#I'm doing what I can to stay positive right now because real life is shit

[kindnessoverperfection]

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

#actuallynpd #signal boost #actuallyautistic #mental health awareness #narcissistic personality disorder #people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias #(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar #mentally ill or otherwise ND) #the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there' #no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo #anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that #he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful #misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included #several personality disorders. one of which was NPD. #and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and #he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he #was glad he did #fun times #or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to #support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma #bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me #trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them. #again..... fun times

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

#mcflymemes #life is strange #life is strange memes #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #thank you to ismelodrama for suggesting this!!!!!

[hacked-by-jake]

Shit rambling because I need it okay? Personal shit and kinda moonvale rambling. You don't have to read it. And warning, my words are probably a mess and this post is weird so.. I'm sorry xD

I don’t want to lie, I have zero capacity for the Moonvale posts right now. There's so much shit going on and the posts don’t really hype me up. I mean, I so glad they are active currently but otherwise.. Wah, I don’t know. I need the date. Like really. Not jokingly or anything, I need it to feel some kind of excitement again. And I don't know, I don’t even feel like posting the updates here, my head can't manage to do that. I'm glad other people do it. And I also don't manage to bring out some kind of duskwood shit post or anything. I know no one is forcing me to posts here but I feel like I have to anyway. This blog has many followers, I guess it's not a secret, so I kinda feel like I have to keep it going. And the thing is, I want to keep it going, but as I said, my capacity is like zero.

And the biggest shit. I have to finally submit to the psychiatry. And beside all other struggles that keep me away from finally sending it, Moonvale is in its way as well. I feel like I can't submit there when I don't know when moonvale will be released. Sounds weird, I know, but it's a real thing, trust me. So, Everbyte, please, tell us something. xD

Also, I get sick when I think about I might not be able to play episodes because I'm sitting in a psych ward and have other things to do. So I pray I will be lucky enough and the episodes will come out before and after my little vacation there. But as you see, I didn't even submit there but I'm still trying to plan Moonvale around it.

When I'm not just lying around in my bed I'm positing on Tumblr so it's kinda the only "obligation" I have. Don't take the word too seriously. As I said, I now I'm not obligated to post here. But for myself, and in my own head, I feel this way. I spent so much time here and I was allowed to build up this blog about a game I like and I want to keep it up. And want to stay here and to post and to be the blogger and the blog I used to be. For many a source to talk about the game/s and to ramble and send theories etc. And I want it to stay this way. For myself and for you all. Besides the love you all send me so often is a huge part of positivity in my life. Almost the only source of positivity I have. And I won't lie, missing this would also be a huge loss for me. I don't want it to sound like you have to send me love or anything. Please don't keep it this way. And I also don't want it to sound like I want this love. I post here to get my thoughts about duskwood out of my head. But I can't deny that it's a nice side effect. And I mean, wonderful. It makes me feel happy and loved and I fear to miss it at some point.

But really, if you read this here, don't feel like you have to tell me things like "we will always love you here" etc. It's very kind and lovely. But I think all those things are a problem in my head so, I don’t know.

Gosh, this post is weird, I know. But these thoughts are bothering me a lot and I was holding all of this back since a few weeks already so I'm going to just ramble the shit out now. Nobody has to read it or react. But this is a reminder to myself, it's my blog and I can post what I want. You can do it, girl. 💪

And I think getting this out into the void might calm my mind a bit.

I probably have more to ramble about but I think right now I forgot it. Anyway. If you read it, thank you. And I hope you will have a fantastic day/evening/night. And especially a amazing new week. You're doing wonderful and you deserve love. 💚

Thank you all for everything, seriously. 💚

OK bye 🫣

#hbj talks #rambles #like really rambling xD #not dw #might delete later #sorry for the weirdness xD #This is probably written during a small dissociation not gonna lie XD #but I'm kinda sick of not daring to talk freely about such things

[phoenixonwheels]

The ~discourse~ around the term cripple punk is so wild to me bcs from what I've seen the people arguing that it includes mental illnesses/disabilities are mentally ill people who are ALSO physically disabled explaining from experience that not only are mental illnesses oftentimes disabling in exactly the same way physical disabilities are, but that trying to draw a hard line between "physical" and "mental" conditions is reductive and unhelpful in terms of actually accommodating us and understanding our conditions, especially given that both have so much overlap that it's hard to distinguish what's coming from where in the first place. Like when I'm having a bad enough depressive episode I feel real, physical pain in my chest that's so bad I can hardly stand up, and the accommodations that help me when my hEDS or POTs is making it hard to stand help when it's the depression instead. And yet I'm supposed to believe these two things are completely different, 100% of the time, no exceptions?? Plus like, idk every time I see people argue that mental conditions are somehow different from physical ones it just reminds me of how often doctors will brush aside the physical symptoms of my mental illnesses bcs they're "all in my head" despite how much I'm clearly suffering. For me so much of learning to live with stuff like my bipolar and adhd is unlearning the idea that my brain is like, a separate entity from my body, and accepting that the physical stuff I'm feeling shouldn't be dismissed just bcs it's caused by my brain and not like, my POTs or hEDS. For so often I've seen positivity posts talking about how mental conditions do physically affect people and understanding and accepting that is important, it's wild to see a group that should be on top of that sort of thing fumble it so badly.

And god, so much of the world is already against disabled people, getting mad that the "wrong" disabled people are using the term cripple punk while society does everything in its power to make life impossible for us feels like we're just doing their work for them. We should stand united in our very much shared struggle instead of desperately trying to shove everyone in separate boxes and make sure they stay there, insisting that we have nothing in common and could never share a community. We have everything in common and we need to stand together, now more than ever.

All of this! And also it’s clearly never occurred to them that a huge percentage of the medical gaslighting we’ve all experienced is having doctors blow off our physical disabilities and illnesses by claiming we’re mentally ill. Gee hmm I wonder why that is? Could it be that mental illnesses and disabilities are even more discriminated against than physical illnesses and disabilities? And if we all fight together for respect and rights for people with all types of disabilities and disorders we all benefit?

This shit is absolutely wild to me. And it leads to things like people yelling at me - an actual wheelchair user who is currently mostly bedbound - that I hate cripples and am somehow trying to “steal cripple privilege” and insert myself undeservingly into “cripple spaces” because I refuse to join them in their bigotry against mentally ill and mentally disabled people.

MERDs are to the Cripple Punk and disability rights movements what TERFs are to feminism and the queer rights movement. They’re dragging us back decades.

*MERD: mental-exclusionary radical disabled

#cripple punk #CripplePunk #CPunk #cpunk discourse #disability #actually disabled #MERDs #exclusionists

[laracrofted]

I LIVE for positivity night, so thank you for hosting one 🥹

First and foremost, I am absolutely in love with Baby, I’m High Octane and am so excited for any future updates! It’s phenomenal and I devour every word you give us!

@hangmansgbaby is my platonic soulmate, the sharer of my brain cell, and my very best friend. We’ve been through some shit together 😅 but I couldn’t be more grateful that we’ve stayed as close as we are! I fell in love with her Always, Darling Jake series over a year ago (what?!) and have continually fallen for every single story she writes! Pucking Finally, a Javy x Nat hockey fic, is incredible and I CANNOT WAIT for yall to get to read Royally Pucked (the Jake x OC!!!! next story). It’s amazing. As is You Burn With Us, a Hunger Games x TGM crossover. I don’t have words for how good all of her writing is, but I can absolutely tell you they deserve all the love and praise in the world! Gbaby, I love you with my whole heart! 💕

@sarahsmi13s is another one of my early days babies! I’m so grateful for her friendship and always being happy to have me bounce ideas off of her! She also has SO MANY incredible series that are underrated. We bonded over my love for her Tell Them series and I absolutely latched onto J&S immediately after. I love you, Vin!

@roosterforme has been such a kind, loving, and supportive friend in the whole time I’ve known her! I’m wholeheartedly obsessed with Adult Education and almost had a heart attack when the queen Bradshaw Baddie™️ wrote a Jake fic! She also went and made me fall in love with a Bradley in Old Habits Die Hard. Beer Boy and Sugar FOR LIFE

@thedroneranger has been a sheer force of positivity through so many things! I’m so thankful that I’ve made a friend in Jay and that she loves GP as much as I do 😂. The To-Do List is one of my all time favorite series and was a huge inspiration for how I structured The Honeyverse! Coffin Cuddler™️ till the end of time

@trickphotography2 has been a supporter for quite a while now and I so enjoy all of our conversations! Her D-Day & Tis The Damn Season series have me in absolute chokehold and I pester the hell out of her regularly for little sneak peaks 😉

@callsigncurse is a new friend and I ADORE her! Snow is such a precious nugget and I’m so happy we found each other. Her Evergreen Falls series is absolute magic and yall should keep an eye out for it 😍

@aviatorobsessed ANDY. My sweet lovey! I live for her comments on my fics AND our conversations. I’m so happy we’ve gotten to be better friends and notifications from you make my heart so happy!

@teacupsandtopgun BETHHHHH. Beth is the best with the most thoughtful comments on everything and is honestly such a sweet soul! I’m fully hooked on Jake & Flick and still come back for more pain because it’s SO DAMN GOOD. Also, Beth’s moodboards are STUNNING and I swoon over them every time.

@seresinhangmanjake holy moly, I am so in love with the Oh, Baby! and The One I Want series she has. Her words paint a stunning scene and I always feel like I’m right in the middle of it!

@ohtobeleah is currently murdering my feelings with Was It Over? It’s so raw and real and emotional and my heart breaks more with every chapter. I also adore I.R.I.S and will forever love her badassery! I’m looking forward to getting to know her better in the new year!

@na-ta-sh-aa I honest to God teared up over your sweet submission and want to frame it!

To my newest friends @dizzybee03 @jynxmirage @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @taytaylala12 @capoteera @hookslove1592 :

I could not imagine writing without yall! Your kind words, screeching at me in reblogs or DMs and overall support make me smile so big that my face hurts! I’m so thankful y’all are always happy to let me bounce ideas off of you and encourage me when I’m struggling. I’m sure I’ve missed a few of my nuggets, but I love them all so much 💕

you've been such an incredible supporter of baby, i'm high octane, and i'm so grateful for your feedback and your kind words. happy new year! 🤍

end of the year positivity night 💌

#end of the year celly

[weezly14]

so i'm not going to respond to any individual asks - this is the blanket response to all the asks i've gotten in the past few weeks asking me when i'm going to update my WIPs, if i've abandoned them, etc. i appreciate the love, i do. i miss dust to dust, and something good and right and real, and i wanna be your boyfriend, too.

i might regret being this honest later, but fuck it, it's my blog and not enough people talk about this shit.

i'm struggling with infertility. emphasis on the struggle. i'm weepy from fertility meds, in the midst of my first treatment cycle, half hope and half fear. we're "unexplained infertility," so there's no reason why it shouldn't work, except it hasn't so far, so hope feels like a dangerous thing.

for anyone who hasn't experienced this, it's a complete and total mindfuck. i don't feel like the same person i was a year ago, before all those negative pregnancy tests. i thought i'd have a baby by now, or at least be pregnant. instead, i have a shitty not even diagnosis, and Options that are both a blessing but also invasive, and expensive, and in no way a guarantee. every month i calculate when the due date would be; think about the events we have planned for next year in terms of where i could be in a pregnancy; and every month, my period arrives right on schedule, if not a day early. i have yet to see a positive pregnancy test. it's "only" been a year, and i'm "so young," but it feels like it's been ages and like i'm running out of time.

we've been forced to have conversations about money, about how far we want to go with treatment, about when we might call it. "it's too early to think about that," you might say, but one cycle of ivf could cost $16k. we have good insurance, but are we willing to undergo more than one egg retrieval? how many failed transfers before we decide the emotional toll is too high? it's better to have those conversations now, before we have to, when we can maybe make clearer decisions. would we consider donor eggs or sperm? surrogacy? what about adoption?

meanwhile, i'm watching friends and acquaintances get pregnant with no problem, as i try not to completely isolate myself and try to track ovulation, as though timing might be the problem.

(it's not.)

i'm not the person i was before all of this, and it sucks. i'm a sadder, smaller person, i think. i'm trying my best. i'm "practicing hope" or some shit, i'm doing my best to keep my head up and stop isolating, stop avoiding my pregnant best friend, stop wallowing in the grief. because it is grief. if i get pregnant, it will be because of fertility meds and doctors, it will happen in a sterile exam room, hopefully with my husband holding my hand, if he can get the time off work. there will be no spontaneous pregnancy, no surprise. there's grief in that, in letting go of what i thought this might be like, how i thought it might go.

so yes, writing fic has fallen by the wayside. not because i want it to. i just have a hard time finding the energy to do even fun things. i miss the person who could write a lot in short spans of time, who had the energy for fic. i'd like to believe i can still be that person again. i don't consider any of those fics abandoned. i've written, i've worked on things.

but, right now, it feels like my entire life, my entire being, is consumed with this struggle to get pregnant. like my life is measured by where i am in my cycle. i look at my calendar and think, that's when i'll get my period or a positive test, so i should be mindful in what i plan. i might be very happy, or i might have a very bad day.

sometimes, the bad days feel eternal.

but i'm doing what i can. i'm trying, anyway. my therapist said i should practice hope, and i'm trying to. i'm trying to let myself believe things might work out. even though the fucking meds have made me weepy as hell, i'm trying to stay positive, and envision that this cycle could work. that on christmas day, instead of my period, i'll get a positive pregnancy test.

(because going home for christmas isn't loaded enough.)

there's an old wives tale that if you wrap a baby blanket and put it under the tree, you'll have a baby by next christmas. i'm jewish, but we're an interfaith household, so we bought a baby blanket, and we're going to wrap it in hanukkah paper, and put it under the tree. we have a hope basket in the nursery - because when we moved into this house we set aside a bedroom to be the nursery, and it's empty except for that little basket of baby things we've collected over the months, in the hopes that one day we'll have a baby to dress in the little onesies or socks. we have a running list of names. this is our version of practicing hope.

this is only our first treatment cycle. things could work. or maybe the next cycle. and then, there's always ivf. some days, i feel like it'll work for us, and we will have a baby, one way or another. other days, i wonder if i shouldn't just spare myself the pain and call it now. it's exhausting, infertility.

so, to everyone who misses my writing, and wonders when i'll update again - i don't know. i miss my writing, too. i miss being the person who wasn't so consumed by fertility shit, who could indulge in hobbies. i'd like to believe i can get back to that. but not this week.

the holidays are joyous but they're also really fucking hard, so let me be your friendly reminder not to ask people when they're having kids, or why they aren't pregnant yet, and to not tell people struggling with infertility to "just adopt" or "just relax."

happy holidays.

#random life post #weezly talks about infertility #weezly talks writing

[insomniamamma]

Circle, Circle: Dieter Bravo X f!reader

A/n: written for my @yearofcreation2023 Year of Kisses. This prompt was a kiss for comfort, and a whole lot of real life happened between when I started this and now. This is a love letter to the theater nerds I knew in high school and the theater nerd I became later in life. This one turned out different than I thought it would. This story refused to be smutty. This story refused to be sexy. I don't make the rules. Inspired largely by this.

warnings: drug and alcohol use, angst, implied fatphobia, insecurity, cuddles and fluff, being dieter's best friend implies it's own warning.

You saw the clip. Annika belting Dieter in the chops in the middle of some posh party while Kate looked on with the kind of face you make when your drunken best friend barfs in a potted plant at your parents house. You never loved me! You never loved me at all! Dieter's hands thrown up in self defense, grinning at the cameras as security goons hook their arms around Annika's waist and pull her out of the shot. Day in the life.You saw the clip and knew what was coming. Dieter fuckin Bravo.

You've known D since middle school, gravitating towards each other because no one else wanted anything to do with either of you. The girls called you stupid and fat and ugly. The boys called him faggot. So you'd banded together, smoking cigarettes you stole out of your Gramma's dresser, smoking shake-weed out of pop-can pipes at the edge of school grounds, right under that stupid sign that read 'drug free school zone' and then kicking it into the tall grass when some terminally bored teacher's aide came to round up you and D and the rest of the burnouts. Nobody ever gave you more than the cursory straighten up and fly right speech. Neither of you were actively failing so no one cared. Then, in high school Dieter discovered the theater program and so did you.

You saw the clip and knew your phone would ring eventually. Or buzz rather. Coming home, he texts. Can you pick me up? Sure. What time? Knowing exactly what will happen. He'll say he won't be any trouble, that he'll book a room at the holiday inn and you'll tell him no and invite him to stay. Because you always do. Because home has turned on him for getting out. He's won an Oscar out in the world, but here? He's sneered at, deep well of contempt for those who strike out and fail and come home licking their wounds. Who does he think he is? Who do you think you are? Hurts less for you because you never tried to leave as much as you wanted to.

You should try out, you told him. If I'm trying out you should too, he told you. Little Shop of Horrors. He was gunning for Seymour so you learned Audrey, so you could practice the songs with him. I can't try out are you kidding me? You can, D told you, you sound...rested his hand on your upper arm the way someone might touch a live nuclear warhead. You sound good. We sound good together. You know that right? And inside you do. The way his voice weaves through yours, the way you can let go when it's just the two of you. His garage or your basement, singing over the piano track the music teacher made.

He's a mess. He looks about four days out from his last shower, his curls sticking up in greasy quills, his eyes are red-rimmed, from drugs or crying, you can't tell. This is how it is for him. He fucks up spectacularly and then he comes slinking home. No one cares here. No one gives a shit about his Oscar here. Just that no good Bravo boy limping home like a kicked dog. But you care. Dragging his carry-on along behind him, broad shoulders slumped, you feel that unwilling, unwitting spike of pity lodge in your chest.

They'd laughed. At the audition. When you and Dieter took your positions on stage, a bit of rough blocking you'd worked out between the two of you. Not loud braying laughter, snickers and titters of girls expecting a debacle and you feel your chest constrict and your eyes burn--

"Lift up your head Wash off your mascara Here, take my Kleenex, wipe that lipstick away Show me your face, clean as the morning I know things were bad, but now they're okay--"

But Dieter has you, grips your chin with finger and thumb just like you practiced, those big brown eyes terrified and deadly serious hold yours as he draws you to your feet. Audrey's lines pour out of you in a rush, the accompaniment a hair slower than the recording, I blew it, I blew the song and then you find the tempo, you find your voice and it rings out like it did all the times you and Dieter ran it together, belting it over the cast recording, rings out into the dark auditorium, the way you've heard it in your head this whole time, and you feel your skin prickle as Dieter's voices threads through yours like a grounding touch, and you finish together, singing into each other's faces.

The accompaniment stops and there's polite applause.

"You saw?" "Everybody saw--" "Fuck."

He smells like stale beer, fast food and no sleep. "You knew it wasn't gonna last with her right?" You keep your eyes on the road, but you can feel D bristle in the passenger's seat. "How do you mean?" "Come on, man, she's, like, half your age. Even if you hadn't cheated on her with Kate--" "Hey--" "You and her have nothing in common other than being trapped in that weird quarantine bubble," you say, "That's not love, that's fucking Stockholm syndrome." "You're probably right." "I'm always right. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"This is some bullshit!" Dieter jabs a chipped black fingernail at the list of names tacked to the bulletin board outside the auditorium. "Your name is nowhere on that list. We sounded so good together! They--" "Dieter it's fine," you say. "They cast Emmy Lancaster as Audrey! What the fuck?" "Emmy's fine. She's got a nice voice." "Yeah, but she's not you! How'm I gonna do it if it's not you?" "D! Stop it!"You grab him by his upper arms and shake him a little, and those big brown eyes lock onto yours and he looks like he's drowning. "You've got this. I know you, dude, you're gonna be great." His eyes flick back and forth like he's searching for something. "Will you still run lines with me?" "Of course I will, you asshole."

"You hungry?" "Starving." "Mabels?" "Mabels."

"Oh, man, I forgot how good this is."

You and Dieter order the same thing as ever, garbage omelets with and order of biscuits and gravy split between you. D slathers his plate in hot sauce and you wrinkle your nose like you always do. And the question comes up as it always does. Can I stay with you? Just for a little bit-- and the answer is always yes, because D is a disaster but he's your disaster.

He's held your hair while you puked, you babied him when his girl dumped him right before senior prom. You ran lines together, even though you couldn't act with him. You don't have the right look for Audrey, they told you, but we do need a stage manager, and you threw yourself into it even though it hurt, because what where you expecting? And you had a knack for it, which surprised you and everyone else. The Audrey Two puppets were rented, but everything else had to be built and you found that you loved it, sketching out the sets, figuring out how to make the pieces light enough for you and the half-dozen other nerds you'd press-ganged into being stage crew to lift easily. We can do most of it with scrims, paint right on the fabric and then light it on from the back, or we could project the images right on them, like what Nine Inch Nails does. We can get with the AV club, see what they think.

"You can always stay with me, Dieter." You reach across the sticky table and wrap your hand around his forearm, "You know that right?" And there's a flicker across his face that says no, and it feels like a spike in your belly--

"Everyone's saying-- Christ. It's like everything I touch turns to shit."

"C'mon, that's crap and you know it, Hunger Strike--"

"That was different!" He surges forward and takes your hands in his, a bit of coffee sloshed between you, turned ears and cocked heads of the few patrons haunting Mabel's this time of night. "I had something there! It was like, something entirely outside of me--"

"Like catching lightning in a bottle?"

"Exactly like that!" And he smiles, brilliantly, the real one, not the cool little smirk reserved for the red carpet, for the press junkets, the smile that lights him up, the one you remember from way back when the lights came up and the orchestra played the main theme, the cast linked arm and arm, ready to take their bows and Dieter broke ranks, deviated from what you'd done in the previews, running the show for a cadre of bored teachers who'd rather be doing just about anything else, he sees you in the wings and catches your eye, waves you out two handed, a huge clownish gesture that requires a response, so you and the tech crew pour onto the stage, while the actors slide down to make room for you and you dip your outstretched hands to the orchestra and raise them again to the soundboard and spot operator the way you've seen every night this run and then everyone links arms and bows in a wave and suddenly Dieter's arms are locked around you, releases you and then turns to the crowd, raises your hand and his together, as the applause comes up.

"Do you know how that feels?" And you remember the way you and him sounded together, how Audrey poured out of your lungs like she had always been there-- "Yeah, D, I do," and his eyes flicking back and forth across your face still and hold yours, his hands warm in your grasp.

"Yeah," he says, and squeezes your fingers in his, "Yeah, I think you do." And you stay like that a beat, hands folded together across the sticky table, ancient cigarette smoke and old coffee and hand sanitizer. The waitress brings the check. One of Mabel's spray tanned granddaughters. You draw your hands away like you've been caught.

You've kissed Dieter exactly once, under the much-graffitied overpass, neon slurs and pentagrams and pigeon shit, both of you drunk on Wild Irish Rose, him smelling of weed and his mouth was warm, tentative against yours, and you'd laughed about it afterwards, circle-circle dot-dot now i've got my cootie shot, and you'd leaned together with your arms around each other, warm and solid against each other.

During tech week you'd pulled double duty, running lines with Dieter because outside of the auditorium Emmy Lancaster wouldn't even look at him, rolled her eyes all through rehearsal as if she was doing the world a favor by being there. She wanted nothing to do with him outside of scheduled rehearsals and Dieter was scared. The tech crew you'd rounded up was a different story all together, the lights are down and they can't see us so go nuts, so backstage you'd gone full goth, all black and dramatic makeup, and some of the others had followed suit, a little bit of rebellion behind the curtain where no one could look at you.

After one particularly grueling night, you and Dieter find yourselves side by side on the futon in your basement. Your bedroom proper is upstairs but your folks have let you build a nest down here so won't bother the rest of the house. They've mostly given up on you but that gives you some freedom.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he says, looking up at the crappy drop ceiling and glow in the dark stars that you've decorated it with. "Emmy hates my guts. She thinks I'm a creep. How'm I supposed to make this work?"

"Pretend she's me."

"What?"

"Pretend. She's. Me. You're good singing and running lines with me, so just imagine it's me and not Emmy fuckin Lancaster up there with you."

"Will that work?"

"Dude, I don't fuckin know, but you better figure it out quick. We open in a week."

The ride home is silent save for the scrape of windshield wipers, low, warm spit of rain, winding back roads and Dieter's fallen asleep, head turned away, slumped against the window, comes blearily awake at the sound of your tires on the gravel driveway.

"Hey, D, we're home." He stretches in the passenger's seat and yawns hugely.

"I can still get a hotel. I don't want to be a problem--"

"Too late. C'mon."

You fall asleep under fake plastic glowing stars and wake to find you and him wrapped together, his forehead pressed to yours, your arms tucked around his ribs, his hand folded over the curve of your hip, his breath warm against your face, and you're not sure how this makes you feel, because you've never been close with someone quite like this and you're not sure what might happen next, but at the same time this is Dieter and you've known each other for what feels like a million years and he looks so different asleep, face all slack like a little kid who's zonked out in the back on the car on some long road trip.

"I'll take the couch." "The fuck you will. I know the wire-work on Cliff Beasts 6 tweaked your back." "Was it that obvious?" "I could tell." "You can always tell."

"D. Hey, D." You try to squirm out of his grip without waking him, but you haveto resort to a good hard poke in the ribs. His eyes fly open and the two of you launch up and out of bed and away from each other like two magnets forced pole to pole.

"hoooomygod. Oh shit I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--" "Dude, it's okay, I didn't mean either-" "I was just so tired holy shit," his eyes are wide and his cheeks are fire engine red and you can feel the embarrassment and anxiety pouring off him like radiation. You start laughing. You can't help it. "What?" "You remember that scene from Planes, Trains & Automobiles?" Dieter brays laughter and the embarrassment flicks out like a candle flame.

You offer your hand and he takes it. You lead him upstairs. You need to get cleaned up. You smell like the floor of a taxi-cab, and Dieter laughs, a small one that just barely touches his eyes, his big be-ringed hand folded around yours, stroking your knuckles with the pad of his thumb, eyes down-turned.

"You always let me come back to you. No matter how bad I fuck up. You don't have to- you shouldn't--"

"Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do Dieter Bravo. You can always come to me. Unless you become a serial killer. Which seems unlikely considering how squeamy blood makes you."

Dieter laughs, a real one this time, that dimples his scruffy cheek and crinkles his eyes closed, and he knows you're talking about the time in Mrs. Wilson's home economics class when Lola Stevens sliced her thumb opening a can of peaches to make cobbler and Dieter got one good look at the running blood and slithered bonelessly out of his chair, eyes rolled up to the whites.

He laughs and pulls you into a crushing hug, his arms banded around your back, pressing you into him and it catches you off guard and you stumble against him, sorry. I didn't mean, and you don't give him space to elaborate, tuck your face into his neck, wind your arms just as tight around his middle. He smells like skunk weed and whiskey sweat and fast food and exhaustion but also like home, like those fevered days leading up to opening night, like when your first serious boyfriend had dumped you, like when he'd held your hair while you puked in the weeds by the side of the road, walking back home from a kegger that he cops broke up, the two of you creeping into the basement, got you a big sweating plastic tumbler of water in the ugly yellow light from the range hood, his eyes big and dark and serious, afraid of waking the rest of the house, and laughter had come bubbling up silent giggles that he caught like the plague, did you see the way Greggie ran?-- shut up you're gonna get us caught--

"Christ I missed you." "Missed you too, D, but you really need to shower." "That bad, huh?" "Yeah, that bad."

With some coaxing Dieter sleeps beside you, curled away from your nightstand lamp. Can't ever sleep without reading a little first, a horror yarn you've read a half-dozen times, plucky hero and damsel in distress threaded through with Dieter's even breath. He looks oddly frail in the soft light, back hunched in and knees tucked up like he's cold. You kill the light and slide the book under your pillow. You already know how it ends.

You kill the light and tuck yourself against his broad back, slide your arm around and his hand finds yours, folds your fingers into his, tucked against his chest. He smells like your soap and your shampoo because his toothbrush and a hair-clotted razor were the only toiletries that made it into his tangle of luggage. Walmart, you think, need to go anyway. You feel him soften, relax into your embrace, his weight settling against you, press your lips to the back of his head before tucking your face into the warm join of his shoulder.

His voice, sleep heavy and slurred-"Did you just kiss me?"

"Circle-circle, dot-dot"

#year of kisses #year of themes 2023 #better late than never #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo best friend imagine #dieter bravo #pedro pascal

[kintatsujo]

so I just had one of those weird ass "just met Satan" sort of dreams

where I was staying at this house that was pretty much my house from childhood to early adulthood, as it looked before we moved out and Kiddo took over my bedroom

and so I'm in this facsimile of what my bedroom would have looked like when I was like, nine, except that this detail was off and that detail was off and I had the pair of journals I carry around now

and I was very much an adult except I was wearing some clothes of the sort I haven't bothered with since quarantine, which I largely remember because I looked in the mirror that was always by the door

Anyway

there were several sons in this family that had taken over (?) the farm (irl Mom still lives there) and one of them comes into my room and is being generally obnoxious, so I kick him out and lock the door because I want to get some sleep

and some time passes

and then one of the other sons just fucking creeps in, as if I never locked the door, and he starts turning on low level light sources like he's trying not to wake me up

so I stand right up and I tell him to get the fuck out. And he gives me this resentful look (while looking eerily like a guy I knew as a teenager, but I couldn't tell you which one) but he goes

and as I'm getting the lights sorted back out I realize that while I can lock the door, it won't stay shut anyway

and I think "oh, I do not feel safe here"

so I grab my notebooks and my phone and I start striding out of the house, which remains pretty much the layout of the house where I grew up (as it looked when I was a kid)

So that same son grabs my wrist as I try to leave

and I wrench my hand away and tell him, "don't touch me"

and he says, "that's not your business" (as in what he touches isn't my business)

and I reply, as I walk out, "it's my body!"

his response to that is

"no, that's not right, it's father's"

and as I keep moving and he's sort of chasing me he starts chanting "it's master's" and his voice sounds wrong

this is around the point I realize I'm dreaming, not because of this dude behind me, but because I suddenly can't move very fast, and I think, with extreme annoyance and not especially worried that this guy is chasing me,

"why can't you ever move as fast in dreams as you can in real life"

because I am hobbled slower than my walking speed at this point and again I'm more annoyed about it than I am scared

well, I happen to know the yard better than he does so I do that thing where you kind of duck to the side while you're just out of sight so your pursuer keeps going straight

and I go over to hide in Dad's old barn, where there is a space right behind the door where it looks like some shit got moved out

that's when I remember (and this did actually happen earlier in the dream as opposed to getting dream retconned in) that someone had said something about "the barrel has already been moved"

and I think to myself, "this is the first fucking place they're going to look for me, isn't it."

This is when I real life wake up, and go from laying in sleep position to standing upright without even putting my glasses on

and the last thing I think while still very much in dream state, his voice still ringing in my ears, is:

"Can't get me out HERE, you fucking demonic cucks!"

#dreams #unreality #then I thought 'well it's noon I might as well just be up' #it's also wild because 'cucks' is NOT an insult I'm in the habit of using

[fbfh]

oh my gosh- i also love dance academy! i was wondering your thoughts on ethan karamakov as a bf? thank you!

OH FUCKING BOY. First of all, yes. Season 1 Ethan is very different from seasons 2 and 3 Ethan bc he actually had a shit load of character development. In general though, Ethan has had a lot of practice at getting girls to fall for him. like a lot. like a nauseating amount /j but there are two things that really set you apart from his past flings. first of all, you didn't start out as friends with Kat, Ethan met you on his own terms. second, you really didn't fall for a lot of his games like other girls have. similarly to Logan Huntzberger, he's surprised when you treat your relationship as casually as he does. he's intrigued even. but what really gets Ethan to wake the fuck up and realize what a catch you are, how much he likes you and wants to hold onto you, is when he realizes that you're seeing other people too. he sees some guy from third year that he doesn't really know that well chatting you up, touching your arm and making you laugh. and he does not like it. not one bit. so when you show up to workshop the dance he's been choreographing as promised Ethan simply cannot focus on the steps or what a perfect choice you are. he thinks he can keep it together, but he's already letting his feelings slip out when you're warming up.

"So, you and Darren, huh?"

he thinks it sounds casual enough, but you see right through him (which is one of the reasons you're so perfect for him) so of course you just laugh.

"Ethan Karamakov," you chuckle, looking up at him, "are you jealous?"

he gets all blustery and denies it, but by the time you're done going over the choreo he's insisting you both stop seeing other people, and planning a proper date to take you out on this weekend, and the rest is history. and let me tell you, even though this is his first proper relationship, Ethan falls hard and fast for you. he gets so invested in you, in being the best boyfriend he possibly can. He really, really wants to do a good job, and it shows. what Ethan starts to realize what he loves so much about you is that you really don't scare easy. you're such a stable, consistent presence in his life, and it's something that means more to him than he can even describe. he gets so scared that Natasha or his dad will scare you off, but not even his... interesting family can do that. and full disclosure, Kat will probably not like you much at first, only because she doesn't want to fall into the pattern of getting attached to one of Ethan's girlfriends then having them leave when he acts like an asshole. but once she sees that Ethan is actually trying, that he's trying to be a better boyfriend, better brother, better person, when Kat sees that it looks like you're actually around to stay and not going flake at the first sign of trouble???? Congradulations, you now have both of the Karamakov siblings attached to you at the hip. Kat will periodically requisition you for much needed spur of the moment girl's days/shopping sprees (usually when her mom flakes), so now it's Ethan's turn to find out what it feels like to be stood up for a date. you barely have time to explain when Kat takes your phone out of your hand.

"uh yeah, Ethan? there's a sale so I'm stealing your girlfriend - who is waaaay out of your league, by the way-"

"Okay, thanks for that, Kat."

"anyway, you'll get her back later! bye-"

And under other circumstances sure, it would suck to be canceled on last minute, but it actually makes Ethan really happy when those days do happen. knowing that Kat is getting to spend time with someone who's both a positive influence AND is somewhat stable gives him a lot of peace of mind. besides, if Kat approves of you, he knows there must be something... real between you. and something real like that doesn't come around too often. he knows from experience.

#drabbles #dance academy #dance academy x reader #dance academy drabbles #ethan karamakov #ethan karamakov x reader #ethan karamakov drabbles #AUUUUUUGHH #P L E A S E SEND ME MORE DANCE ACADEMY ASKS #BARKING HOOTING HOLLERING YELLING AT THE SUN #I swear these goofy little austrailian ballerinas are all I can think about

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

"Spend the night with me"

Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader

Rated: MATURE!! 18+ ONLY!!! MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING AND PHYSICAL ASSAULT! FWB! ROUGH SEX! UNPROTECTED SEX! ORAL SEX (F RECEIVING)! DIRTY TALK!

Fandom: Sons of Anarchy (SOA)

Happy fucking Lowman. That man was Seriously one of a kind. Ever since I moved to Charming Happy and I have had a little arrangement. I met him my first week in town. That was a good Six or seven months ago. There was a spark between us instantly. We both agreed that we weren't looking for anything serious. Instead, we opted for the classic friends with benefits.

For the past six or seven months everything has been perfect. That was until an enemy of the sons came knocking. You'd think I'd have nothing to do with that situation since Happy and I aren't dating but some dickhead decided that fucking each other was good enough. So, I ended up kidnapped in hope of luring the sons out cause "they had Happy's girl". I told them I wasn't Happy's girl and that it was just harmless fucking but for some reason they didn't believe me.

My kidnappers proceed to beat the shit out of me when they decided the sons were taking to long. When the leather wearing bikers did show up I was an absolute mess. I was coherent enough to see Happy come in guns blazing but that just seemed to be his style. Once I was rescued like some damsel in distress Happy took me home and then with the help of Tara and Jax I was bandaged up.

For the next week Happy stayed close to my house "to keep an eye out". That entire week was hell for me. I had never been in a bad situation especially nothing on that level. Every night, or basically anytime I closed my eyes I was thrown right back to those fucking beasts. For the most part I was able to deal with the nightmares but the lack of sleep was really starting to get to me.

I sat in my kitchen trying to drink my fourth cup of coffee in two hours when I heard the loud rumbling of a motorcycle drawing closer. I immediately got up and went for the door. Just as I stepped outside Happy was climbing off his bike in my driveway.

"Just keeping an eye out?" I asked loud enough to get his attention.

He smirked as he shook his head. He quickly walked over to me stopping when he was a step away.

"You can never be too careful." He quipped.

"Wanna come in?" I asked nodding my head towards the door.

"Sure" he said with a curt nod.

I turned quickly heading inside with him right behind me. He closed the door as I continued back into the kitchen. I poured my half empty coffee cup out then turned to lean my back against the counter.

"Have things been quiet?" I asked softly.

Happy sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, we are having issues with the remaining members of the crew that took you." He told me flatly.

A cold chill went down my spine at his words. I've never been one to scare easy but maybe that's because I've never had any real thing to be scared of. That is until now. I don't doubt that the remaining crew members are pissed at the sons but I'm almost positive that most of that anger is towards Happy and his trigger finger. That thought alone scared me. Even though we set clear rules down for this little endeavor of ours I couldn't help but get attached to this man. I mean I'm not in love with him but he is an important part of my life now and honestly I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't around anymore.

"You alright? I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears." He asked in that soft gravel voice I'd only ever heard him use with me.

I thought about his question for a moment before walking over to him. As soon as I reached him I leaned against his chest. I felt his large arms wrap around me as I took a deep breath.

"Spend the night with me." I said softly.

I felt him tense slightly. Rule number two: we never spend the night.

"You really think that's a good idea?" He asked.

I sighed then stepped back out of his hold.

"Probably not but I've barely slept the past week. I just want one good night's rest. I'm only gonna get that if you're here." I explained softly.

The next second his hands were grabbing me and pulling me back into his chest. It should worry me how safe and good it felt to have his arms wrapped around me.

"I'll stay but just one night." He said like it was the most simple and realistic answer anyone would have said.

A small part of me suddenly ached from his words. Just one night? What if I want him to be here every night? I mentally scolded myself for even thinking that. I knew I needed to make this situation a little less touchy feely.

"Plus it's been way to long since you've railed me." I said as nonchalantly as I could.

It must have sounded good because Happy laughed a loud and hearty laugh. His large hands were suddenly on my ass cupping each cheek gently. I wrapped my arms around his neck already knowing what his next move would be. Without a word he lifted me off the floor by his grip on my ass. I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist. He wasted no time in getting me to my bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and then ripped his own shirt off tossing it to the floor.

"Don't worry baby girl, I'll make up for the time you had to go without my dick." He said in a slightly deeper voice.

I breathed out a laugh as he climbed on the bed to kneel between my legs. His large rough hands slowly caressed my skin. He started at my knees slowly moving upward and under my shirt. I leaned forward enough for him to pull the fabric over my head and discard it.

His lips were on mine so suddenly it felt like all the air had been sucked right out of me. I didn't waste a single second as I kissed him back desperately. Even though I was scared to be alone tonight it really had been for too long since we had fucked.

His kiss moved to my jaw then my neck. He paused to suck harshly on the sweet spot under my ear. I couldn't stop the moan that came out of me but Happy seemed pleased with the sound as he continued his decent with his lips.

He took a minute or two to show a good amount of attention to each of my breasts and nipples. By the time he reached the hem of my shorts I was already a babbling mess. He made quick work of ridding me of the thin fabric shorts.

Once the fabric was thrown to the floor he grabbed my thighs to force my legs open. He positioned himself between my thighs so my now soaked cunt was in his direct line of sight. My head fell back against the bed as he used one long finger to swipe slowly from clit to entrance.

"You're so fucking wet baby girl and I've barely touched you." Happy said softly keeping his eyes on his prize the entire time.

The loudest and dirtiest moan I've ever made came out of me as he latched on to my sensitive clit. There was no build up to it. He immediately came at me like a starved and desperate man. He sucked harshly on my clit making me whine and buck my hips. One of his arms laid over my stomach to hold me in place while he feasted.

"Fuck Happy that feels so good." I moaned as my back arched off the bed.

He hummed against me making me see stars as my orgasm quickly approached. Just as my body began to tense from the beginning wave of my climax Happy's mouth withdrew.

"Oh you son of a bitch." I groaned.

I yelped as he gave a harsh slap to my clit.

"Watch it (y/n) " He ordered darkly.

A few seconds passed then he placed a soft kiss on my clit before he stood to remove his pants.

"I want you to come on my dick baby girl not my tongue. I'll make sure you sleep good tonight." He said in a deeper gravel voice than his usual tone.

"Oh god, please Hap." I moaned breathlessly.

His dark chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. He lined himself up using my own wetness to coat himself before filling me to the hilt. My back arched off the bed as my mouth hung open in the midst of a silent moan. I had honestly forgotten how big he was.

"You haven't use any of your toys have you?" He asked suddenly.

I shook my head trying to calm my breathing.

"They don't do much for me anymore." I panted.

Happy lean over me so his face was an inch or two from mine.

"Why is that?" He asked tilting his head to the side.

He still hadn't moved which was starting to drive me a little crazy. I tried to back my hips up into him but his weight easily kept me held in place.

"I want you to say it baby. Tell me why those little toys of your's don't get the job done anymore." His voice was one level below a growl.

When I didn't answer him immediately he pulled almost completely out of me then slammed back inside with a teetering on painful but incredibly good thrust of his hips.

"You Happy! None of them come close to making me feel as good as you do." I shouted.

I felt like I was an egg about to crack. Happy, on the other hand, seemed satisfied with my reason. He finally started to move. Fucking me with long and harsh strokes. I was a mewling mess within seconds.

"That's right baby girl. Nothing will ever make you feel as good as I do." He growled against my neck.

I moaned loudly unable to stop myself. I knew for a fact he was right about that. No toy or man would ever compare to him. He had me wrapped around his dick and his finger. I don't even know how or when it happened but it did.

"Please Happy" I begged.

I didn't even know what I was begging him for but it just felt right. His grunts and groans had grown louder and more frequent as the tenseness in my body felt like I'd snap any second.

"Come for me baby. Come all over my dick like a good girl." He ordered through Clenched teeth.

That was all it took. The tenseness in me snapped immediately as I clenched around him tightly. He swore under his breath as his hips stuttered. With a muffled groan into my neck he came. The both of us laid tangled together for a few quiet moments as we caught our breath. As I was just starting to fully come done from my high Happy suddenly got out of bed then grabbed for his clothes.

"Hap" I said softly.

He only grunted in response.

"You said you'd stay tonight." I reminded him.

His actions froze immediately. He stood in place like that for a few long seconds until he finally dropped his pants back to the floor. He came back to the bed but hesitantly laid down beside me like I might attack him any second. I tried not to think about it as I cuddled up to him laying my head on his chest.

"Thank you Happy, for everything." I told him quietly.

--

Requests are closed!

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Main Masterlist

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #fanfiction #sons of anarchy #soa #happy lowman smut #happy lowman #smut #smut prompt

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hi Mar!! I really wanna start writing Marauders fics, specifically about the Valkyries. I have soooo many ideas that I’m really excited about, but this fandom seems really volatile. Do you have any advice on how to keep my sanity lol. I’m really doing it to foster more community with ppl who have similar interests in me.

Bonjour!

So this is so very interesting and valid. I have a lot to say.

My experience with Marauders has been the best and the worst so far. I was in Naruto, then Star Stars, currently diving into Attack on Titans, and nothing has come close to the Marauders in terms of insanity, BUT.

I have met some of the best people on here, I can say with 100% certainty that I made at least 15 really good friends, who will remain good friends whether we stay in fandom or not.

But I personally have gotten basically no hate. I'm a relatively small writer, I fly under the radar mostly, even TikTok is very tame. Basically, I'm cruising. Vibing, having an all-around great time, good for me.

Then I have my friends, who are my real friends in real life and in fandom, who are "popular", and some of them have gotten some vile, vile vile things said to them. I have seen some shit and heard some stuff that frankly should never see the light of day, especially not aimed at a 20-something-year-old human. And they don't have a PR team, aren't getting paid for this shit, and that truly breaks my heart. Because it's a few, but a few is often enough to ruin the positive fandom experience. And then people wonder why artists and authors move from Marauders...

So experiences vary a lot, and the truth is maybe for no fucking reason your work will pop off and you'll be thrust into the limelight and you best hope you have thick skin because some people are assholes.

Or you'll be like me (so far) and just vibe and have a great time.

I think the best advice I can give is to write for yourself and your friends.

I started writing because I wanted to, and then a few people started liking what I did, and now I have a small community of friends and writers and artists and we all hype each other up and that's literally all I ever wanted. I write what I want because I want. I follow the people I want. I read the stories I want. I don't pay attention to hits or "what's popular" and "what I should read." I'll read what I damn well please.

I do pay attention to comments because to anyone who's ever commented, I read it and I get a straight shot of serotonin and I'm so appreciative.

Fuck, I have some really good writer friends whose stories I haven't read.

I think as long as you're careful, you curate your experience, grab a few people on the way who you like, don't pay attention to fame, then you should be fine.

I think HP fandom's issue is that you have fans that have digested the work, we don't really care ("you do you" kind of vibe), we just have a good time. Then there are some that have just arrived and whose experience with social media and "consumption" of "content" is (I'm sorry) wrong. Requesting and asking and demanding shit they aren't entitled to.

Deciding what's right and what's wrong and what's acceptable.

And panicking when someone they follow doesn't follow the script they've written for them in their head, so when you say one thing that doesn't check their box they have this weird "god falling off the pedestal" they put you on, and they decide to drag you down for it.

You just don't know.

BUT. The odds of you becoming insanely popular are quite frankly super low, there are a few freak incidents but generally most of the fandom I'd say is pretty healthy, we just don't see it as much because what always comes out is the bad stuff. Stick to these pockets of happy. Don't engage in drama. Ignore the idiots.

That was unnecessarily long.

Basically, my love, go write your Valkyries. Pop off, write the story YOU want to write, and the people who will find it and like it will let you know. Find out who they are (in a non-creepy way, just respond to their comment, see if they've written something, and have a looksie). Be cool about it. Chat. See if you've got stuff in common. And then kidnap them and force them to become your friends.

Or be super creepy like I was with @greenvlvetcouch 😵‍💫 I wanted to become their friends and wrote them a fic. Then I sent it on Tumblr and said "Here you go" and now we're friends. (Note: Results may vary, and had Green not responded, I would have LET IT GO. Not everyone is meant to be friends and that is ALSO fine.)

Or for @imdamagecontrol my group chat and I were reading Titanic AU and we were all panicking about who was gonna die, and I sent her some screenshots of our panic through instagram and long story short now we're also friends. (Note: Results may vary, and had Syd not responded, I would have LET IT GO. Not everyone is meant to be friends and that is ALSO fine.)

So like... SHOOT YOUR SHOT but don't expect anything from it. Some people don't want to be your friend. Some people have enough friends. Take it with grace.

I can't wait to see what you come up with!

#mar gives the morning news #on fandom #friends and fandom #marauders fanfiction #fanficwriter #marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #fanfiction #harry potter marauders #hp marauders

[rad-rat-with-a-tophat]

day 6 of @thetheatergremlin's boyf riends week, technically. I'm sorry this is late. whoops

✨hoodie✨

Michael was absolutely not crushing on his best friend right now. Not at all, in fact, he was completely and totally calm.

Yeah that was a lie, a huge giant lie.

Michael was very much crushing on his best friend right now, and it was all one Jeremy Heere's fault.

The thing is, Jeremy was freezing all day every day. He had the internal heating system of a refrigerator. So when Jeremy had come over for an impromptu sleepover at Michael's fault and forgotten one of his many, many, cardigans, he started complaining non-stop about being cold.

And because Michael was an amazing friend who happened to be a 'living heater' in Jeremy's words, he gave him his hoodie.

Michael was currently regretting this decision, because it was 2 am and Jeremy was draped across Michael's lap like a cat, red hoodie swamping his skinny, twig, body. He was positively fucking adorable with his hair messed up, feet falling off the beanbag on side of Michael and head pressed into the beanbag on his other side.

It was thankfully Friday, so they could stay up as long as they wanted. However, they had both woken early for school and were now thoroughly out of it. The only thing that prevented them from falling asleep was the fact that they were two stubborn teenage boys who simply didn't want to sleep so they wouldn't.

"Michael," Said Jeremy's groggy voice, smushed into the beanbag they were both on, "What the fuck are we watching right now?"

Michael stopped staring at Jeremy in all his cuddly glory for a moment to look at the TV in front of them.

"Yeah I don't know,"

"Can you turn it off? I'm too comfortable to move,"

Michael looked down at the boy in his lap, "You are literally just a cat, you know that right?"

"Sure, can you turn off the tv though?"

"Anything for you Jere-Bear," Michael cooed.

Jeremy groaned and Michael could see the faint blushing rising up the back of his neck.

He's so cute when he blushes, Michael thought, Wait shit, now is not the time to hopelessly pine over your best friend. Because that is all you'll ever be. Best friends.

"Michael, are you gonna turn off the tv or not?" Jeremy asked, twisting himself to glare, blue eyes squinting in an accusing manner.

Oh my god he's literally so pretty for no reason like oh my god, Michael rambled in his head, gently pushing Jeremy off him to get the remote from where it was by the tv and turn it off.

When Michael turned back to the beanbag he was met with a rumpled Jeremy sitting crisscross like a fucking cat with Michael's hoodie, ten times to large, hanging off his frame. He was peering at him with half-asleep eyes, but nonetheless he was analyzing Michael for something.

"Uhh, Jeremy?" Michael said, frozen in place, thoughts and worries going through his head a mile a minute.

Fuck. Did he figure out I like him? Shit! Is he disgusted by me? Is he gonna say that I'm a creep and he doesn't want to be friends with me? Because he should, I'm such a fuc-

"You're really pretty," Said Jeremy, staring straight at Michael.

"O-Oh, I am?" Michael stuttered. All that was going through his head right now was the real life equivalent of a key smash.

Jeremy nodded, then started making grabbing hands at Michael, "Come here, I need to do something real quick,"

Michael obliged and stepped towards him, forcing his mind to block any thoughts that weren't completely platonic.

Jeremy stuck out his hands, grabbed Michael's face, and planted a messy kiss right on his lips.

Jeremy nodded at the sight of Michael's crimson face. "I'm gonna sleep now," He said, stifling a yawn and collapsing into the beanbag.

"O-okay, you do that Jeremy," Said Michael, "Wait, are you gonna sleep in my hoodie?"

Jeremy made an incoherent noise and snuggled himself further into the hoodie, too tired to care about how his back would feel the next morning.

Michael looked down at him, Damn you are whipped Michael, he thought to himself before picking up Jeremy's surprisingly light in his arms and carrying him to Michael's bedroom.

#SORRY THIS LATE #BUT I WAS REALLY TIRED YESTERDAY #SO HERE YA GO #THIS IS BETTER THAN THE LAST I WROTE AT LEAST #boyf riends #boyf riends week day six #bmc musical #bmc #be more chill #jeremy heere #michael mell #my writing #fanfic #wrote while wearing my super cool tank top that i doodled on #and a cardigan #because i'm cool like that

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Seven, Part 8

"I ran over her trying to catch a bus. We talked. We hung out. We hang out. We talk. And her name is Addison. What else do you want to know?" I downed the rest of my beer. Alcohol is a wonderful confidence boost, at least for awhile.

The place was suddenly hit by the very loud DJ starting his turntables. Star Fucking Hipsters "Two Cups Of Tea" started it's intro. A group of hipster looking people cheered. My guess is they were friends of this punk DJ.

"I'm not going to get anything out of you, am I?" Alana said.

"Nope. You'll need a lot more beer." I grinned at her.

"That's a pretty manageable request." Chad said out of nowhere.

"I don't need any chatter from the fucking Peanut Gallery." I snapped.

"I think I know an Addison from my anatomy class." Emma squeaked out. My first thought was why does a Film Studies student have an anatomy class. But I guess there's been weirder combinations. Alana snapped her attention to Emma pretty quickly.

"Oh, do tell," she said, crossing her legs and sitting all prim and proper. "Chris? Is this the secret Addison?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know what classes she's in." I was pretty sure she would be in an anatomy class for the whole funeral sciences thing. But I wasn't going to say shit. Not only was it uncomfortable, it felt weird for being a topic of discussion. I know they were just being my friends, but it still seemed odd that my surprising romantic interests are such a loved topic with my friends.

"She's really pretty, if it's the same girl." Sure, Emma is silent until she can add to this friendly ridicule. I was positive it was one and the same. I doubted there are that many girl's named Addison wandering around the UW.

"How do you not know what classes she's in?" Alana questioned, filling her cup. A new loud punk song I didn't know was playing. Someone laughed loudly over by the bar. The clack of pool balls rang around the room. An orchestra of the drunk.

I looked at her and shrugged.

"Does she have a big tattoo on her arm?" Chad asked. The fucker knew what she looked like. I was being attacked now from all sides. I poured the last of the pitcher into my cup, and downed most of that in one long swallow. I scowled at him. He grinned. Fucker.

"Yeah, a really detailed one of vines and flowers and skulls." Emma said. Both Alana and Chad looked at me expectantly. I gave Chad the finger. He knew the answer.

"That's her." I said, defeated. This wasn't a fair fight. "Why is my love life so fucking entertaining to you guys?"

"Because we watched you turn away from every single chance you had for years. I mean, you had Katt basically in love with you and you walked away. That girl would've done anything for you. Fucking anything. And you liked her! You told both me and Chad you liked her." Alana said. Chad grinned that shit-eating grin and grabbed the plastic pitcher. Next one was on him.

"So?"

"We've watched you spend the last, what, three years? Four years? It doesn't matter. We watched you actively stay out of any real attached relationship because of the risk. Now you're here in Milwaukee and some how, a girl asked you out..."

"I asked her out." I said. I still felt a little bit of pride about that.

"That just adds to my point why this is so downright interesting. You, the guy who wouldn't even let himself form a crush, asked a girl out. She's got to be something special." Fuck Alana and her logic. I couldn't say anything. She was right. I just didn't see it that way. Me actively pursuing a relationship was an ultra rarity.

"Yeah." It's all I could think to say. Not you're right. Not she is. Just yeah. Excuse me while I forget how to make a coherent thought.

#Fiction tags #fiction #artists on tumblr #writing #my writing #spilled words #writers on tumblr #poets and writers #writeblr #creative writing #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writer #lierature #punkrocksoapoperas #cynic #punk rock soap operas #free form #Stories #autobiographical fiction #art #literure #howispentmysummervacation #september sky

[prettybluelites]

Thoughts: The Curse of the Seafaring Life

Okay, fine, I'll watch Episode 5 one more time.

I have watched this half a dozen times by now and I have straight up howled every time Ed says "this here is a ship, and it's a space ship." The delivery combined with the hand gestures - I'm dead. I'm finished. Fucking genius.

A couple posts down I expounded on the fact that Ed is literally wearing sackcloth, still fascinated by that. Also wondering how much trouble he's having making the change from the infamous leathers to a loose-fitting linen onesie :P

That awkward position of, Do I clap, do I do nothing, or do I give the finger - so real

Does the mad cat on the new flag remind anyone else of the union rat inflatables that striking unions use?

Izzy got a new leg and it turned him into a right little sass pot

"I'm your captain! Wait, I can do it better." This whole scene is awesome and "That's the captain's chair" makes me laugh almost as hard as the space ship bit

Thinking a lot about Ed offering to let Lucius push him off the ship when it soon becomes clear that that isn't exactly what Lucius needs - I guess I'll just leave it at, I love how neatly the show illustrates that everyone heals differently

The shot of Izzy training on the gundeck is gorgeous and I'm not just saying that because of the Pecs of Death. And I love that he took himself down there and set all that up and took up his training his own self, idk, it feeds a lot of my headcanon about what sort of person Izzy is outside the context of Blackbeard - disciplined and fastidious

Love a good training montage, especially one that involves ass-slapping. And I love this new normal where Stede and Izzy, like, hang out and converse.

Will never grow tired of the fact that not one but both of Ed's shoes fly off

Really into geometry, lol. One of those superstitious bitches would have known what a pentagram was

Every girl loves an outfit she can twirl in

Third reliable lol of the episode: "draw me as, like, a steely...lord"

I was so busy thinking about Lucius and Pete each reckoning separately with Ed that I forgot to think about Lucius and Pete reckoning with each other. So glad this is a part of the storyline.

There really is nothing like a peanut butter sandwich. And then to be there when they were invented? Wow. :D

The scene with Ed and Fang in the boat is like Lucius recounting his horrors a couple episodes ago, shouldn't be funny, but...it's funny

Lucius is a man of some learning, he should know that Izzy's shark story is not, strictly speaking, fiction: A metaphor is a figure of speech that describes an object or action in a way that isn't literally true, but helps explain an idea or make a comparison.  (Thanks, Grammarly!) Izzy's not covering up shit with that story, he's explaining an idea.

STG if Izzy and Lucius don't make out by the end of this series...

Roach's comment about Frenchie's beautiful body, lmao

Anyone ever see Northern Exposure? There was a great scene in an early episode of that show where Joel was trying to figure out how Marilyn could sit still and quiet on her shifts as his receptionist and he was just boggled that she could, as Fang puts it, sit with herself. I'm not sure if this quote was from that episode, but I know it's a Marilyn quote: Words are heavy like rocks … they weigh you down. If birds could talk, they wouldn't be able to fly. That has stuck with me for a looong time. Anyway, sorry to blather, that's what this bit of Fang and Ed's conversation reminds me of.

Obvs the shirt needed to stay for plot reasons but also glad Stede got to keep it because he looks fine AF

Awwww Lucius and Pete, I love their love. I laughed and cried.

That feeling when someone reacts in all the right ways to all the right parts of your stories ♥

So much to love about this scene, obviously. Much has already been written about the kiss (THAT KISS!!) and Ed asking to go slow and Stede meeting him where he's at, but I am obsessed with the way Ed looks down, ever so slightly surprised, when Stede takes his hand. When, in Ed's adult life, has someone held his hand in a romantic context? It really is perfect.

And all that is to say nothing of Sometimes it's nice to be patient and wait. Jesus H Christ. When those two finally fuck, brains are going to melt and run out of the ears of fans all over the world.

Okay, phew! That was a lot, thank you for reading!

As a reward for your perseverance, here's a bonus quote I found while I was looking up Marilyn's bird quote:

"We are all pirates at heart. There is not one of us who hasn't had a little larceny in his soul. And which one of us wouldn't soar if God had thought there was merit in the idea? So, when we see one of those great widespread pirates soaring across the grain of sea winds we thrill, and we long, and, if we are honest, we curse that we must be men every day. Why not one day a bird!  There's an idea, now, one day out of seven a pirate in the sky. What puny power a man can attain by comparison. Compare a 747 with a bird and blush!"

Roger Caras, Birds and Flight, 1971.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd s2e5 #the curse of the seafaring life

[c-c-cherry]

HELLO you may recognise me as the artist that drew that one whole scene from chapter 7!! thought i'd drop in to say:

FIRST OF ALL midterms are the pain ever, i wish you all the best!! stay hydrated <3

SECOND OF ALL thank you for taking the time to leave such a long and heartfelt reply on my post asjcjkdj it made me really really happy and giddy for the rest of the day i'm so glad i managed to portray the characters and envision the scenes the way you intended us to! your writing is absolutely gorgeous and i hope you're doubting its quality less, because it is top tier.

speaking of your writing i was tempted to talk about why i really loved the fic in the post itself but felt like it was really long already 😭

so here i am, this may be long, i apologise in advance for my rambling, in this essay-

REIGEN'S SPIRALLING DOWN THE NEGATIVE SELF TALK WAS SO HEART BREAKING BUT SO RAW, IN A WAY, LIKE IT HURTS THAT HE REALLY THINKS NO ONE NEEDS HIM AROUND AND EVERYONE WOULD BE FINE/BETTER OFF W/O HIM. BUT SO SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN POSITIVELY IMPACTED BY HIM AND SO MANY PEOPLE LOVE HIM AND WANT HIM AND NEED HIM

I LOVE HOW REIGEN WAS FORCED TO FACE THAT TRUTH THROUGH DIMPLE'S MEMORIES, I LOVE HOW DIMPLE CARES AND IS CONCERNED FOR REIGEN WHILE BEING BRUTAL AND A LITTLE SHIT

i love how everyone turns to teru because he's reliable and he's smart but he's just a 14 year old who's had to be his own adult for way too long and he's just trying to figure things out, too. I LOVE HATE THE WAY HE TRIES TO FILL REIGEN'S SHOES, I LOVE THEIR FATHER-SON DYNAMIC

getting me started on ritsu would be a mistake as i may write a 13k word essay if left unattended BUT in short, I LOVE THE WAY YOU DEPICTED HIS TRAUMA, HIS EXTREMELY HUMAN, EMOTIONAL REACTION TO MOB POTENTIALLY LOSING CONTROL, THE WAY HE ISN'T OVER IT, BECAUSE REALLY THATS SO UNDERSTANDABLE, THE WAY HE'S JUST A SMALL, SCARED 13 YEAR OLD JUST OUGHHH

MOB AND HIS CONCERN FOR REIGEN, HIM STEPPING UP EVEN THOUGH HE KNEW HIS SHISHOU COULD BE DEAD INSIDE THE OFFICE, HIS BRAVERY AND HIS COMPASSION. AND THE ONE MEMORY? WHERE HES ASKING REIGEN NOT TO LEAVE SO SOON, NOT WITHOUT SAYING SOMETHING I CRIED. I CRIED OK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

SERIZAWA DESPITE BEING ARGUABLY THE MOST ANXIOUS ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION, STEPPING UP!! TAKING CHARGE AND BEING MATURE AND DOING HIS BEST, FOR THE KIDS AND FOR HIMSELF AND ESPECIALLY FOR REIGEN

and shou oh my god i love that he tags along, that he's included but feels like an outcast in their group, the way he's there because he cares but he thinks he doesn't really have the right since he's not as close to reigen. HES SO ALONE BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO INTEGRATE INTO THEIR CIRCLE, SO HE KIND OF HANGS AROUND THE EDGE AND GOOD LORD I WISH THEY'D JUST PULL HIM IN

in conclusion i want to hug them all. i haven't felt this many emotions in so long cherry you did amazing and trust me you're going to keep doing amazing, because you are you

if you read all the way here thank you for bearing w me 😭😭 i hope you're doing well, you said you recovered from a mystery sickness recently? take care ok, we support you!! <3

-bloo

Hello Bloo!! I’m so sorry it took me this long to finally reply. Life is life, and now I’m here! But just know that I’ve been rereading this ask consistently because it makes me so happy that my work can…make people think THOUGHTS? In-depth thoughts that they want to share with me?? It still barely feels real to me that people are liking my silly self-indulgent fic where I make the business man suffer. So thank you! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it, and thank you again for that deliciously-crafted fan comic! :)

I'm sparing your poor souls from a Cherry ramble under the cut. But for those who wanna peek inside my silly head:

As for what you’re saying about the fic itself…yeah HAHA. You’ve got it down. As someone who’s completely desensitized to their own ideas and the execution of said ideas, I don’t know how obvious all my little underlying themes and ulterior plot lines have been, but your interpretation of it all is pretty spot on. I’m a sucker for forcing characters to face their own truth via IMPOSSIBLE circumstances and then dragging every other character into a whirlpool of chaos and conflict and confrontation in turn. It makes it all the more fun >:)

I’ve been trying to write the characters carefully so their dynamics blend or clash or do anything else that I please, and that means letting them roam free and interact with each other while keeping their special character quirks. I love writing Mob constantly on the verge of guilty instability, Seri having to step his ass up despite his confidence not yet being 100%, Shou and his mysterious ways that are SO worth exploring because he's such a complex character despite not appearing a lot in canon, Ritsu’s impulsive, fear-driven, 13-year-old antics (and that dreaded stop sign), and of course, Reigen and all his pathetic self-loathing. In fact, ALL of them have been incredibly fun to write because ONE has amazing, fleshed-out characters that interact so well together. BUT I’ve been surprised with how much I’ve loved writing Dimple and Teru especially. Dimple’s not hard to write at all for me, but his interactions with the other characters in writing are ADDICTING, and I didn't expect that. I will say this forever, but I want Dimple in more fics because of the POTENTIAL. LET THE FART CLOUD HAVE THE SPOTLIGHT!! As for Teru—you can ask anyone who was around for the first few draft chapters of AH—I was very hesitant to write him at all. I personally think his character is very hard to nail, and I’m honestly surprised at how much the audience has taken to his role and his little moments within the fic—that encouragement and influence definitely made him appear more than I originally anticipated :)

I could ramble for hours about every character and all their inner complexities that I'd love to explore in this work and others. But I will stop myself here hahaha.

Thank you for this sweet little breakdown of what you’re enjoying in AH so far. It makes me feel very happy :) And thank you all for all the support! It really means a lot.

As for my mysterious sickness from a few weeks ago, it has vanished! Student life is crawling with unknown bacteria. It's like you're in daycare all over again, or perhaps a medieval plague ward. Now all I have to do is battle the turbulent trials of finals :’)

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #fanfic #reigen arakata #hanazawa teruki #whump #area hysteria #sweet anons #kageyama shigeo

[manogirl]

My Year in Reading, 2023

For the first time since 2012, I didn't do a GR reading challenge. In every year between 2012 and 2021, I read over 150 books. Some years it was closer to 150, some years closer to 200. In 2022, I read 83 books. In 2023, 79 books.

See, in 2022, my world broke. My brain broke. The big bad burnout turned my brain inside-out and upside-down and I lost reading. In that same long first half of 2022, I realized I had to leave librarianship. Not just my job, but my fucking career. See, I was a fiction librarian. I had this ultra-rare position that was my dream job, and reading was a part of my job. When people tell you not to make the thing you love your job, I know. I know what they're saying.

I spent the second half of 2022 living in a state of nearly constant joy. And I wasn't reading for a lot of it. If you asked me three years ago, I couldn't possibly have foreseen this turn of events. And for some of 2022, I was stressed about how much I WASN'T reading. I am trying to figure out how to express this, because it didn't feel BAD to not be reading. It felt right and it felt like I didn't want to be reading. But it also felt wrong because reading was a huge part of my life, and then....it wasn't.

I decided 2023 had to be different, in terms of how I related to reading, so I jettisoned the reading challenge and just let myself...be. Here's what I found out:

I read a lot of BL manga. I'm not a huge graphic novel OR manga fan, so this was a new and unexpected joy. This probably isn't surprising to you if you know me on tumblr through BL, but it was surprising to me. I figured I would dip into queer romance novels, but nope, it was the manga that I loved.

Danmei isn't for me. No idea why, because it seems like it'd be just my cup of tea, but it isn't. I like it, I just don't LOVE it, and right now I want to love the books I'm reading, especially if it's fiction because...

I read SO MUCH NONFICTION IN 2023. It's what my brain asked for, so that's what I fed it. It also probably contributed to my lower numbers; dense nonfiction takes a LOT longer to read than fiction/manga. I think...I'm a person who feels passionate about learning; I love it so so so much. And when my consumption habits switched to mainly frothy TV shows about men falling in love with each other, my brain was like, uh, you better feed us some facts, lady. So I did.

I...like?...memoirs? In my book club, I'm the person who hates memoirs. Memoirs that everyone loved I scoffed at. Memoirs, yuck. Except...apparently no. Apparently I like a memoir now. I guess this is maybe an offshoot of the nonfic bias but nonetheless, my brain continues to shock me and the people who know me best.

Anyway, here is a short, lightly annotated (not in order at all) list of my fave reads this year:

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett. Fuck yeah she doesn't miss.

Doppelganger by Naomi Klein. Oh this is the real shit, and she also doesn't miss.

Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid. Okay, a fiction book that I devoured. Sports + love + grief = a meditation on life.

Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma by Claire Dederer. I sometimes go back and read my highlights from this, because it was so fucking powerful and spoke to me so powerfully.

You Could Make This Place Beautiful by Maggie Smith. I loved this in a way I don't think I can explain. Simply stunning in all the right ways.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. Video games + love + grief = a meditation on life. Fucking amazing.

Stay True by Hua Hsu. Oh jesus fuck this is sad but it is so so so so good.

Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree. Cozy fantasy that isn't romance is something I need more of in my life. Yes to orcs opening bookstores and coffee shops and very little fighting.

Witch Hat Atelier, all existing volumes, by Kamome Shirohama. I've been sharing these with my 8 year-old niece and it's just the nicest little happy thing.

Vagina Obscura by Rachel Gross. Yes, please explain my fucked up innards to me. Endometriosis ftw!

Fat Talk by Virginia Sole-Smith. Real, solid advice and real, solid evidence, and real, solid writing. Two thumbs up.

Maybe someday I'll do a post about how I've been tracking my reading since November 11, 2004. I guess we're hitting the 20th anniversary this coming year, after all.

I guess I do know one thing: I'm never NOT going to read at times. I still do love it, even if my needs and wants around it have changed. Happy New Year, all!

#a year in reading #fave books 2023 #former fiction librarian #best reads 2023 #best books 2023