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#putting this shit where it needs to be seen
badjokesbyjeff · 1 day
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I never told my wife I had an ex-fiancee 
One thing I never told my wife is that I had a fiancee before her. It’s a long story, so buckle up.
It was the year after I graduated college. I was dating my girlfriend, Stephanie, for a couple years and things were getting serious. At the time, I had my roommate, Joey, but he was a Craigslist roommate. We didn’t know each other very well. If you asked me how I knew him aside from Craigslist, the answer is I didn’t. He wouldn’t even tell me where he grew up.
Now, no shit, on the day I was going to propose, tragedy struck. I adorned our apartment with candles and even set up a nice glass display with framed pictures of me and Steph on top. Before Steph came in, Joey walked in and tripped. He actually shattered the glass display and got some in his face. Steph came in a few minutes later as I was on the phone with 911. Fortunately, Steph is a nurse, so she was able to patch him up as the three of us went to the hospital together.
Joey would recover, but he had some issues with glass on his face. He needed some cotton gauze inside his eye, which fortunately the doctors were able to save.
Clearly, I put off my proposal for the time being, but Steph and I agreed to get married. Our engagement was hush hush. Steph’s hours were wonky so she took care of Joey when I wasn’t around. And I should’ve seen the red flags, but I ignored them. They’d hang out together with and without me. They’d be in Joey’s room and lock the door.
One day, I came home and all of Joey’s stuff was gone. He moved out. Steph wrote a note. The note said, “We fell in love and we’re leaving together. Don’t try to find us.”
I didn’t listen and I searched, but true to the note, I couldn’t find them. I’ll never know what happened.
Suffice to say,
if it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I’d have been married a long time ago.
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
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a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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Thinking about Actress!Reader who finally got to change into a pair of shorts and a crop top after being in a corset and long dresses all day after shooting was done for the day.
Actress!Reader who gets invited to go get Gelato with Peter to help cool off after being stuck in such stuffy clothes for the past six hours.
Bodyguard!Miguel who had to suppress a scowl when you told him that you were basically going on a date with your fellow actor. But that didn’t deter him from volunteering to watch over you both when you went to walk through the streets of Rome. He’d rather be the one watching over you than Peter’s bodyguard.
Actress!Reader and Actor!Peter who didn't notice when a group of passersby recognized them, snapping a few pictures of you both without your knowledge. You weren’t completely used to the whole “having photos taken of you without your permission or contact” but that was unfortunately a price to pay when you’re new and on the rise.
Actress!Reader who finally went home to relax, getting a good night's rest now that the jet lag has finally stopped.
Actress!Reader who wakes up the next morning with 24 missed calls, 35 new messages and her name trending on twitter.
Jake (Manager): (Y/N).
Jake(Manger): (Y/N), call me when you wake up.
Peter 🐝.: Did you look at Twitter yet?
Peter🐝.: Or like any social media yet?
Bestie💝: Girl…
Bestie💝: You’ve got some explaining to do.
“What’s… happening?” You mumbled as you scrolled through your new messages as you waddled into the kitchen of your hotel suite, where Miguel was already drinking his cup of coffee. Glancing up at him for a moment as he greeted you.
“Morning.” He mumbled as he placed his mug down. “Your manager told me to have you call him when you're up.”
“Do you know why?” You asked him as you scrolled to Jake’s contact info, receiving a grunt in response, a no.
“(Y/N) (L/N), would you like to explain what went on yesterday after you finished up on set?” You felt like you were five years old and being scolded by your mom all over again, except you genuinely didn’t know what you did.
“Um, I went to go get a snack with Peter. Why-“
“A snack.” He repeated, his tone questioning despite it being deadpan.
“Yes, a snack.” You huffed, your confusion turning into irritation as your brows furrowed together. “Why? can't I have a snack after work with my coworker?”
“You can have a snack after work, but from what I’m looking at here it doesn’t seem like it’s with a coworker.” His words make you pause.
“What?” All attitude now gone, confusion settles back in. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t seen the pictures yet?”
“What pictures?”
“Oh dear God…” Jake mumbled under his breath, before letting out a sigh. “Go on twitter, and check the trending tab.”
You put him on speaker and did what you were told, waiting for the little bird app to load, before clicking on the explore tab. Eyes widening as you read out the headline at top.
“Peter B. Parker and (Y/N), coworkers on a new upcoming movie, spotted out on date?!?”
Miguel almost started to choke on his coffee after he heard you recite the words, having to hit his chest to clear his windpipes as you frantically started to scroll through the tag.
“No, no it wasn’t a date though Jake, it wasn’t-“ Your words died on your tongue as your finger stopped scrolling once you hit a particular picture.
A picture of Peter making you try his flavor, by spoon feeding you.
Fuck how can I be so dumb? How could I forget that happened? It was only 2 seconds Max. And now it’s trending.
“I need you down at set an hour early. We have some things to discuss with Peter and his team.” Jake sighed before you heard the dial tone of him hanging up the call.
Shit.
Part 4<
Not proofread.
Word count: 600
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st
@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout
@laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer
@migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart
@stressed-cherry @haveclayeveryday @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz
@enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 @huniedeux
@bluesidez @nommingonfood @chrishy973 @m4dyy @night-spectrum
@electricgg (to be added click here)
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ellieslaces · 3 days
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KISSING LESSONS.
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featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader
synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)
notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.
word count: 3.13k
chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)
now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus
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Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.
It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.
It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.
PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.
It had been about two weeks into the girls�� club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.
Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.
You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.
You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.
Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.
You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.
As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.
“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.
Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.
You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.
“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.
Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.
“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.
Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.
“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.
“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.
“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.
Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.
Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.
You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?
Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.
A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.
She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”
Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.
“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.
“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.
“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.
“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.
Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.
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The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.
So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.
It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.
To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.
It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.
“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”
Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.
Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.
It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.
“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.
“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.
It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”
Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.
“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?
“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.
“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.
You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.
Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.
“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.
“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.
A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.
“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”
“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.
The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.
So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.
This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.
“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.
It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.
“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.
“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.
You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.
Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”
You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”
“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.
You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.
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Hiya!
Love your works, 5 Stars!
Anyway I noticed you did a few Retro!Readers where they are in a Poly with both Vox and Valentino. I loved reading how protective Vox is to the point he'd rather Retro forget seeing him kill for them.
So my ask is in the Poly situation, what happens when Valentino is caught murdering someone who flirted with Retro by Retro? Unlike Vox he can't make Retro forget after all.
If you don't wanna do anything along those lines could you maybe do something else with the three of them, like Vox having to pick Retro up from the Porn Studio. (retro would be taking Val's backup glasses then get mad at what they see i bet)
Thanks!
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“Don’t you dare insult mi pequeño querida ever again,” Valentino growled, looming over one of his workers. They were bloodied and bruised, beaten up, what little clothes they had been wearing were torn and frayed. “First you try to fuck them, then you’re making fun of their beautiful little ears? Asqueroso.”
I knocked hesitantly on the room he was in. “Valentino?” I asked, opening the door slightly. “Someone said you’d be in here, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just-”
He didn’t notice me. “Keep your desperate hands to yourself, bitch,” Valentino said to the worker, raising his hand to strike them again. “Or I’ll-”
“Val?” I asked, now standing in the middle of the doorway, the door ajar, light from the hallway spilling in. “What are you…?”
“Oh! Oh shit,” he said, snapping his attention towards me. “Fuck! You weren’t meant to- fuck, just look away for a moment, mi cariño.” He walked over and spun me around so I’d be facing away from the sight before me.
“Val! Hey, what are you doing?” I protested, trying to look back at the terrified worker. “Are they okay? Do they need help?”
“No! No, I was just teaching them a little lesson was all,” he said quickly, trying to steer me away from the room. “Clean yourself up,” he hissed to the worker, walking me out the door with me in tow. “Fuck. It’s normal, okay? They just needed to be put in their place. God, you weren’t- you weren’t supposed to see that.” He muttered under his breath, covering my eyes as he brought me to his office. “Vox was right, I shouldn’t have brought you here…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said quietly, nervously. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” I was still trying to process what I’d just seen. All I could register was that someone was hurt, he was worried, and that I wasn’t supposed to be there.
“No it’s not, mi amorosa,” he said quietly. He sat me down and paced nervously around the room. He picked up the phone several times, before setting it down. “Fuck.”
“Val, seriously,” I said softly. I stood up and took his hand in mine. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful… I don’t- I don’t know what you were-”
“That’s it!” Val said, snapping his fingers. He seemed to relax. He kept his hand in mine and brought me to his desk. “It’ll be okay, my love, I promise.”
“Promise? Promise what?” I asked, confused. He set me in his lap and held me carefully, gently. I watched as he took out a cigarette and I sighed, thinking he was just going to stress smoke again. “Val, you know I don’t have… I’ve not built up a tolerance to it like Vox or Vel, I’ll need to leave if you start.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said with a smile, lighting it up. “Trust me, darling.”
“But-” my protest was cut off as he kissed me. I relented and kissed him back. When he pulled away, I felt so much more… relaxed. “Hm…?”
“That’s right, just relax,” he purred. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly in my face. I couldn’t help but breathe it in. Sickly sweet, like honey, utterly overwhelming.
“Mm..” I mumbled, my body relaxing completely. My mind was all hazy, I couldn’t think straight. It felt so nice, so good. I found myself leaning closer to him, wanting to get as much as possible every time he blew another cloud of smoke towards me. He held me tightly, firmly, so I wouldn’t fall. “I love you…”
He chuckled as I buried my head against his chest, wanting to be near him more than usual. “I love you too,” he said, petting my head gently. All the worry and confusion I’d been feeling seemed to melt away, and as the smoke kept coming, I couldn’t help but begin to feel tired. It felt so nice, so comfortable. So good to be near him, breathing it in.
As my eyes fell shut, Val smiled, excited. It had worked! I was fast asleep against him, drugged out of my mind. I wouldn’t remember a thing. He was so goddamn proud of himself. He scooped me up, whispering sweet nothings in my ear as he carried me outside.
Vox pulled up outside the porn studio to see Valentino holding me. I was limp in his arms like a ragdoll. Vox opened the door and stepped out, slamming the car door shut behind him as he approached. “What the fuck did you do?” He asked Val, his anger evident as he reached for me.
“Relax, I just used my smoke,” Val replied, rolling his eyes. He gave me to Vox, if not reluctantly. “I know you said not to use it, but-”
“Your smoke?” Vox asked, horrified. “Oh my god, they’re out cold! Fuck! How much did you- oh my god are they dead?”
“No! No, fuck- Christ, calm the fuck down, mi cariño,” Valentino said, now a tad annoyed. “They’re a sea bunny demon, they’ll be fine. Any harmful side effects or toxins or whatever are just stored in their system for later use. All my smoke did was make them nice and relaxed.”
“What?” Vox asked. He paused, looking down at me. He thought for a moment. “And you’re sure? They aren’t hurt or anything?”
“Not at all,” Val said with a grin, looking pleased with himself. “Though, I’d appreciate some back up next time. I’ll need you on speed dial if they catch me again. I hate doing this to them…”
“I know,” Vox said with a nod. He opened the car door for the passenger seat and motioned for Val to get in. He did, and Vox set me down next to him, buckling me in. Val made me lean against him, as if I was just sleeping comfortably. “I’ll be there next time.”
“The look on their face…” Val said, sounding guilty as he looked away. He seemed uncomfortable with what he’d done, with how vulnerable he’d made me so easily. “God…”
“I know, Val,” he said softly. He gave him a small kiss, then got in the drivers seat. He sighed and started the car. “I know.”
(Val was going to kill the worker, he was just taking it slow. Now Vox will get dibs on them, since he’s the one who owns Retros soul. He’ll argue that Val already had his chance and fucked it up, so it’s only reasonable that Vox gets a try. Also! Retro can get endlessly drunk but it’ll never have a negative or lasting impact on their health and liver and whatnot. At least that’s how I imagine it.)
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rebelliousstories · 2 days
Text
Ten Thousand Candles
Kiss Me You Animal
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Killing
Word Count: 711
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
//Chapter Two//
Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist: Here
Summary: Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.
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Have you ever seen someone who just looks like if you say the wrong thing, no matter how small, they would hurt you and everyone in the immediate vicinity? That was Cooper Howard right now. He was tearing through the town faster than a bat out of hell, trailing after a girl. Why was he following this girl? Because just a few minutes ago they met, as she stole his bounty that she was now cashing in on.
Walking into town, he just caught the trail of the unearthly colored hair disappearing into the shop where the bounty originated. He gritted his teeth, and waited outside until she was to return. Cooper found a rocking chair, and waited. He was a patient man, and that was being put to the test as he sat there. Most people passed by him without so much as a glance, but others took one look at him and scurried away. It did not much matter to him anymore. He had two hundred years to come to terms with his new state.
Seeing her white hair come through the door, he took note and noticed her shoving something in her bag. He stood up slowly, marching his way up to her while she was distracted.
“Well, gotta say, sure as shit been a long time since someone stole my bounty from right under me.” Howard drawled, almost jovial in his speech. The woman’s head whipped up to see The Ghoul in front of her once more.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so slow then, Ghoulie.” She teased, finding joy in annoying him.
“I wasn’t slow,” he growled, “you were just a sneaky little minx who can’t keep her sticky fingers away from what’s not hers.” Cooper stepped closer to the woman, assessing whether or not he needed to draw his gun. But she just laughed.
“That ain’t how I remember it.” The still unknown woman got even closer to Cooper, and toyed with the edge of his jacket. He snatched it away, and stepped away with a flourish.
“Now, only time Imma tell you. Give me the caps that you got paid for my bounty, and we’ll be on our way.” His hand rested on his pistol while the other was outstretched.
“And if I don’t give you my caps for my bounty?” She replied, brushing a hand through her hair nonchalantly.
“I’d hate to kill someone as pretty as you now darlin’.” Cooper smiled, and hoped she would do the right thing. As she stood there, contemplating, The Ghoul was steadily losing his patience. She came closer and closer to his outstretched gloved hand, until it was resting right against her stomach. Sifting through her bag, she placed a singular bottle cap in his hand and closed his fingers around it.
“For you troubles. Name’s Zylia, by the way. Next time don’t be so slow.” The now named woman patted Cooper on the shoulder, and began to walk away from him. However, he had different plans. Howard stood there with the cap in his hand, and a million thoughts running through his head. Pocketing the cap, he turned to where Zylia was walking away.
“Do you have a death wish?” He called, making her stop for a brief moment. Even from all this distance, the pink eyes she held pierced his very soul.
“Maybe. What’s it to you?” Zylia responded, toying with a strand of hair.
“Do you know who I am?” Cooper questioned again, fully turning his body to face her.
“No. Should I?” Once more, his patience was being tested. Cooper moved his duster out of the way and rested a hand on his pistol that was still holstered.
“Little girl, I’m really not in the mood for this. Give me the caps.” He repeated, fully ready for a shoot out.
“Little girl? Well, I might be little, but not young enough to be a girl. I’m just gonna be on my way if that’s alright with you, Ghoul.” Again, Zylia turned around and began to walk away from the man. He chuckled softly, before drawing his pistol and aiming it at the girl.
It all happened in a flash, but the sound was one that was an everyday occurrence in the Wastelands.
Bang!
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quitealotofsodapop · 7 hours
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So if Wukong didn't know MK was playing superhero, why was he able to be caught by Spider Queen? The answer is clear. He took the younger cubs down to see the parade. That way, he could be closer to the fireworks, and his kids are entertained. He ended up being caught up in the initial attack and discovered MK playing hero while trying to evacuate the cubs away from the angry spider lady trying to turn people into spider zombies.
Wukong is not happy, but at this point there are far more important things to deal with. He orders MK to get his siblings somewhere safe while he handles Spider Queen. When MK protests, he tells him that MK's arachnophobia would only get in the way, and he is still Sun Wukong, the gods be damned Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the Monkey King. He isn't so far into his retirement that he can't put an upstart little princess in her place.
The plan backfires and Wukong gets captured by LBD and Spider Queen, of course, but hey, the Noodle Crew gets to meet MK's siblings! Sandy babysits them while they're in Heaven trying to get the stuff. All they know of it is that MK's mom was caught by the Spider Queen, they don't know yet exactly who his parent is. Not until much later when Wukong and DBK break out of their bonds and save them.
"Holy shit, is that Sun Wukong!?" ;Probably Tang
"Mom!" :MK
"MOM!?" :Literally eveyone
After all is said and dine Wukong makes good on his promise of a long talk, or rather lecture, and MK is grounded.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO RECKLESS! Xiaotian, your father an I taught you better than this! What were you thinking!?"
"But when you were my age you were at war with Heaven, though!"
"And look what that got me! Thrown in a furnace and pinned under a mountain for 500 years! What you did was stupid and reckless. What if you'd gotten hurt!? Your still mortal, MK!"
Referencing.
Yesss. Wukong canonically adores New Years, and I def agree that love extends to the cubs too.
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Wukong does a "surprise" visit to Megapolis to show the younger cubs the New Years Parade + check up on his eldest while MK is helping Pigsy with the foodtruck. Likely all in glamours, but MK 100% gets an embarassing visit from his mom at work. The Noodle shop gang tease him endlessly about it.
Then cue the Spider Queen's invasion, and Wukong giving MK the cubs to watch for the moment while he Kings Up. MK doesn't want his mom to go in his condition, but Wukong is still The Monkey King, and has no idea that his son has been superhero-ing for the past couple of months.
The gang all meet up on Sandy's airship, and the kiddos glamours all drop from stress. This is where the gang confirms (they had suspiscions) that MK is a disguised demon - they dont mind since thats sadly common in human-dominated cities. MK specifically being a monkey demon gets Tang asking questions though.
Red Son shows up and has a brain-fart mid-plan when he recognises who "Noodle Boy" actually is;
Red Son: "Xiaotian!? I haven't seen you since we were calves! This explains so much!"
MK, nervous sweating: "Not now dude! My mom got captured by the Spider Queen, and my dad is MIA right now."
Red Son: "Ah but of course. Seems we have the same predicament then. No fear, I have a plan to defeat the Spider Queen and save our respective parents."
Tang, panic-nerding: "MK, how do you know Red Son!?"
MK, flash of SWK-esque anger: "NOT NOW."
The gang get to the Celestial Realm and retrieve what they need to make the antidote - though not without attracting the attention of a certain hound that just realised her fave monkey is here.
MK, petting the dog: "I'm sorry Quan. I can't play right now! I'm saving the city."
Xiaotian Quan: (*sad whine!*)
Meanwhile at the Spider Mech; DBK has finally met his little brother/enemy once again. DBK in his anger, yells about Sun Wukong's "little-thief successor MK" ruining so many of his family's attempts at gaining power, and Wukong just blanks;
Wukong, scary parent voice: "Xiaotian has been doing what!?"
DBK: "The Little Thief is Xiaotian!?"
DBK would also shout at Wukong for putting himself in danger in his condition, but quiets when he learns that Macaque is missing. Tieshan had seemed worried since DBK got back (infact, maybe its why she decided to free him), and everyone knows that the shadow monkey wouldn't leave his mate without reason. When LBD arrives, DBK and Wukong immediate get a chill up their spines. They both know that she's somehow involved with Mac's disappearance... DBK has his super-saiyan moment of worried-anger and frees both himself and his xiandi so that they can find their reckless kids.
The Noodle Shop gang (+ Red Son and the cubs) bust on through with the spider-venom antidote and manage to subdue the Spider Queen with their combined forces.
Tang is about to fanboy at the sight of Sun Wukong in the flesh when MK and the cubs yell something that shatters his preconceptions.
MK & the cubs: "Mom!" "Mama!"
Noodle Shop Gang: "MOM?!?"
Wukong, swarmed by baby monkeys: "Thank Nuwa you're all ok!" (*hugs them all tight*)
Wukong: (*suddenly bonks MK on head with a sandal*)
Wukong: "And you! How dare you not tell me that you've been fighting demons this whole time! You told me you were only getting a job for mortal experience!"
MK: "But mom! I did get a job! I've been using my spare time trying to figure out what happened to dad!"
Wukong: "Which I specifically told you Not to do!! Your father has gotten himself tangled up with a very dangerous witch and I'm not letting you run into one of her traps!"
Noddle Shop Gang + DB fam: (*standing at a safe distance from the yelling*)
Tang, dizzy with excitement: "Anyone else feel like they're in a fantasy right now?"
Mei: "Hm, not really. I knew Xiaotian since we were pups. My grunkle Ao Lie is the same dragon-horse from the stories."
Tang: "Excuse me!?"
Erlang shows up on Earth asking Wukong tf just happened - his third eye showed him the chaos in the Celestial Realm and Lao Tzu is pissed for his missing pills and Furnace. But he immediately leaves when he sees tje carnage of a saved mortal city + Sun Wukong. (Erlang: "Ah. Say no more.")
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drbased · 2 days
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Does it ever make you ever feel depressed that men have more variation in IQ? That means even though there will always be more male idiots, there will also be more male geniuses. So women can excel in any field, but a man will almost always be the "best" in it. It just makes me feel inferior every time I think about it, way more than strength difference does. Not only that, but they also have higher variation in all types of brain structure. That would mean men are naturally more diverse, personality-wise.
Sometimes I get into these negative thought processes about stupid shit and it totally consumes me. This is my latest one... Please help
Hmm.
Well firstly, IQ is a completely fake concept designed specifically for eugenicist purposes. You can train for an IQ test, your score can change depending on the day, and your score doesn’t mean anything apart from how good you are at IQ tests. It’s not a measure of intelligence, and ‘intelligence’ isn’t real anyway - as in, there is no such quality of uniform intelligence. I think it stands to reason that the highest IQ scores will be from men, because the tests are constructed around a fundamentally male world-view and value system as well as a white one. And that is what depresses me more - that ‘intelligence’ is viewed as some innate quality that only oppressors can possess so they can prove that they deserve their place in a meritocracy. It’s like that controversy about men winning more at Jeopardy than women - the world is structured around male interests and values, so men achieve in mainstream contests and use that to retroactively justify the legitimacy of those values and interests in the culture.
I’m less interested in the concept of a man beating a woman at certain activities because of him being smarter than her, than I am about him beating her because he's socialised from a young age into enjoying and valuing those activities - but also often regardless of his actual performance, he's also by default assumed to be better and more competent than her purely because he's a man. Take for example that study where when they did blind auditions for orchestras, men still got in more than women, but when they put carpeting down so women's heels couldn't be heard, there was finally a more equal ratio of women getting in. Or those studies where identical CVs given out and names that are typical of women, black people etc. get seen as less competent than those with male and white names.
We don't live in a world where we can objectively measure men's 'natural' abilities at anything psychological. But we do live in a world where we know that women's skills are massively undervalued - women have all sorts of intelligences that make the world run round; we're excellent negotiators, we're less violent, we're great at remembering, we have greater compassion, we make good leaders, we are more responsible, we have greater tact, we are safer in the workplace, we're more conscious of social issues and the environment, etc. etc. And none of what we have is seen as 'intelligence'; in fact, quite the opposite - many of our intelligences are dismissed outright as sentimentality and pearl-clutching.
Once again, though, I don't believe these traits are uniform across all women, or that they're 'natural' to us, just as men's traits aren't 'natural' to them. In the nature-nurture debate, there are too many factors in nurture that can't be realistically measured - and I have a suspicion that for many, feminists included, simply saying that men and women naturally possess certain traits is an easier narrative to swallow, because for many women the fear exists that if men can be socialised to be better, then dismissing them as evil would be morally wrong. But I don't think people need to be intrinsically, ontologically evil for us to dismiss them as oppressors - I simply judge by behaviour, which is more measurable.
Going back to intelligence, I think it's also worth saying here that women are socialised into not recognised or appreciating our skills, and to partake in behaviours that psychologically hobble us. Take for example in that orchestra study - under a feminist lens, wearing heels is a form of hobbling that's both literal and psychological. The woman is performing a feminine ritual, wearing a physically debilitating item that submissively marks her as a woman. Not to say that she would be respected more if she was gnc, but I find it interesting how women accidentally lost their spot on the orchestra in the study because their performative clothing made them noisier and easier to recognise as women. And on top of that, we have stereotype threat - there was a study done where men and women were performing some sort of test, and in one half they were in normal clothes, and the second they were in swimwear. In the second one, women performed more poorly than they did in the first, and men saw no change. Once again, we have two inexorably interlinked factors at play, here - women's swimwear is not built for utility but rather to be sexy, and women's bodies are considered inherently sexual; that's not to say that if women were wearing men's swimwear they'd do better at the test, but rather women are socialised to be self-conscious of themselves but also expected to show more skin - we're expected to dumb ourselves down in the name of being sexy.
The upside in all of this is that the moment you recognise that these things aren't set in stone, and rather that these are all skills you can develop if you gain confidence in yourself, you develop a robust sense of self that you can be comfortable and happy with regardless of external measure of male-approved success. I, for example, found confidence in myself and my writing, and now I'm finding success and getting praise online by women on tumblr. It seems you're best finding yourself environments surrounded by other women, especially feminist-minded women who are consciously choosing to fight against established biases by valuing the skills of women that are undervalued by society. Devaluing male interests and achievements in your own head is something you can also do, and I once again recommend feminist spaces as an excellent opportunity to de-program (obligatory plug for my side blog @learningwomanhood where I do exactly that).
For me, the biggest wisdom to be gained from feminism is the psychological distancing yourself from male thought - the more things you reject that you once unthinkingly believed to be normal, the more you feel that you can truly be human, vibrant, unconstrained; and the more silly the whole enterprise of patriarchy looks. It's not nice that rejecting patriarchy means rejecting mainstream society, but the older you get the more you realise that you simply can't dwell on these things and instead have to do what benefits you within it; nobody is owed a perfect existence, and once you realise that you have to choose a life for yourself and choose to be happy with that, your life will be much more comfortable. In the end, life is all about the gestures of love you make to yourself and others. When you realise that it's your job to be your own best friend, you can carry that energy with you your whole life; you will be inpenetrable because all that matters to you, no matter what situation you're going through or what hell you're in, is that you made decisions that showed love to yourself. That could be considered a form of intelligence - perhaps wisdom itself is a form of intelligence that is devalued specifically because it's female-coded. But wisdom sounds like nothing until you internalise it - all the language in the world can't seem to really get to its essence until something inside you clicks and you understand it.
One thing I would like to say is that those negative thought processes you have are not stupid: they are a valuable part of your processing of the world and are worth attention. We have this cultural idea that with regards to mental health, the parts of us that are 'real' and 'valid' and 'truly us' are all the good parts, and the negative thought processes and patterns of behaviour are like cancerous tumours that need to be artifically removed. One of the best things I ever did for myself is to take myself seriously - because that's my prerogative, as myself and my own best friend. The only thing 'bad' thing about those thought processes is that they cause you distress; that's it. So, then, it's up to you to decide how much you want to indulge in them. I find the best way to really tackle unpleasant behavioural patterns is to simply do them shamelessly, because clearly a part of you wants to do them anyway; one of the first ways I got out of my depressive spirals was to decide that I was going to do all the depressive actions (stay in bed, eat junk food etc.) but simply embrace that those are things I want to do and not feel guilty or sad about it. That way, the depression hasn't consumed me and instead I have made a choice - I have reformed my relationship with myself as an active agent and a made a choice to show love for myself through the gesture of taking my desires seriously, not dismissing them as 'mentally ill'. I could go on but the point is that all of your head is necessarily you - as in, it doesn't come from anywhere else but you, and therefore all of it should be respected and valued. Mainstream society won't tell you that - there's always supposed to be a limit, there's always something that's 'unhealthy' in some sort of metaphysical sense, there's always a part of you that's supposed to be beholden to some external standard, that keeps you feeling insecure and needing validation. But there is no true objective measure of a healthy mind; the only thing that matters is if you're comfortable with yourself, and you can always make gestures of love to yourself regardless of your situation.
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mrswint3rs · 7 hours
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˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 .ᐟ
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✧ hihii! being a copy cat and doing a mutual appreciation post. ✧
- lmk if you would like for your tag to be removed -
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @flkwh0re - my bsf. i love you fr. IDEK WHERE TO START UGH. tysm for putting up with me throughout all my rough patches and stupidity :3 someday i’ll get into marvel and stuff for you i swear. since i forced you into resident evil… even without knowing marvel lore, your writing is chefs kiss !! yumyum
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @argreion - actually one of the sweetest people i’ve ever met omg. honored to be able to call you my friend :3 you get me fr thank you for all that you do!! especially with supporting me n stuff when i’m feeling like shit. and you’ve helped sm with my fear of interacting with people on tumblr… AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND ART SM TOO. absolutely scrumptious!! you’re too hard on yourself >:(
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @whiskers-my-beloved / @tigardf - one of the first people to like. actually interact with me on here. making that art inspired by my silly wesker fic… actually meant the world to me (still does obvi but) made me feel important :3 AND you’re super super sweet n cool. i love talking to you ^.^ also love your comic pages and your ideas smmm!!
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ - @dollfacefantasy - honestly was so giddy the day you followed me back ‘cause you’re one of my favorite writers. need you to teach me your ways seriously omg. idk you very well but!! you genuinely seem super cool (fight club header alone proves that)
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @sqiim - fellow pack leader!! seriously tho, love your vibe AND WRITING. think about that ethan fic literally every second of every day atp… obsessed with all of your writing though. you seem super silly nd cool :3 would love to interact with you more!! & ur one of my main inspirations with dc (but i told you that before i think)
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @d10nyx - also super silly ily :3 love all of your writing as well AND BOTS. blaming you for my dad toji addiction seriously. AND YOUR ART TOO. too many talents lad… also also thanks for helping me make my secret identity that lasted like. 3 weeks.. led me to being more comfy with dc on main and other ppl!!
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @rigorwhoring - insanely sweet omg. i get super nervous about dming people but you’re rlly easy to talk to! your writing is also insanely good it seriously baffles me. you eat every single time…
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @the-bar-sinister - tysm for all of y’all’s posts about profiction stuff. makes me feel better about writing darker themes and made me open my eyes about a lot of different things. also 90% of yalls reblogs are always real asf and i’m being slowly pulled back into my ace attorney era… AND ty for educating me on whump / whumpee ! and self shipping and all that :3
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @pupcuck - feels illegal to be mutuals with you bc you’re like. an icon idk. your writing is next level. your metaphors and stuff… shocks me to my core every-time i start reading one of your works. uhh never was into inc*st fics rlly until i came across your blog and i was like. whoa. brainrot!! all started with that gilf leon fic i think… also never had seen ddlg in writing before you so ty for that. i have been into darker themes in fiction and whatnot but you brought the demons out of me fr. ALSO you seem super super sweet. AND YOUR CAT IS SO ADORABLE OMFG.
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @missoranjespersonal - also feels illegal to be mutuals with you because your writing is next level. i absolutely adore your chris content. HEART SHAPED PANCAKES MADE ME CRY it was so ughhgggga. but love the way your mind works seriously your ideas are so amazing and i would love to talk to you more :3
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @ch-4-eri - THE jill valentine writer!! so glad i came across that fic you’re seriously so cool :3 if you ever write for lara croft i will pass away on the spot… would love to interact with you more bc you’re so insanely real !
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @xoxostarlet - love youu and your blog theme and nav stuff it’s so perty :3 love your writing style as wellll step uncle leon save me… and knight carlos was the cutest shit ever! all of your writing is but i dont wanna yap too much about each fic T-T ALSO sorry about your divorce 😖
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @admirxation - I FEEL LIKE WE DONT INTERACT ENOUGH AGGH :(( would love to yap about jojo’s with you :3 but seriously love your writing (blessed everyone with that krauser fic esp!!) AND OTHER WORKS OFC BUT. can’t stop thinking about that fic im sorry..
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @angelofwoe - i’ll admit i was very scared to interact with you for the longest time 😭 i loveee the way you write leon.. as a switch, it’s nice seeing some sub leon content for a change!! also not into the whole cannibalism thing but you wrote that so beautifully. and tyty for participating in ask games ^.^
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @getonite - Sebastian michaelis’ canon lover !! i need to catch up with reading your writing omfggg but your blog theme always eats… and directory/nav set up is so cool as well.. need to interact with you more because you seem really cool
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @sassuguru - also super cool blog setup.. i need to learn how to do cards and stuff 😓 loveee your writing like. i despise mori with every fibre of my being but that fic was so yummmm!
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @tipsyleaf - loveee your bots and stuff and how you interact with all of your anons and stuff!! super cute blog layout also. need to interact with you more <3
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @chetchad - never encountered a brad enjoyer before so that’s a nice change :3 looking forward to your works !! you seem very sweet !
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @sirenscriptures - new mutual!! but that heisenberg fic AUGGGGG absolutely ate down. loved it and am hype for whatever you write next!!
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @bonnibuckets - love when you come into my ask box :3 ALSO krauser coming soon…? i will go feral! also also need to catch up on reading all of your works omfg😓 and congrats on 1k!! deserved :3
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @wolfieisacat - also one of the first people to interact with me on here!! super cool and would like to interact moreee (so sorry im terrible at maintaining conversation)
˗ˏˋ 💋 ˎˊ˗ @localkiss - adore your writing <3 heavenly sin was so so good .. ALSO need to interact with you more (ive said this about too many ppl on this list oml but!) so sorry
- more to be added!! promise I didn’t forget you, just trying to do people i’ve interacted with more than once 😭 so plzplz don’t feel left out!! ily all -
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prettymeoww · 2 days
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They say that a quiet, measured life is boring beyond belief, stability sooner or later always bores you and you deliberately look for something that will excite you to the very bones, shake your consciousness to bright flashes, something new and unbelievable... They say that it's impossible to live without a person who fits into your limits and a little beyond them.
Will says the author of these speeches is a complete asshole.
Will has been searching for so many years for just this life, smooth and enveloping, but all he finds are the mind-squirming events and days that have no count and only an endless string of thoughts.
“When will it all end?”
“Is this what life is supposed to be like?”
He can't remember the last time he slept. Not falling into a dark something along with alcohol, not looking indifferently and simultaneously with horror straight into his hidden fears, but sleeping. Sometimes when you wake up, it's hard to distinguish whether you were in a dream, or catching delusions in reality, still hugging a half-empty bottle of whiskey, which only makes it constantly worse.
Even trying to keep the last bits of living feelings alive by genuinely caring and giving the only possible love to his many dogs draws too much energy. Where does a man come from that doesn't know why he lives? Who longs to find the damn thread that will help him cling and hang on, even if it's on his last breath, but which will help him feel really real and not an “empty” piece of meat.
Graham never knew that, and he doesn't know it after Lecter shows up in his life.
The most ambiguous character in the gray life, as if you look at him and can not understand what feelings you have: interest, dislike or something mixed of all at once?
He brazenly invaded Will's little world, imposed his own order, which could not be called such (but more chaos) and took Graham completely in his power. Dependence on someone... a depressing situation, but the profiler realized it too late, only at the moment when he was too close to his new “friend”.
So much so that he was touching himself too often, and Will could practically feel the damn smirk on his lips. It was as if Hannibal was slowly accustoming his patient to constant contact, and not just with their souls.
What did he need? What could Graham give to a wealthy manipulator who craved control over his entire environment and more?
One day, even Lecter himself couldn't answer that question.
He just wanted to own him. So much so that he put his life on the line.
So much so that he literally put it in Will's hands and told him to do whatever he wanted.
But by this point, the detective had been through too much shit at the hands of the same 'friend', and such 'self-sacrifice' was seen as mock redemption. He'd waited too long for Lecter to accept such a gift. He was tired of waiting for him to hope for a quiet life. It was foolish to believe that he could give it....
Because Will is the most coveted fruit of existence in Lecter's life, in which there can be no safe harbor. Always standing on the edge of the abyss, they will stare into the depths of each other's eyes and think of how they can never unlock their hands again.
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sin-esthezia · 8 months
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just in case you need to hear it!
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bugslap · 2 years
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The Humming Gunslinger, Brook — the West's most notorious bank robber with a trick up his sleeve if you try to disarm him
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munadrawson · 8 months
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Art WIP: 09/06/23
Usually, I don't post WIPs here, but due to personal life events and depression, it ate most of August. I want to let ya'll know I'm still working on the end of a summer frye/shiver illustrations.
I know I am a slug, but I am a perfectionist like a certain shark tamer.
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(Even though I just caught some of the illustrations riddled with mistakes... "OTL)
Anyway, I'll add another page to the already 5 pages, and of course, there will be a bonus section. Again, this will be a sweet sappy sapphic story with a little dash of spice. Frye adding in the sizzle-ness. That garam masala, which Shiver always craves.
I shall not WALK OUT this time. That was a pretty good pun!
Here are some of the progress I've made so far:
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Would you believe this all started with me wanting to draw Frye in that damn sunhat?
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rowanthestrange · 5 months
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(Personal ‘Being A Certain Kind Of Autistic’ Moment:)
(You ever think you’re too hinged? I was gonna say for the internet but since covid so many of the neurotypicals in real life are actually worse.
Like someone has an inappropriately strong emotional reaction to the benign, and you’re like ‘okay they’re triggered, walk away with no eye contact’. Then you see other people doing it. And more and more. Not about the same things, different things, random things. And you’re just… Is it me? Am I too hinged?
I’m not saying I’m never triggered but I always tell myself ‘hey before you interact with anyone, stop being such a freak’ if I feel like I’m in danger of being rude to or about a Human Person. And I know that’s autism training, learning to catch yourself; but also clearly not everyone bothers, even the neurotypicals anymore hence irl situations where you’re just watching some 55 year old woman go off on a receptionist over literally nothing.
Like you’ll watch people stew themselves to a rolling boil over things they’ve…made up in their head? When they could just…not do that? Or could assume the best? Like they pre-order rage for things that haven’t even happened yet. Not like political things where you could argue that it could incentivise action but like raging about how film/book in a series/event is going to be so terrible, beyond simple mental prepping for disappointment.
It’s like I feel too mentally healthy compared to everyone else. But even plenty of irl people I know who absolutely wouldn’t consider themselves (or be considered by me as) mentally unwell in any regard are like this.
I know me having the flavour of autism where ‘everything has to have a reason, but when you understand what it is you don’t feel the need to be upset about it anymore’ kind of makes this worse. Because that’s not how real people feel things. But I dunno. Feels like it’s getting…more, doesn’t it? I mean it is, must be, had a Doctor Who episode kind of about it a week ago. But it’s got me feeling autistic alien again. Even on the autism site.)
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flufflecat · 4 months
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anyone else finding it really, really personally nauseating that the pjo show would remove gabes entire character and replace him with someone less abusive to make sally a Strong Female Character. like wow, im sure glad that youve proven that women who are abused are the REAL threat to feminism, and they should just try talking back more!! what a good message to send to abused kids. sorry, kid. i guess you just didnt argue hard enough and #Own your abuser into seeing how cool and strong you are. what do you mean that arguing with an abuser will only make them hurt you more? but look how snappy and cool and feminist sally is now!!! youre clearly just being abused wrong.
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sorrowandpride · 1 year
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I'll start this off by saying that I'm a woman who's studied ballet for pretty much her entire life. When I was a child, I had teachers who wanted to train me professionally with the goal of training at Canada's National Ballet School in mind, so I think I know what I'm talking about.
I recently learned about the Sophie Rebecca controversy, and it's absolutely disgusting. The transphobes who are screeching and clutching their pearls over Sophie taking syllabus classes with the RAD are absolutely ridiculous. They're the only ones who are embarrassing themselves by speaking on something they know nothing about (from what I've read, they can't even spell "pointe" properly).
I'll clear a few things up regarding ballet that transphobes are consistently getting wrong.
Ballet is not a single-sex space, so stop clutching your pearls. It may be XX female-dominated, but danseurs have been integral to the discipline since its creation. Believe it or not, danseurs can and do teach female students (and vice versa). Members of the male sex have even danced female roles (Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, for example, is an all-male drag troupe that performs parodies of romantic and classical ballets).
Sophie is taking RAD syllabus classes. These are simply classes that build skill in ballet (as well as other forms of dance, such as character). While syllabus classes and exams are part of professional training, most syllabus students are recreational dancers. Sophie is too old to pursue a conventional career as a danseuse, and many dancers retire at her age. The amount of schools that would accept her into a professional program that feeds into a major company are close to, if not zero. Nobody "lost a spot" to her. As long as they can pay the fees, anybody can take RAD syllabus classes and exams. They give you a sense of achievement and track measurable progress. The RAD has defended Sophie Rebecca and stated publicly that she is NOT a professional danseuse. As far as I'm aware, her highest level of completion is Intermediate Foundation. If I remember correctly, Intermediate Foundation exams don't even include pointework (since ballet is, you know, far more than pointework). No serious company is going to hire a student who's only reached Intermediate-level classes, and very, very, very few will a hire a danseuse who's not proficient in pointework. All she's doing is showing a love for adult recreational ballet. That's it. She's not taking anything away from XX girls. Ballet is open to EVERYONE, not just pale, skinny XX women.
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