#these fucking communication games jesus can we not do them
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me: do you have any examples that you liked that i could use to design it the way you like
them: oh i trust your view
me: ok if you say so *puts effort into thinking up ideas how to make everything as best as possible, spends double the time because i don't have any guidelines on what im doing and just have to think everything up from scratch*
me: *finishes* *asks them to review and point out everything they want to change*
them: first impression is really good!!!
me: good to hear! so, is there anything you'd like me to change? because in my view i'm done here
them: oh can we change this and this and this and i didn't think it would be this way? i really like this example, you can get inspiration from it
me: you :-) could've:-) said :-) everything:-) sooner :-) before:-) i finished :-) especially:-) given me :-) the examples :-) before :-) i started :-) working :-) because now :-) i can't change :-) the main structure :-) that easily:-) and it will :-) take :-) just as long :-) as starting from scratch:-)
#id rather die than work any job that requires talking to people#i thought i will just learn it and get through it but the opposite is happening#bc i don't understand anyone anymore even more than before#i hate all of it#CAN PPL JUST SAY STRAIGHT UP THAAT THEY WANT TO CHANGE SOMETHING THAT SOMETHING IS BAD#IM LITERALLY ASKING YOU TO CRITICISE MY WORK AND U HOLD IT OFF FOR GOD KNOWS WHAT REASON#these fucking communication games jesus can we not do them#i just want to be in my autistic community and never interact with other ppl ever#im so tired from solely trying to communicate everything is so ambiguous#; words generated by me#vent cw
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Psssst! Hey! Yes, you! We need to talk about clubs:
Using the Clubs for Immersive Gameplay
Of all the systems that Sims 4 has, the club feature is probably one of my favourites (Restaurants are a close second, but they're not why we're here today!) Clubs are one of the easiest ways to increase your immersion when you play and make the random townies that show up on community lots just a tiny bit less random.
The Basics
Often, people are mostly concerned with the groups their active sims are in. You might already have a club to keep track of your sims' closest friends, study group, or baby daddies, we don't judge here.
Clubs are also a great way to automate what you want your sim to be doing with less micromanaging, but for immersion, we're actually more interested in clubs for the sims you don't (or rarely) play.
WTF are the neighbours doing?
Most of the pre-made clubs are kinda meh. I prefer to add my own so I can make my community lots just a bit more lively and make sure people's activities make just a tiny bit of sense because the autonomy in this game is not great. These are just for inspiration based on clubs I often add to my own game:
A group of teens who meet at the retail clothing store to try on clothes and gossip about Nancy's nose job or whatever.
A local bowling league (complete with uniforms) who meet and bowl - just don't fuck with The Jesus.
An HOA of Karens who meet at the park to clean, raise property values, and be mean to people.
Geeks and gamers who meet at the local arcade to awkwardly flirt over pizza.
Comedians who meet at the local comedy club - you can even use the club doors to make a VIP backroom only for the performers.
Sports teams - such as a basket team who meets at a local basket court, or a swim team who meets at the local pool (you can even give them tiny matching speedos!)
Scouts! The scout feature is cute but it's a rabbit hole, boo! But you can make a Scouts club, complete with uniforms, and have them show up in parks where they can do various activities and work on their badges. Add a teen or two to supervise the younglings, their parents will be so proud, aww.
A sorority or fraternity in university who meet up at the local bar in matching varsity jackets to make all the other students feel inferior.
A group of old ladies who meet at the park to knit or cross-stitch and brag about the accomplishments of their descendants.
A "business" club, usually CEOs, lawyers and such, who meet in fancy bars to hold important business meetings and probably commit white-collar crimes, so predictable.
If you have a sim with an office/work from home job and you'd like to pretend they actually go to work, you can make an office building and a group of "coworkers" who'll show up to drink coffee, chat, and work on computers next to them in the office. It'll even simulate rotating desk assignments for an instant capitalist hellscape!
The possibilities are endless, and I find the club feature really useful to add little interesting scenarios to the background of my gameplay.
Thanks to SQOTD for inspiring this!
📩 Simblr question of the day: according to you, what are the most underutilized gameplay features in the sims games you played, dlc included? - @simblr-question-of-the-day
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That Healing Touch
AO3 Link
They stand in the Mayfield’s darkened living room, all looking at each other like they can’t quite conjure up the words for their next move. Eddie rubs a hand over his head, eyes darting away from the gazes of the others, just barely managing to bite off another Jesus Christ by digging his teeth into his bottom lip.
They can’t be certain where Mrs. Mayfield is. Maybe she’s been cleared out because of the hellscape currently seeping through Eddie’s trailer ceiling, like he assumes Uncle Wayne has. Maybe–she’s out for some other reason. The pinched expression on Little Red’s face suggests that wouldn’t be all too uncommon, for her mother not to come home in the night.
Eddie knows that song and dance well enough from his own youth.
All they can do is hope for the best–that she doesn’t show up. Eddie isn’t sure what they’ll do then, but he’s gotten pretty damn good at this whole running thing, bitter as he is about it.
“We should try to get some sleep,” Nancy finally breaks the silence, clipped and authoritative, like she hadn't just been dragged through a landscape of nightmares by Vecna’s own design.
After Chrissy, and then Patrick, Nancy makes the third time Eddie’s seen it, a pair of eyes glazing over, ghostly white. As shaken up as it’s left him every time just to see it from the outside looking in, he can barely understand how Wheeler is still on her feet, isn’t just a quivering mess in the corner somewhere, like he imagines he would be. Full of surprises is a fucking understatement, at this point.
“Nance–” Steve starts, one arm stretching out towards her, the worry on his face transparent.
“I’ll be okay, Steve,” she takes a step away from him, putting distance between them.
From the thin line of her mouth, Eddie gets the sense that any comfort offered might make her reach her breaking point. Steve must feel it too, because he drops his hands as though in surrender.
“Just…” Nancy sighs, steadying herself, “we won’t be any help at all if we’re all too exhausted to function.”
“You heard the lady,” Robin gives a wobbly, uncertain smile, “she’s in charge, after all.”
She pulls out that old adage, like it’s a well worn joke. Eddie has the good grace not to call her out on it, doesn’t quite drawl out a sarcastic That’s not what you said in the boat, but it’s a close call.
Steve’s eyes dart back and forth between them, lingering on Robin, the pair of them managing some kind of silent communication through nothing but frowns and eyebrow twitches.
“Alright, alright,” he finally agrees, however reluctantly, giving a defeated nod. “I mean, you’re not wrong on the sleep thing. Not like we can play our best game when we’re totally out of it, after all.”
There’s something in his tone, the way his gaze flits briefly to the kids and then catches Eddie’s own, that reminds him of that moment right before launching off the bank out into Lover’s Lake. Steve’s being glib, casual, the way Eddie had been when he’d refused to let Dustin get on the boat with them, the four older teens all playing along with an unspoken plan. He’s trying so desperately to seem perfectly normal for the four munchkins currently in the room with them.
Eddie barely understands how any of the kids are holding their shit together as well as they already are, especially when he feels like he’s about to shake apart himself at any second. But behind the brave faces, he can see it, the exhaustion beginning to settle, making them look older than they have any right to.
The least he can do is play along.
“Not the sports metaphors, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, long and loud, as he sways into Steve’s space, grin too bright. “Please, be merciful, there are nerds present.”
“Yeah, well, when aren’t there?” Steve asks, low and dry. He bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s, gratitude obvious.
“I am not a nerd!” Erica protests loudly.
“You’re joking, right?” Dustin rolls his eyes. “We’ve been over this, Erica Sinclair. You are as nerdy as they come.”
It’s a little uncanny, because the amused but fond look Dustin pins her with almost perfectly mirrors the way Eddie has seen Steve look at Dustin himself, the way Eddie suspects he also sometimes looks at the kid.
“Plus, some of us? Are jocks and nerds, thank you very much,” Lucas says, swiveling around to Erica’s other side and shooting her a pointed look.
“Yeah, turns out Lucas isn’t too cool for the rest of us,” Max teases, eyes crinkling at the corners as she knocks her shoulder into his.
“That’s true,” Erica agrees, hands on her hips in a way that reminds Eddie, hysterically enough, of Harrington. “You’ve always been the one who’s way too cool for my brother, not the other way around.”
As their bickering continues, Steve catches Eddie’s eyes again, mouthing a quick Thank you while they’re all too distracted to see.
Nancy and Robin both look a little heartened, too, by the familiar sounds of the kids arguing, their rigid edges softening.
“Nine has long since past, so you know what that means–time for bed, kiddos!” Robin interrupts the petty squabbling before it gets entirely out of their control, starting to corral them back on track.
Several groans ring out, but Steve cuts them off with a quick clap of his hands, jumping in right where she left off, their rhythm as fluid as a well-oiled machine.
“Yeah, yeah,” he makes a motioning gesture with one hand, the other firmly planted on his hip, “Come on, you knuckleheads, and get a move on.”
The combined force of Robin and Steve seems, miraculously, to be enough, the younger four members of their little monster-fighting brigade getting into gear to set up their various sleeping arrangements, even as they grumble about it.
“Robin, you’re with me,” Nancy declares simply before turning on her heel and marching from the living room.
Eddie catches the subtle look Steve and Robin share again.
“Better somebody stick close by Nance after…everything,” Steve says quietly, the tightness of his voice making it clear he’s still a bit shaken up.
“I’ve got her,” Robin assures him, giving Steve’s arm a quick squeeze at his grateful nod.
Max clears her throat, then, drawing Eddie’s attention away from the pair as they hunch their heads together and head out of the room, still talking in soft voices.
“Erica can stay in my room. There are sheets and shit in the hall closet for the rest of you,” she directs.
Eddie nods, following her and ignoring the heated game of rock-paper-scissors that’s broken out between Dustin and Lucas to determine which of them is going to claim the couch. As they make their way down the hall, they pass what must be Mrs. Mayfield’s room, catching a quick glimpse of Nancy and Robin beginning to quietly settle in for the night.
Max stops in front of a wooden door, shorter in width than the rest, and yanks it open roughly.
With a dismissive wave of her hand, she gestures at the contents inside for Eddie to see.
“Whatever you guys need, take it.” The words are brusque, a cover for the generosity of her statement, the ease with which she’s letting them all into her space, into her home. He’s noticed it to varying degrees with all of them–it feels transparent how much they know and trust each other, the way they’re willing to give up nearly anything to help the others, to help with this entire life-risking hero’s quest they’ve put themselves on.
But Eddie’s the outsider, here, not a member of their little party, the odd man out. So it still feels like he should be especially grateful, every time they extend that willingness to give whatever they’ve got to try and help him.
“Sure thing. Thanks, Red.”
“Night, Eddie,” she murmurs, back already to him, quiet enough he almost doesn’t catch it.
He’s turning to retreat back to the living room, blankets piled up in his arms, when a voice behind him stops him in his tracks.
"Psst! Eddie! Hey, Eddie!" Steve calls at a stage whisper from down the hall, reminiscent of the way he'd called after him in the Upside Down. When Eddie catches his eye, Steve motions with one hand for him to follow. "C'mere."
Eddie drops the stack back in the closet for now and dutifully makes his way towards Steve.
“Yeah, dude. What’s going on?”
Grabbing onto a loose fistful of Eddie’s leather jacket, Steve tugs him into the bathroom in one quick motion, and then shuts the door behind him with a click.
Eddie tries fervently to ignore the thrill that goes up his spine at being manhandled by Harrington.
It shouldn’t come as all that much of a surprise, really, that Steve’s capable of it. Eddie might not know shit about sports, but he did know that Steve was on, like, pretty much every team known to Hawkins back when he was in school. So, of course he can tug Eddie around like a floppy-armed ragdoll.
That said–Steve seems winded from the exertion, after he does it, leaning back to basically slump against the bathroom door. The move serves as a reminder that he’s a little worse for wear, at the moment, despite the fact that he definitely hadn’t showed it earlier. Not while he was busy running around the world hidden beneath their feet.
“Harrington, seriously, man–you doing okay?” Eddie asks, wincing slightly in sympathy pains even as he tries to keep his tone light, conversational.
“Just–give me like…one second here,” Steve holds up a finger for emphasis, the fact that his breathing is still clearly labored not doing much to soothe Eddie’s nerves.
But he does as Steve asks, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him–a check in with absolutely no subconscious ulterior motive, thank you very much.
And, well–Steve is a far cry from the pristine, preppy visage Eddie had gotten used to seeing swaggering around the halls of Hawkins High in his perfectly pressed jeans and popped collar polos. Here, in the lowlighting of the Mayfields’ bathroom, he’s bare-chested–apart from Eddie’s battle vest still slung over his shoulders–skin smudged with Upside Down soot, his sides mottled with angry crimson gashes where the bats had dragged him across rocky ground.
That famous hair of his is still somehow swooping perfectly into place, though. Annoyingly enough, and as fucked up as it probably is…Eddie thinks he manages to be mouth-wateringly hot regardless, whether he’s totally polished under the high school’s harsh fluorescents or mussed and panting beneath the dim orange glow of the single working lightbulb currently flickering above the sink.
He’s gotta admit, though, in his fantasies of Steve Harrington cornering him alone in a bathroom–of which there had been none, obviously, because that would be ridiculous, not to mention colossally stupid–approximately zero of them had panned out like this.
Especially when the next words out of Steve’s mouth are a hurried, “Eddie, man, you, uh–think you can change this bandage for me?”
Eddie's eyes dart down to the scrap of Wheeler’s shirt wrapped around Harrington’s middle, the darkened stain of rust colored blood coating it–and, yeah, shit. Definitely makes sense now, why Steve dragged him in here.
“I’d ask Robin,” Steve is saying, “but, dude, you saw how she got about the rabies, and I really don’t wanna freak her out more than she already is. And Nance–well, after the shit she already went through tonight, I’m not gonna put this on her too. There’s Henderson or Sinclair, I guess, but–”
Steve bites at his bottom lip. And, sure, Eddie’s never been great in school, but he likes to think he can read people pretty well. It doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientis to put the pieces together, especially after the little show they’d put on in the living room–Steve doesn’t want the kids to realize just how badly he’s hurt, and clearly he doesn’t want to burden the girls, either.
Eddie wonders exactly how he should feel about the fact that Harrington’s singled him out as the one he’s willing to let carry some of the responsibility currently weighing on his own broad, more than capable shoulders…and decides to take it as a compliment.
“Harrington,” Eddie cuts him off by clapping a hand gently to his arm, meant to be reassuring, “you don’t have to sell me on it, man. I’ll do it. Happy to help.”
“Oh, okay…good,” Steve’s shoulders slump, like he was expecting to have to put up some kind of a fight. He catches Eddie’s eyes, giving him a quick, almost uncertain half-smile. “That’s–thanks, man.”
Steve moves around him, then, allowing himself to collapse into a sitting position atop the closed toilet with a pained wince.
“Don’t mention it. Uh,” Eddie spins around once in the small space of the bathroom, searching, “has Little Red got…alcohol pads, gauze, shit like that?”
“Under the sink,” Steve pants, one hand clasped against his side, “second door.”
That one simple sentence from Steve is enough to paint a picture in full. Steve’s been in the Mayfields’ trailer. He’s been in it enough times he knows where things like the first aid kit are kept.
Eddie squats down, ducking his head below the counter–and spots it immediately, the slender first aid kit, exactly where Steve had said it would be.
And, sure, Eddie had at least been aware that Steve knew his mouthy little red-headed neighbor. Dustin and the other boys had often regaled him, disbelieving as he might have been, with tales of their incredibly cool babysitter, the former King of Hawkins High. Eddie had even seen Harrington’s infamous BMW parked over here a few times, a sight so surreal he couldn’t help but register it.
But, still–there’s a difference in knowing abstractly and actually seeing the familiarity between Steve and the kids in words and gestures, his importance in their lives taking concrete, undeniable shape.
Like Eddie had told him while they trekked across the woods in the Upside Down–the Steve Harrington of reality? Is nothing like the one he’d pictured all those years they’d shared space in the same halls and classes.
“Seems like you know the lay of the land pretty well,” he can’t help but comment as he tilts his head toward the cabinet.
“Yeah, well, Mayfield wipes out on her skateboard a lot.” Eyes widening, as though he just realized what he said, Steve points in Eddie’s direction. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Eddie shoots Steve a toothy grin. “You scared of a fourteen year old girl, Harrington?”
“Absolutely,” the corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up into a half smile, “and if you know what’s good for you, you will be, too.”
“Trust me, man–I’ve got a healthy respect for Red’s fearsomeness. Even if I think she’s totally a lot softer than she lets on.”
Steve shakes his head, giving him a rueful smile. “You’re not wrong there.”
Popping open the kit, Eddie surveys their supplies. There’s an assortment of things inside, including an array of bandages in a variety of sizes alongside gauze, scissors, and hospital tape.
“Jackpot.”
Eddie holds up an alcohol wipe, shaking the little white package triumphantly.
“Great,” Steve agrees, though he sounds ragged, eyelids fluttering shut for a brief moment as he sucks in a sharp breath.
“You need me to,” Eddie tilts his chin towards the scrap of fabric wrapped around Steve’s middle, “undo that for you?”
“...Could you?” Steve asks, a flash of hesitance and uncertainty crossing his face.
Eddie isn’t sure if Steve really thinks he might refuse, that he’s overstepping some kind of boundary by asking, or if it’s just costing him immensely to admit he needs the help.
“‘Course I will, man. Absolutely. Said I’d help, didn’t I?”
Steve nods, then stands up, reaching out and gripping the bathroom sink briefly in order to steady himself.
Once he’s up, Steve shrugs out of Eddie’s battle vest. The move puts himself–and that thick pelt of his chest hair over firm pecs, the hard planes of his stomach just above Nancy’s makeshift bandage–on full display…revealing the very physique Eddie had been desperately trying to get him to cover up by tossing him the vest in the first place.
Eddie tries his damnedest not to ogle Harrington’s body too obviously, reminding himself of Steve’s wounds, of the task at hand. The task in which he’ll have to get up close and personal with Steve’s bare stomach.
Jesus Christ. Maybe he’s still in Hell, and climbing out of that impossible, gravity-defying hole in the trailer’s ceiling had actually all been part of some elaborate fantasy.
Eddie squats down in front of Steve, putting himself on eye level with his stomach. He shouldn’t be glad for the stain coating that strip of white fabric, the reminder of blood–he’s not, really, obviously he’s not–but he’s not mad about the fact that the sight is helping his boner just…calm the fuck down. Because now is absolutely not the time, but the wires in his brain can’t help crossing, taking very interested note of the fact that he’s all but kneeling in front of Steve fucking Harrington on a dingy bathroom floor.
As Eddie reaches out for the makeshift bandage, he braces one hand on Steve’s hip to steady himself, his fingers grazing against the unmarred skin just below his wound. That initial brush is enough to have Steve sucking in a sharp breath.
“That hurt?” Eddie asks, spooked as he blinks up at Steve worriedly.
“All good, dude,” Steve shakes his head in answer before tilting it up to the ceiling, hands settling on top of his head.
He grips at his own hair tightly, mussing those luscious waves with the force of his tugs. The move is enough to have Eddie seriously doubting the truth of his denial. He’s got a feeling trying to argue the point, however, would get him absolutely nowhere.
“Just keep going.”
So Eddie does, unwinding the fabric in slow, careful movements, tongue poking unconsciously out from between his lips as he pours all his focus into the task at hand.
He’s just managed to get off the first layer when Steve’s body gives a subtle shift, the only warning Eddie gets before the other boy sways on his feet.
The pair of them let out an alarmed Shit! in unison just before Eddie catches Steve around the waist, careful not to press against his injuries.
“Dude! Holy shit, be careful!” he chides sternly. “You’re not gonna be a damn bit of good to any of us if you collapse on the floor and conk your head on the side of the tub or some shit.”
Steve lets out a humorless laugh.
“And what exactly am I supposed to do about that, Eddie?” he asks, sarcasm on full blast as he gestures weakly to his belly, body still pressed close in Eddie’s arms. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not, like…exactly at full fighting shape here.”
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, man. Look around,” he thrusts out his free hand in exasperation at the empty bathroom. “It’s just you and me in here. So you can give up the heroic, stiff upper lip shtick for a minute, and just–I don’t know, hold onto my shoulder, or something. Jesus Christ, Harrington, scare a guy to death, why don’t you.”
Steve lets out a huff, but Eddie’s pleased to feel his body loosening beneath his touch, the line of his shoulders no longer so taut and rigid like he’s a warrior who’s about to be called right back onto the battlefield.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay, you’re right, you’re right.”
“No shit I am, Harrington,” Eddie reaches over and bops him lightly on the end of the nose, “and don’t you forget it.”
Steve rolls his eyes.
“Uh-huh. No one likes a smart ass, Eds.”
But Eddie can see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up into a private half smile.
They untangle themselves then, resuming their prior positions. Miraculously, Steve does as instructed, settling a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, large palm warm enough Eddie can feel the heat radiating even through his leather jacket. He really hopes that’s not a sign Steve’s running some kind of infection induced fever.
So Eddie returns to the task at hand, peeling back the last scraps of Wheeler’s shirt, he and Steve grimacing in unison at the way it tries to stick steadfast to his skin.
With the wound finally free, Eddie hisses in sympathy as his eyes dart all over the bite marks beginning to scab across Steve’s stomach. They look raw and angry, bright red where all the skin has been scraped off or gnawed through. He’s seen his fair share of cuts and bruises, from brawls at the Hideout to scuffles at school, but nothing quite like this.
"Shit, man. We could really use a Healer right about now."
Steve lets out a wry little noise of agreement, understanding enough.
“Guess that’s gotta be you, Munson,” he says, giving Eddie a jocular, almost apologetic pat on the shoulder.
Eddie can’t stop himself from shaking his head, because Christ, this guy–all heroic, death-defying stunts and sarcastic comebacks one minute, and then big, sympathetic puppy dog eyes the next. He kinda can’t believe he’s even real, let alone that this is what the Steve Harrington is like.
Scrambling to cover up how awe-stricken he’s suddenly feeling, Eddie shoots Steve a smirk as he quips, "Admit it, Harrington. You just wanna see how I'd look in the skirt."
Idiot, Eddie mentally berates himself, posture stiffening the second the words leave his mouth. Just because you’re a sixth year senior, that’s no excuse to be a fucking moron, do not flirt with the former jock King of Hawkins High.
After all, just because he's hurt…that doesn't mean he couldn't break Eddie clean in half if he wanted to, and flirting with a straight guy is practically a one-way ticket to just that.
So shock hits Eddie with all the force of an ice cold bucket of water dumped over his head when Steve simply huffs out a laugh, good-natured.
"You caught me," he sticks up his hands, like he's surrendering in a hold-up. "That's been my real plan all along."
For once, Eddie’s too flustered to speak, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he feels the distinct heat from a blush spreading up his neck, splotching his face and ears.
There’s a playful glint in Steve’s eyes, then, like he smells blood in the water. It’s nice, after everything that’s happened this evening, to see them shine with something other than the foggy glaze of pain.
“Oh, seriously, did I catch you off guard with that one for a change?” Steve leans a little closer into Eddie’s space, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-smirk. “What is it, Munson, cat got your tongue?”
Eddie finally recovers enough to shake his head and quip, “Can’t turn off that infamous Harrington charm for even a second, can you, Stevie? Bleeding all over the place, and you’ve still got it.”
“Well, how do you think I get all the nurses at Hawkins General to take such good care of me when I end up there?” Steve shoots him a wink, being distressingly glib, in Eddie’s humble opinion, about the multiple trips to the ER he’s apparently got under his belt. “A little charm goes a long way, Eds.”
Eddie snorts. “Yeah, so they tell me.”
“Come on, man,” Steve waves a dismissive hand at him. “You’d know all about it.”
Embarrassingly enough, the mere suggestion that Steve Harrington finds him charming makes Eddie’s cheeks go even pinker.
He clears his throat, soldiering on quite valiantly, if you ask him.
“Well, uh…Nurse Munson’s on duty tonight, and, in my totally accurate medical opinion, we need to get those scrapes cleaned up asap, big boy. No more dalliances,” Eddie wags a finger in his face, “and then I’ll think about letting you earn back your lollipop at the end.”
Steve laughs again. “Yeah, well, no way in hell I’m gonna miss out on that.”
But he stills dutifully, like he really is serious about being the model patient, earning back his treat.
As he starts tearing open the alcohol pad, prepping for the next part, Eddie can’t help but shoot him a sympathetic look.
“Harrington–sorry, dude. This is probably gonna sting like a bitch.”
Steve’s grip, where his hand has settled back on Eddie’s shoulder, tightens, but Eddie refuses to shrug him away. As Steve nods his head, Eddie can see the way he’s clenching his teeth.
“Just…try to make it quick, yeah? Lickety split.”
Eddie’s lips twitch in amusement from the dorky turn of phrase, yet another layer to Steve Harrington he finds irresistibly endearing.
But he promises just the same. “You got it. Fast as lighting, that’s me.”
Keeping his swipes gentle, Eddie begins to clean the wounds gouged into his sides. Almost instantly, he can see sweat beading on Steve’s brow.
It feels kind of like a parody, of the handful of times Eddie had attended gym class, found his eyes lingering despite himself on Harrington’s glistening, Adonis-like form. Something inside him stirs, deep into caretaking mode, compelled to wipe the dampness away.
He resists the urge, but just barely. And since there’s not much else he can do for the pain, Eddie figures conversation makes as good a distraction as any.
“You know, I thought Dustin was full of shit before, but–you’re, uh. Totally babysitter extraordinaire, aren’t ya, Harrington?”
“For all the good it does me,” Steve lets out a huff that’s at once amused and exasperated, and the sound is music to Eddie’s ears, breaking up the short, pained breaths from before. “Those little shitheads are total pains in my ass–but, I mean, somebody’s gotta keep ‘em alive, you know?”
“And that’s gonna be you, huh?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow up at him as he continues rubbing circles into his skin, doing his best to clean the gore and muck from the stretches that remain uninjured.
Talking is helping distract him, too. Sure, he had patched up his dad as a kid, after a few jobs gone wrong, but, still–nothing that really held a candle to this. The less he thinks about the raw wounds spread out in front of him, the ones Steve is trusting him to help with, the better.
In honor of that, Eddie lets out a whistle. “Steeeeeve Harrington, big damn hero. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Shut up, man,” Steve complains, and even though the lighting is low, Eddie would swear there’s a pink tinge staining his cheeks, “it’s not that big a deal.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear Steven. It absolutely is. Total paladin behavior, in fact.”
The little confused furrow that appears between Steve's eyebrows is ridiculously cute. Eddie isn't sure how disgusted he should be with himself for what a lovesick thought that is.
"...Pala-what?"
“They’re like knights, basically. The D&D version. Championing a cause, protecting the weak and defending the innocent, restoring good to the lands. That sorta thing.”
Steve gives a short nod of understanding, his mouth forming a perfectly shaped oh.
“I’d say the shoe–or, you know, armor, whatever–fits.” Still meticulous in his strokes with the pad, Eddie finds himself rambling. “Diving into that lake to protect the rest of us? That’s paladin 101, man. True heroic shit.”
“I mean…it’s really not.” Steve shrugs ever so slightly, his lips tugging down into a small frown. “It’s what I’m good for, you know? Nance and Robin–hell, even the kids–they’ve got the brains part of this operation covered. They need somebody around to just…take the risks so they don’t have to.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up immediately at the implications of Steve’s words.
“Well, well, will you look at that? Now who needs to cut himself a break?” Eddie asks, echoing what Steve said to him back in the Upside Down.
“Just the facts,” Steve says with a wan smile–parroting the phrase Eddie’s heard the youngest Sinclair use on the boys after she’s thrown out a particularly cutting remark, and not even having the decency to look bitter about it.
Eddie shakes his head, vehement. “That sounds like a crock of bullshit to me, Harrington. Don’t sell yourself short, not like that. You’re a badass, sure, no two ways about it–but those kids, out there? They’d be fucking…lost without you, man. Hell, when Buckley realized you’d gotten hurt? Looked like she was hanging on by a thread. They need you.”
I need you, Eddie thinks, but can’t quite say it, his throat constricting anxiously around the words. Still, he catches Steve’s eyes deliberately, willing him to catch his full meaning.
Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth to chew at it, Steve ducks his face for a second, dodging Eddie’s look. When he speaks again, it’s quiet but no less sincere.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Eddie answers immediately, a smile breaking out across his face. “I mean, what’re friends for? You’d do the same for me–already have, even.”
“Oh, so you’re saying we’re friends now, Munson?” Steve crinkles his nose in amusement, inviting Eddie in on the joke.
“Well, I mean…hell pretty much has frozen over,” Eddie replies, playing along easily. “Besides, who else but us is there to band together, give Dustin a hard time so his head doesn’t get any bigger than it already has?”
Steve inclines his head, smile amused, soft. It’s a beautiful sight, one Eddie could get used to seeing.
“Can’t argue with that.”
As Eddie finally finishes up cleaning the last of the scrapes and bite marks, he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, following his movements.
“You know, you’re not half bad at this,” Steve observes thoughtfully.
Discarding the last of the alcohol pads, Eddie gives Steve a cordial half bow. “Why thank you, my liege. That’s high praise indeed coming from the king himself.”
“Never mind, I take it back. Your bedside manner sucks,” Steve says, deadpan, rolling his eyes. Then, he jabs a finger in Eddie’s direction, “And don’t call me that.”
“Guess you’re just gonna have to report me to the doctor on the floor, then…your royal highness.”
As Steve reaches out to shove his shoulder, Eddie lets out a delighted cackle, dancing just beyond his reach.
“Strike what I said earlier, too. There’s no friendship bracelet in your future, dude, not with that attitude.”
Eddie lays a palm over his heart, gasping like he’s been hit.
“Not the friendship bracelets, Stevie! What have I done to deserve such a cruel and unusual punishment? And after I helped heal your wounds, too.”
“Yeah, well, the job’s only half done on that front, Nurse Eddie. Better get back to it, and then I’ll think about letting you earn back your friendship bracelet. Maybe,” Steve says, mimicking Eddie’s ultimatum from earlier. “And you’d be missing out, too, dude. Just ask Robin, I come up with the absolute coolest designs.”
“Challenge accepted, Stevie boy. Prepare to witness the best bandaging you’ve seen since Boris Karloff’s The Mummy.”
Steve’s lips twitch, like he’s trying to bite back his smile. “Thought you were trying to keep me alive, Munson, not turn me into a Halloween decoration.”
Eddie clucks his tongue. “Such limited imagination, Harrington. I assure you–I can do both.”
Gauze from the first kit at the ready, he gets right to work unspooling it, giving himself a suitable enough length to get started with ease.
Now that they’ve managed to jump over that first major hurdle and Steve’s injuries have been thoroughly cleaned, the full magnitude of the situation hits Eddie all at once. A wave of tiredness, bone deep, rolls over him as he presses that first layer of gauze against Steve’s side, and he can’t help but say, “This whole thing is–completely and utterly batshit insane. You realize that, right?”
Steve’s got his arms raised over his head, now, but the slight tilt of his eyebrow might as well be a shrug as he looks down at Eddie, the quirk of his lips apologetic.
“You kinda get used to it, after a while.”
“Get used to it? Jesus Christ–” Eddie groans in disbelief even while he keeps his fingers steady, holding the gauze carefully in place as he continues wrapping it around Steve’s stomach. “Don’t say that kinda shit to me, man.”
“Sorry.” Steve has the decency to look chastened, though not nearly as apologetic as Eddie thinks he should.
“Like, sure, okay–dark wizards and magic, that’s great for D&D. But in real life? Kinda prefer that the evil alternate dimensions didn’t eat a hole in the ceiling of my uncle’s trailer, you know? Some of us need a place to live.”
Eddie’s practically hugging Steve around the waist by the time he’s stopped talking, ready to secure his handiwork. There’s a bizarre kind of intimacy to it, Steve warm and solid in his hold, and Eddie wonders if Steve can feel it too when he glances up at him, silent communication passing between them that has Steve ripping off a long strip of medical tape and handing it down without having to be asked.
So, needless to say, Eddie’s a bit distracted, finishing off the job and giving everything one final assessment, when Steve breaks the silence with two totally nonsensical words.
“...the pool.”
Eddie blinks, startled enough he straightens up and gives Steve a full once over, wondering for a moment if the bats had gone for his head, too, without them being any the wiser.
“Wait–what?”
“The pool, at my place,” Steve trucks on, that determined clench to his jaw. Not from pain, this time, but something else. “That’s what it was–well, is–for me. The place, where the demogorgon attacked. It took Barbara–Holland? Nancy’s best friend. The first night that we…”
He trails off with a shake of his head.
“Well, anyway. It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying, I get it. Maybe not to the level of, you know, having your whole goddamn ceiling ripped out, but–the Upside Down, all this shit. It takes things from us. All of us. And I’m sorry it happened to you, too, but…at least you’re not alone?”
Eddie gnaws on his bottom lip as he looks at Steve, watching the other teen wince. Like he just knows it’s not enough.
But the thing is…it is. Steve has to know that it is.
“To be honest, I think that’s the only thing that’s keeping me from just, I don’t know–shattering into a million little pieces, or something,” Eddie admits. “The fact that you guys–”
Embarrassingly enough, his throat constricts, for a second, choking off his words.
“...that you’re here. With me. Especially Buckley and Wheeler and Little Red–even Lucas, after I was such a shit to him…and you. I mean, you don’t even know me, not really, and the whole rest of the town is practically lined up outside with Carver, holding pitchforks…but not you. Pretty damn sure I’d never have even made it this far without that.”
Steve clasps his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We’re not going anywhere, man,” he promises, gaze steady, hazel eyes so serious Eddie doesn’t dare doubt him. “We’ve got this. We’ve got you.”
Eddie takes a chance, settles his hand on top of Steve’s, gives it a squeeze in return.
“I’ve got you, too. You know?”
Steve gives a little nod, his smile warm enough to light up his entire face.
“I know you do, man. I know.”
And, for a second, looking back at Steve, the hope floods in, and Eddie lets himself believe it. That, with this merry band of misfit monster hunters standing behind him, there’s no choice–it’ll all turn out alright, in the end.
—
By the time they make it back to the living room–“decent” again, Steve having immediately shrugged Eddie’s battle jacket back on over his now freshly wrapped bandages, the sight of which had made something in Eddie’s chest immediately flutter–Lucas is settling down on the couch with a patchwork quilt while Dustin bemoans his fate, loudly, as he piles blankets onto the floor in something that’s steadily resembling a nest. Eddie guesses, when he didn’t immediately come back, the pair of them must have gone on their own journey to raid the Mayfield’s linen closet.
“We said best of ten,” Lucas is saying with a sigh, the picture of put-upon patience, “not my fault you suck at rock-paper-scissors.”
“It’s a game of chance!” Dustin squawks in protest. “There’s absolutely no skill involved. How can I ‘suck’ at some bullshit game that requires no strategy.”
Lucas shrugs, unperturbed. “You tell me.”
The noise Dustin lets out makes it clear he’s gearing up for a continued argument–when Steve drops a hand on his head, distracting him with a noogie.
“No one likes a sore loser, Henderson.”
“I am not a sore loser!” Dustin huffs, arms crossed over his chest and lip jutting out in something that dangerously resembles a pout.
“Au contraire, my dear friend. You’re right about that, you’re not a sore loser. You are, in fact…” Eddie holds up a single finger, Dustin’s face brightening in that moment’s worth of anticipation, “the sorest of losers.”
The blue streak Dustin swears up is worth it for both Lucas and Steve’s guffawing laugh.
He continues muttering to himself, low-voiced and difficult to make out apart from something that sounds distinctly like traitors in my midst, as he somewhat viciously tosses more quilts onto the ground.
“Gimme that,” Steve says without heat, taking several blankets from Dustin’s hands and spreading them out, laying a solid foundation for a pallet that he quickly uses the others to build upon. “Now, come on, man, quit complaining and just…lie down.”
Given the fuss Dustin’s been kicking up, Eddie can’t help but be impressed that Steve’s instruction is enough to actually get him to comply. The powers of babysitter persuasion strike yet again, it seems.
Or, at least…half as he’s told, since settling onto the pallet still offers plenty of back talk on Dustin’s part.
“I can’t believe this. My theories turn out to be correct all damn night, and still I get relegated to sleeping on the carpet. How is that fair?!” Dustin huffs.
From his position on the couch, Lucas’s only answer is to snort, shaking his head.
Hand on his hip, Steve cocks a single eyebrow, shooting Dustin the driest of looks. There’s something deeply wrong with Eddie, he’s pretty sure, that he finds the whole thing painfully attractive.
"Dustin, man, it’s not a competition. Besides…beats the floor of a Russian elevator," he comments, and Eddie has no idea what the hell that is supposed to mean.
Dustin tilts his head from side to side, as though considering. Reluctantly, he says, "...Agreed."
Nodding, seemingly satisfied, Steve lays down on one side of Dustin. Eddie does the same, following suit until they’re bracketing him like a pair of parentheses. A warmth settles over Eddie, pleasant and bone-deep, as he tilts his face to catch Steve’s eyes, staring back at him from over the top of Dustin’s head.
"Scoot over, dude. Eddie doesn't want your pointy ass elbows digging into him." Steve nudges Dustin in the side, causing the younger teen to readjust with a minimal amount of grumbling. To Eddie he says, sotto, "Trust me, man, I know. Those things are like daggers or something, I swear."
“Are not,” Dustin protests, though the words sound drowsy, his eyes having already drifted shut despite all the protests about how uncomfortable he’d been.
“Are too,” Steve volley backs effortlessly. Eddie catches the look he’s giving the kid, though, and it can only be described as fond amusement.
“Thanks for the warning, kind sir,” Eddie gives Steve a mock salute, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’ll be on the lookout for those deadly weapons being brandished in the night.”
“Can’t believe…ganging up on me…” Dustin murmurs, the last word trailing off as his breathing begins to even out.
“You’re the one who wanted to introduce us, dude,” Steve argues softly, though it’s clear his words have fallen on sleeping ears. To Eddie he says, voice a whisper, “You believe this kid? The arguing never stops, man, even in his sleep.”
“I know,” Eddie whispers back, parroting back Steve’s own words in the Upside Down, and the pair of them share a pleased, knowing grin.
And it’s comforting, the thought that sweeps through Eddie’s mind once he’s settled enough to start drifting off, Dustin’s snoring soft between them, Steve only an arm’s length away.
They’ve got Henderson. And as for Eddie himself?
Well…Harrington’s got him.
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#henderfam#henderdads#the party#brotp: babysitter's club#buckington besties#my writing#my stuff#my things#missing scene fic#fellas is it gay to gently clean another man's wounds? you decide
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sorry but I'm just tired!!! it's voiceoverpete and dream and cmc and manatreed and forever and fucking l for leeeee and all the other men I'm forgetting about or never knew about. It's about women feeling like an afterthought as addons on nearly every server and the women jokes and the girls getting talked over and the gay jokes because there aren't enough women on the server and you can't joke about things like that with them, anyway.
It's about the way women are treated by chat and by the wider twitch community. They are maternal figures or sex objects or poor baby angels who can't do anything wrong. They can be hot or they can be sweethearts but people won't post about them the same way as they do for their male favs. They aren't funny and they're bad at the game and we keep saying to support them, but there really hasn't been one half as popular as any of the big male ccs.
I'm not trying to downplay the singular awfulness of the wilbur situation, or distract from it. but I see people just trying to cut him and/or his friends out and go back to posting and it's like jesus christ, it's not going to fucking end. it's just not. and I'm glad that more people have started coming out and saying shit now, but I'm begging you to look at the writing on the walls.
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Shielding Glances
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧 (𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 & 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲!𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐞𝐫𝐚 : 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚
(not proofread!)
You and Carl had been dating for a while, and everyone in Alexandria knew. It hasn't really been a secret since Ron's sleepover, where you and Carl were fawning all over each other especially following what happened.
It also didn't help that one night at Carl's house, you and him had been watching a movie and got too caught up in kissing, and Rick had come to check on the two of you, only to be met with both of your lips locked on one another's, and Carl's hand up your shirt.
That certainly was.. a day, for sure.
Despite having to keep the door open at Carl's house from that night onwards, you two were happy. You would spend your days sitting at the pond with Carl, laying on his lap and talking until the sun sets, or lazily watching movies in bed with him until one of you had to go on watch. Usually him.
However, he couldn't ignore the immense anxiety he felt when you had to go on watch. Realistically, he knew you weren't leaving the walls. He knew you would probably be safe and he didn't need to worry, but he couldn't help it. He had already lost so much, and he couldn't lose you too.
Now, he was sat next to you, during an important group meeting as Rick goes on and on about a plan for a run, as you play with Carl's fingers mindlessly. These meetings always stress you out, but being with your boyfriend made everything better.
You run your thumb over his palm, gently caressing the calluses that formed from all the fighting and work he does, you squeeze his hand then proceeding to loosen your grip, over and over until you were sure he was sick of it, yet of course, he wouldn't admit to it, after all it helped calm you.
You continue to fidget with your boyfriend's hand, prior to Rick proposing a question to the group. "Alrigh', y'all, this is serious and we need as many people we can get that are willin'." He addresses, that classic sheriff southern drawl evident in his voice.
You grip your boyfriend's hand before dropping it, raising your hand in the air so the constable can see you amongst the people. "I'll go. You said you need people, right?"
It's not like going on runs were new to you. You always went on them before you got to Alexandria, you had just decided runs were usually a lot more than they were worth. You were fine with patrol and such, just took a break from runs.
Nonetheless, when you realized your community needed help, you were eager to put yourself back in the game to assist them, much to Carl's dismay of course.
The room falls silent at the thought of a teenager willing to risk their life, especially on a run this dangerous. The tension in the air seems so thick, as if you could take your pocket knife to it like butter.
Carl shoots a glare at the man he calls his father, almost to say, 'Don't fucking do it.' Although, the leader doesn't care to pay attention to his son's pleas and nods at you, scribbling something down before proposing the question once more to the group as Carl sits there terrified.
There was no fucking chance of you going on that run, and he was going to make sure of it.
After the meeting, you feel rather excited to go on this run, as your boyfriend trails behind you, a gleam in his eye like you've never seen before. You approach the front door of your home with the Rhee's, as Carl taps you on the shoulder causing you to jolt.
"Jesus.. Carl, you scared me.." You giggle, turning the handle and going to walk into the house as Carl follows suit. "What the hell were you thinking?" He spits, seeming to be fuming mad.
"Excuse me?" You cock an eyebrow at him, confused as to how your boyfriend could speak to you like this.
"Back at the meeting? You're not going on that run, Y/N."
"Yes I am, Carl. You can't stop me."
"You're not going, Y/N." Carl continues, stepping closer to you. You feel your heart flutter at the sheriff's boy protectiveness and care, but you need to stand up for yourself.
"You don't control me, Grimes. I'm not a kid, and if you're so worried about me, march up to your dad and ask him to go with us. Fuck's sake, I just want to help my community." You glance up at him as he glares down at you, the glimmer in his baby blue eye melts your heart.
"Jesus, Y/N! Would you just listen?! I've lost enough and I'm not fucking losing you too. One slip-up is all it takes, and I won't have it." He exclaims, taking a step back.
You can tell just how scared he is, and you sympathize with him, but you need to help your people. There's no question about it.
"Carl.." You pause for a moment to gather your thoughts. "I have to go. I'm sick of being stuck in Alexandria all the time, and I can take care of myself."
"You heard my dad, he said it's one of the more dangerous runs! I need to protect you, Y/N. Please." He begs, and you begin to see his tough facade slip. You stand there for a moment, staring into Carl's eye, thinking the whole thing over.
"Does this really mean that much to you?" You soften as he slowly nods.
"Please, Y/N.. I don't want you to get hurt.." He pleads, as you wrap your arms around him. Shocked by your sudden embrace, he stands there before hearing mutters fall from your sweet mouth. One word that washes away all his worries.
"Okay." Your velvety voice whispers against his chest, burying your face in the cloth of his gray shirt.
His eyes trail down to you, a finger carefully slipping under your chin as he raises your head so your gaze meets his. His relieved smile eases you completely as he bows his head to connect his full lips with yours.
It begins to feel like hours pass as Carl's arms stay firmly wrapped around you and you soul kissed one another.
In reality, it was only a few moments before Carl pulls away to murmur a soft thank you. You slowly nod, placing a kiss to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.
Carl's breathing returns to a state of contentment and his heart-rate follows as he can rest easy knowing that you're where you belong,
safe in his arms.
Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long!! It was really tricky to find out where I wanted the story to go to and to find the motivation so again, I apologize if parts seem rushed!! Also my requests are open and I would love some because I SUCK with story ideas!!
#carl grimes fanfiction#writing requests#carl grimes#daryl dixon#fan fiction#glenn rhee#rick grimes#smut writer#the walking dead#writers on tumblr#the walking dead fanfiction#fanfic#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes fluff#twd carl#carl grimes x you#carl grimes x fem!reader#twd universe
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I realise you're HE, but any thoughts on how high school level education should be run/changed/etc? I'd love to know your views!
Oh sure, plenty, but they're not particularly informed lol
Well; Wales is actually massively and fundamentally changing secondary education atm, but we won't be getting students from it until the year after next, I think, so no real comment on effectiveness yet - but it's very interesting. They're getting rid of isolated subjects in favour of broad umbrella areas, as I understand it? So there's now Science and Technology (Physics, Biology, Chemistry, Computing, and all the various DT subjects like Woodwork, Electronics, Cookery, etc), Maths and Numeracy, Humanities (History, Geography, Ethics, Religion), Languages Literacy and Communication, and Health and Wellbeing (actually maybe Cookery comes under this one now? Dunno.) And there's a sixth to do with arts but I can't remember what it's called. But it includes Art, Drama, Media Studies, etc.
And then the idea is that a class will learn about a given topic at a time (I don't know for how long, so let's say six weeks), and this will be taught in each of those six umbrellas but via their own methods. So like... I dunno, let's say the Tudors:
That's fairly straightforward for Humanities, but in addition to giving you the historical facts you'd also explore historic trade routes and natural resources of the time and how they related to the politics (geography), the religious make up of the country and how THAT related to the politics (religion), etc.
Maths and Numeracy might explore how to use statistics to analyse Tudor era population or trade data.
Science and Tech could look at disease outbreaks and virology, or technological advancements and how they worked and get students to build one, or get students to construct a Tudor-era town using computer software
Languages can study plays from the era (Shakespeare), look at linguistic development, or use historical events as talking points to practice using vocab in conversations
Health and Wellbeing can explore stressors and challenges of the average Medieval peasant and how they overcame them, or play some popular Tudor sport or game, or make food to Tudor recipes, etc
The Arts one (god I cannot remember the name) can look at art history of the period, fashions, perform plays, etc
So everyone is still teaching the skills and knowledge of their subject areas, they're just united by one big case study. It apparently allows for far more integrated teaching, too, where two previously discrete subjects can join forces on a project.
All of which seems pretty good, on the whole, but also rife with issues if everyone isn't careful, so we'll see how it shakes out over the next few years.
From my own experiences of school though. Jesus. Something definitely needed to happen, fuck me.
What I should have learned in Textiles:
How to use a sewing machine
How to sew by hand to mend a tear
How to darn a hole
How to hem, dart, take in, and let out clothes
How to sew from a pattern
What I actually learned in Textiles:
How to use a sewing machine on its most basic setting
How to phone in creating a hand puppet out of felt because gluing was easier than sewing
How to badly sew an extremely makeshift and shit bag out of scrap fabric that you in no way want to then use
How to lose all interest in Textiles because it was useless and uninteresting
Like that is a VITAL skillset-imparting subject, and they fucked it, lads, they completely fucked it. Why did they never set us the task of buying a cheap shirt from a charity shop that we then amended in class? That would have been so useful.
Games and PE! Fucking hell! Here's what I should have learned:
How to stretch my body safely to target specific muscle groups, and in particular, how to cultivate a daily stretching routine I enjoyed and wanted to do
How to find a physical activity active enough to get me out of breath that I genuinely enjoyed, so that I wanted to continue it, e.g. salsa dancing or rope climbing or ice skating or hill climbing or assault courses or fucking anything at all
How to build my body up to doing particular activities safely and sustainably
How to find a physical activity to do on wet, cold, rainy days that would still be fun and I would still enjoy
Here's what I actually learned:
Physical activity is always uncomfortable and miserable and sometimes even painful
If you aren't enjoying running around in the wind and rain instead of the indoor gym The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.
Wanting to stay warm and dry and comfortable is a punishable choice.
You are only permitted to do physical activity in clothes that make you feel profoundly exposed and uncomfortable (a gym skirt and gym knickers in my school. Cycling shorts got you detention. Don't get me started on jogging bottoms.) Again, if you do not enjoy this, The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.
There are only three activity options. If you don't enjoy any of them, physical activity is not for you.
You should be able to Just Do physical exercise, without any training to build you up to it. If you can't and it hurts, this is because you're Bad At PE.
You will only be shown Once
Physical activity is only ever a team sport that you aren't good enough to be willingly picked for
LIKE WHAT THE FUCK
And you know what, LET'S round off with Food Technology/Cookery. Because I remember the things I was asked to make in FT. As a little baby Year 7, I still vividly remember two of the things we made.
Angel Delight. Easy, you might say! A simple treat, you might think! Easing the children into food prep, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was healthy eating, and so we were to add fruit to our Angel Delight. Any flavour Angel Delight, any fruit. Off you go.
I don't know if any of you have encountered fruit, Tumblrs, but it famously has faintly acidic juice. This will prevent the Angel Delight from setting within the one hour lesson, no matter how well you mixed the pudding, or how quickly you got it into the fridge. It will result in soggy gross lumps of oxidising fruit in sloppy liquid pudding.
Lesson learned: fruit makes food worse.
Cake. Easyish, you might say! A little harder than the Angel Delight but good training, you might think! A fairly straightforward process with a child-friendly food at the end, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was still healthy eating, so the teachers made it into an experiment; make four small cakes. One with sugar, one with sweetener, one with apple, and one with carrot. Then taste them and rank them in order. Off you go.
I don't know if any of you have ever tried eating sugarless carrot cake, Tumblrs, but I have, and I can tell you categorically that it really puts the "Did you know" into the phrase "Did you know that fructose and sucrose are not actually equivalents of each other in a culinary setting?" It was rancid. It was disgusting. It was vile. It made me hate carrot cake for the next 12 years, in case my mouth had to go through that ordeal again. I'm still highly suspicious of the stuff even now. To (I assume) the surprise of fuck-damned no one, we unanimously put them in the order of sugar, sweetener, apple, carrot.
Lesson learned: FRUIT MAKES FOOD WORSE AND CARROTS ARE ACTIVELY DISGUSTING
What possessed them?! No idea. Fucking hell.
Anyway this is getting long and I am still ill-informed. Peace out.
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Pigs off Campus!
(College Revolt is Back in Style.)
Stephen Jay Morris
4/23/2024
©Scientific Morality
Here is a nifty little analogy: suppose your dad gave money to your uncle to buy a gun so that he could shoot his ex-wife? Would your dad be guilty of murder? Kind of. He would be an accessory to murder. Suppose your country gave weapons to another country to commit genocide? Would it be guilty of genocide? Sort of, as they would be an accessory to a war crime. So, is it justifiable for Americans to protest Israel’s genocide against Palestinians? Hell, yeah! Not only is it justified, but it is also warranted.
Now I am going to play a game of comparative history. The Chuds have been whining and bitching about how college professors are brainwashing their precious White children with leftist propaganda. Back in 1968, most universities were run by Right wing, WASP men in suits and ties. College professors were either moderates or conservative. Only the Arts departments were managed by liberals and Beatniks. Baby Boomers were never brainwashed by college professors. They were autodidactic and hungry for the truth. Some joined the “Ban the Bomb” movement and later, the Civil Rights movement.
The urgency of the war at hand got ahold of Boomers. Many Vietnamese women and children along with American soldiers were dying by the hundreds, as was reported on the nightly news. A minority of Boomers felt helpless and wanted to stop the killing. So, they resorted to protests and strikes on university campuses. These acts were coordinated by two major student groups: the Black Student Union and Students for a Democratic Society, other wise known as SDS. I joined SDS in 1969. The only communication avenues we had at the time were printed fliers, underground newspapers, and FM rock stations. Oh, and let’s not forget the telephone. The FBI loved tapping them. If we’d had the technology Zoomers have today, we would have stopped the Vietnam War in 1967.
In 1968, the anti-war movement went international, from Europe to Africa to South America. Most of the world was opposed to the Vietnam War.
So, is this latest movement against Likud Party’s genocide on the Palestinian people a new Anti-War movement? As sure as the Earth is round! Now all this of this carping about Anti-Semitism is no different than when the New Left was accused of being Anti-American. Neither is true! There is a Jewish sect called, “Keturei Karta,” who believe that there can be no Israel until the Messiah comes. Many Jews do not accept Jesus as the Jewish messiah. Now, let me ask you. Is this orthodox sect antisemitic or just comprised of your average self-hating Jews? Shit no dumbass!
In 1968, we waved Vietcong flags and were accused of being communists. It was all done in the name of solidarity. Now the Palestinian flag is waved. Nothing has changed. We did have contingencies of Tankies, and other types of communist groups, who marched with us and chanted slogans that didn’t reflect the true sentiment of the movement’s coalition. Here are a couple I remember: “America must die! Let the red flag fly!” and “Get a clue! Fuck the red, white, and blue!” There were other silly ones I’ve long since forgotten.
Now you have Islamic nationalist groups doing the same thing. The Chants of “Death to America” come from small, Muslim, theocratic groups who are not affiliated with the Anti-authoritarian Left. Due to rumors and erroneous propaganda, the Left, as a rule, do not support Islam. Why? Well, because many of them does not support organized religion! Second, Islam, like Christianity and Judaism, are sexist religions.
It was the Battle of Seatle, in 1999, that gave me hope. Then came the occupation movement of 2011, and now, this anti-war movement of 2024. If they can pull this off, the movement’s young people can stop this so-called war in the Middle East. As for the young people in Israel, will they rise up and stop Likud Party? That remains to be seen.
#stephenjaymorris#poets on tumblr#american politics#anarchism#anarchopunk#anarchocommunism#anarcho communist#anarcho queer#anarcho capitalist#anarcho feminism#anarcho punk#baby boomer generation
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(kind of a long-ish excerpt -- i've been twisting myself into pretzels about posting fic for the first time in years and driving myself crazy about it, so i figured it'd do me good to do a teeny tiny soft launch to demystify the whole thing. as a treat
thoughts appreciated :') title may change, we'll see.)
texas sharpshooter fallacy flirt
mello/near | T (excerpt) | 700ish words | canon compliant.
near knocks.
his idea of inconspicuous is a sharp black coat and matching slacks and aviators now high up and glossy on his head. he knocks, and stands there in the fluorescent headache hallway where he can hear mello’s neighbors two doors over fucking to industrial EDM, their bed and their heads shrieking. as if the shock of white hair and vermeer eyes and his pretty babydoll mouth wouldn’t turn heads from harlem to chinatown. he has to laugh.
the 6th floor hallway is carpeted in cigarette butts and shards of glass and piss and misery, rock-bottom regret, apathy of the take-a-walk-out-of-the-roof variety. the wallpaper is an eyesore from the 70s and the ceilings are crazy cracked. taking the lift is a game of russian roulette. more than one person has died in this floor alone. he knows because it was his finger on the trigger, and fuck, he hasn't bothered to scrub out the stains. the grifters, the killers, the whores: everyone here —everyone— has been forsaken by god.
and near is alone.
for a brief, ridiculous moment mello is fourteen again, filled with a gleeful kind of malice, hoping the crackheads across the hall walk out and see near in all of his freakish man-in-black, little gray alien glory. catnip for psychosis, and right on the money to boot. if mello squints just so, it looks as if near is trapped inside the fishbowl marble universe of his peephole.
“in military strategy,” near says, his voice a tuning silver fork that makes the hair on the back of mello’s head stand on end. it is deeper. more elegant. mello had noticed, earlier, when they’d been strangers in the same room with nothing in common but the race for kira’s head and five years worth of resentment. “to refuse diplomatic entrance to one’s territory would be considered a declaration of war.”
“we already accepted jesus into our hearts.”
inside his grimy spaceship, the corner of near’s mouth quirks for a flash of a kodak moment and then it is gone. glitch in the matrix. mello’s wolfteeth grin knocks painfully into the aluminum.
“and didn’t the lord say offer hospitality to one another without grumbling?”
1 peter 4:9. the verse just before reads: above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.
"nothing a couple dozen hail marys won't fix."
above them something shatters against the floor. a woman screams. a weight falls heavy on the floor and then there is silence. the ceiling snows dirty dust all over near’s shoulders like so much winter wonderland. the lights flicker and flicker.
neither of them say anything. mello watches. he can’t see you, he tells himself, feeling like the world's best and brightest buffoon. he's not fucking godtouched.
but near raises a hand to his rosy cherubim face, makes a circle with his thumb and index finger to squint through with one big ophanim eye.
watches the watcher.
“i will wait for sixty seconds.”
mello finds his gun. sticks it in the back of his pants. runs his hands through his hair. pulls his gun out, checks the mag. pops it in place. hesitates. checks it again. he was right the first time. it is empty. thirty eight, thirty seven.
L used to say, it’s a boundary, mello. explicit verbal communication of where the limits are. respecting it preserves the peace. you can choose to ignore it, but you should first know why. and you should be ready for the inevitable outcome.
but what this really is is this: near coming to him alone under cover of night, so naïve he might as well be wearing a neon sign that says mug me or kidnap me or worse! i'm a stupid little boy!; as far he can be from the safety of his prince’s tower all to give little old mello the pleasure a fucking ultimatum.
his blood simmers. his ears ring. his sympathetic nervous system betrays him only ever around near, and near's little sycophant butlers could be just out of sight. he could be here with a swat team and a warrant for his arrest. he could be here to let mello know he has once again taken from him the only thing that's ever made any damn sense in his life.
he tries to breathe through it. tries to weight his options. he tries to be more like L.
he fails.
four, three, two—
near turns to leave.
mello opens the door.
.
.
.
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a/n: hihi first post on this site anyway enjoy chiaki x fem reader smut (my chance to revive the danganronpa community is at low rn..)
my carrd if u wnna know more abt me > dun9eons.carrd
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summary: you make chiaki mess up on a level and she punishes you for it (im nasty like that..)
CW (18+): smut, cunnilingus, make-out, fingering, overstim, wlw
words: 3.0k
fuck up, make up
You 're playing a game on your phone, trying hard in those team games and yelling at your teammates, so what? They 're bad and you're obviously better than them. Silently cursing to yourself for your teammates mistakes, you got a notification on the top of your screen.
Your face moves closer to the screen for a better look to realize it was from your crush Chiaki. Chiaki? Why would she be messaging you now? You knew around this time she would be napping, but any how, you opened to message that reads;
“hi S/OOOOO, I just wanted to let you know if you could like come over to my dorm to hang out n stuff”
You started smiling at the screen in excitement, as you quickly typed back; “yeah ofc i can, js givr md a few minutes and ill be there!” You made typos along the way during type just a simple response, did Chiaki as your crush really affected your typing towards her? Jesus it’s pathetic. Your finger shook, leaning closer and closer to the send button, finally pressing it.
You got up from your bed, packing your phone, console, and your dorm keys. You head for the door, opening then leaving, walking to Chiaki’s dorm.
Chiaki’s house wasn’t far from yours, just a simple few minute walk from one side of the dorms to another.
You’re finally at her door, you knock a few times, Chiaki yawns, opening the door for you as she moves, making room for you to step inside.
“Hey, S/O…” She gives you a small wave, rubbing her eyes as she holds a video game console in the other hand. Already in her pajamas.
"H-Hi Chiaki..!" You stuttered, you cursed yourself silently, why did you stutter? Just the presence makes you shiver, but she’s not even scary, she's the opposite of scary, you guess that you have a crush on her, who wouldn’t be nervous around their crush?
Snapping out of your thoughts you wrapped your arms around her neck as you buried your face in the crook of her neck.
Chiaki jumps a little at your sudden gesture, her eyes widening in surprise for a moment before she relaxes and wraps her arms around you in return, gently rubbing your back.
"Hey, what's up? Are you alright?" She asks in a soft voice, her breath warm against your ear. "You came all this way to see me, so I'm happy you're here, but is everything okay?" She looks at you with concern, her blossom pink eyes searching for your answer.
You pulled back from the hug with a little worried look on your face.
“I’m fine, why?” You asked in a nervous tone, was it obvious that you look or act differently around Chiaki because she’s your crush? Who knows..
“Ah, sorry for assuming, you just look a little err.. Red?” Her hand reached up for your face, softly swiping off your hair from your forehead, as she planted the back of her hand onto your forehead.
“You’re kinda burning up S/O, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course I’m fine, don’t worry!” You instantly felt your face heating up and turning more redder, due to the contact and her basically calling you out.
“Alright alright..” Chiaki's brow raises she's skeptical but she leads you into her living room, setting down the video game console on the table.
"Alright, how about we play a game together and then maybe have some snacks? What do you think?" She asks, trying to make you comfortable and ease the tension.
“Yeah sure, I wouldn’t mind that.”
As you settle down on the couch, she turns on the console and selects a game for you both to play. Chiaki joins you on the couch, sitting close to you, you and her thighs brushing against each other lightly.
"Alright, here we go.." She says, starting the game. She's quite good at gaming, her fingers moving quickly on the controller, emitting soft grunts of concentration.
After a few rounds, you notice she's leaning closer to you, her body pressing against yours slightly. You can smell her light floral perfume mixed with a hint of vanilla. Your heart races faster as she focuses intently on the game.
You stole a few glances from her, noticing how cute she looked when she was tense and so concentrated on a game. You looked back onto the screen, looking on her side of the screen, you noticed that she was about to break a world record score.
It’s to the point you 're way too comfortable with each other, so you thought it was funny and fine to elbow Chiaki on the side, causing her to mess up.
The room was silent, until Chiaki finally spoke up.
“S/O what the hell? Why did you do that?” She said with a frustrated tone, “I was about to break the world record, oh my god..”
Realizing what you’ve done, you apologized frantically, “I-I’m so sorry Chiaki! It was just a prank I swear!”
“Prank? And you thought that was funny? S/O I swear..” She trailed off when she said the last word to her sentence, you tried brainstorming ideas on how Chiaki can forgive you, she was your crush, and your crush hating you was the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, so you finally spoke up.
“I’m so sorry Chiaki, I-I’ll do anything! Please just forgive me..” You pleaded desperately.
There was a minute of silence, you noticed a grin forming on Chiaki’s face, you knew what you said was very risky, but Chiaki wouldn’t go that type of risky right? Well, that's what you thought, until she spoke up.
“Anything? Are you sure you mean anything..?” She asked, leaning closer than usual.
Your breath hitched at the sight of Chiaki leaning in, your faces a few inches away from each other.
“Yes, anything! Just please forgive me, that's all I want..!” Your eyes stayed on the pillows of the couch you were sitting on, your body filled with guilt and nervousness, you kept thinking to yourself; what is she going to do to you?
(W: Anything past this part is 18+ if ur uncomfortable, please skip through)
“Well then, if you say anything.. Then you wouldn’t mind If i did this, right..?” She leans in closer, her lips barely brushing against yours, your heart was beating so fast, you couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, even if she was right in front of you.
Both of your lips we're now connected, her hand resting on the side of your cheek, it started of slow and a bit shy, then you eased into it, Chiaki’s tongue desperately asking for entrance in your mouth, you opened your lips a bit more wider for her tongue, she easily slipped inside, claiming all of your mouth with her tongue.
She was so aggressive with her kissing, you fell back on accident, all of your back resting on the couch pillows you were sitting on, and Chiaki on top of you. Her knee was slightly pushing in between your thighs, putting pressure on your sensitive area.
Both of you continued your passionate make-out, turning more needy every passing second, Chiaki then pulled her head back, looking down on you, still continuing to grind her knee against your sensitive area.
“Uhm.. Why’d you stop..?” You don’t even know why you asked this, you 're just so needy and lusting for more from Chiaki, you never knew she was good at these types of things, is it because of the dating sims she would play?
“Oh? You want more..?” She said, with a teasing smile, “I just have one more question for you S/O, then maybe I’ll give you some more.”
“Yes, o-of course..! What’s your question..?” You waited in anticipation with whatever question Chiaki would ask you.
“Well.. S/O, do you perhaps.. Like me..?” Your heart dropped at the question, how did she know? Was it really that obvious you like her? You wanted to just end yourself right then and there. “I’m sorry S/O, but you made it pretty clear you liked me, even when you came right at the door, you were so flustered and all red around me weren't you..?”
You took a deep breath before finally confessing, “Yes Chiaki, I’ve liked you for such a long time, I don’t even know how long, but I know that I love you dearly..”You finally realized what you said, you confessed to her, her on top of you, you can’t even tell if this is a good or bad situation to be in. You instantly bring both of your hands to your face, covering the growing blush, your eyes filling with tears and sliding down your cheek. Now you really wanted to end yourself.
“Oh S/O..” Chiaki noticed you were crying from the sniffling sounds you 're making, she gently took your hands off your face and rested a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears.
You used your sleeve to try wiping off the tears, along with Chiaki’s gentle care, you stopped crying, but that didn’t stop your sniffling and your flustered face.
“S/O, stop crying okay..? You didn’t even let me finish..” You wondered what she was going to say next, was she going to reject you? Accept your confession? Anything can happen.
“S/O, I’ve loved you for such a long time as well, as soon as my eyes landed onto yours, you were so perfect, so kind, so gentle..” Your face filled with a red color even more than before somehow, you couldn’t believe it, she liked you back. You were hers.
You didn’t even respond, but you put your hand on the back of Chiaki’s head, forcing her lips to connect with yours.
It was yet another aggressive make-out, making a few soft moans during it. God, you were so aroused, you didn’t care about anything but just her, the thought of you being hers increased your arousal significantly. Chiaki started kissing further down, to your cheek, and onto your neck and collarbone, making a few hickeys along the way.
Chiaki pulled back, she adjusted herself and was now sitting on top of your lap, admiring the marks she made on your neck and collarbone.
Her hand slowly rises up from her side, placing her hand on your chest.
“May I?” She asked, would you let her do such a thing? Her taking off your clothes? Yes. Yes you would.
You nodded frantically, just being more in need of Chiaki’s touch.
With your confirmation, she kept going, unbuttoning the uniform to your clothing, taking off your blazer, and your white sleeve top, tossing them on the floor. You couldn’t believe it, your bra was exposed to Chiaki’s view. You didn't even care anymore, you just wanted her to touch you right then and there.
She reached behind her, pulling the waistline of your skirt just a little lower than usual, showing the outline of your underwear.
She took her hand off your skirt, then continued her attention on your chest, with your bra still exposed to her view, she definitely wanted to see less than that, so she reached a hand behind your back, unclipping your bra, she then brings her hand back, pulling down your bra, now with your perky breasts to her view, nipples hardening to the cold air of the room.
It took her a minute, leaning in, teasingly licking the tip of your nipple, causing you to slightly twitch and your breath hitching. Without any warning, her mouth enveloped your nipple, her other hand slightly pinching and twisting your other nipple to further increase your arousal and sensations.
You let out a few whines and shaky breaths of pleasure, you could feel Chiaki smiling against your chest, she knew you were needy for her, she found it adorable.
As Chiaki was still busy with your chest, you could start feeling an awkward heat rising from the lower region of your body, you couldn’t believe you were enjoying it this much, you just confessed to Chiaki, made out, now having sex? It was like a dream come true.
But your thoughts came to a stop when she pulled her head back, you could feel her saliva traveling down your chest to your torso or down your ribs. She adjusted herself, now in between your legs.
Being left with no touch, you were squirming a lot, trying hard to create some sort of friction, but with Chiaki’s leg still in between your legs and teasing your sensitive area, she believed it was time for attention for a different area.
She pulled your skirt down and puts the middle of her finger, slightly pressing it on your damp panties, she giggled slightly, you were so wet, so aroused.
“S/O.. You’re so wet already, just from a little touching..” She teased, her fingers doing circle patterns on your panties, she could feel your clit pulsating in need.
“Shut up..” You whined, you wanted her to stop teasing you, and just touch you on the place where you needed her most.
She scoffed, playing with the waistline of your underwear, she gave you a look to keep on going or not. You nodded, and you felt her sliding your underwear down to your ankles.
She then cupped your pussy with her palm, feeling the warmth emanating from your needy pussy.
“Chiaki please..” You pleaded, you kept squirming, letting out a whimper, you really need her fingers inside you right now.
“So needy..” She mumbled, she then placed two fingers on your folds, opening them for a better view. She then stuck in one finger, pumping in and out of you, teasing you in such an annoyingly slow way.
It felt a bit uncomfortable at first, the first time both of you have ever had sex, so, she took it slow at the start, but a minute or two later, she gradually increased her speed, starting to become more aggressive and powerful, curling her fingers up with each thrust for that g-spot.
You arched your back off the couch, your chest heaving, the continuous moans and sobs you let out.
“Ngh..~ Aaahnn.. Ch-Chiaki..~!”
She then added a second finger onto the first one, which made you make even more noises, she leaned into your neck, her fingers still pumping in and out of you. She kissed everywhere on your neck and collar, leaving more hickies.
You desperately reach your arms out, hanging them onto Chiaki for dear life, the pain and pleasure you are enduring is so much, your nails are digging to the back of Chiaki’s skin.
“Ch-Aah.. Chiaki..! M-More pl-ngh.. Please~!” You choked out, barely getting the chance to form understandable sentences, it was pure gibberish.
“Mmmh.. Such a pillow princess..” She said, her hot breath against your ear, she did well putting you in such a lustful state, your mind was just nothing but blank but filled with lust and desire, all for Chiaki.
She added yet another finger, now making it three, the pure sensation of 3 fingers pumping in and out of you at such a fast pace made your eyes roll back.
You felt the knot in your stomach tighten even more from each thrust from her. You were so close, you needed to release.
“Chiaki.. I-I’m ngh..~ Gonna c-cum..” You muttered, signaling to Chiaki that you were close.
After Chiaki knew you were close, she went even rougher and faster. Not even a minute later, you finally released on her hand, your thighs spasming. You watched your cum slowly travel down to the couch’s surface and down your thigh.
You glanced up at Chiaki, she had most of the cum on her fingers and hand, she then reached her hand out towards your face, stretching her fingers to see the string of cum stuck in between.
“Never knew you could produce that much S/O..” She grinned.
You said nothing, you were busy desperately breathing for air, your chest heaving.
Chiaki then came back to her position, she looked like she had a thought to herself, not a good one at most, she was smiling in a way that you knew she was up to no good. She shifted lower, now her head in front of your dripping pussy. You instantly realized what she was doing.
“Wait Chiaki.. I can’t last another round..” You said, still breathing heavily from your first orgasm.
“Mmh.. You want my forgiveness right..?” She grinned an evil smile, she knew the power she had on you, you were so submissive to her. You couldn't do anything but just sigh and comply with her.She smiled innocently, prepping both of your legs on top of each of her shoulders for easier entrance and view. Your pussy was still dripping from your intense orgasm just bare minutes ago.
She planted kisses on your pussy. Her tongue teasing your entrance, flicking her tongue up, causing you to let out a whimper.
She then plunged her tongue in, exploring and expanding your walls. The sensation of her tongue just flicking inside you rapidly made you scream. You already felt another orgasm coming, and it was only one or two minutes since she started. You needed to release again, it was starting to become painful, yet still pleasuring.
“Chiaki.. I-I’m! Going to cum a-again..~!” You mewled out, your moans being mixed with sobs, you couldn’t take it anymore. You really needed release.
And with that, a minute later goes by, and you finally cum, producing even more than before. Chiaki carefully placed down your legs on the couch again, licking your sweet cum off her fingers.
“You did so well for me S/O, is this a warning that you don't mess me up again..?”
“Of course..”
i wish chiaki could do tht to me irl istg
for anyone who wants the link of the photo i used for the > banner <
#🦇 - written by dun9eons#dun9eons - sdr2#chiaki nanami#chiaki nanami x reader#chiaki x reader#wlw post#wlw#chiaki smut#fem reader#fem bottom#character dom#danganronpa#lemon#smut#reader bottom#super danganronpa 2#super danganronpa goodbye despair#fanfic#oneshot
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD okay.
so i watched the 8 hour jack stream(jesus) aka watched genloss top to bottom again and listened to his theories and stuff(i really vibe with the "kidnapped as kids" angle more now) and started thinking about some theories he and chat mentioned and.
now im thinking with like. ok its probably a pretty common theory, this post was what prompted this additional idea of mine actually, but ill explain it a bit:
the theory that, since sneeg and charlie can come back over and over again, and they have referenced like, refusing to do the cooking challenge in ep 1, and how charlie was playing the mouse trap but ate the cage, they have obviously done the same kind of scenes we saw ranboo do, right. and then in the Announcement video we see the same kind of "missing poster" type headshots of them, with the caption "Found them!"
i dont remember exactly where it was confirmed that showfall made the missing person posters, but like. yeah. these images are for missing posters like ranboo had.
and with sneeg being caught by the security in ep 3, he had tried to escape, just like ranboo and charlie. and i feel like this wasnt the first or last time they have tried this!
also, during that screenshot the announcer says "our hero will meet a cast of crazy characters, who you may recognize", aka the audience has seen these "actors" before in other things! this is their first live show but what have they made before...?
then, with one of the Very first lines Ranboo says in the first episode, "it wasn't supposed to be like this"... showfall/hetch made it seem like this is ranboos first show and he's being tested for how well he does as The Hero.
I dont think what we saw is Ranboos first time starring in a showfall production.
its the first live thing like the announcement video said but i think hetch lied when he talked about how its a test, i think Ranboo's been here at least a few go arounds, if not tens/hundreds/thousands of times.
WHICH MEANS in the end when he gets his memories back... theres an infinite amount of possibility of things they could remember for what they have been made to do in the past :)
Bc remember, while this is comedy->horror, it was still relatively tame and non-explicit (at least by my personal standards?) so it is quite possible they have been in more R rated horror stuff, slashers, gore, actual saw, some kind of even worse psychological horror things, but also that they might have had incredibly good experiences like love and joy and community and anything positive too, and to remember all that in a rush... oh boy
so i believe it is a circular reproduction, maybe they run through scenes repeatedly over and over while perfecting every little detail and getting different takes of genuine emotion but every time Real and a First experience... some kind of purgatory(omg christian hell reference) or endless torture or such...
ok that got really maybe unneccessarily angsty so heres my other thought:
i love me a fucking colour theory and colour symbolism! it bothered me a bit how like. in the promo game we get ranboo, then green friend/the villain(obviously charlie, tho the villain part still confuses me a Bit since its not quite true?), the blue friend/the taken(obvs sneeg) and then the red stranger/the saviour. and like it would logically follow that the red is hetch right?
jack when theorising said the titles are self descriptive, which i buy into, at least for the first episode context, charlie is the villain role, sneeg was taken(put in a cage and later snatched by the sharkciclester), and hetch was trying to help and save ranboo from this situation! but then in the second ep we also have red puzzler, and red niki? i WISH niki had. any kind of bigger role to build a Saviour type off of her but i dont think she does :( the puzzler is an option, since they make it seem like the puzzler tries to save ranboo? and thats actually a whole other thought like. since we know hetch was not actually helping ranboo, was the puzzler Genuinely helping them, and somehow showfall found out and killed him?? idk
ANYWAYS that colour coding falling apart a bit made me think about how ranboo is also red!! rgb trio yknow??
if the titles are self descriptive... well i dont think Ranboo really felt like The Hero much, especcially not in the end...
I think Ranboo is actually meant to be the Saviour.
Esp with the jesus coding!
I believe this kind of thing has happened many times before, with sneeg/charlie/ranboo/others realizing that shits fucked, and trying to escape, only to be caught and put back in the production. I think Ranboo(main character syndrome) was in a previous iteration the Saviour, who tried to help sneeg and charlie and others get out of there, to save them, save everyone. but they failed. got captured. once again waking up again with a "it wasn't supposed to be like this..."
and so the cycle continues, and the content wheel keeps spinning.
(ive only been in tumblr tags so feel free to link me any other ppl who arrived at the same conclusion)
#if you actually read to the end of this somehow ily take a cookie#this is giving me prologue/au ideas so i wanted to type it out to anyone who wants inspiration or smth#generation loss#genloss#ranboo#ranboolive#generation loss the social experiments#genloss meta#genloss theory#genloss au#bear.txt#i am bearpat#this post took so long bc i keep having more ideas but adding them all would make this even more incomprehensible i gotta stick to a thesis
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founders of eden fake tumblr posts
kind of long so im putting it under a cut
🍎 brainworm9 Follow
Every time I see an article on this I lose my mind a little bit more. For the last fucking time. The sinkholes in Japan do not give you cancer. They don't. That's a rumour and it was debunked 6 years ago. Why do I keep seeing posts about how no one wants to torte to Japan because they'll get cancer are you guys just stupid. Also we are right next to El Salvador and they have sinkholes too but no one talks about el Salvador ooohh nooo it's just Japan Japan Japan don't go to Japan youll get cancer ooooooohhhhhhh
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🌠 jacquie-dearest Follow
of course i have to be a serial monogamist who years for marriage. why does nothing ever work out for me. and i cant even blame my transition because i got more game as a woman so. are all my relationships just destined to fizzle out? am i doomed to be alone forever? doomed to wander alone as never-happy-jacquie...
💄killyourcreator Follow
^33 years old BTW
🌠 jacquie-dearest Follow
i forgot to make my post unrebloggable also youre going to the scrapyard if you pull this shit again
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✝️ bianca-neve Follow
Why does no one believe I can see into the future when I tell them I can? Not even the religious people believe me immediately. What happened to faith guys? You all pray to Saint Kauhane but you can't believe that I have the same ability as him?
#ok I guess yousef is fine because hes muslim and they dont pray to kauhane but this is still very frustrating.
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🫁 y-ousef Follow
Neo-Catholics continue to be the most annoying group of people on Exodus. We love historical revisionism. Shit in my hands and clap
🫁 y-ousef Follow
Sometimes I still miss my ex-wife because I could complain about this with her and not alone in my apartment talking to myself as if i were possessed
#i should delete this post
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🇸🇪 stefansohlman Follow
And this is just one of the many things they took from us.
🗺️ historyfan28 Follow
What kind of faggy ass shit is this that is a furniture corporation it's not even like the fucking stockholms slott or whatever
Also I reported your account 18 times
🇸🇪 stefansohlman Follow
Ignore my son, he is "Schizoposting"
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🪓 the-manila-shakers-deactivated2412 Follow
We would like to address the false claims that we are a "cult." Members are allowed to leave at any time and all who join our group do so out of their own free will. We Manila Shakers do not believe in extortion.
🌠 jacquie-dearest Follow
i believe you john mark but aren't you guys supposed to be off the grid and not have social media theoretically
🪓the-manila-shakers-deactivated2412 Follow
You're right. Will delete the account
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💄killyourcreator Follow
Want to start a support group for ex-sexbots but when I try to use another site to make a community post it has this thing called a "captcha" and I can't seem to figure out the answer to it.
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🗺️ historyfan28 Follow
Hes like five foot six and he got franz ferdinand's death mixed up with whitney houston's death and he said he didnt know who whitney houston was and I desire him carnally on a level beyond human comprehension im like idiotsexual morosexual. Stupidosexual as it were
🍎 brainworm9 Follow
How am I the stupid one when I'm the third youngest nwg medical division member in history and you're unemployed
🗺️ historyfan28 Follow
Jesus christ how did you find me
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ALL im saying is if u gave me fuck u money i'd write a fanfic where, for some reason i will come up w later, katniss doesn't/can't volunteer for prim during the reaping.
so we get prim and peeta in the hunger games, hamish and effie coaching them as best they can. and prim is, ofc tiny and scared and like. 11 or whatever (i forgor ages), and peeta is like ":) ok new plan: make sure katniss gets her little sister back!" meanwhile hamish is like "do i even know a kind of self defense that works for someone the size of perhaps a small potato or large hamster????" and effie is like "oh dear lord. oh jesus. she's just solidly gonna die huh??? oh god i need a career change???" and prim, after the shock has worn off, is like "oh shit i have a sister (and mom ig) to get back to. i gotta live thru this."
so prim is like solidly understanding she's not winning against careers in combat. she focuses on any other skill she can get-- medicine to patch herself up, camouflage from peeta, shmoozing for sympathy points (with incredible success, bc she knows who she is and what she looks like), and once she meets the other tributes she manages to worm some useful info on a few things out of a few other tributes who r like "oh poor thing won't survive the cornucopia" and, most notably, she becomes besties w rue.
and so peeta plays his angle of "i just wanna get back to the girl i love uwu," but doesn't bring prim into it as katniss's sister v much bc he knows that would put a target on her back, he instead paints himself as this big ol' sap that'll be easy pickings (if you can find him) so it looks like district 12 just spat out some softies this year (everyone back home is preemptively mourning). maybe he drops one line abt "i will do anything to get prim home safe" w kinda a looking-directly-into-the-camera-kubrick-stare moment.
meanwhile prim is like "rue. bestie. it might be great for us to play our friendship to the camera a bunch? for ratings?? ppl send us things for free??" and rue is like "aight sure yea lets do it" so they do it-- and if my lesbian ass has her way maybe they have little tiny baby crushes and like. hold hands or somn. idk ceasar would play it up and soon we've got the whole capitol like 'THE BABIES OH GAWD NO' and so the star-crossed lovers thing still happens, but with prim and rue. the capitol loses it's shit, bc they're on the way younger side, with baby faces, who have been playing up how tiny and defenseless they are to anyone who will listen for clout and donations.
with a push from peeta/haymitch/effie, ceasar's little-babies-who-will-never-even-get-to-be-fully-in-love-bc-there's-no-way-they're-surviving-the-next-24-hours shtick for prim/rue gets spun wildly out of control before the games even start and suddenly the capitol is demanding the games be called off since "so many of them are so young!" at most extreme, or wondering if the minimum age for the hunger games isn't too young at most moderate.
district 13 was not ready for such a prime revolution moment to happen so quick, but they make the best of it in a somewhat disorganized way. They sway public opinion into spinning this story up, up, and away from capitol control, which eventually (through difficult to succinctly summarize PR bullshit) has everyone calling for snow to step down, and he can't very well use the cattleprods on the supposed upper crust, can he? not when every other district is already twitching for an excuse to revolt and has been for a while. so he 'gracefully' steps down (repercussions to be written in fic). district 13 is like damn they r fr handing us this one wtf.
coin(? i forgor names lol) is just barely too slow to neatly slot herself into power, bc now the capitol+districts is like "WE should get a say *insert democracy/anarcho-communism/republicanism/alt-govt.png*" idk maybe panem fractures into smaller govts that stop being affiliated w one country idk. i havent written the fic yet bc i dont have fuck u money.
what i DO know is katniss is honestly too involved in watching the games and subsequent bullshit to notice gale breathing, and peeta comes home w prim who is like 'can we go visit rue in the spring?' and katniss is like '....... u just restructured the govt...... sure yea wtvr' and peeta goes back to pining bc i just dont think he knows how to make a move when not on a death-related timeclock. maybe prim throws him a bone and wingmans him in there.
#i have not read the books disclaimer#but this idea lives rent free in my head#but to do a lot of it (ie the hard to succinctly summarize PR bullshit) justice it would need to be 70k+ and i cannot justify doing that#without a money cushion#anyway sign up for my substack#hunger games#fanfiction
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The patience I don't have is being tested, Jesus take the wheel
So, all that accusations just to say you disagree with my take???
Good grief- I can't read beyond your disrespect, delusions and accusations. "You shaming him cos you feel someway about his hair" Do you think may be that could have been the barrier to your communication?
Or you thought that was gonna fly over mi head?
You can't make unfounded allegations against people and expect them not to respond to it are you dumb?
Me, I see your disrespect and I raise you cusses and bruises and emotional damages. It's just the way it is.
Then you went and said I act like I know Jungkook personally- while also explaining to me how he's different on stage and off stage and how he has an IDAF attitude...
Question: are you his Aunt? Mother? Or the dude that suck his dick at night?
No? Then shut the fuck up telling me what he is or isn't. You don't know him personally EEEEEEEDA
As for name-calling please let's play that game. I BEG YOU. I'M ITCHING TO SAY A FEW WORDS.
Come at me find out just how immature I can be🥺
The disrespect aside, your opinion is totally valid and I agree with some of your takes. While I don't know Jungkook personally anyone with a functioning brain and who has been in this Fandom for a day CAN TELL he has an independent devil may care streak.
I was actually one of the few bloggers out here who pointed this out at a time where Jungkook's public persona wasn't as overtly brazen.
I pointed out years ago when he started asserting himself within the group and breaking away from the confines of the members' expectations.
You are seeing this IDAF attitude 2plus years ago, I'm seeing this all the way back to debut. He's always been this person but go on you tell me about it Jungkook's Auntie🙄 😒 😑
"Him giving a fuck about his hair has nothing to do with his shyness" it might be my lack of comprehension skills but I don't understand what you mean💀
Bottom line is, you and I were not there and we are both not him. We both can only speculate on why he's shy. And even though I don't know what your take is exactly on why you think he was shy- it's valid. You do you boo.
If you don't mind sharing it with the class- I would like to read it though 💀
I just don't know why this is such a big deal to you💀
Sometimes I wear things that are edgy and out there when I be on my boss chick shit channeling Lady Gaga until I walk into the office and every one is staring and suddenly the wind blows over my back and I wish I had more fabric covering my butt cheeks.
Jimin laughed at himself for posting his long hair
And I laughed my ass off out here and said the same thing about him making fun of himself because of his hair because he knows it breaks the gender norms and some people will judge.
And yes he got dragged for it too by some people.
I came out here and celebrated that moment as a win for us because I love when BTS do gay shit or gender bending shit so why the fuck would Jungkook wearing his hair long set me off?
Why? Because I love it so much when people conform to tradition and societal norms?
Not only are you assuming things about me you were falsely accusing me of something every one and their mother out here knows is false and when I set the record straight on you you turned around and called me a liar and told me I was backpeddling.
It's bizarre when you people do that shit. So bizarre. It's okay to be wrong you know? Especially about people you think badly off. Because we are not living in your delusions.
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𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙 !✧ —repost, don't reblog !
NAME: modorelin farllee ! farllee is the shorthand btw & what i preferred to be called. however i did go by a different penname when i originally made min/ako but that's irrelevant now.
PRONOUNS: he/they
PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: tumblr im ! at least at first. i don't mind discord but i rather make some sort of connection or have at least a small convo before we share discs
NAME OF MUSE(s): aris.ato minak.o( @foolshoujo ) / arisa.to m.inato( @foolshonen ) / kurus.u a.kira( @foucoeur ) / & im shea( @gracifleur )
BEST EXPERIENCE: hahahhaaa i've been around specifically in the rpc scene since about 2012 ? sorta, i did make a personal tumblr around 2011 first then dipped into this side after seeing one could actually rp here. so i've had many fantastic experiences & many terrible experiences, but all of them good or bad are honestly kept close to my heart. i will say coming back to the purseowner sphere has been utterly delightful & im so glad i returned after all this time !
RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS: the usual ? stealing, needless drama, forceshipping, etc etc. i tend to be very vocal about things i dislike as a way to consistently share my boundaries on what is ok & not okay with me. communication is key for me, esp being autistic. i hate being misunderstood esp when something simple can be worked out. i tend to cut folks easily from my space if folks tend to just not want to be adults & settle things, taking one side only. i kno theres a lot of ppl who assume a lot of me but honestly the biggest thing is thing is that lack of communication, i am just a meme behind these graphics n 89r723word meta posts i prommy LOL
MUSE PREFERENCES: i prefer to write masc characters honestly, shocking considering min/ako is my main & who i have the most muse for but for writing with i have zero preference. gender, morality, human or creature it doesn't matter. i try to stay flexible as a writer to be able to attempt to write with my moots as best we can. i also don't have qualms against non-video game or anime characters, i have a irl faceclaim for a reason.
PLOTS OR MEMES: plots for threads, memes/inbox for simple stuff. i like plotting & working on character development behind the scenes so that when we thread all the ' getting to know each other ' is out of the way.
LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i am not built for short replies. sowwie oneliner fans. i can't do it anymore hAHah
BEST TIME TO WRITE: i prefer at night but we can't always get what we want huh ? so morning to daytime est for me atm.
ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): jesus fucking christ i hope not i never wanna be a teenager or, no offense my rpc peers, in my early 20s ever again thanks. that slight joke aside, no i don't tend to put much of myself into my muses esp when they are protags where they bridge the line of semi oc semi canon character. even my ocs the most i tend to put in from me, persay, is like my eye color like it's a signature lmao. i do not need to relate to a character to write them or explore development in them, i don't need to add traits from myself to like bridge some gap between reality & fictional boundaries. not that i'm shaming anyone who does or needs to to write their muse, i just don't. i've never really been that type of person is all lmao.
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Another Rant. More Like A Response.
So I was going to make a video about this because I have a lot to say. But I realized that the stutter I thought I had gotten rid of Freshman years comes out heavily if I'm pissed, which I currently am, so I'll just save use the headache and type this out.
Also tagging @apexious cuz they wanted to see this.
Look. I could totally tag people. I could name names. But I'm not going to. Because at this point everyone has probably either seen this post or knows who this person is. And goddamn do I have a lot to say about them.
Number 1: If you're gonna call me out call me out bestie. Coming after me for a post I made expressing discomfort at a NSFW self ship is fine and all, but then you go ahead and say stuff like "adult people can have adult thoughts about other adults" when my post was referring to a fanfic written by a KID? Get your facts straight before you say anything that's public. Here's the thing, was my post in poor taste? Quite possibly. Was there an adult way to handle it and get the results you wanted? Oh yeah. Did you do the adult thing? Nope! Instead of either A. taking it to a private message and explaining what was wrong or B. making a respectful post that highlighted what was wrong in a mature way, you made a disrespectful, arrogant, self righteous post bashing an entire fanbase despite the fact that only a few people were at large. So now, instead of placing the responsibility of accountable parties, which I would have been included in, and allowing to own up and apologize, you have now not only included yourself into the problem, but also blown the problem wayyyy out of proportion. May I remind you that we are a fairly tiny fandom based on a video game directed at children? I've been playing since 2012, so believe me when I say these games have come a long way. Hell, these characters now in fanfics didn't have names until The Traveler season happened. Remember the days of referring to characters as "the coach from One Kiss" or "Jessy's guy in Swish Swish" or "P1 in Lean On"? Yeah, that was surprisingly not that long ago. So it is responsible to believe that the concept of NSFW or self shipping in a fandom is relatively new to us. Shit, we are not going to act like a normal fandom! This fandom is very different then others, so if we make a mistake like bagging on things that are all normal in other fandoms, then be fucking patient! Call it out in a respectable way, and let us fix it! We always do!
Next, the other problems you discussed? Are they currently in the room with us? I have not seen these problems like, at all. There is no mass shitting on people who have comfort characters. People who fetishsize and disrespect characters? Hell yeah (we took care of people like youngjackissohot and others), but not genuine comfort/kinny characters. The vast majority of us have a comfort character and that's why we are in this fucking community in the first place! Maybe i'm just blind as a bat, but I have not seen anyone tear apart anyone watching maps on Youtube. Bitch, most of us don't have a Switch so those maps on Youtube are our saving grace to stay in this community. Is this happening on another site, like Reddit or Twitter? Cuz if so maybe you should have gone and bitched to them instead of complain on here.
And you don't think we should benefit from your presence in this community? Ok Jesus, sorry you're leaving! Seriously though, while I appreciate everyone in this community and think you make an impact no matter how big it is, this is a classic case of "someone got a little too big for their britches". Sure, we hate to see you go. But like you said, you haven't been active since Lover Coaster (which you couldn't even remember the name of btw-how in the absolute fuck are you going to get involved with Fandom matters if you can't even name the last season you remember?) and we all survived without you. So don't pretend all of a sudden you're some hotshot celebrity whose mere absence in this community will affect anything. I have a few good fics that I am updating frequently that I know people will enjoy, and I've active for a good while, but I know if I fell of the face of the earth right now my absence in the fandom won't cause any major issues. Get a reality check.
Lastly, you're dealing with a fandom here. A group of humans who are all flawed and all make mistakes and all have their moments. If you're not happy with the ugly sides of that, then I'm sorry but you don't deserve to benefit from the many good sides. We are by far the least problematic fandom I have so far heard of. For the most part, we are kind to each other and care for each other and we love each other. If we make mistakes we make sure to fix them and then we carry on. If you have a problem with us not always getting along and us sometimes having our moments then don't let the door hit you on the way out.
I'm sorry you have to see this side of me, but come after this family and call us nothing more than a group of fucking assholes and see what happens next bitch. Cuz next time I won't hesitate to nane names.
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Transphobia warning
I'm subbed to a smaller cooking channel that does fun content based on cook books like video game ones. He made a harry potter one. People trying to simply explain the harm of it got harassed by comments and threatened. I'm just feeling kind of defeated right now, he seemed like a cool enough guy with just fun content but his community was ready and willing to be so vile to us. His comments told him to do it against the "bullying" (bullying refering to people simply explaining to not give harry potter more attention), calling trans people commies, calling them groomers, and spamming "chronically online" constantly. jesus christ i just like the fun cooking content, how can a community that started from a guy remaking recepies become so dangerously toxic. The originally posted it on his community post as a teaser where this went down, and he didnt adress the hate, he just posted the video a few days later (which is when i found out about this) where he simply said in the comments that he gets its a heated topic but also "you dont have to watch if you dont like it, that's ok!"
Your community is telling trans people all these awful things and THAT'S all you can say? That WE just need to leave? Fucking hate youtubers man 💀
Submitted February 19, 2023
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