.��

You smile, hugging her back. “Then you better keep drinking while you still have the chance.”

She grabs the handle of vodka on the counter, twisting off the cap to take a swig. “You don’t have to tell me twice."

Since it’s an unofficial gathering of more than three sisters involving alcohol, you decide to do the responsible thing and volunteer to be sober monitor, just in case all hell breaks loose. You nurse a sparkling water, watching with amusement as your sorority sisters gradually get more and more intoxicated, especially Shoko, who’s got a happy buzz going.

There’s loud banging on the door, causing a few of the girls to shriek. You answer it only to be met by blinding white hair, piercing blue eyes, and that all-too-familiar smirk. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Satoru Gojo. Self-proclaimed frat star. Notorious playboy. Overall nuisance. And, unfortunately, Shoko’s good friend, which is why he’s here.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, swinging the door open to let him in. His fraternity brother, Geto, greets you politely with an embrace. You’re fond of him, having spent time with him over this past year after being voted sweetheart of their fraternity. In fact, you’re quite fond of all of the brothers, except for one.

You’re not quite sure why you and Gojo don’t get along. Maybe it’s because of his arrogant attitude, or his inability to be serious when you need him to be. You’ve had to work alongside him on several occasions, each one resulting in disagreements or petty arguments. Like oil and water, the two of you don’t mix, simple as that. But, for Shoko’s sake, you tolerate him, enough to remain cordial, for the most part.

“Shoko!” he greets, hugging her tightly. “Happy birthday!”

You notice the other sisters watching them, whispering to each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Of course they’re happy to see him. After all, even you can’t deny his striking good looks and charisma. While the two of them catch up, you stand by Geto, who’s searching the fridge for a beer. “How’s it going?”

He cracks open the can, taking a sip before answering. “Alright. We missed you at last week’s party. Everything okay?”

You smile at him, appreciating his concern. “Yeah, I just had to finish some projects.”

He leans against the counter, gazing at you with a smirk. “You know, Satoru was really excited for tonight.”

“Yeah? To celebrate Shoko?”

“That, and to see you.”

You raise a brow at him. “Me? Why me?”

He laughs softy. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

He hums, finishing his beer. “Maybe I should just let you figure it out for yourself.”

“Geto!” you whine, clinging to his arm. “Just tell me!”

He taps his finger to his lips, winking at you, not saying another word. When he continues to remain silent even after pestering him to elaborate, you leave him, trying to distract yourself by chatting with your sisters. No matter what you do though, your mind always goes back to Satoru Gojo. Why would he be excited to see youof all people? You sneak glances at him as he maneuvers through the party, his impressive stature and magnetic personality taking up most of the space in your small apartment. At least, that’s what it seems like. All your friends fawn over him, eyes sparkling with admiration and lust. All of them except for Shoko, who’s so used to him by now that she’s unfazed.

You find your way back to her, cradling the half-empty vodka bottle in her hands. “Did Gojo help you with that?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. This was all me. Besides, Gojo doesn’t drink.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Can you imagine all of that with all of this?” She waves the bottle in her hand. “Pretty sure he would explode.”

You chuckle, observing him further as he performs a party trick involving a blindfold and the beer pong table, successfully making each shot without being able to see. Pretty impressive.

The night continues. Eventually, most of the liquor stocked in your fridge and cabinets is consumed. All your sisters are drunk, including Shoko, though she manages to maintain her composure well enough to stay up on her feet. Your place is a mess now, cups and cans littered on the floor, trash thrown everywhere except the actual bin, random articles of clothing draped over the couch and TV. It’s the stereotypical image of a successful rager, and unfortunately, it’s your mess to clean up. You don’t mind it too much, especially when Shoko gives you a big smooch on the forehead, thanking you again for hosting. She’s being held between Geto and one of your other sisters, who carry her out the door towards the sorority house where she lives. One by one, each sister thanks you with a loving embrace, all smelling sickly sweet from the liquor.

Just when you think everyone has left, you’re surprised to see Gojo drag your garbage bin from the kitchen into the living room, bending down to pick up trash.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you tell him, rushing to his side.

“And leave you to deal with this on your own? Come on, I really don’t mind.”

You mutter a quiet, “Thanks,” surprised by his kind gesture. It almost makes you forget about your history together, until he teases, “I take cash or check for my services, by the way.”

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but this time, you laugh, tossing a few cups into the bin, playing along. “How much do I owe you?”

“Hm…I think I’ll let it slide just this once.” He looks up, grinning at you. There’s a spark for the quickest moment as you hold his gaze.

Thanks to his help, you manage to get the apartment tidied within minutes. The two of you remain silent for the most part, music still playing in the background on your speaker. He hums along to the tunes he recognizes, picking up the last bits of junk from the floor while you wipe down your sticky kitchen counter. The both of you wash your hands thoroughly, satisfied with your work.

As he dries his hands, you remember what Geto mentioned earlier. Deciding to be bold, you ask, “I heard you were excited to see me tonight. Is that true?”

A small smirk forms on his lips as he nods. “That is true, yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to see you. You are our sweetheart, after all.”

There he goes again, being so unserious. You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Don’t bullshit with me, Gojo. I thought you hated me.”

“When did I ever say that?!”

“You didn’t have to! We’re always bickering over the simplest things. Like right now.”

“And who’s fault is that? You always get annoyed for no reason.”

“Oh, I have plenty of reasons to be annoyed by you,” you scoff, shaking your head at him. Of course your conversation would turn into another argument.

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and you. Always at each other’s throats. You hating me.”

You stare down at your feet, heat rushing into your cheeks. “I don’t hate you.”

He steps closer, towering over you. “But you don’t like me.”

You peer up at him, defensive. “Well, do you like me?”

He smirks, eyes softening as he stares down at you. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ready to kick him out, you groan. “Ugh, there you go again, being such a fucking nuisance – ”

Before you can turn your back to him, he grips your wrist, pulling you in for you a kiss. His lips surround yours, warm and delicate against your mouth. “Is this a good enough answer for you?”

You don’t respond with words, but with another kiss instead, wrapping your arms around him to deepen it, tongues swirling around each other’s, desperate and needy. His hands are on your waist, thumbs brushing the plush skin of your belly. You moan into his mouth, gasping for breath. “Gojo.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers, lifting you easily, sitting you up on the counter. He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants.

“Waiting for what?” you ask, spreading yourself for him, already anticipating his answer.

He bites his lip, slowly sliding the fabric down your legs, revealing your pretty panties. “To be alone with you.” He spreads gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs. “To have my way with you.” He nuzzles his nose to your clothed pussy, stimulating your clit.

“And who says I’ll let you?” you huff, pretending to be defiant. You’re already wet, arousal seeping from your slit, pussy aching for him.

He chuckles, hooking his finger around your underwear, exposing your sopping cunt. “Just look at you, sweetheart. Already so fucking juicy for me.” He puckers his lips around your clit, sliding his middle finger inside you, curving at the tip to reach your G-spot.

You buck your hips, core tight with pleasure, eager for more. “Fuck!”

Spreading his tongue wider, he smears his saliva over your swelling bud. “You love this, don’t you?”

Bunching his hair in your fist, you shove him deeper into your cunt, rocking yourself on his face.

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, eating you out sloppily. “Ride my face. Come for me.”

He sucks on your clit, finger pumping in and out of you relentlessly until you orgasm, thighs squeezed around his cheeks as you ride it out. When you’re done, he licks you clean, collecting all of your cum on his tongue to drink it up. When he surfaces, a cocky grin spread on his face, he runs his thumb along his nose and chin, getting every last drop.

Your pants are still pooled around your ankles, so you kick them off, leaving you completely naked from the waist down. “Fuck me,” you say, rubbing your swollen clit.

“Yeah? That wasn’t enough for you?” he teases, stripping out of his bottoms, stroking his stiff cock in his fist. “You need to be filled up, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you into your bedroom. He kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, kicking open the door, tossing you onto the mattress. “How do you want it? Tell me.” His cock is hard in his hand, tip glistening with precum.

“I want to ride you,” you say, hoisting your top off, quickly unhooking your bra.

His smile widens, crawling up the bed to position himself against the headboard. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. He taps the tip against your clit, the lewd wet smacks driving you crazy. You guide him inside you until he bottoms out, nestling your ass comfortable onto his lap.

“Fuck,” he moans, flicking his tongue on your nipple. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Make me come.”

You fuck him slowly at first, relishing the way his big cock fills you up. He sucks on your tits while you ride him, nipples perky between his lips. Soon, you’re fucking him faster, desperate to unravel him the way he did you.

“Fuck, baby. Do it just like that. Don’t stop,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips in tandem with you. “Gonna make me nut so fucking hard.”

“Come for me, Gojo,” you breathe out, close to your second orgasm.

“You too,” he says, his thumb pressed to your clit. “Come with me, baby. Please.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, pussy tightening around him. He curses, shooting his load inside you, stuffing you full of his seed. He twitches beneath you, cock spurting every last pulse until he’s drained of energy and cum. You collapse on top of him, resting your face on his chest, catching your breath.

After a brief moment of silence, the two of you listening to your own steadying heartbeats, he speaks. “Wow.”

You giggle, looking up at him. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Because it’s the first time we’ve ever been alone. Not with my brothers, not with your sisters. Just me and you. I’ve been waiting to make my move this whole time.” He smiles at you, pinching your nose playfully.

“Well, you waited too long,” you say, cuddling him.

“Better late than never, right?” He cradles you in his arms, snuggling you sweetly.

#gojo smut #gojo satoru #Satoru gojo #Gojo Satoru smut #Satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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cptapathy · 4 months

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My takeaway for the new UK guidance on gender transitioning in schools

Please, everyone, respond to the guidance and call it out as how shit it is, don't just accept this shit.

Here is the link to respond to this attack on trans youth

https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/

1. If you are under 18, are doubting/exploring your gender and wish to involve the teaching staff but not your parents, then explicitly say to them, "if my parents find out they will beat me"

This is the only way to prevent the teacher from having a legal duty to inform your parents

2. The guidance is rife with "G3nder Cri1ical" terminology, but what do you expect from the equality minister for Britain?

3. Unsupportive teachers will be able to justify their prejudice as "watchful waiting" as laid out in the guidance as step 1

Just to clarify, if a 16yo comes to ask to be referred to by a different name or pronouns step 1‽ is to not honour those requedts for an indeterminate period of time to "make sure." This will be standard across an entire country

4. A direct quote

"Does the child feel pressured to identify differently because they simply do not align with stereotypes associated with their sex? This is relevant as some people think gender identity reinforces stereotypes about men and women"

They need to spend some time on tumblr, ain't nothing about you freaks that reinforces gender stereotypes

5. Another quote

Schools "should not unilaterally adopt any changes, including using a new name or new pronouns, unless or until this has been agreed by the school or college in accordance with the proper procedures and... parental consent"

So, any time a child considers their gender identity, there must be a school meeting about accepting it. They then go on to talk about "contested views"

But if anyone has contrary views, those are protected and "must be respected," not period of denial, and informing the parent to then hold a meeting of if those views are necessary for the school to honour.

6. "Agreeing to a child’s request to have others use different pronouns about them is a significant decision."

No it fucking isn't

7. Children under the age of 11 are not allowed to have different pronouns. It's just an outright blanket ban on using gender affirming pronouns for Under 11s.

8. Over 11 well, now we have to decide if using they/them is a large enough benefit to you that it "outweighs the impact on the school community."

Idiots the lot of them

8. But if we do accept a pronoun change, you will still be referred to as "girls" or "boys" collectively, and we won't stop teachers or other students from not using your pronouns. Did you think this was to enforce your pronoun use? No, no, no, this is just to allow YOU to use those pronouns, god forbid a student decide for themselves how they want to be referred to!

9. Literally just explicit transphobia

"Schools and colleges should exhaust all other options, such as using first names, to avoid requiring other individuals having to use preferred pronouns"

10. The first and only mention of bullying, in full

"In all cases, bullying of any child must not be tolerated. No child should be sanctioned for honest mistakes when adapting to a new way of interacting with another pupil"

Why does that feel like they're defending transphobes from bullying? Oh, right, because that's what they are doing.

11. Did anyone expect anything different to this?

"Responding to a request to support any degree of social transition must not include allowing access to these spaces"

So, it will be a legal requirement for teachers in England to prevent trans people from going to a toilet or changing room designated for their gender.

12. This one is not a legal requirement but rather a "should" statement, which is trans children "should" be held to the same uniform status as other children of their AGAB.

I'm running out of commentary here

13. No one is surprised that trans people are once again banned in sports

The full doc for anyone willing to go through it

https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/supporting_documents/Gender%20Questioning%20Children%20%20nonstatutory%20guidance.pdf

Boys, girls, and the genders we aren't allowed to mention, that is my summary of the UK government proposed guidance on trans students.

Please help stop them.

#uk politics #uk #trans rights #transphobia #trans #transgender #transpride #trans pride #trans youth #uk trans #trans uk

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honeybeebytheseaa · 3 months

Text

My Grandkid HC’s

ISABELA

Lesbian. I’m sorry I just can’t see her being into guys it just doesn’t work in my brain.

Also trans of the gender (mtf)

Since she’s dropped her perfect persona, Isabela has been pulling pranks, ESPECIALLY on known little shit head Camilo. He doesn’t know whether to be proud or extremely annoyed.

Can’t cook or bake she’ll set the kitchen aflame

Always walks barefoot on the grass

Has names for most of her plants, especially the cacti

Doesn’t really involve herself in farmers work unless there is an emergency.

Developed a skill for gardening without her gift, and continues to do so even once she’s gotten it back. There’s something special about watching plants grow over time.

She still makes bouquets for events, but they’ve lost their conservative look for something more ‘Isabela’

Unlike most of her family she doesn’t mind bugs (unless they are in her room)

Very high pain tolerance. Likely due to smiling all day and cacti thorns.

She still likes pastel colors but they aren’t high on her list of favorite colors, so she opts for darker colors when choosing cloths.

She used to bite people as a kid

Has conflicting feelings on animals because on one hand yeah they are cute on the other she has to shoo them away from eating her plants every other week

Has a large man eating plant named ‘Rosita’

Sometimes she’ll take whatever is in Mirabel’s hand, put it on a high shelf she cannot reach, and walk away.

Can actually be scarier then Luisa believe it or not

SNORES SO LOUDLY the only person who can handle it is her gf

Not big on physical affection and often uses gift giving as her way of showing love (platonically and romantically)

DOLORES

Incredible musician who could basically play any instrument you hand her

She sings lullabies to the younger family members

Personally I imagine her as the only straight grandkid but obvi she is supportive of lgbtq+ since half her family is apart of it

She wouldn’t come out of her room when she first got her gift, but her parents and a very supportive Isabela eventually coaxed her out

She has headphones painted red and gold by Mirabel

autism (vine boom sound effect)

As much as she loves Isabela and appreciates all of Luisa’s hardwork; out of her cousins her and Mira get along the best.

Speaking of that Isabela and Dolores’s relationship, much like Camilo and Mirabel’s, soured as the pressure to uphold the family name increased. Before the magic disappeared they basically ignored each other, but began to reconcile during the rebuild and became close again.

Her room is sound proof (I know people say otherwise idc she needs a BREAK) but during the night she’ll sometimes open her window since it’s much quieter

I do believe she has SOME control over her gift, and in order to hear very far she has to hold a hand against her ear. When she isn’t, things are amplified but not unbearable. She’s kinda just gotten used to it.

Dolores love language is, unsurprisingly, words of affirmation.

If she gets stressed and doesn’t have access to her headphones, she’ll listen for the nearest family members voice (Ex: her fathers laugh, her mothers ranting, Camilo’s jokes, Antonio communicating with his animals)

Gets in on Isabela’s pranks now and again. She is mostly polite but has a devious side, especially with her cousins and siblings.

LUISA

I still adhere to the concept Luisa has some sort of ‘calm’ room. Wether it be an amusement park or a sauna she deserves to have somewhere to destress

Has a pile of stuffed animals, each with different names

She actually does enjoy doing chores and being active, but struggles to find a stopping point and not overwork herself

She’s more then just brawn, and was always a sharp academic when she was in school

Women enjoyer women enjoyer

VERY physically affectionate she’s giving everyone hugs and crushing their bones

Her and Camilo get along very well after Casita’s rebuild. She likes his energy and ability to let loose, and Camilo respects all the work she does around the Encanto. They mesh well.

When she first got her gift she accidentally broke her dads hand

Her father used to teach her piano, though she sorta fell out of it the older she got. Since casita’s rebuild she’s picked it back up as a hobby.

A big animal person, second to Antonio. She likes patting the donkeys on the head if she gets the chance

Has a hard time sitting down to eat because she’s always getting ready to move

If you give her anything she’ll begin sobbing and thanking you (birthdays and Christmas are rough)

She puts the younger kids if air jail if she has to

She originally struggled to control her gift, and that made her scared to touch anyone in fear she’d hurt them. But Pepa helped Luisa find ways to control the strength as she had to learn with her weather

After she lost her gift she kept trying to move the church as a force of habit

Reads a lot of fantasy novels

Helps Antonio wrangle his animals

CAMILO

(This will be more brief as I have a whole post of HC’s for this mf)

Gay and trans can’t change my mind

Despite always being hungry he cannot stomach fish. Some other seafoods are fine but the smell of fish makes him ill.

Won’t say this out loud: he is kinda legitimately afraid of Isabela ever since he’s become the target of her pranks. No one knows true fear until you realize you are caught in a Isabela prank.

Camilo’s love language is a lot of things, but quality time is high up on his list as he likes living in the moment.

Is a very good artist but gets embarrassed when people try to look at his work

Despite being a stick he is surprisingly strong.

Him and Mirabel used to be close but sort lost that connection the older they got, and even began to fight and butt heads. I like to think they do eventually become close, but it takes a lot of conversation and time.

adhd and autism (vine boom sound effect)

used to bite people as a kid

He likes reading plays and will space out for hours thinking how something translates on a stage

Sometimes he stands in front of a mirror and goes ‘why why why why why why why w

MIRABEL

The silly!!!

Like Isabela: gift giving is her way of showing affection. She loves hand crafting gifts.

This is depressing but when she didn’t get her gift she drew a door on her wall hoping the magic would make it real

Once no one would wake up so she poured water on Camilo’s head and he screamed so loud it woke everyone else up

Mirabel looks extremely innocent but will literally try to stab anyone who bothers her with her sewing needle

She used to write simple picture books for Antonio when they roomed together

She DEF got her own room during the rebuild. Like imagine saving the miracle and your family is just like “anyway go back to the baby room lol” they wouldn’t do that to her

Bisexual icon love to see it

Has zero rizz I’m sorry queen but like she’s a girl failure by heart

Is a bit of old woman and can’t stay up too late without getting tired but in turn wakes up extremely early.

Not the best academic but obviously still very smart.

She’s an empath so if you begin crying she’ll start crying too she can’t help it

Is blinder than a bat if you take her glasses away she cannot see SHIT

ANTONIO

Don’t have too much on him since he is still a baby but I have a few!

His favorite animal is the jaguar! Hence the plushie and his closeness to Parce

He likes matching animals to people, and even has a few animals named after his family.

Animals often tend to just kinda… follow him. If he goes for a walk he might came back with some new friends.

I do think he’s a vegetarian. Maybe not a vegan but eating meat is not easy for him.

He doesn’t always go to his parents if he has nightmares, and will rotate between Dolores, Mirabel, and Camilo.

Kicks in his sleep

#encanto #encanto headcanons #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal

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munsonhoneybaby · 9 months

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my love!!! That final part 🥹 you are a STAR! so good. the way you write dialogue, your Eddie especially... he's so so so lovely to read. somehow you keep his edge but all the while he's the nicest fucking guy to ever walk the earth!!!

if one day you're feeling a blurb about them or something, I'd love to read the first meeting with Wayne - I think it could be so funny and sweet. and honestly I just need an endless stream of that version of Eddie and his sweet nothings and his fondness 🥺 obsessed with everything u do WOW

you’re so sweet !! i'm so happy you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask !!

series masterlist

“Are you sure about this? I feel terrible taking up his day off with this, he should be enjoying his free time.” Frowning nervously, you picked at a string on your jeans. Though you’d been to their trailer three more times since the first, you’d yet to run into his uncle Wayne. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but you didn’t particularly want to meet him the morning after sleeping at his home unannounced. So, after making a few passive comments to Eddie about wanting to meet him, you were pleased when Eddie told you Wayne wanted to have lunch with both of you. But now, the nerves were starting to settle in.

“He will enjoy this. He’s been dyin’ to meet you, baby, believe me. I already told you, he’s gonna love you.” Taking your hand over the console, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides, we’re just goin’ to lunch at the diner. It’s not a big deal.” Pulling into the open spot next to Wayne’s truck, he put the van in park and looked over at you. “Ready?”

You blew out a breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

As he always did, Eddie got out first and opened your door for you. When you went inside, he instantly spotted Wayne, standing from the booth to greet the two of you. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Hey, kid,” He replied, pulling him into a solid hug. With a subtle yet warm smile, Wayne said your name. You held out a hand to shake but instead were given a fatherly embrace much more careful than the one he’d given his nephew. “I’m glad I could finally meet the young lady makin’ this troublemaker so happy.”

“It’s great to meet you, too. I hope you didn’t have to cancel any big plans to make time for me today,” You jested politely.

He gave a quiet laugh in response and said, “Of course not. Sleepin’ on the couch in the living room ain’t more important than this.” The waitress came to take orders, service coming quick due to the few customers in the diner. “I hear you listen to the same kind’a music as Eddie,” Wayne chimed amiably. “You like his music, too?”

“Of course,” You smile, “I think he’s incredibly talented. I love seeing him perform.” The rockstar in question was embarrassedly hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’d come to his shows if I could, but I’m always at work,” Wayne expressed regretfully. “I hear him in his room all the time, but I’ve only seen ‘im on stage once or twice since that middle school talent show. I’m glad he’s got someone he cares about there to support him all the time now.”

The food came, saving Eddie from any further spotlight, and you did your best to continue making conversation between bites. “So, did Eddie get any of his music taste from you?”

“Oh, he’d never admit it, but he tolerates some old country music thanks to me. All that metal and rock stuff is good ‘n I like that he likes it, but it’s not really my speed.”

“I’ve gotta say, it’s a little hard picturing Eds listening to country music,” You chuckle.

“Just when I’m with him,” Eddie specified.

“I’m keeping him open-minded.” The waitress placed a single check on the table and Wayne was quick to open his wallet.

“No, please– let me,” You tried to stop him.

“I would never let a lady pay for a meal. This is my treat, darlin’.” It was becoming clearer and clearer how much of an influence your boyfriend’s uncle had had on his upbringing. Handing the cash and the bill to Eddie, he nodded toward the register. “Go take care’a this.” Eddie looked over at you, but you just smiled reassuringly, so he headed for the counter. Before you could start into another line of polite conversation, Wayne spoke. His voice was gruff, quiet. There was sentiment in his tone, though he tried to hide it. “I really am glad you and Eddie found each other. I’m sure you know by now that not many people in this town give ‘im a chance. I would never wanna embarrass the boy, but he hasn’t exactly introduced me to many girls in his life. I’m glad he’s found one that’s a little more like him– that understands him.”

After glancing back at Eddie, handing over the money for your meal with a kind smile, you gave Wayne a fond look. “He cares a lot about you too, you know. It means the world to him that you took over when his Dad went to jail. And I don’t know if it means anything coming from me, but I think you did an amazing job with him.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear well in his eye, but he looked away briefly before you could see for sure. It didn’t seem like people acknowledged his parenting effort often.“You’re a sweet young woman. You’re real good for him.”

“I appreciate that,” You responded honestly.

You both started to box up the leftover food and– just before Eddie came back to the table– Wayne added, “I’ll have to show you the few baby pictures I’ve still got around of ‘im,” making you chuckle.

Eyes narrowing slightly as he gave Wayne his change, Eddie asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” You answered playfully as you stood from the booth. His uncle did the same after leaving a generous tip for the kind pregnant woman who’d waited on you. The three of you headed for the parking lot, stopping briefly to say your goodbyes before you split up. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime,” You insisted.

With another one of those barely-there smiles, Wayne clasped a hand over Eddie’s shoulder paternally. “You’ve got a good one here, boy, you’d better take good care’a her.”

Before he could respond, you assured him, “He does, Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, please, never call me that. It’s Wayne. It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Once you were back in the van with Eddie, he put the key in the ignition before pausing and looking over at you. “So, what did you two talk about while I was gone?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

Dramatically starting the van, he backed out of the parking spot as he replied, “Y’know what? Fine. Now I’m not gonna tell you about Jeff’s date with that chick from his calc class.”

“Hey, wait, c’mon–”

———————————————————————

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#too much in common #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #asks #eddie munson

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schrijverr · 1 year

Text

Honey, Honey

Wayne comes home to Eddie humming a song Steve loves. He already suspected Eddie and Steve were together, but now Eddie comes out and Wayne accepts him with open arms.

Based on this post by @missjashin

On AO3.

Ships: Steve x Eddie

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~

Wayne already suspected his boy was a goner when he first saw him with that Harrington boy. He’d been coming from work to find the two on the porch, joints in their hands. He stopped for a second and watched Eddie listen to something Steve said, chin resting on his hand, like the perfect image of a lovesick schoolgirl.

Back then Wayne had been suspicious of Steve, who had jumped up and hid the joint when he noticed him. Still a little high, but not enough to not be anxious, yet polite.

The fear in his eyes convinced Wayne to not go too hard on the boy and he is glad he didn’t. Since then, he has learned of an empty house and a daddy as mean as Wayne remembers him from high school.

Steve’s a good kid, Wayne has learned. Reliable and kind, not judging like other members of his family.

Wayne suspects Steve likes Eddie. He doesn’t know the boy as well as his own kid, but he can see him listening to Eddie’s every nonsensical ramble like it’s the wisdom of the earth. Hears how he claps when Eddie plays his guitar when they have retreated to Eddie’s room.

Luckily, Steve is a good kid, because it is clear that Eddie likes him too. Wayne sees it in how Eddie turns to Steve as if Steve is the sun and he a flower. Sees it in how Eddie will brighten when Steve is mentioned. How he’ll bring the other boy up in conversation like second nature.

However, Wayne never realized just how deep Eddie’s affections ran until today.

He has been out helping some people with their cars for a few extra bucks on the side, but it went on shorter than expected. So, he is home a little early, something he is glad for.

As is his nature, he opens the door softly. Eddie has always been a light sleeper and with his recent nightmares, Wayne does not want to wake him up if he finally managed to get some rest. The kid has had it rough since spring break and Wayne curses whatever it is that happened to him.

Instead of being greeted by soft snores, as Wayne had hoped, he is greeted by the sound of someone humming.

It takes Wayne a second to realize that the person who is humming is Eddie, who is sitting at their small kitchen table surrounded by paints and those mini figures he loves so much. The reason it takes him a second, despite the obvious and logical culprit, is because the music that Eddie is humming is not metal at all, nor any of the classic Wayne plays and Eddie tolerates.

No, because Eddie is humming Honey, Honey by ABBA. And the only reason Wayne know what song he is hearing, is because it’s a song that consistently plays on Steve’s stereo when he comes pulling in or pulls out of the trailer park.

Wayne also knows that Eddie hears that music when Steve arrives and goes. He has heard him complain about it multiple times to Steve, orating about how Steve needs to listen to better music and broaden his horizons.

A grin spreads over his face and he leans against the wall, watching Eddie hum music he claims to hate. So much for refusing to listen to the top 40.

Mentally he rolls his eyes at Eddie and his stubbornness, but it is in drenched in fondness. Eddie hasn’t had an easy life, if Steve can make him happy like this, then Wayne is just glad for his boy, who deserves the world and got nothing.

“How he thrills me,” Eddie murmurs some of the lyrics between his humming, bopping his head in a very un-metal way.

He still hasn’t noticed Wayne and Wayne feels a little bad about it. So, he clears his throat, which makes Eddie jump into the air and clutch his chest. Then, as if he doesn’t notice that he just nearly gave Eddie a heart attack, he asks: “Steve been around again?”

Immediately a flush comes over Eddie’s face. It has always been visible on his pale skin, something he used to pout about. Still does sometimes.

Feeling pity about his embarrassment, Wayne smiles kindly and assures him. “It’s okay, Eds. He clearly means a lot to you.”

Eddie looks up from behind his bangs, reminding Wayne of the twelve year old that showed up on his doorstep now already so many years ago. He looks small, very unlike the Eddie Wayne knows today. In a soft voice, he asks: “That- that would be okay?”

Now Wayne has always tried to make it clear that Eddie will be welcome in his house in every way he exists, but he has never wanted to assume or push. Clearly the message hasn’t been conveyed properly. “Of course that would be okay, boy,” Wayne tells Eddie, hoping the sincerity of the statement comes across alright.

It does, because a genuine big smile comes over Eddie’s face and soon Wayne has an arm full of nephew as the boy throws himself at Wayne.

He lets out a small “Oef,” at the impact, but steadies them easily. He has gotten used to Eddie’s physical way of showing affection and has been catching the kid for as long as he can remember. So he just holds him tight, showing what he is terrible at saying.

At twenty, Eddie is much bigger than he was at twelve. He has to duck to bury his head in the crook of Wayne’s neck, instead of pushing his face into Wayne’s stomach. However, his hands still clutch the back of Wayne’s shirt like he used to do and suddenly eight years doesn’t seem so long.

“You’re always going to be my boy,” Wayne whispers fiercely into Eddie’s hair, the words coming easier when wrapping his arms around the boy.

Both of them ignore how a few tears slip from Eddie’s eyes as he hugs Wayne tighter. After a few seconds, he quietly says: “Love you, uncle Wayne.”

“You too, Eds, you too,” Wayne replies and, by the way Eddie lets go and smiles, that is enough for him.

Eddie wipes his eyes dry, laughing: “Sorry about that,” not sounding very bothered.

“It’s okay, kid,” Wayne assures him, just to be sure. Then his gentle smile turns into a smirk. “So, you and Steve. How long has that been going on?”

“Uhm, since- since I got out of the hospital,” Eddie admits with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head.

Wayne raises a brow and says: “You got out of the hospital five months ago.”

“Yup, yeah, that’s- that’s right, yeah,” Eddie nods, biting his lip.

“You two being safe?” Wayne asks. “I know no pregnancies are going to come from it, but-”

“Oh my god, uncle Wayne, stop!” Eddie exclaims, dramatically putting his hands over his ears to shut Wayne out. “We’re being safe, please don’t continue that sentence. We don’t need the talk, I promise.”

“Just making sure,” Wayne grouches, silently amused at Eddie’s dramatics. He knows the kid is smart enough to use protection, but it can’t hurt to say.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, sounding sincere, despite the previous reaction.

With that established, Wayne nods. Then he moves on: “No funny business when I’m here and next time your boy comes around, I’m asking him about his intentions.”

After that, Wayne walks away to start dinner as behind him Eddie guffaws and splutters some sort of negative at the accusation that they would do something with Wayne in the house with them, before saying: “Please, don’t do that, uncle Wayne. That’s embarrassing.”

“It’s my right to be embarrassing,” Wayne informs him bluntly. “Which is why he will also hear about the song you were humming.”

Eddie groans and dramatically drapes himself over the kitchen counter as he laments: “I will never recover from this mortification.”

He continues to complain, but Wayne knows him better than that. He can see right through the put upon act and see how pleased Eddie is that Wayne apparently doesn’t care that he has a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. That he is willing to do all the things normal parents do.

However, Wayne isn’t going to say that. It’s more than enough for both of them to have it hanging between them, unspoken but felt.

Wayne has suspected his boy was a goner since he first saw him with that Harrington boy and now it is confirmed. And he can’t be more happy about that. Eddie deserves someone, who makes him want to listen to sappy love music.

#rr writing #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie lives au #eddie munson #wayne munson #uncle wayne #steve harrington

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hippielittlemetalhead · 1 year

Text

Okay but hear me out!

Punk King Steve 'The Hair' Harrington! He starts to go Punk even before season 1!

Just! Hear me out!?!

What about pre season 1 Steve goes on one last business trip with his parents to like New York or Boston or something cause he still had hope that maybe if he went with them after a victorious sophomore year making Varsity and actually having decent grades and a reputation at school built on charm and being a good little Harrington heir his parents would actually act like they care. What happens is he ends up being dragged along to and shown off at boring dinner parties but is otherwise left alone and unsupervised. He stumbles across a music store where he is obviously out of place but the music playing is loud and angry and matches the knot filling up his chest. So he spends most of the trip exploring the city with this group of people who recognize the anger in him and aren't the type to gatekeep cause what's more punk than finding your own path? Even if it's not the same as theirs he still deserves the space to find out.

And yeah he seems more the 'infiltrate and dismantle' type than the 'throw a flaming brick' type but the spirit is there.

So he learns to coiff his hair and make it big but not so much his mom would kill him. He learns to wear pants and style his shirts so they accentuate his form not make him look soft and respectable and to accessorize in small ways that are obvious to those who are observant enough to look and to those who know what to look for but still not be so showy his parents will get on him for anything. He gets a bunch of tapes and spends time making mixtapes of his favorites and buys a walkman so he can listen to his music without his parents hearing. He learns how to discreetly add a bit of blush and natural tinted mascara and tinted chapstick cause he learns he likes makeup but that sort of thing would cause problems in a place like Hawkins. He builds a greater tolerance with these people he's come to trust and learns you can actually enjoy getting drunk when it's just being stupid with some friends and not meant to make a statement. And before he has to go home he's gifted a bottle of sheer pink nail polish that makes his nails look healthy and taken care of and natural but he'll know and that's all that matters.

Steve goes back to Hawkins a little different, a little meaner, a little looser and more self-assured. Steve goes back to Hawkins and notices Nancy Wheeler. The perfect prissy princess with an edge that intrigued him even if he saw it by accident. And he spends the entire time he woos and subsequently dates her trying to bring that out, that bit of steel and fire that still really worked with her soft hyper femme aesthetic. And he falls head over heels for this girl who is soft but resilient and polite but opinionated and who obviously wants MORE and he wants to give it to her.

But then Will Byers goes missing, followed by Barb and Nancy is showing her steel but at the side of Jonathan Byers as his parents leave messages extending their trip and leaving forwarding numbers that he knows won't work when he really needs them. And he breaks the camera and that makes him feel like he's falling back into who he was before the music and the summer away from this small town. They fight in an alley after he says things he doesn't believe but knows would hurt because he couldn't get the clawing in his chest to just go away. And he takes the beating because he knows he was wrong and he remembers the scared looks people gave him that one time he got into a bar fight he doesn't actually remember but knows he won with a guy who wouldn't take a no from one of the girls in the group Steve was drinking with.

So he takes the beating and doesn't press charges and goes to apologize after dumping Tommy and Carol and comes face to face with something from his worst nightmares. He goes back after running away because he can't leave them there. He picks up a bat with nails run through it and lets loose the thing clawing in his chest. He keeps himself between the monster and the others and he keeps them safe. Will comes home. Barb doesn't.

He goes to Indianapolis for a new camera for Jonathan and comes back with more angry music. He keeps making trips and comes back with the sides of his hair shaved in not quite a Mohawk but close and a tattoo or two in places he can hide easily and a heavy leather jacket. The changes make the pacing thing in his chest quiet some and he wears a smile around Nancy and the Hollands and he walks tall through the hallways of Hawkins High his senior year.

Tommy Hagan tries to say he went bitch for Nancy Wheeler since he doesn't sleep around anymore or take his frustrations out on those weaker and less fortunate than him and he tries to say Steve is joining the freaks like Munson and his nerds but even they won't have him. Tommy Hagan and some others try to jump Steve in an empty hallway after school and before practice to "teach the dethroned King a lesson", because if Byers could leave him a bloody mess then he was never that tough. The others sport bruises and split lips and bruised egos. Tommy Hagan had a broken nose and bruised ribs and a look of fear when he's within 10 feet of his former best friend.

Steve Harrington has no throne and no court but he still undeniably wears the crown.

(part 2) (part3.1)

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heliads · 2 years

Note

Could you do a Wyatt Lykensen x reader (human…witch😉) there relationship started to blossom in zombies 2 when they got paired together for a history project. (Have not seen zombies 3 yet, I need to) The reader is friends with Addison but not on the cheer squad , but in chess club. The typical smart, wallflower friend. (Wyatt is so cool!)

wyatt IS so cool, anon, i could not agree more. also pls see zombies 3 it is fascinating and i love it

masterlist

You’re not sure what good you expected to come of the werewolves, but they’re certainly throwing Seabrook into upheaval. The pack barely arrived a few days ago, and already you can tell that nothing will be as it once was.

Your fears could, of course, be more than slightly exacerbated by the fact that the werewolves are making your best friends totally freak out. Zed is certain that their quickly lessening tolerance for proper etiquette will lead to harsher crackdowns on zombies, and although Addison is more wearily accepting of them than her boyfriend, no one can deny that the werewolves are as suspicious as they come.

You, for one, are used to all manner of suspicious things. Suspicious happens when you’re best friends with the zombies even before Seabrook lowered its restrictions on monsters, when your best friend, Addison, has a shock of white hair that she can’t explain, and also when you happen to be a witch.

It has been fairly easy to be a witch in this town, all things considered. You’re able to pass as a normal human so long as you aren’t obvious with your spells, and by the time you revealed yourself, everyone was so accepting of zombies that they just shrugged and admitted you along with them. Now, the worst you have to fear is someone begging you for a love potion the night before the school dance.

Still, so long as there is tension within Seabrook, you’ll never be totally at ease. You don’t need Zed’s whispering to tell that there’s definitely something up with the werewolves. Although they claim that they’re only here to go to school, they’ve been eyeing Addison’s hair with enough fervor to make anyone doubt them. The only question now is when they’ll strike, and how bad the aftermath will be.

For now, though, they seem content with doing their best to blend in. It feels like everywhere you look, you see a werewolf or two trying to make their way in the complex world of Seabrook High social politics, or that could just be due to the fact that one of them is approaching you right now.

You’ve been on the receiving end of a fair share of werewolf attention ever since the pack arrived. They’ve been all over you in not so discreet questions about your spells, what they can be used for and how good you are at locating other sources of magic.

Of all of the werewolves, however, you think that Wyatt Lykensen has been the most persistent. You’ve seen him hanging around a couple of times now, pretending to be reading a book or doing homework, but whenever you glance away, he goes back to his chief task: watching you.

It doesn’t feel malicious, his sudden attention, more like he’s trying to get a read on you. No one quite knows how to deal with a witch, seeing as there’s only ever been one of you, but you get the feeling Wyatt is angling for something a little more. You can’t help the guess that the werewolves want your help, but whether they’ll actually ask for it, that remains to be seen.

Today, however, just might be that day. Wyatt slides into a seat at the other side of the library table, propping his elbows up on the smooth surface.

He says nothing at first, and you arch a brow at him. “Good morning,” you say pointedly, and he has the decency to look chagrined.

“Good morning indeed,” Wyatt comments all too casually, “How was your weekend?”

You shrug absentmindedly, attention less on Wyatt and more on the chessboard in front of you. Although Addison may be one of your best friends, you’re far less destined for the cheerleading squad than she is. Instead, you’re a dedicated member of the Seabrook chess team, even when that means you have to study up outside of meetings to make sure you can keep your winning streak.

“Not bad,” you mumble, staring daggers at a rook that refuses to act as you’d like it, “Did some witchy stuff, you know, the usual.”

Wyatt seems intrigued by this. “Witchy stuff? Like the talismans in front of you?”

You snap out of your chess-induced haze long enough to glance at him in confusion, then realize what he’s referring to. “These aren’t talismans,” you laugh, “these are chess pieces. You know, like the game? I’m trying to practice.”

Wyatt frowns. “We don’t play a lot of chess in our pack.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” you remark, although Wyatt looks faintly hurt so you add on: “It’s a fun game, you should try it some time.”

He grins at you, fangs flashing in the fluorescent lighting. “Maybe you should teach me.”

“Maybe you should find a more effective way of stalking me,” you counter, “or otherwise do a better job of acting like you actually want to learn the game instead of figuring out if I can use my magic to help your pack.”

Wyatt leans back against his chair, groaning. “You always assume the worst of us.”

You give him a look. “And am I wrong?”

“No,” he says a little too quickly, “but you never know. One of these days, we might surprise you.”

The bell rings overhead, releasing you to class. You stand up and start to gather your things.

“I’ll be sure to tell you when that happens,” you say coolly, and walk past Wyatt to head to your next period. Despite this obvious dismissal, however, his grin only seems to broaden.

After that, you and your pride have to head to math, which diminishes both. Your class after that is history, though, and that usually picks up your spirits at least a little bit. Or, it does, until you walk in the room and your normally fantastic teacher announces that you’ll be doing a partner project, and it’ll be his choice for the partners.

There is a special place in hell saved for the person who keeps putting partner projects in school curriculums. No one learns a single thing except that you can never trust anyone to do the work except yourself. A partner project just signals that you’re about to waste far too many hours of your time, and who could ever spare the energy for that?

Your foul mood is only worsened when your partner is announced to be Wyatt. He slides into a seat next to you so you can work, and you glare at his broad smile.

“Did you do this?” You ask, gesturing vaguely between the two of you.

“Do what?” Wyatt asks innocently. Across the room, the history teacher flashes him a not-so-subtle thumbs up, and you arch a brow.

“Alright,” he admits, “maybe I recommended that I work with a good friend of mine so I wouldn’t have any difficulties in finding a partner.”

You give him an incredulous stare. “And we’re such good friends that your excuse would work?”

Wyatt chuckles. “Of course we are. Now, what do you want to do for the project? We should really get started soon, you know.”

You bite back a few choice words. “I couldn’t agree more. How about you pick the topic, Wyatt? You seem to have so much sway over everything else, I would hate to disappoint you of another chance to trap me in something.”

He laughs. “Well, with that outstanding vote of confidence, I would never pass up the chance to decide. We’re supposed to be doing a project on the lasting impacts of ancient Indian culture, right? How about we do it on chess?”

At your baffled look, Wyatt elaborates. “Chess came from an Indian game called chaturanga. Most intelligence dates it as originating from around the sixth century, which is well within the time limit of the project. I figure you know enough about the game that you could help us coast on your expertise.”

You nod slowly. “At this point, I think you have more expertise than I do. How did you know that? I thought you had no idea what chess was.”

Wyatt lifts a shoulder. “I might have Googled a few things after this morning. Figured it couldn’t hurt.”

You stare at him a second longer, then break out into quiet laughter. “I’m almost impressed,” you say, and Wyatt smiles back at you.

“And I’m almost sure that was a compliment. So, does that mean we have a truce? Can we be friends?”

You shake his offered hand before you can second guess yourself. “Sounds good to me.”

As it turns out, being friends with Wyatt is quite good indeed. Usually, you’re quite content to stick to your own devices, preferring quiet meetings with your chess club or couple of best friends to larger gatherings, but Wyatt makes you feel far more daring than you ever have.

At first, Zed is incredibly suspicious of Wyatt’s sudden kindness to you, but as time goes on and you get to know the pack a little better, you’re able to assuage his worries yourself. Willa may have plans for her wolves, but Wyatt hangs out with you for the sole pleasure of your company. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone enjoy the sound of your laugh so much.

Besides, Wyatt might be the sole exception to your rule about hating partner projects. Not only does he do an equal amount of work, he seems to spend just about as much time studying your smile so as to commit it to memory. He trades cited sources with inside jokes, properly formatted paragraphs with comments that make you have to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t burst out laughing in the middle of class.

Even after the project ends, you continue to spend your free time with Wyatt. You can’t help it, it’s just so easy to talk to him that you forget that you could have ever worried about his ulterior motives. Although Wyatt certainly puts in the hours towards attempting to master chess, he has yet to beat you in a game. That only makes him want to try even harder, though.

In the end, you’re happy with him, and that’s the simple truth. It takes some time for you to realize that you don’t just want his friendship but something more, and after that, Wyatt comes to about the same conclusion.

About a week or so after the project ends, you find him waiting for you by your locker after school ends, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands and a very nervous look on his face. Any worries he might have about asking you out, though, are quickly dissipated by your immediate acceptance.

After all, why on earth would you have reason to turn him down? Wyatt makes you feel like no one else. Even using your magic doesn’t leave you with a rush like this. At the end of the day, you can look to him in times of deepest trouble, and that is more than enough to leave you happy.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

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latelyanobsession · 2 years

Text

The thing I love most about Harringrove as a ship is how real it actually feels to me.

You gotta follow me here for a sec.

My mom grew up in a rural town in Ohio. Even smaller than Hawkins would be... and one of the things she gripes most about that town is how all the classmates she had have never left. Their whole waking reality is that tiny place and everything in it. Where the rich popular kid at her high school was the daughter of someone who owned the local gas station. Where the poor kids lived on the edge of town and worked the farms all summer long for cash. Where most kids graduated to then take over their parent's professions as the town veterinarian, the doctor, the local political leader... Where a night out consisted of one movie theater, underaged drinking, and speeding down unpaved country roads. Where most kids just married one another straight after high school and started a family without question.

They never ever left. Everything was taken at face value.

And I feel like this plugs right into where Steve is at the beginning of season 2. Having Nancy read over his early application essay. He even says that it may just be better if he goes to work for his dad after high school... that having a provided job, insurance, 'all the adult things' wouldn't be so bad. Steve is getting tired of Hawkins but he has no clear idea of how to truly be rid of it. He's starting to accept it... That he may never leave Hawkins. It's just not possible for him.

Then Billy comes into the school lot, engine roaring. And for the first time Steve is seeing something. A way out of Hawkins. A potential new future outside of Indiana. Billy's presence shows Steve that there is a wider world outside of towing the line and meeting other's expectations, taking over his dad's insurance business, being a staple in a community that for the most part never changes. Billy is a big fish being thrust into a small pond.

With Billy, Steve sees possibilities. He doesn't have to 'raise hell for four years' only to 'talk about it for the next forty' (as my mother would say). High school will no longer be the only good thing Steve can look back on. He doesn't even need to look back. Everything lies ahead. Billy is a rush of fresh air to this stifling place that Steve increasingly feels trapped by.

Not too dissimilarly, Billy comes to Hawkins feeling trapped. It's a town where every house has an American flag, and the spiciest thing on any local menu is three-bean chili. It's lackluster, boring, stuffy, and not tolerant to change. Everyone who's ever come to Hawkins from the outside eventually becomes Hawkins head to toe. Billy doesn't want that. He hates that. He is not about to accept and adopt a sleepy country lifestyle. Full of rolling hills and quiet Sunday mornings. Family dinners and church potlucks. County fairs and sprawling farmsteads. It's ridiculous, borderlining on offensive that Billy should have to adhere to such things. He wants to maintain every inch of who he is without compromise. Live in the fast lane even if its a two-lane highway through Amish country. Take in the sun on bright summer days even if its poolside and not oceanside. Smoke and listen to metal with the volume blaring and the windows down even as others shake their heads in disapproval. Wear whatever he damn well pleases while others wear khakis and polos.

The bottom line is Billy was always too big for Hawkins and Steve has outgrown it.

They need each other to survive. To get out of Hawkins. To truly live the lives they are meant to.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove headcanon

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justonemorewallflower · 1 year

Text

JEALOUSY - wednesday x tyler

JEALOUSY - WEDNESDAY & TYLER

Requested by/for: @ijuswanttolivemyfuckinglife

WORDCOUNT: 953

(For sake of convenience in this one shot, more has been learned about Hydes so the outcasts don’t all hate Tyler and he’s a Nevermore student).

It was Wednesday’s second year at Nevermore and it was time for the Rave’N Dance again and no one was surprised that her date was the same person it was last year. She’d never admit it but her and Tyler might as well be a couple. Tyler still had obvious feelings for her and she returned them, just not as obviously. But she tolerated him and a lot of people knew that was some sign to their relationship.

Wednesday was sitting, people watching before she would do anything interesting. She wasn’t much of a dancer anyways. At least, not in the way everyone else at the dance was. She wasn’t going to do any cheesy slow dance. Or at least that’s what she had told herself at the start of the night.

Tyler eventually went to get them some punch and she had joined, wanting to get her own as she knew he would be careful to not give her much since it was likely spiked but she didn’t care. She tried to be polite about it, just grabbing her own cup as he was getting his own.

“I was going to get it for you,” he told her with a curious expression.

“I’d rather get my own… but thank you.” She said the last part quietly, she’d rather be murdered than have anyone like Enid hear her say thank you to someone for something rather minuscule.

Tyler nodded, smiling a little before walking over to some seats. Wednesday joined him and they drank their punch in peace for a while, watching the party unfold.

Their peace was interrupted a while later when a girl who Wednesday recognized as a vampire asked Tyler if he wanted to dance. Wednesday thought this girl must have a death wish as she believed practically the whole school called Tyler “hers” and knew of their “relationship.” Wednesday was more annoyed at the fact that the girl was acting as if she wasn’t even there.

Tyler looked over to Wednesday hesitantly and since Wednesday didn’t want to show such an emotion like jealousy she didn’t say a word and kept her face neutral. Tyler didn’t know how to take that but set his cup down and stood up. The vampire girl smiled as she grabbed one of his arms and started dragging him towards the dance floor.

Wednesday let it happen, but not for long. She kept a close eye on them and when the girl got a little too close for her liking she seethed and got up. She approached the pair though once she got to them she didn’t quite know what to say without it being obvious she was jealous.

After a moment when the pair were both staring at her, the vampire with annoyance and Tyler with a slightly amused expression, she said, “Enid said she wants to see Tyler.” She grabbed ahold of one of his hands and pulled him away from the vampire, who scoffed and gave Wednesday a mean glare but she returned one twice as mean.

Once they were far enough away she stopped Tyler and wrapped her arms around his neck as he hooked his arms around her waist. “I’m the only one you dance with, got it?” She asked bluntly, annoyance clear in her voice.

Tyler nodded as he smiled at her, trying to contain a laugh. She noticed the expression and furrowed her eyebrows, “what’s so funny?”

“You’re jealous, that’s what,” he replied as he finally let out a small laugh.

“I am not.” There was no way in hell she was going to ever admit to that, no matter how true it was.

“Well, does Enid need to see me?”

“No,” she responded quickly without thinking. She realized her mistake only after he replied, “then that’s not why you had taken me away from the girl.”

Wednesday scowled as she let go and moved to try and walk away. He caught her by her hand and moved to spin her around to which she had to reluctantly follow through with. He then pulled her close, “It’s okay to admit you were jealous, Wednesday.”

“Jealousy isn’t an emotion I’m capable of,” she responded simply.

“Then you wouldn’t care if I danced with another girl?” He inquired, leaning down a little to try and meet her dark eyes that were more focused on the space behind him than on him.

She struggled to reply as she answered honestly after a couple moments, “I would care.”

“Then you’re jealous,” he said back with an amused smile as she glared up at him.

“I just don’t trust others,” she shot back as she raised her chin, trying to get back her confidence. She wasn’t going to admit to Tyler that she didn’t want anyone else to dance with him. That was pathetic.

“I also thought you didn’t like to dance,” he added with a teasing smile.

She took in and let out an angry breath, “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Wednesday was not one for public displays of affection but she had used this method several times before and it had been effective so she pulled him down by his suit collar and kissed him roughly.

She made it quick though so no one would have noticed it unless they had been closely watching the pair.

As she fixed his collar a bit he joked with her, “You’re such a tease.”

“Get used to it,” she replied, a smile threatening to tug at the corners of her mouth.

“I will,” he smiled before he pulled her in for another kiss which she accepted and returned, a bigger part of her than she would admit hoping the vampire girl was seeing it.

(Hope you enjoyed this and that it was okay lol! I wanted to do one at the dance since I feel like most jealous Wednesday one shots take place at Weathervane and I wanted to do something a little different than what I’ve personally read so far).

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el-the-cell · 3 months

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I think many students my age, especially in the west, don't realize what going to school actually means.

Yes, teachers treat us like shit, and are really entitled sometimes. The experience of going to school is hard, humiliating, very difficult to tolerate pressure-wise. And that is not ok. It is not good.

HOWEVER. It is not fair to think that just going to work instead is the solution. It is still vital that we keep going to school, clench our teeth, fight our way to graduation because otherwise we are fucked.

From the sixties up until i'd say the nineties, students were very politically active, trying to ensure their rights were respected, both as individuals, and as the collective group of students. Student's rights were one of the ways that people below eighteen could actually try to influence actively what concerned their lives.

This does not happen much anymore. The one thing i truly learned in school form the societal hierarchy point of view, was to keep my mouth shut as much as possible.

The effort that was put into making schools mandatory, so that lower class people could be at less of a disadvantage was insane. The hard work it took to get teens to go to school instead of working full time in factories or in the field is not something to forget. School is a right, and a hard earned right to be treasured.

And our government (italy), and i assume many others too, is trying to turn school into something made to churn out workers. They are exploiting our anxiety over not being able to make a living once we graduate, in order to get us to work instead of studying.

With the demographic change, the few young workers can no longer sustain the needs of the ageing population, but the government refuses to let immigrants in, because their whole voter base and popular support is based on the vestiges of fascism.

Young educated people flee the country like they are jumping into the water from the burning sinking ship that it is, choosing to work and study where they can actually get a chance at living a decent life.

All these factors contribute to a huge worker shortage, and the one way this country could think of as a remedy, was to get people into the mindset of finding a job as soon as possible. It's like entering the job market is the only important thing we are supposed to learn about in school.

They force us to participate in utterly useless unpaid internship programs, and it has happened before that students died on the job. There are so many activities that focus on what we want to do for work, not what we want to study or anything like that. And they just keep adding them. We had to endure conferences where the representatives of industries came to promote their corporate hell-scapes in order to convince us to stay and give up on anything else we want to do.

They are so fucking desperate and so fucking bad at appealing to us that it makes me both laugh and feel nauseous. Like wtf. WHY AM I MISSING FOUR HOURS OF PHYSICS TO HEAR A COP TRYING TO CONVINCE US TO BECOME COPS AS WELL. WHAT THE FUCK, PLEASE TEACH ME MAXWELL'S EQUATIONS INSTEAD YOU FUCKING COWARDS

#fuck the system #politics #student rights

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late-night-secrets · 2 years

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My dancer

Relationship: Kuroo x female Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, hinted sexual themes -> 16+! (reader discretion advised)

Word count: ~2.2k (in 1 chapter)

Description: In which Kuroo realizes, once again, how madly in love he is.

masterlist

When the lights dimmed down and the curtains opened, Kuroo was not really sure what to expect. The last time he had gone to a theatre it was some obligatory family event he had slept through most of the time. It was not like he despised performing arts, yet he was not too keen on consuming some either. If he wanted visual entertainment, he would rather watch a movie than go to a theatre. Back then, he had been young and had had not much patience. Yet, he was sitting here now and caught himself being curious and even, a tiny bit, excited. After all, he had grown, maybe became a bit more open-minded towards it all.

After all, he already should have sat here years ago.

However, grown up or not, he quickly got reminded why he had avoided theatres in his free time not even fifteen minutes into the evening. He might be more tolerant now but, with all due respect, he had realized that a performance of a hobby dance school did not entertain him. Fairly speaking, it was cute how the five-year-old pounded across the stage, jumping rather less synchronized when the music gave it away and occasionally spinning around all while having the brightest of grins on their faces, obviously having a blast. Still, Kuroo tried and failed to share the apparently never ending excitement of the spectators sitting in the front rows who could not stop applauding and taking pictures.

Probably the parents, he assumed. Kuroo had always considered himself a pretty empathic person but right now he simply could not understand how someone was that enthusiastic about some children in costumes. Maybe he would understand once he was a father himself. So instead of clapping like one of those toy monkeys with cymbals, he applauded politely every once in a while.

He skimmed through the program every spectator had found lying on their seat. Apparently, they had scheduled the children’s performances first, and as the evening progressed the dancers would get older. The urge to groan frustratedly grew as he realized he had to wait for at least another hour. From then onwards it should be more bearable for him.

His eyes rapidly jumped over the names of the performers, in the dim light barely readable, until they came to a quick halt. A sudden wave of pride overcame him, and he could not contain his smile when he read her name. Although it was just some cheap, clearly self-made prospect, seeing it printed black on white looked so official. Did she feel the same when she had looked through the setup during his matches? Had she read his name and thought to herself, “Oh, I know that guy – That’s my guy!”?

“Thank you again for coming,” the woman next to him whispered. It was her mother. Both her parents sat to his right. They had gone through these performances many, many times already. “Although she always says you don’t need to come, she’s actually very happy, you know.”

It took Kuroo a few moments to realize that she was consoling him. Unconsciously, he had started shaking his leg, a clear sign of impatience. As soon as he noticed, he stopped. “No,” he wanted to clarify immediately. “I mean, yes. I know.” He sat up properly and tried to focus on what was happening on the stage. “Of course I have to come,” he added with a low voice. “It was long overdue.”

And that was the truth. Considering how many years they were dating already, it was almost embarrassing to admit that this was the first official performance he ever saw. In this regard they had been nothing but unlucky; be it volleyball nationals, a broken arm of hers, his sister’s wedding, the dance school skipping the yearly stage performances due to construction work… Throughout the years there had been many reasons why Kuroo could not have attended, and the more often it had happened, the bigger grew the clod of guilt in his heart. Especially when she had watched most of his matches so dutifully and enthusiastically.

“You didn’t miss much. I believe it’s a little tiring,” her mother told him. He was hearing these words for the umpteenth time now, not only from his – as they liked to call themselves – soon-to-be parents-in-law – even though a proposal was nowhere near in sight – but also from his girlfriend. Every time it was clear that another year would pass without him seeing her dancing on stage, she had always waved it off, “It doesn’t matter. ‘Nothing special’ to put it into Kenma’s words. I mean, of course I’m a little sad. But it is as it is. After all, it’s just a hobby.” Each time it had nagged at him how calm she had said those words when her eyes clearly told how disappointed she was. Not necessarily in him, but in the whole situation.

Therefore, him being here was actually quite a big deal. For the past few weeks, she had alternated between foreseeing any kind of catastrophe that would prevent Kuroo to see her performance once again, and constantly asking him if he really wanted to come since it would probably only bore him. Again, she had appeared quite collected, yet he knew how excited and happy she was. He had noticed it in the way her eyes had shone a little brighter and her walk had become a little bouncier every time he had reassured her that he was very much looking forward to finally seeing her dancing on stage. For that alone, sitting here and watching children hopping in the spotlight had already been worth it.

So, he responded honestly, “I wouldn’t say tiring. Just… not the first thing that crosses my mind to get rid of boredom.” Even though he did not play as much volleyball as he used to do in high school, he still enjoyed working out. He liked to feel the sweat dripping down his forehead, his skin burning after the ball hit his arms and his muscles ripping apart as he forced himself to go further, to jump higher, to run faster. He preferred moving around, not watching someone else do it. Yet tonight, he was more than willing to sit in the dark among many others to focus on the only illuminated spot in the theatre, namely the stage.

“Well, I just hope you won’t regret it.”

“Oh” A small smile appeared on his face. “I most definitely won’t.” And that he was sure of.

As the evening continued, Kuroo thought about the old days. Back in high school as he got aware of his interest in her had he already known that being in a relationship not only meant to have an important person, but also being one? Probably not. He vaguely remembered how he had pestered her to come and watch one of his matches when they had been nothing more but shallow friends. Often she had declined jokingly stating that one might think they would be dating if she showed up because of him.

But then, one day during a match against another school in Tokyo he had spared a look over the ranks somewhat mindlessly. – “Well, I heard that our volleyball club was actually quite good, so I came to confirm it myself.” – How startled he had been when he had seen her beaming and cheering. He still remembered it clearly since he had failed the next receive in his surprise. This was the moment he had realized there was no other face he would rather spot watching him play. That he had fallen in love.

During that time, he had already known she also got a passion as big as his for volleyball. As they gradually had grown closer, he had noticed just how much she actually loved to dance. Having people around she was comfortable with she knew no shame in holding back as soon as any kind of melody sounded. On rare occasions she would even start to swing her body randomly without any music playing; spinning around and throwing limps graciously in a rhythm nobody could hear but her. Nowadays he knew it was a sign that she got a song stuck in her head.

(read the rest on ao3)

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfic #kuroo fluff #fluff #haikyuu fluff #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #oneshot #haikyuu oneshot #reader insert #dancing #haikyuu nekoma

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nobleclover · 1 year

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How to do a Better Velma Show

No, I haven't watched HBO's Velma because it sucks ass based on the reviews, and I don't wanna boost its ratings by hate-watching. So, instead, I'm gonna provide a few ideas that I have to make a better show centred around Velma. These are only my ideas but feel free to give your opinions on them.

Make Velma flawed, but likeable and relatable. No character is perfect, but it's fine to include a few flaws in some characters. For her, maybe make her just a little bossy, regarding Shaggy, but not to the point of insufferable, in fact make her learn what being a good leader is, while keeping in touch with her famous characteristics. Make her a bit too quick thinking, but eventually have her learn better critical analysis when it comes to solving mysteries.

Race swaps are fine; include them if you want, but leave out the goddamn stereotypes, e.g. Velma being a pretentious, know-it-all southeast Asian girl. Like, not all Asians are like this!

Cut down on the gore and sex scenes. This is when they were set in HIGH SCHOOL, right??? So, why does it have a scene of some girls showering with their lady parts covered? I mean, come on, I know it's supposed to be for adults, but don't sexualise kids! Or keep bringing up peepee jokes in relation to some kid! (I'm talking about the one with Fred) Plus, as someone who draws gore, gore doesn't equal "mature show". Putting gore in a show for shock value just comes off as lazy. I also recommend either having the murder victims killed off in a "clean" way (no violence like removing their brains, maybe something mysterious) or maybe have them kidnapped or something. Yeah, Mystery Incorporated had a lot of death but didn't go over the top with its violent scenes.

Hire better voice actors. The voice acting in this show is terrible, particularly for those voicing the side characters and Mindy Kaling. :/ The other main characters, I feel they could be better, but the character with the most tolerable voice acting is Norville, voiced by Sam Richardson. He could sound a little goofy like Shaggy, but not too much. Speaking of...

Give my man Shaggy more respect. He doesn't have to get with Velma, but he also doesn't need to be treated this shitty. Like, maybe have her be touched by Shaggy's confession, but politely let him down and apologise for not being able to return those feelings. Also, make him a dog lover, a foodie, and take out the "junkie" jokes. Make him smart yet goofy as well!

Fred could've SERIOUSLY been done better. -_- I don't mind him being written as a rich kid, but maybe have him be a kind guy who's eager to be independent and start his own trap making business. An idea his own dad looks down upon. Have him be fed up hanging around with his douchebag jock friends and start hanging with the Mystery Gang slowly over time. Oh, and a personal choice, make him neurodivergent. :D

Make Velma neurodivergent as well. Just saying. UWU

Take out the godawful meta humour and pop culture references. I don't need to explain why, but I will say that Mindy Kaling should've actually put a lot more effort into her writing.

Have Daphne be only a slight snob, but not a bitch. In fact, have her eventually diss the status quo and go hang with the Mystery Gang and embrace her goofy self like in some other incarnations, e.g. Be Cool, Scooby Doo. Oh, and have her be part of the karate club.

Maybe have Velma's parents be more loving and perhaps diss the "missing mother" subplot. Maybe have them be divorced and Velma missing the time when they used to be together.

Somehow introduce Scooby Doo into this. The gang isn't the same without him.

More convincing platonic and romantic chemistry between characters. Doesn't matter if they're hetero or LGBT, MAKE THEM WORK.

BETTER DEPICTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS.

Don't hire Mindy Kaling on the team. XD

OK, these are my thoughts on how to make a better Velma show! Feel free to add your own input as well!

#my thoughts #rant #velma dinkley #velma show #fred jones #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #no i will not be watching velma #mindy kaling sucks #she's transphobic too so yeah

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cyberdragoninfinity · 8 months

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I think it'd be funny if IPC was like, The hang-out spot for the Arc-V kids after school. They take up all 2 tables in the lobby and get pretty loud sometimes but they're polite and tip well so they're off Paradox's shit list (for now anyways). I also like the idea of this gaggle of silly theater kids adopting Lester into their friend group and roping him into their shenanigans.

OH THIS IS CUTE.... once im in the arc-v trenches properly and have a feel for these kiddos i'll be able to more properly scry them into Kansas but this idea of IPC occasionally being commandeered by theater kids is so fucking funny (IPC's also open late so you KNOW theyre getting hit by the post-show cast midnight munchies too)

like. let's be real Paradox is practically theater kid adjacent anyway his tolerance level is high. he might even be a little fond of 'em. (Sherry kind of wants to pick Sylvio up and throw him like a football, meanwhile.)

Lester has a combination of "never really having friends his own age" AND "Mancini family patented emotional inability to tell when people are being nice to them" so I think he'd actually be a little... shy if these friendly silly theater kids come for him 0_0 give him some time he'll get there <3 (again need to actually watch arc-v but i think lester and sora have actually already met via a Twitch chat where they were yelling death threats back and forth at each other over fnaf lore. eheheh.)

#ygo posting #asks #anonymous #5ds pizza au #ygo spinoff college au

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ssozo · 1 year

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27. Perhaps withh Hancock? From the nsfw prompts? Seems fitting for him (he can fuck right? Hes packing?)

hancock + aphrodisiacs

He’d already had three hits of jet and a singular mentat. Neo sat politely as the ghoul finished what sat before him.

“What’s got you so stiff, brother? Need something to relax?” Hancock sat next to the vault dweller, one hand laying across the back of the couch, and the other casually resting on Neo’s leg. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume Hancock had done so accidentally.

Neo was never much for chems before the war. He’d seen addiction run through his family and in a previous life he swore to avoid all substances like the plague, alcohol included. It made conversations with others difficult before, always turning down a beer or declining going out with his coworkers to the bar, but he could live with that. It was fine.

He changed his mind after stepping into the wasteland for the first time. There was no way he could handle the change sober.

It’s why Neo found himself hanging around Goodneighbor more often than not- Sanctuary was too painful to stay for long, even with Preston there to comfort him. Chems became a way to blur his past into a dull ache, and fuck if he wasn’t going to take advantage of one of the best sources of free drugs in the Commonwealth.

Hancock squeezed his knee, bringing him back to the present. “You okay? You’re not as talkative as usual.”

Neo rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting for you to bring out something better. It’s a national holiday, didn’t you know?”

“Oh? And what holiday would that be?”

“National Neo-Wants-The-Good-Shit Day. School gets cancelled, everyone gets the day off, it's a bigger deal than Christmas. Ask Daisy if you don’t believe me.”

The ghoul chuckled, a warm sound that left butterflies in his stomach. "If you say so, my man."

Hancock stood up and walked to his cupboard, fishing through its contents. Neo allowed himself to lay back on the couch, sinking into the soft material with a sigh.

Now, Neo was already quite high. His… tolerance was certainly lower than Hancock's, but that was to be expected. He heard the tell-tale rattle of a halfway-empty prescription bottle, and sure enough when he opened his eyes he saw the ghoul advance with a familiar orange bottle, though the color had definitely faded with time.

"It's called Daytripper. Been saving it for a rainy day, extra rare. Though, I suppose this constitutes a good enough reason, holiday that today is," Hancock winked, passing the bottle to Neo.

"Child safety lid and everything. No wonder you haven't had any yet." Neo playfully teased the mayor as he pressed down on the lid to open it.

The contents were a cheery yellow color, circular and chalky with cheesy smiley faces carved on each side. Definitely pre-war, definitely valuable.

"God, I'm gonna need something to wash this down with. You got a nuka-cola or something? How many do I take?"

Hancock shrugged as he grabbed a nearby bottle of cola, prying the cap off with the knife he kept strapped to his waist at all times. "I'd say just one until we know what exactly it does to ya, lightweight that you are."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Neo said, shaking one of the tablets into his hand. He threw it back, immediately chasing it with 200 year old flat soda.

They had no flavor, and he felt nothing. Neo shrugged. "Must have been a bust. Probably lost potency over the years."

–

"So a ghoul walks into a bar. The bartender says 'we don't serve ghouls here. Ghoul says-

"'Is the human fresh?' Yeah I know, you've told this joke before."

"Aw, c'mon brother. Just trying to lighten the mood a lil. Here, take another hit."

Neo does so gladly, watching the world dissolve into slow motion. This hit feels different from any others, and he lets himself break into a hazy smile.

"Fuck… that shiz… good…"

"You all good?"

Neo leans into his partner, rubbing his cheek on the faded red coat Hancock wore everywhere. The fabric is threadbare, but soft, and smells of gunpowder and sweat. Most of all, it feels safe, and he melts further onto the ghoul.

"Yurso… fuckin'… good to me…"

Hancock chuckles, and the sound reverberates in his chest. "Guess that daytripper wasn't a bust after all, huh, sunshine? How ya feelin'?"

"Mgh… warm n'... safe…"

"Safe, huh? Need anything?"

Neo shifts, rolling himself over so that he's sitting on Hancock's lap. His body is rapidly increasing in sensitivity, heat pooling and settling in his gut, face flushing with arousal. He nips at the other man's jaw, making small whining noises with his mouth.

He can feel the mayor's hardness through his pants, and Neo grinds on it, making them both moan.

"Jus… jus you…"

#SORR YIM SO LATE NONNY I COULSNT WRITE ANYMORE WITHOUT GETTING FLUSTERED #ozo mumbles #ship: feeling cocky #drabblecember #nsft #selfship nsft #anonymous #si: neo #ozo writes

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egg0nface · 9 months

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I have such mixed thoughts about being trans, like I’m so thankful for the people I’ve met and the things I’ve learned and who I’ve become because of finding out I was trans, but my life would of been a lot fucking easier if I wasn’t. Like simple things like going out in public, using bathrooms, seeing family, etc inspire fear in me. I don’t have the privilege to live life (I mean who really does here in America) but it’s like I never really got the chance to even try and that really hurts. Especially now in America when trans people are, for lack of a better word, a victim of genocide. I’m scared to go outside, let alone go to school, which most everyone already hates, but everything I do gets picked apart, and what I wear and how I act dictates if people will respect my very person. It’s terrifying yk? I have had threats to my life multiple times, you have to understand what that does to a person…

It gets even worse when you go into the directly political sphere, my very existence in the world is simply a question of tolerance to most people. I’m not doubting that being trans isn’t directly political, because everything we experience in our daily lives is as a result of politics, but I find it quite disconcerting that it’s so simple to reduce personhood to label words. We really need to learn, as a society, that people are greater than the sum of their parts. We are all people, we all experience struggle, and we are all united in our feeling of discontent. We are all oppressed but there is a special oppression within this world that comes from putting us against each other, it’s obvious where bigotry comes from, and yet people still fall for the same old “worries” they have for decades. Oppression comes from a lack of understanding and a willingness to blame other people for systemic issues. We have the power and ability to move past this but it’s impossible in a world that has to breed hostility for profit. Our conditions are unacceptable and instead of pointing our anger at the system, a lot of people end up blaming other groups.

I wrote a short essay about a year ago when I was hearing a lot about anti-trans legislation and I think it’s still significant now,

“People constantly preach acceptance and equality, but once things get hard it’s a different story. People will go from posting in support of us, to calling us pedophiles or believing we aren’t real in a matter of months. The same people who say they believe in free speech and talk of themselves as original free thinkers are the same ones silencing us, taking away our rights, and killing us. If that’s ‘freedom’ I don’t want it.

Trans people are the boogeyman of the day. You are allowed to say ‘the quiet part allowed’, in public. We are the group to attack. Any ‘free thinker’ would quickly find that we are NOT what conservatives fear-monger people with. Any ‘free thinker’ would not blindly follow the status quo. Any person ‘pro-freedom’ wouldn’t want or allow our rights to be stripped away. Any person ‘pro-freedom’ wouldn’t want us dead.

I hope people know (and I know for sure they do, it’s their goal) that with every anti-trans bill/law people will die. Wether it’s from back-alley surgeries and hormones, or suicide, people—including the ‘children’ these republican assholes say they are protecting—will die. Our lives will end without satisfaction, without a chance to be ourselves. Our lives will end and it will be the legislators fault, it will be the parents who witheld their child's freedom, it will be the news stations' fault, it will be all the religious pundits who advocate for our death's fault. They will be to blame. They are nothing less than murderers.

This is far from over. We are not the first, nor the last group to face this. As a society we are regressing (you'll never guess why /s). It's pretty obvious what's next but, to distract us from what's at play, there are manufactured culture wars to keep us occupied, so they can further their death toll. They say they want us gone, and they will follow through if they are allowed. They have the power and human life has never detered them before. I encourage you to critically think about what you choose to believe, and don't give in to the Fox News bastards' propagandistic knowledge."

I remember the fear and anger I felt when writing this. The state I’m in is definitely not the worst of the anti-trans legislation but it’s definitely not the best, and it’s not helpful that I don’t live in the most progressive of towns. This shit’s happening everywhere though and that’s probably the worst part. We are retrogressing rapidly and it’s not like it’s a new phenomena, this has been happening for many years.

Passing is a whole other issue. I don’t really feel a desire to be stealth in most circumstances because I feel like me being trans is a big part of my politics and politics is a massive part of who I am. I have a desire to be comfortable in my body but I don’t have a desire to fit into their arbitrary standards.

Ultimately, there’s no winning. Our ‘gender’ is imposed on us from birth and defying that standard isn’t acceptable to a lot of people. I mean at least the politicians have a reason to hate us, i mean it’s in their class interest, not to mention, it gives them something to be mad about.

#transmasc #transgender #ftm #I don’t really have another big important thing to write tbh like I usually try to do #this was mostly a rant piece bc I’m just really frustrated with things rn #I guess something else about being trans that I’m really passionate about is talking to other trans people #I really wish a lot of my trans friends would be more willing to talk about trans-ness with me #like especially the trans women I know I wish they would talk to me more about being trans because I don’t personally have that perspective #so I want to learn :D #I guess I just really love talking to other trans people because our different perspectives on being trans is so interesting and our #differences in experience is so mesmerizing #anyways if you actually read this really ramble-y bad put together essay then ilysm ty 😭😭#long story short ig being trans is very interesting

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