#are and shit. and how fucking unfair is it that.. like it sounds so selfish and entitled. b it how fucking unfair is it that i got a mom who

[pepprs]

beaver gnawing on wood noises

#purrs #delete later #this is gonna be a bad / hard post and i’ll have to delete it. like it feels like in making it im invoking cosmic forces to show me karma or #idk like being an ingrate or whatever. but sometimes i find myself on social media rabbitholes looking at instagram pages of.. women who #like really genuinely appear to be good moms to their kids. and love them for who they are and don’t try to make them anything different. #and who celebrate their quirks and stuff. and even share interests with them at the bare minimum. and it just makes me want to sob. like the #knot in my throat. i shouldn’t do it bc i just hurt myself but it’s like. im so lucky i have a mom and that she provides for me. and i know #there are valid reasons for that being all she can do. but also why can’t she… idk.why can’t she ummm love me. or celebrate me. or find #magic in me. or at the very least accept my humanness and be open to me like giving her feedback on stuff. even tonight at this panel this o #one woman was like yeah my two daughters call me on stuff and im like you’re right. if i called my mom on stuff (and i do) she would give me #the silent treatment (and she has) or eviscerate me (and she has). and people in my work life and on here call me endearing and say all #these things. but it’s like none of it can fill up the absolute aching pulsing void that is… my mom. my mom!!!!! is just a person i live #with anr resent most of the time. who has hurt me so badly. and i could have had a mom who like. let me sing and didn’t mock me for it. #and who came in and said goodnight to me and my sister instead of leaving us to o ur own devices because we’re twins and we had each other. #and 14 years ago today was the day that fully cemented in that she could not be that kind of mom and would never be. and i know she tried so #hard and i know she has been hurt and is still hurting. but i just want to scream. like everyone deserves a mom who loves them for who they #are and shit. and how fucking unfair is it that.. like it sounds so selfish and entitled. b it how fucking unfair is it that i got a mom who #im afraid of and then there are people like fucking… m*lissa err*co and sh*ron wh*atley (those are just the famous ones) who by all #appearances seem to be like.. not only loving but open. seeing their children as human and magic all at once. instead of a war prize and a #symbol of their own hardships or whatever. like it’s just so fucking unfair. i hate that this is the way things are for me and that it will #never change and that if it ever does i have to be the one to change it or i have to heal from it and let go of it. like FUCK that! i want #love from my mom! FUCK the fact that she can’t give it to me!!! she has to!!!!!! but she won’t. idk. delete post <3 #like so genuinely i should not be even typing these words bc god is gonna smite me now lol. but my heart is howling #and the shitty thing is i don’t think i’ll be able to be that kind of mom if i ever become one bc of how badly all of this has hurt me. and #bc of all that i don’t even think i want to become a mom anymore bc i don’t want to be the reason a child feels this way or grows up to.

[zorilleerrant]

“Which is the dude from the thing?” Bernard asks, and Tim has to stare at him so hard it feels like his eyes are going to melt out of his head, but Bernard doesn’t even clarify until he clears his throat so blatantly it hurts. “You know, that one pop star that everyone wants to make fight Batman. I think he’s from – okay, now I can’t remember where he’s from, either.”

“Maybe you should go to sleep,” Tim says, rubbing his shoulders and kissing the top of his ear. “You’ve been up all night writing fanfic.” And it’s maybe selfish, but Tim kind of wishes he’d been up all night making chili or something, if he’s going to stay up all night, because the shitty fast food places aren’t open yet, and he needs something dense to eat. Whatever there is to microwave isn’t going to cut it.

“You’ve been up all night fighting clowns or whatever, so I think of the two of us, I make healthier life choices,” Bernard says, snappishly, but also without looking up from his screen. Tim knows it’s his fault that Bern keeps staying up, that it’s just a reaction to his anxiety, that it’s going to have to be Tim doing something, or else they’re just going to have to wait it out. But he still doesn’t expect Bernard, half asleep and writing what appears to be barely coherent language (and not entirely English), to say, “there’s a guy, he’s named after a bird? Shit, maybe he’s a superhero, actually. You guys all have bird names, and you’re superheroes, right?”

“Bern,” Tim says, gently, turning the chair so Bernard has to look away from his computer, which he clings very hard to, making agitated noises. “Bernard. Bernard, look at me. What the hell kind of bird do you think a Nightwing is? Do Oracle, Red Hood, Spoiler, Signal, or Huntress sound like any kind of bird to you? Are you tired enough to think a bat is a bird?”

“Red Hood sounds like it probably could be a bird,” Bernard mutters, scratching a little too intensely at his eyebrow, “some kind of like. A falcon or something. A hawk. What’s the dude who dresses in like super fashionable clothing and then he’s got like a motorcycle and stuff and I think he’s an assassin.”

“Bear, babe, you just described like half my family,” Tim says, tilting their foreheads together so he can attempt to look his boyfriend in the eye, except said boyfriend keeps darting his gaze back and forth, not like he’s looking for hidden dangers or weapons to fight them off with, but like he forgot something crucial. Turning off the stove level stuff. (Tim darts out to check the stove, just quickly, but it’s off.)

“He’s pink,” says Bernard, with a level of certainty Tim definitely can’t pull off on that little sleep, much as he tries. But he has no idea what kind of pink pop star motorcycle riding assassin fighting Batman Bernard thinks he – fuck.

“Flamingo?” Tim practically yells, wondering how to best pack incredulity into the rest of his sentence, “are you talking about Eddie fucking Flamingo, Bernard? That’s not a pop star and he’s not from a TV show, he’s real, and he has a rap sheet a mile long, because, as you said, he’s an assassin.”

“Right, yeah. Him. He’s cool,” Bernard says, with the tone of voice that definitely means that wasn’t the first adjective he thought of but he’s still worried Tim’s going to be jealous about it. Which isn’t totally unfair, because Tim still does get a little jealous when Bernard looks at other guys, but he’s trying to cut down on that because it’s not exactly helping anyone with anything. And Tim would like to be able to look at other guys without feeling guilty. (Just look.)

“He is not cool, Bernard, he eats fucking faces, Bernard, you need to go to sleep,” Tim says, and then pulls Bern’s face into his hands, and looks at him very long-sufferingly, but lovingly, and places a kiss on the tip of his nose. And then, just to drive his point home, repeats, “Go the fuck to sleep.”

“No, I have to get this scene,” Bernard says, typing the word Flamingo way too many times for Tim’s comfort, scrolling up and down through the document he has open, and several other files that don’t actually seem to have writing in them. “Hey, how strong is your dad, anyway? Could he like. Lift a motorcycle?”

“Could he lift a motorcycle?” Tim asks, giving up on spinning Bernard’s chair around again in favor of rubbing at his face and regretting asking any of these questions at any point, but unable to (after hearing that) let this lie. “How strong do you think Batman is? You know he’s human, right? Like a regular human? I did explain this, didn’t I?”

“He could have robots in his suit or something, I don’t know,” Bernard says, while Tim tries not to cry, because, admittedly, Luke can lift a motorcycle in most of his less compact suits. But the recharge time on those is astronomical, so it’s not like that’s a helpful comparison. There’s a reason Bruce uses them so sparingly, but there are a couple he obviously could lift a motorcycle in, if he saw a reason to use them. So Tim doesn’t even know what to say.

So he just reads over Bernard’s shoulder, while his boyfriend smirks and points out a couple of choice sentences, one of which he’ll have to come back to because that is definitely not a language he knows. It might be Mando’a. It’s written in roman characters, at least, which rules out a lot of things. “What do you need him to lift a motorcycle for, anyway?” Tim asks, because so far the motorcycle doesn’t seem to have appeared, although it might be in an earlier chapter. He’s really going to have to ask Bernard how many chapters this thing is.

“Oh, I want him to pick it up and use it to smack Flamingo in the face,” Bernard says, matter of factly, and then mimes what Tim figures must be what he thinks it would be like to pick up a motorcycle one-handed and then bitchslap someone with it. It’s a little bit too casual of a gesture to be convincing about it, though.

“Bernard, my love, my life, my reason for getting up in the morning,” Tim says, pinning his wrists so he can't open his browser back up again, “I have never been more serious about anything. You need to rethink this once you’ve slept.” The words grate, coming out of his mouth, and he’s not enjoying feeling sympathy for all the people who’ve said this to him, and probably he was still right and they were still wrong, but, like, he gets why they said it, now.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Bernard says, condescendingly patting Tim’s arm and giving him a rough kiss before turning back to the computer and typing rapidfire, in a way Tim’s pretty sure he’s never seen Bern do while completely awake. Some of those words are Portuguese, though. At least one sentence is in German. (It’s the one where the motorcycle finally appears.) “I think Batman can probably lift a motorcycle, if he gets a running start.”

Tim picks him up and carries him.

#look i said something #my writing #fanfic #batman #timber week 2023

[ettawritesnstudies]

You look like a really happy and supportive person, do you have any tips about dealing with resentment esp. against other writers? It's something I'm noticing a lot in the community and other spaces I participate. Everybody treats it like it's righteous anger but it feels toxic. The moment they see someone thriving, the person gets hate mail and someone finds an excuse to bring them down. I guess people have reason to be hurt because everything feels hard and unfair right now. I'm also from a fucked-up third world country, I'm queer, my life feels stuck where it was before the pandemic, I can't get a job and I worry what it'll be like for me 10 years from now. But I kept saying to myself it wasn't so bad because it's really worse for so many people where I live and I tried to be upbeat... But then I saw a writer I know irl get published and I noticed I was feeling and thinking the same way those people I disliked act online. Angry at them for getting published when I don't have the skill or the luck for it. What do we do when that happens? Sorry if this is a pessimistic ask

Hey anon,

First of all, I'm really really sorry you're going through that, it sounds like a bad situation and I hope you can find some peace and stability soon. If it means anything, I'll be praying for you. <3 <3 <3

It's really hard to keep a positive outlook on things when other things in your life aren't working out. As you said, everything feels hard and unfair right now and you can't be blamed for feeling pessimistic and bitter about the way things are going for you. It's easy for me to act cheery because I'm blessed to be in a good situation with a good support network, and I'm aware that's something a lot of people don't have. You're incredibly strong for dealing with this and I'm proud of you for both surviving and trying not to let this bitterness affect the way you interact with the writing community. That's a testament to your good character and you're someone I'd like to have as a friend.

I think the biggest thing that's helped me not get bitter about other people's success is the "Holy shit, two cakes!" mindset.

I think this was made by @stuffman originally if "know your meme" tells true.

Life is a dessert table. Some people don't even like cake - some people are bringing brownies, cookies, tortes, pastries, jello puddings, fruit baskets, or whatever else suits their fancy. Chocolate cake ain't the same as lemon no matter which way you slice it.

Other writers aren't competition - everyone has their own voice and themes and stories to bring to the table. At the end of the day, I'm not trying to win over romance and grimdark true crime readers, and even within my own genre, if people like reading similar stories then they'll probably enjoy mine. A while ago I looked for comp titles to runaways and found a bunch of books that lit up all the same keywords with "sisters", "changelings," "seelie and unseelie courts", but they were nothing like the story I was trying to tell. I loved them all the same. Your words are important and meaningful and I hope this discouragement doesn't keep you from practicing your craft.

As far as publishing luck and money and time and skill goes: yeah the industry kind of sucks right now, there's no changing that. It might suck that you're not published yet, but hold onto that "yet". It's important. Hope keeps you striving, even if progress is stagnating at the moment. It's served me well through so many semesters slogging through engineering school when I didn't put a word to paper in months.

Helping other people can a tactical decision. I'm not published yet, nowhere near it. I started this tumblr (and the rest of my platform) for the sake of marketing and networking. One could argue I chat with the likes of @ashen-crest, @abalonetea, and @author-a-holmes for purely selfish reasons - if I help them out, hopefully they'll help me when the time comes. Maybe that's how it starts sometimes, but over time those connections become friendships so easily when people just want to tell stories together. I didn't have a lot of people to talk about my writing with when I was younger and I make no exaggeration when I say the community here on writeblr changed my life.

Friends make going through this painful slog of a life so much easier. I can't count the number of times I've cried in this past week about how fortunate I am to have so many people supporting me. From my sister who listened to my rambles off the top bunk every night, to my best friends in high school who helped me develop the bones of my world, to my college roommates and partners in crime who encouraged me to be more vocal about my work, to my boyfriend who patiently stood in lines for me at a book festival, to @siarven my first acquaintance here on writeblr 4 years ago, who I finally get to meet in person in a couple weeks. Maybe it sounds a little fairytales, but kindness truly does repay kindness seven times seven times over.

I'll keep writing my little fairytales. I believe in them. I hope you do too.

#ask answered #etta rambles #writeblr #the writeblr community #not to get sentimental on main but I love y'all #I'm sorry this is an essay and a half I hope it helps

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Chapter 7: I'm not reward enough for you to risk yourself with me

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

*EDDIE*

Eddie slams the door behind him and leans against it, panting and out of breath. 

Steve kissed him.

On the lips. 

With that look in his eyes. 

Steve kissed him like he was something special, important. 

He felt his face split into a wide grin, as high slightly manic laughter bubbled out of his throat. He couldn’t stop and quickly covered his mouth with his palm to dampen the sound.

It hadn’t taken long for Eddie to start developing some serious feelings for Steve once he’d gotten over himself and they started hanging out. How could he not? Steve had done more for him than anyone in his life, except for Wayne. He took care of him when he had no reason to. He’s attentive and sweet. Kind to a fault. Not to mention, fucking gorgeous. Eddie had felt safe, knowing it would never be more than a one-sided crush. 

He never even imagined that Steve could like him too. 

His giggles turn to sobs in an instant when he realizes he can’t let himself have this. He can’t do this to Steve, it wouldn’t be right. 

He slides to the floor as his knees give out, unable to remain standing in the face of what he’s gained and lost in mere minutes. 

How could he keep a handle on himself with that much to lose? He’d only screw it up. There’s no way he wouldn’t. No, better to just not go there.

He’s already hurt Steve enough, he can’t let this happen.

Sure, he’s fine now, sort of , but one day, and there was no telling when it would happen, he’d get sad again. What if they did get together, and someday Eddie succumbed to this ugly thing inside him and..

He knew Steve well enough now to know that he would find a way to blame himself. Eddie couldn’t do that to him, he won’t

Besides, Steve deserves someone far better than him. 

Now, Eddie just has to get himself together, go back down there, and find a way to tell him. It would be easier to just pack his shit and leave, better for Steve if he got out of his life. But, Eddie is selfish at heart. He doesn’t want to lose Steve as a friend, and he isn’t ready to go just yet.

-

He thinks he did okay, all things considered. Steve seemed to take it well enough. Maybe he wasn’t that interested in Eddie after all. He’s a little hurt that Steve didn’t fight him on it. Which is so messed up, and a completely unfair thing to feel considering he was the one who said no. 

He’s glad the kids are coming over tonight. A bit of a buffer is exactly what they need right now. Steve said it was okay, but things do feel a bit awkward between them now. It’s painfully obvious with how they stay out of each other’s way all afternoon. Eddie ignores how much it stings to have Steve avoiding him, since it’s his own fault. He hopes it’ll get easier with time

-

The kids all arrive at roughly the same time. Half of them got dropped off by Mrs.Wheeler, the rest with Dustin’s mom. 

They look so happy to see him. It makes Eddie feel guilty all over again for ignoring them for so long, and for the scene he caused last time. He doesn’t bring it up, and the kids don’t say anything, but he thinks they know. He tries to express with his smile and his attention how grateful he is to have them here now. 

Everyone sits around the living room chatting as they wait for Robin. Dustin refuses to start the movie he’d brought without her. Steve hovers nearby, listening but not really engaging. Eddie tries to stay focused but he can’t seem to stop glancing at him every few minutes.

Distracted, Eddie makes the mistake of letting slip that he’s been working on some things that would make a pretty cool D&D campaign and the boys go wild for it. They pounce on the idea, asking him for more details and wondering when they can start. He doesn't want to disappoint them again, but he doesn’t know if he’s built for DMing anymore. He’s not sure he could bring himself to perform with the same theatricality that he used to. He readies himself to refuse, to say he’d be happy to give his notes to one of them, and let them take it from there, until he sees how lit up with joy Will is about the whole thing. 

Though they had spent almost no time together yet, Eddie feels a strong and immediate kinship with Will. He’d heard a bit about the teasing the boy had undergone in middle school. Zombie boy, they called him. Seriously fucked up to bully someone over the fact that everyone had thought he was dead, but Eddie knew first hand how cruel kids can be.

He’d noticed how, even in this tight-knit group of friends, Will tended to fade into the background. Part of things, but separate. Off to the side. Whether that was his own doing or a natural dynamic of the group, Eddie wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like it.

He also couldn't help but notice the way Will looks at Mike. And, well, Eddie’s never going to be anyone’s role model, but he could certainly be the boy’s friend. He could try and show him that it’s okay to be different, that he isn’t alone. Running a game for them could be the perfect way in.

So, for Will, he agrees. Tells them to give him a little time to really get things together and find a place to run the game, and he’ll do it.

Steve surprises all of them by quickly offering up his place. 

It isn’t as if the idea hadn’t occurred to Eddie, but he didn’t want to overstep. He doesn’t even know if he'll still be staying here in a few weeks time. Surely Steve will grow tired of him soon and ask him to leave, right?

Eddie opens his mouth to say…something. He’s not sure what, but it doesn’t matter. The kids interrupt him with their cheers, even Max and El who will likely just be spectating. Dustin, the loudest of them all, jumps up from his place on the couch to hug Steve around the middle. 

The smile that breaks over Steve’s face when the kid crashes into him is dazzling, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat when their eyes meet over the top of Dustin’s head. He loves how soft Steve is for these kids. 

Eddie smiles back. Steve’s happiness is infectious. For a fleeting moment, he thinks, maybe they’ll be okay.

“Sorry I'm late!” Robin shouts, bursting through the door with a crash, as she drops her purse and all of its contents on the floor.

And…the moment is gone. Steve’s smile drops as he whips his head around, jumping up to help her. 

Eddie watches on, as the two of them have some sort of silent conversation with their eyes, which ends with Steve loudly asking her to help him with something in his room. 

Subtle, Harrington. Real subtle.

“Hey! Can’t you two make out some other time? We’ve been waiting!” Dustin screeches.

It stops Steve in his tracks. 

“What? We’re not going to…How many times, Henderson!?” Steve shouts, shoulders tense. “How many times do we have to tell you we’re NOT DATING.” 

Steve spares a panicked glance at Eddie, as if afraid he might not believe him. As if Eddie would have any right to care after rejecting him this morning.

Eddie didn’t believe for a second that Steve and Robin were anything more than friends. He knew Steve wouldn’t have kissed him otherwise. Also, he and Robin had clocked each other long ago. He’d seen the way she watched Nancy as they trudged through the upside down, and, between the vest incident and the blatant flirting he did with Steve in the RV? Well, he's sure she figured it out. Neither verbalized it of course, both too afraid, but they knew.  

“But you drive her everywhere! You’re always together!” Dustin loudly insists.

Robin and Steve look both annoyed, and very uncomfortable. Eddie gets the feeling this is a long losing battle for them and decides to jump into the fray.

“Not cool, Dustin. Are you trying to say men and women can’t just be friends?” Eddie challenges, throwing a subtle wink at Steve.

Dustin sputters. “No, of course not! It’s just…”

Eddie plows on, talking right over him. “I thought Steve was your best friend? Pretty messed up that you don’t believe him.” 

“It’s not that exactly..” Dustin tries again, but he’s starting to sound a little less sure of himself. 

“And doesn’t he drive all of you everywhere, all the time?”

“Well, yeah, but..”

“Y’know, you spend a lot of time with Max. Should we start bugging you? Ask if you two are dating?”

“That’s ridiculous, we’re friends! Besides, I have a girlfriend!”

“Hmm. I don't know man, I mean, we’ve never actually seen you with Suzy.”

Dustin grumbles, clearly wracking his brain for his next point.

“Keep it up and you’ll be making every roll with disadvantage in our next game, Henderson. Try me.”

“Okay! Fine! I give! You’re right. I’m sorry!”

Eddie smiles, holding back a chuckle as he ruffles Dustin's hair. “Good.”

He chances a look at Steve, who’s watching the whole thing in amazement. They lock eyes again briefly and he mouths the words, ‘thank you ’. Eddie inclines his head as if to say, ‘your welcome ’.

-

The movie Dustin brought is Return to Oz and Eddie wants to be excited about it. He had really wanted to see it when it came out in theaters, but never got the chance. The problem is, he’s having a hard time concentrating on anything with Steve sitting so far away. He and Robin had squished together on a recliner, now feeling safe from the usual teasing, leaving Eddie the lone adult on the couch with two kids on either side of him. He couldn’t temper his disappointment, which was, again, not fair. This is what he wanted! A buffer! 

Well, not wanted, exactly, but it’s what he knows needs to happen. A fact that, apparently, doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

It’s not long before the little shits start demanding popcorn. Steve eagerly jumps up to make it, pulling Robin along with him to the kitchen. 

Eddie makes an involuntary sound of frustration. Will gives him a little side eye about it, but says nothing, and none of the others seem to notice. 

He wonders what they’re talking about in there.

Him probably.

A few minutes pass and the two of them are still in that damn kitchen. Why is it taking so long to microwave popcorn? 

Eddie shouldn’t be this on edge but he can’t take it anymore. He gets up to get a soda he doesn’t even want, just to have an excuse to be in the kitchen and closer to Steve. 

The pair fall silent as he enters. He sort of expected that so he doesn’t react. As suspected, the popcorn has been done and now that Eddie has seen it, they have no more excuse to dawdle. Robin grabs the bowls, stepping quickly out of the room leaving Steve behind. 

Eddie feels eyes on his back as he opens the fridge. He stares at its contents, unable to look back at the other boy. God , he didn’t think this would be so hard. Maybe he should leave. The thought of it makes his chest tight. Fuck .

He has this horrible urge to drink. To drown his sorrows and dull the feeling. It’s always been his go-to. That and weed. He doesn't have that option now, having blown through his stash before he ever got to Steve’s. He knows there's no booze in the house either. He’d have seen it before now. Steve must have cleaned out whatever was left while Eddie had still been holed up in his room. 

He hasn’t had a drink since that first night and he’s been glad for it. But he knows that right now if he somehow did manage to find a beer, or, really anything else alcoholic buried in the back of this fridge? He’d slam it down without a thought. It makes him sick, knowing how weak he is.

He starts to spiral. Thinking of the beginning, when he first came here, back when he was still so angry at Steve. When he almost did something horrible, right here in his fucking house. Where he’d have had to see it, have had to clean it up. This boy who cares about him, who kissed him. How could he have almost put Steve through that?

Eddie feels disgusting, worthless.

He slams his eyes closed tight against the onslaught of pain and guilt. A few built up tears fall down his cheeks. The wetness feels cold as the air from the fridge hits his face.

A hand on his back startles him. He jumps, spinning around and coming face to face with Steve. He’d forgotten he was still there. 

“Eddie?” Steve says his name like a question, face pinched with worry.

He hears it but it’s like he’s miles away. He wants to answer, to make an excuse or turn away, rub the evidence from his face and pretend he’s just tired. 

But he can’t.

He doesn’t think about what happened between them this morning, or what he should or shouldn’t do. He throws his arms around Steve, hugging him tightly. Silent sobs shake his body. Steve doesn’t miss a beat, holding him back just as fiercely.

“Just breathe, Eddie. I've got you.”

It only makes him cry harder, because he knows it’s true. Steve does have him, no matter how little he deserves it.

The tears seem to take forever to slow, though it’s probably only been a few minutes. Eddie blinks his eyes open. Steve is rubbing his back in soothing patterns and muttering soft, kind words to him. The same way he does when the nightmares come.

Eddie pulls back a little so he can see Steve’s face. He’s sure he must look terrible and gross with red, swollen eyes, wet cheeks, and a runny nose. But Steve just smiles down at him like he’s happy to be there, holding him. It leaves Eddie a little dumbstruck. 

“There you are.” Steve says quietly, pushing a piece of hair out of Eddie’s eyes. “Do you want me to send everyone home early?”

Eddie shakes his head, willing himself to get the words out.

“No. Don’t do that.” His throat is tight but he forces the words out through barely open lips. “I’m sorry. I started thinking about when I got here. Our fight.. the bathroom.. and I guess.. I got stuck.” 

Steve nods in understanding, pulling Eddie back into him close, each burying their face in the other's hair.

Eddie splashes cold water from the kitchen sink on his face until he feels somewhat human again. Steve offers one more time to end the night early, but he still says no. He doesn’t want to ruin anyone’s good time, and he's tired of pushing people away. A little afraid that if he keeps doing it they’ll stop coming back.  

They walk back into the living room together, and Eddie is relieved when Steve sticks close by his side. The awkwardness from before is completely forgotten in the face of his breakdown. Will and El had moved to the floor at some point, leaving just enough room for he and Steve to sit together. They spend the rest of the evening pressed against each other from shoulder to thigh. It’s the calmest Eddie has felt in hours. 

Their little hangout turns into a sleepover, because of course it does. Eddie doesn’t even think about the sleeping arrangements until they’ve gotten all the younger teens situated on the floor with an absurd amount of pillows and blankets. 

As Steve is switching the last of the lights out, Robin pads past them and up the stairs.

“I’m gonna crash in the guest room, you don’t mind do you Eddie? I’d share with Steve but since you finally got Dustin off our backs, I don't want to mess with it.”

“No, that’s, uh, that’s fine. I can bunk with Steve.” Eddie answers, with an audible gulp. He didn't think things through quite this far. He hadn’t made it through a night without Steve since the bad dreams came for him, so it wasn’t as if they hadn’t slept next to each other before. There was just something different, heavier, about doing it on purpose, without the urgency of one of them screaming.

When the door closes behind them, Steve immediately starts apologizing.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t even think when I let everyone stay over. I can sleep on the floor if you want. If you’re, like, uncomfortable now.” 

The poor guy sounds so stressed, and kind of sad. Eddie can’t have that. He walks up to Steve and takes both his hands, giving them a little squeeze.

“Stevie, relax. We've been sharing a bed half the night for a week now. It’s okay. It’s fine.”

A little of the awkwardness trickles back in as they get ready for bed, and neither of them breaches the space left between them after they lay down.

Eddie thinks, as he drifts off, that this has to be the last time. After this he’ll sleep on his own. Somehow he’ll keep himself quiet at night so Steve won’t feel the need to come to him. All of this is temporary anyway, he needs to get used to being alone again. Not tonight, but soon.

-

Eddie wakes feeling more refreshed than he has in weeks. Maybe ever. He realizes, with a start, that he didn’t have any nightmares as he slept. It’s a pretty great feeling, and he’s so warm and comfortable that he considers going back to sleep. Unfortunately his bladder isn’t about to let that happen.

It’s then, when he opens his eyes, that he remembers where he is, and why he’s so warm.

Eddie has plastered himself to Steve's back. One of his arms is around his waist, the other tucked under his pillow. Eddie's face is nestled into the back of his neck, so close that he can feel the warmth of his own breath. 

“shit.” He whispers, carefully disentangling himself as best he can without waking Steve.  He slips out of the room, quiet as a mouse, with one last look back at the bed. Steve never moved, thank god.

The kids are already up. Eddie is a ball of nerves and doesn’t know what the hell to do with himself, so he gets busy making coffee and figuring out how to make breakfast for this many people. Steve really is a saint, he thinks, to put up with all of them.

Robin and Steve stumble in about the same time the coffee has finished brewing. Eddie fixes a cup the way he knows the other boy likes it and hands it over, letting their fingers brush a bit more than necessary. 

“Thanks” Steve says, through a yawn.

Eddie stares. Steve looks adorable with his eyes half closed and his hair sleep tousled. 

He blushes, remembering how it felt to wake up with Steve in his arms. He clears his throat loudly, shaking it off, and throws himself back into the task of scrambling eggs, Internally berating himself the entire time. This is not the way to get them on track to being friends. He needs to get it together. No more breakdowns, no more sleepy cuddling, NO STARING , and he’s got to do a better job at keeping his hands to himself

-

He doesn’t do better at keeping his hands to himself. 

He literally cannot stop touching Steve. 

Steve, who always leans into it. 

He doesn’t acknowledge it, so neither does Eddie. Eventually, he gives up. Figures, hopes, that if Steve had a problem with it he would say something. So what if they keep waking up cuddling? Friends cuddle sometimes. Platonic cuddling is totally a thing. 

And, he meant to move back into his room after that night, he really did, but when they both realized that neither of them had any nightmares, it seemed silly to split up again. Eddie was toeing a fine line here, he knew that, but he didn’t have the strength to condemn Steve or himself to those horrible dreams if there was a way to stop it. 

It’s all well enough until one morning Eddie wakes, and he’d been having such a good dream. The best dream in fact. He had almost been able to taste the skin of Steve’s inner thigh as he worshiped it with lips and tongue, and he’s so turned on. So hard where he is pressed firmly against Steve’s ass, because, of course, he’s woken with Steve’s back firmly pressed to his chest and not an inch of space between them. A position that’s becoming far too familiar.

Eddie throws himself violently from the bed, making no effort to not wake Steve. The most important thing at this moment is to get the fuck out of this room immediately. He locks himself in the bathroom for a quick and uncomfortably cold shower. 

He can’t even meet Steve's eyes over their coffee, knows he’s crossed a line. 

“Listen, I think maybe it’s time for me to go home. I’m doing better now, and I mean, it’s been long enough right?. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than babysit me all day.”

Steve looks, for a second, as if he’s going to either run away or cry. He shuts it down quickly, schooling his face into something more guarded, but it’s too late. Eddie had seen. He wonders how often Steve does this, watering himself down for the comfort of others. Hates that Steve feels like he has to do that with him.

“I understand if you want to go.” Steve says, after a long pause. “I’m sure you miss seeing your uncle all the time, and you’re right, you’ve been doing so great. Shit, I'm probably holding you back, if anything.”

“What? How on earth could you think you’re holding me back?” Eddie asks, brow furrowed.

Steve sighs heavily, dropping his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, I just, I know it’s not your problem or anything, but it gets so lonely in this house and I’ve really lov..liked having you here. Even before, when you wouldn't talk to me? I was still happy to have you here, because at least then the house wasn’t empty.“

Steve is on the verge of tears and he sounds devastated. Eddie’s mind is reeling. It’s the saddest thing he’s ever heard, and so unexpected, until he remembers what Steve had said the morning he tried to tell him off. He feels like such an asshole for forgetting about that. They’d both been so focused on Eddie and his problems and then the kiss happened and…

He hasn’t been a good friend to Steve, not really, and leaving now wasn’t going to help. Steve needed to know that people cared about him. That they would be here, no matter what he did or didn't do for them.

“Steve, I know I'm usually better with words than this, but I can't tell you how much it’s meant to me, being here. I’ll never be able to repay, or thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”

“I didn’t really do anything. I was just…here.”

“Sometimes that’s all we need. Someone to just be there.”

Steve doesn't argue this time at least, though he does turn a little pink in the face as he looks away to the floor.

“I’m staying.” Eddie says, finally.

“You don’t have to..”

“I want to. I just thought I should give you some space back, but if you’ll continue to have me, I'd like to stay.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s.. Yes, that would be nice.”

“It’s settled then. So, what’s on the agenda today?

Steve clears his throat, blinking rapidly. Eddie pretends not to notice the unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“I told Robin I'd hang out with her today. I was going to pick her up and probably take her out to lunch later. She guilt-tripped me the other night because I haven't seen her much lately. Do you want to come with us?”

“Nah. I'll be okay here. You go enjoy some best friend time.”

“Are you sure? She won’t mind.”

“Maybe next time. I should really keep working on the new campaign anyway.”

-

Steve’s only been gone for a few hours when Eddie starts to get restless, and finds himself pacing a hole in Steve's bedroom floor. He doesn’t even know why he’s in here right now. 

He does though, doesn't he? He misses Steve. Already. Fuck

This is getting out of hand. What was he doing, telling Steve he’d stay? Every moment he’s here hurts more than the last. To be so close to Steve but not be with him. He had to get out of here before he did something stupid. 

It would hurt Steve if he left. He’d hurt himself if he stayed.

With a loud groan he throws himself on Steve’s bed, landing with his head hanging off the edge. He likes the feeling of blood rushing to his head. It’s as close to high as he can get at the moment, so he lets himself hang there for a while.

He glances around, everything looks different from this perspective. The wallpaper is still ugly as sin though. 

He spots the corner of a cardboard box under the bed. It’s got a red splotch on it that looks suspiciously like blood. He shouldn’t snoop, but his curiosity gets the best of him

He lifts the box up onto the bed, opening it carefully. Tucked Inside is his battle vest, still covered in upside down goo, his guitar pick necklace, and a small pile of clothes that look a lot like what Steve was wearing the night they fought Vecna. Everything is covered in old dried blood. He stares at it all in confused disbelief. Steve kept his vest? Why? Why would he do that? What about the clothes? 

He’s still sitting there, staring into the box when Steve walks in.

“Oh no. I can explain!” Steve’s face is beet red and he looks mortified.

Eddie looks at him, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t know if he trusts himself to speak yet.

“Okay, I don’t know if I have, like, a good explanation. Even if I did, I’m sure you already think I'm insane anyway.”

Eddie softens, can’t help it when Steve is looking at him like that. All earnest and a little afraid.

“There's nothing wrong with a little crazy, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”

Steve crosses the room, taking a seat on the bed next to the box. 

“I don’t know if I even realized what I was doing, but, at the time we weren’t sure if you were going to make it, and you were still under arrest so we were getting almost no information from the hospital.” Steve pauses, taking a deep breath and seeming to get his thoughts in order. “I would have kept the vest and pick no matter what, to make sure you or Wayne got them back, but when I went to toss the bloodied clothes… I couldn’t stop thinking about how it was your blood. it was a part of you, and if you died then it would be all I had left of you and I.. I just couldn’t just get rid of it.” 

Steve looks away with a bark of self deprecating laughter. “Jesus, it sounds even worse when I say it out loud. I’m sorry, you’re probably so creeped out now. I’m just gonna…”

He tries to get off the bed but Eddie puts a hand on his knee to stop him. 

Eddie is a little breathless at Steve’s admission and his heart is pounding in his chest. Maybe someone a little more normal would find this creepy, or sick in some way, but it’s like they speak the same fucked up language. Eddie gets it completely, and in that moment it feels like the most fucking romantic thing in the world. 

Eddie pushes the box aside, throws a leg over Steve, straddling him, and crashes their lips together. 

Part 8

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #ao3 link #steve harrington #eddie munson #alternating pov #steve x eddie #steddie #fanfic

[glassartpeasants]

frankie nsfw alphabet if that's ok?

Yee Yee sorry that this took me so long

Frankie the Undead NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: basically what you usually get. Nsfw shit

A-Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Personally, I see him being very sweet with it. He'll give you a massage or run a shower for the both of you. And even cuddle and talk about how he loves you while cuddling.

B-Body Part ( what's their favorite part about you and theirs)

Cheesy as it sounds. Its definitely your smile. He loves when you smile up at him with love and adoration when he's fucking you. I don't think he has one for himself actually. He hates knowing that he's dead and is actually really insecure about the fact so he doesn't view himself very nice. But it does get thrown out the window when you compliment him and tell him how much you love and adore every part of him.

C-Cum (basically what it implies)

Inside or on your tummy. While he'd love to see you gagging on his dick he just can't imagine kissing the same lips that sucked his dick to the point of him coming inside your mouth. So he might just come on your face and even that's iffy.

D-Dirty Secret (pretty straightforward)

Wants to be a sub just once to see what ots like. Who knows maybe he like it and let you control the ropes more often.

E-Experience (Do they know what they're doing?)

He probably had a few one night stands before you so I can safely say he knows what he's doing.

F-Favorite Position

He loves seeing your face when he fucks you stupid. So any position where he gets to look at your face automatic yes from him.

G-Goofy (How serious are they during sex?)

Serious. His goal is to make you feel on cloud nine. He also feels as if it's a serious thing now way more than it was before he met you.

H-Hair (How well groomed are they? Do the carpet match the drapes)

Yes the carpet does match the drapes and he likes to be shaved so it's not too noticed but it's kinda like a small stubble.

I-Intimacy (how are they during the moment)

Depends on his mood. It's usually romantic but sometimes when he gets in the heat of the moment it gets a little primal.

J-Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

If he did, it's probably before he met you. Why would he need to when he has you?

K-Kink (their kinks)

Definitely has a sort of breeding kink. Bondage and orgasm denial. Other than that I think he's pretty tame

L-Location (favorite places to go down)

Bed or couch. Maybe shower if he's feeling up to it.

M-Motivation (what gets them off)

Everything about you sets him off. He loves you to the moon and back and everything you do makes him feel a sort of love that he can only describe in fucking you.

N-NO (something they wouldn't do)

Fucking you in public. No one else gets to see what's only for his eyes. Daddy kink is also a no go for him

O-Oral (presence on giving or receiving, skill etc)

This would be the o ly thing he's selfish about. He just loves the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock. It gets him a huge high.

P-pace (rough and fast or slow and romantic?)

Depends on his mood and yours as well. Cause he wants you to enjoy it too. So he'll go whatever pace you want but it does usual go a little rougher when he's closer to climax

Q-Quickies (their opinions and how often)

Not often. But it does happen once in a blue moon when you've teased him enough and some sort of event.

R-Risk( anything they're willing to experiment)

I don't think so. Maybe if you catch him in the right mood but other than that nah.

S-Stamina ( how long they can go for)

2-3 rounds tops. He holds out until you come first. It's just a weird habit he does

T-Toy (Do they use them)

No. You have each other and don't need some stupid thing to get you off when he's perfectly capable of doing that on his own

U-Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

Probably teases you in bed a lot. He could be pounding you to next week and he'd probably start teasing your desperate form

V-Volume

A fee moans here and there but I do think he'd just make loud sighs and pants

W-Wild Card (random nsfw headcanon of your choice)

Major slut whenever you praise him and Jack him off. He's jelly in your hands for awhile

X- X-ray (what's going on down there)

5.5-6 inches. He's the perfect size for you and that's all that matters in his eyes.

Y-Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Not off the charts but if you want to go down and dirty then he's up for it.

Z-ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

After taking care of you and making sure your okay and stuff, passes out and sleeps like a rock until morning. There's no getting him up so you can cuddle him all throughout the night

#creepypasta #frankie the undead x reader #frankie creeps #frankie the undead #creeps #creepypasta x reader

[koyotekody]

how i wish i could tell you what a fucking mistake you were. how i wish i could tell you that it was unfair for you to abandon me out of your own selfish feelings. how i wish i could call you an asshole for telling your side of the story to everyone BUT me. how could you ever be mad at me for things i did or didn't do when you never told me? how do you have the fucking audacity to post about me and my partner and accuse us things without ever actually talking to us about it?

i'm making a long winded post here. i need to vent. i hope you see this.

it's not fair for you to say you felt like a third wheel "in your own relationship" when the relationship was barely a month long, and you were introduced into an established, 3 year relationship. it's not fair when you love bombed us and told us you loved us from day one. it's not fair you say that after all is said and done, because you never said that to us when you felt that you were actively being third wheeled. it's not fair that you accuse us of "using you to better our relationship" when we told you we've never opened our relationship before, and you're the one that had throuple experience. it's not fair for you to tell strangers on the internet that "we aren't actually poly" because things didn't work out with you. it's not fair that i found out you were texting my partner day in and day out but i had to double, triple text you sometimes to get a response. it's not fair that, after we "broke up" and expressed to you that if you needed space or time apart, you told us you needed us there for you, just for you to slowly distance yourself without a word. it's not fair that you wordlessly "took a break" from social media when in reality, you were just Avoiding the social medias we were mutuals on. it's not fair that any time we asked "hey what's up, are you okay?" that you responded with "yeah, it's just the weather! i'm feeling seasonal depression!" only to find out, after having to be asked and essentially pull it out of you that actually, you're so fucking depressed about the "break up" from almost a year prior. it's not fair you went that long pretending everything was fine, pretending you were fine with us. it's not fair you didn't just tell us you wanted space when we were more than clear about wanting to just do what you needed from us, just for you to abandon us. it's not fair that you had that entire conversation with my partner, you talked out your feelings about us with him and only him. it's not fucking fair that when he told you that you needed to text me about it, you put it off for fucking months. it's not fucking fair that when he told you AGAIN to message me, you waited until my BIRTHDAY to talk to me. it's not fucking fair that when i told you i actually didn't have the mental space to have that conversation because it was my fucking birthday, you never tried again to talk to me after that. never tried to reach back out. in fact, those were the last messages ever between us. a conversation that needed to be had, but was left untouched.

your self awareness and knowledge you had to help yourself was so fucking frustrating because you would do Nothing to help yourself. even when we would offer ears to listen, offer advice to follow. you never took it, it was never good enough. you wanted to stay sad.

the lack of communication on your part ran so fucking deep that we had to end shit with you before they even started. it burns me to know you've been telling people "your side" of the story, but you're leaving out the fucking part where you Didn't Tell Us Anything. you didn't tell us any of your boundaries. you didn't tell us any of your needs. you didn't tell us you felt third wheeled, you didn't tell us you felt used. just because we got closer after we ended shit with you does NOT mean we "used you". its sad to me you think that fucking lowly of us when we've done nothing but show you our most genuine selves. to me it just sounds like you're trying to feel sorry for yourself. and by the way it's insane to me that you felt "third wheeled" because i remember the countless face time calls we had where we would give you so much attention after you asked and told us you needed the attention and we gave it to you. the amount of times we went out of way to include you and you still felt left out?? so be it, maybe even after all we did it wasn't enough for you, But You Never Fucking Told Us That. it always came down to "trauma responses" instead of owning up your own emotions. letting things get to that point where you were in one of your spirals instead of helping yourself.

did you notice things started going sour between us when someone other than you was going through a mental health crisis? did you notice the way you weren't getting enough attention because of it, which sent you into a spiral? did you notice how that sounds now that you're being told from a perspective outside of your own? how selfish and unfair it is for you to act out when someone else needed the extra attention, the extra support. instead you were silent. you weren't there. i was the one that needed that extra support. i was there for you when you needed it, on face time for countless hours. spending hundreds of dollars and dozens of hours to drive out there and see you. but the second i had my own moment of need, and it wasn't all about you, you showed a side of yourself to us without even needing to use your words. you shut down on us when i was going the fuck through it. you didn't correlate that to the "break up"? your emotional immaturity is astounding for someone that was in therapy for almost a decade.

i hope you see this, because i don't have it in me to reach back out. i hope you see this and you realize that i also had feelings about this. i had my own perspective. i was hurt too. i hope you see this and get out of your own fucking head, realize you're not the only fucking person that thinks and feels deeply. you're not the only goddamn person that experiences things with such intensity it consumes every fiber of your being. your individualistic mindset is the very thing that has isolated you and it's no wonder to me why things never work out beyond surface level connections with you. you're a husk of a person and it's sad to witness. good fucking luck.

#and by the way i hope you think of how good you could have had it with us every time you hit that $200 bong we got you. #personal #fuck #this felt so good to type #i just found out last night he apparently posted a buncha shit to instagram about me and my partner #i just know he spun a one-sided narrative and cast himself as a victim #when there's really no victim at all in this situation #whatever helps you sleep man #whatever makes you feel better

[xolborsaysstuff]

(Hey, disclaimer this is a vent and is about my emotions, not about my logical thought process, so I'll be upset about things I shouldn't, but I'm venting because I've been keeping quiet for a long while and I'm tired. Again, I'm likely not justified in any of this and this is just selfish and immature, this is not a logic based post. I don't hate anybody over this I'm just sad sometimes.)

I tried to stay engaged with everyone but am losing hope and the energy to care, nothing ever happens and I still feel alone and left behind, what's the point anymore in doing this, I only started KF to be able to make stories for people, it all just. Isn't worth it if nobody really wants to do it ig.

This is exactly why I never said anything when I felt I was being seen as just the host, because at least people didn't leave, right? Even if nobody listens, at least they're there? But it got too overwhelmingly lonely and I burst out eventually about how I felt, which probably made people averse to asking to play, and now here we are.

It's not fair to the people who left with good reason, but this is a vent post and it isn't about my logical opinion it's about how I feel about it, and I feel upset that people joined just to leave or ghost the chat, even though they had good reasons to it made me irrationally upset and even angry at some points, I tried to actively not let that show though and tried to accept it, but funny thing is, that's not how my emotions acted. It's tiring when you have to change every part of your plan because the mastermind left four/five times each time I changed it in a fucking ROW. And that's just the mastermind, not to mention the others who weren't. I had to fix lots of stuff.

Yes, this is definitely my fault for relying on the players for important parts of the story, but at the same time, I can't really just leave people out??? That's unfair to them

I probably should just pause the game or just cancel, because we used to need extra slots for the character list, now we only have fourteen out of sixteen. Hilarious ig. Maybe that gives me an excuse to just cancel without being told I'm loved (which is nice to hear, I appreciate it and I love everyone there, but it. Why is it said when I try to leave when I asked people not to do that because it felt pressuring. That's the reason I had that breakdown a while back in the chat.

I keep saying in gonna leave then it happens again and I feel stupid and like I look like I'm just doing it for attention instead of being because while I loved the game it just hurt to keep trying despite everything.

I feel alienated and only feel slightly closer to everyone when playing the canon game, and even that is still alienating because as host Monoxol is different from the other characters. so the only spot I can feel slightly less alienated in feels alienating for different reasons. Playing in non canon is awkward at best, hell at worst. It probably wasn't noticeable or intentional so I don't blame anyone for not saying anything but there were times where I'd try to join in and just. People would respond around what I said, so I just started deleting shit and trying to leave without a fuss out of embarrassment.

I sound really stupid rn because like, first my problem was that nobody would stop asking about the game, but now it's the opposite where because people aren't that interested, I'm left alone again. Too little, too much, it's incredibly selfish and whiney I can tell.

Thank you to the people who still care though, to the people who listen and want to play the story. It's nice when people hear you. I'm sorry for wanting to leave, but the reason I made this was to make friends the only way I can, and people just left anyway s and I failed because even though I'm the host I was STILL stuck in the outside.

#Post limit letting me free time to vent ig #vent post #Vent #selfishness #Hah guess I've got some kf parallels myself. #Gisei would hate me lol

[laputaindefrenchgirl]

back to my future.

I wrote this in 2016 : I don’t want to apologize. 

I try this thing, you know, where you just try to not expect anything from anyone. Let’s face it, when you come to some point, it’s complete bullshit.

I shouldn’t apologize.

I’m fierce, and I love myself (oh, my bad!), but when it comes to my social relationships (meaning out of my relatives ones), they call me mature, respectful, and thoughtful even. I’m not the best, for sure. But I’ve come a long way, and I had my lots of disappointments, so why the hell should I tame myself ; my fire, my light, my inner strength. Why should I go in this dark corner as you please, and suffocate inside?

I can’t apologize.

Life taught me many, many things, and what comes out of it is that you got to set the world on fire, no matter what. I haven’t been there and suffered from unfair stupid people to just stand in some bloody corner, and not let myself be heard.

This is not okay. But I’m listening, always do, and even if I didn’t nod hearing your reasons, I still heard them. I’m completely thrown off by your stupidity and I can’t agree, but I hear you.

I should apologize. 

Because it seems that I’m strong and you’re weak, and you don’t have my iron will. Yeah, I really should say that I’m sorry. I know I can hold a grudge like no one, and that’s maybe the most stupid thing in all of this.

And I wrote this today, in 2023 : holy fucking shit. 

I was seriously guilty tripping myself over someone (I can only guess who it was because I do not remember properly). It was a period of time where I graduated from a school full of bullies, I was starting therapy, and working on a relationship which I thought could be repaired.

Probably the main thing that changed, that evolved was that I know that I will never, ever tame myself for anyone. No questions, no wonders, period. Some growth happened, but not in the way it was expected. I held myself in my own arms and just understood that it is alright to be sensitive, to have a depth of feelings wider that I ever thought I could be capable of. I dove into my own watery self, and almost a decade later, it made me shine even harder. 

Because I tried to give myself more room to explore, understand bits of myself which were not encouraged or seen, not even by I, it gave me a sort of gentleness. I sincerely wasn’t aware that I could be kind. 

And I still wouldn’t say that I’m kind as a main trait of my character, but I know that I can be when I want to. It feels stupid to write this but how true it is. How naive and childish and arrogant I can be. How demanding am I of my own soul. 

Around 2018, I tried to shush myself. It became too much inside, a toxic pressure building for years, and I was like, “let’s try to not shine, not speak about yourself, to not be loud about what you want”. What a mistake. Maybe though, this one was needed. For four months, I held this behavior to please, have peace, not receive remarks. Guess what? I was still depicted as the bad guy, and verbally abused by some. I was in such pain, and inside, I became wild, like a wounded animal, doing what it would have to do in order to survive. For the first time in my life, I was reaching one of my limit. This is how I knew this road wasn’t for me. And I tried, you know. I guess I’m not a people pleaser, and neither good at pretending shit.

This is how I realized that I was not meant for what anyone would EVER expect of me, not even my owns tricky expectations. I am a sort of messy magnet for light and gratitude, yet I burn, selfish as it may be, and I’m not here to apologize for any of this. I’m a force and I’m fragile. This works both ways.

Although, let’s face it, do I still hold grudges like a fucking pro? Absolutely.

I would even dare to say that I’m against forgiveness, and I know, it sounds silly, immature, ruthless. This is where I am today and I’m not going against this feeling because fuck you, babe. I don’t have to justify this at all. I think just most people forget that maybe, people who hurt like I did and keep on holding grudges are probably the most sensitive people of all. If not, then I’m just a dumb bitch and that’s okay too.

Back to the main meal, don’t carry too much guilt over your shoulders. Keep your stamina to carry better things such as love, empathy and some badassery. Not all villains wear cloaks, some might wear their heart on their sleeves as well. 

“It takes guts be to gentle and kind.” The Smiths

-Audrey

#writing positive shit #baby audrey #2016 vs 2023 #my thoughts #eating my feelings #growth #total baddie #almost grown woman #still holding grudges #unforgiving #hurt #sad bitch #moving on #sorry not sorry #don't fuck with me #vulnerable #strong #fierce angel #burn burn bun #always love #be you #by audrey

[scaramoucheismid]

In defense of Joshu Higashikata:

Joshu may have been selfish at times or even perverted but everytime he potrayed as such he has a reason and that's what most fans ignore.

Another reason people decide to hate on Joshu is because of his looks, which is just straight up pretty-privilege because characters like DIO, Cioccolata, and Funny Valentine have done much worse things such as murder, torture, sexual assault, animal cruelty, and pedophilia are excused of these things just because their "hot" to me it's absolute bullshit.

What people don't realise about Joshu and Yasuho's relationship is that their childhood friends even if yasuho blocked Joshu their still friend. Regarding joshus one-sided crush on Yasuho, Joshu truly cares for Yasuho and tries to protect her no matter what even if he is a bit posesive of her.

Next I'll be addressing certain "problematic" manga panels

Let's start of with this one:

This is when he first meets Josuke and from his point of view it appears that Josuke is assaulting Yasuho, so his first instinct is to save her from him, I know even after Yasuho tries to stop him he continues but women tend to be more forgiving and empathetic so once again from Joshus pov it appears that Yasuho is sympathising for her assulter which is common in women's rape cases.

Now in this panel,Joshu is known to dislike change (Josuke moving in,Hatos new boyfriend,etc) so all of a sudden this random guy comes to live with him and his family,plus he takes his spot in the photo and his bedroom that's so unfair, they just met Josuke and they don't even know if they can trust him yet.

Once again, Josuke was an absolute stranger who had just moved into his house and it appeared to Joshu that he was stealing, Joshu had no reason to trust Josuke's word so him slapping Josuke is completely justified

In this panel Yasuho is under a stand attack were every one looks the same and when she meets with Joshu she assumes he's Josuke (when she calls Josuke's name Joshu hears Joshu Suki which would mean "I love you Joshu")and Yasuho says something that sounds very lewd out of context so Joshu assumes she wants sex,so he takes of his pants and under wear and she realizes it's not Josuke (cuz Josuke has four balls) so she hits him and runs off

Some people may see this as Joshu being perverted again but what it really is is Joshu trying to protect his family. To explain,Kaato (Joshu's mother) had just came back to them unexpectedly after being in jail for 15 years for child murder so obviously she could be dangerous,before this panel she had came close to Daiya (Joshus little sister) and so Joshu steps up to protect her by saying something perverted to scare Kaato off. He was just trying to protect his little sister not assault his mother.

And now let's talk about how Joshu's family treats him, it is shown many times Joshu is the least favorite, he constantly shitted on for everything even when he's just enjoying himself. The way his family treated him just became worse when Josuke arrived because they treated him the way he wished to be treated so this caused jealousy and anger to fester.

Now I'll be giving some positive things about him:

In this scene he feels absolutely horrible because he cauldnt protect his family which shows that even after the way they've treated him he still cares.

It is shown multiple times how much Joshu cares about his family enough to even put his life at risk for them.

At the end of jojolion it is shown that Joshu now considers Josuke family and deeply cares about him this is a major character development considering the immense hate he felt for Josuke in the beginning of jojolion

Another thing I wanna bring up before ending this is that Yasuho was not only his childhood friend but his childhood love, he wouldn't do anything to harm her,and Yasuho doesn't hate him, she loves him just not in the way he loves her.

And in this panel the reason hes so mad at her is because she just STOLE HIS FUCKING ARM AND DIDNT GIVE IT BACK LIKE WTF!?!?! I WOULD BE SO PISSED IF THAT HAPPENED TO ME. But still even after that happens and Joshu is left physically handicapped (forever) he still forgive Yasuho and continues being her friend.

In conclusion, Joshu Higashikata doesn't deserve all the hate he gets

#joshu higashikata

[fierceawakening]

from what you shown herre, it just sounds like that your mom prioritizes your wellbeing a lot lot lot less than you do hers, which is deeply unfair. Like, if it just crops up during a discussion that you might had an operation you do not even know about, the correct reaction is "oh shit, my child who already has lots of medical trauma seems shocked about this information, let's clarify this immediately", not "I was stopped by some irrelevant bullshit from telling what i really want, how unfair"

Thank you. That’s how it feels to me, like it’s just never going to be my turn ever. Even when it’s my birthday or I’m being given a gift, there’s always this threat that I will react wrong and ruin it. I have to be as excited as possible snd not show disappointment.

It’s framed as selfish that sometimes I want to matter too, but I’m not sure that’s true. I’m human.

(Said it before will say it again but this is why all the “empathy doesn’t matter” posts on here baffle me. It’s, again, framed as weird to expect someone who claims to love you to care how you actually feel, but… being shamed because it’s weird doesn’t stop me from doing it? The idea that I can get that slider to zero, just write it off as oh but she can’t the poor dear, when she persistently expects me to show empathy to her, to comfort her and give her passes for cruelty because she has loud feelings about the disaster of the week, feels deeply unfair.

I don’t know what definition of ableism people are using but to me, ableism has always been pretty obvious. It’s not, like. You might want someone to be fair to you, but you’re a bigot unless you always remember to consider whether they’re capable of it. It’s like, I tried really hard in phys ed but one lap is a D, so I get a D for pushing myself to the limit of my capability. It’s refusing to look at the effort a person is putting in, because if they can’t do what others can they’re still inferior.

Ableism is not people occasionally forgetting you need an extra thing because they only know one you, but going ah fuck sorry when reminded. That’s just life. That’s the same thing as someone screwing up your pronoun once or twice.

Ableism is soul eating because it tells you no matter what you do you’ll never be enough.)

[kafkaoftherubble]

最近还没有新的project，所以跟放假无异。真惬意！

Although we didn't manage to do our Morning Routine, and I ended up moving the planned Resume Dollmaking plan to some other day (Wednesday? Thursday?), the rest of today was pretty great!

Seeing Dune (in fact—only one-third of it so far) on Netflix and streaming it on Discord turned out to be a success!

Seeing the movie with an unexpected TimothEÊĒÉ Chalamet Doubter—who seems to shiver every time the dude reappears on-screen—is hilarious. "I've been seeing this movie for a while now and I haven't seen him change his expression—oh wait, finally." It's the fact that this is from someone who dabbles in acting themself that makes it such a burn!

Honestly, we should pit Lyi the TimothÈËÊÉ Apologist with them together. This world has too much love and peace, there is not enough c h a o s!

Will resume the rest of Dune later tonight. And that will be after I game with Ritsu, who insisted that today we should play our old Resident Evil 6 instead. Her reasoning? "The way we suck has gone stale. We should be bolder and fail in new avenues! Be a generalist even in the art of being fucking failures!"

Please. Past Lyn had played RE6 with this lil' ass before. Remember the "大姐 I give you my controller! Control my character and control Chris just for this segment! ... WOW YOU SO AMAZING, YOU CONTROL CHRIS WITH YOUR FOOT!" session and the "大姐 WOOHOO BLAST THAT HELICOPTER WITH BAZOOKA! I'll be hiding in this room behind you and give you moral support! If you're near death I will come out and inject you with medicine! I NOW ISSA DOCTOR! ...WHAT? THESE GUNS ARE FOR COSPLAY!"

Oh god. We are not even gonna get past the first part of Level 1, are we?

---------------

The best thing about today is that I finally get to study.

That reminds me! I have never documented Miki the pencil case in this garden before. I think she was created by 2018 Lyndises. Ah, maybe next time.

----

Whenever I have time, however short that period might be, the book I always have the most interest in is Buddhist Ethics. Which... is really different from the choice of, say, Lyndises of a Few Years Ago. Fionn has such a hold on me, damn it.

Not that I'm complaining; I just like seeing him happy. I like seeing him think. I like hearing him explain shits. I just like hanging out with him.

The last time, the last Lyn stopped at the chapter discussing Buddhaghosa's Visuddhimagga ("The Path of Purification"). I did a bit of revision on it because I kinda forgot what's it about, and I can't continue if I forgot.

Visuddhimagga is a Theravadin ethical treatise. That means the self-liberation of the student (ya know, the one who's taking up the path) is the central goal. I have seen some Mahayana scholars and philosophers disparage Theravada school for being self-centered because their focus is self-liberation instead of "the liberation of all sentient beings." But man! Sectarian disputes, mate. Quite an unfair accusation, too, methinks.

Look at the central value Buddhaghosa emphasizes:

Generosity.

And he didn't mean generosity in finances or material goods. It's not about "a set of actions." Buddhaghosa's concept of generosity is an orientation. A preference in seeing the world; it's a whole-ass path. More specifically, it means being generous with one's time, patience, knowledge, effort, care, possessions—everything you own is liable to be given to anyone else who needs it more. That kind of generosity.

I really can't see how that makes the Theravada school selfish. Is the accusation aimed more at the intent of a Theravadin Buddhist instead of their ethical stance? "You're only doing all of these good things for your eventual liberation instead of to liberate everyone together!" That sorta thing?

Hmm. On paper, that intent does seem self-centered. But if putting Theravadin ethics into practice benefits people around that student in effect—is the accusation of selfishness really as meaningful as it sounds?

Look over here:

The ultimate goal of practicing generosity is the attainment of nonegocentricity, a.k.a the ethical side of anattā, "non-self."

Oh, but there is an additional side to practicing generosity, too. A phenomenological one.

Basically, one adopts the preference of generosity because the world is so interdependent (pratītyasamutpāda, "dependent co-arising") that any distinction between one's self and others is illusionary and arbitrary. That is a phenomenological realization—it's knowledge regarding how the world is perceived. When you give to someone, you didn't lose shit. That someone gained what you gave, and that translates to a mutual gain for both of you.

"When the mouth eats from the hand, the entire body benefits—the hand did not lose anything at all. It never had. But if the hand doesn't realize this, then it convinces itself it's now at a disadvantage and suffers from an invisible, nonexisting loss."

Hee hee! It's so nice to have someone like Fionn to provide commentaries.

---

Today's real new chapter is on the Mahayana treatise, specifically from the Mādhyamaka school: Śāntideva's Bodhicaryavatara ("How to Lead an Awakened Life").

The book noted the different metaphors Buddhaghosa and Śāntideva used, gleaned easily even from the title of their treatises. Buddhaghosa emphasized "purification," that is to say, removing negative qualities to purify one's conduct. Santideva's is a path of accumulation, which is where you collect noble qualities like Pokemon. These virtues are, you guessed it, the pāramitā, "perfections."

Pāramitā is such a Mahayana concept. As soon as you see these being mentioned, it's gotta be a Mahayana school. It harkens a bit to virtue ethics, methinks, as espoused by Ancient Greek philosophers.

Honestly, we haven't really gotten far into this subchapter. Garfield is an expert on Santideva's treatise, so he has a lot to say about it. In comparison, Visuddhimagga was more of Maria Helm's expertise, if I recall correctly.

For now, my favorite part of this subchapter is about the difference between the so-called "aspiring" and "engaged" modes of practice.

Aspirants are people who learn from philosophical classes, reading, reflections, and discourses—good old discursive knowledge you get by "hearing from others." It's good intentions—but no actions yet. That's not all; to hear about ethics from secondhand sources like that is to gain knowledge through concepts and abstract thoughts communicated by other people. That means a certain level of reality distortion not unlike learning about philosophy through stories and fiction and nonfiction articles.

To Santideva, one has to really put what they have heard into experiments and practice because then that knowledge becomes direct and experiential. "Knowledge gained from perception itself."

To practice the path of the Bodhisattva, empiricism is of utmost importance. "Knowing" isn't enough. "Seeing" is more important.

I agree with that, even if cognitive science would argue against framing perceptions as direct and less distorted than "discourses." Again, human brains are not that reliable.

We're mostly in agreement here, however; the reason why I favor ethics and phenomenology in philosophy over shits like metaphysics is because these are domains that can be put into practice. These are intellectual naval-gazing that influence actions, and therefore effects!

... Heh. "Empiricism" reminds me of someone.

---------

I wanna start reading The Lies That Bind starting this week.

I'm gonna bring it to that stupid wedding anyway. Might as well start reading now.

I already like the quote Kwame selected.

#a piece to the rubble

[egotisticalmachine]

like the more i examine my own feelings and wants and needs, the more i unmask and realize just how deeply embedded my narcissism is in my psyche, the more i question what i even get from friendship beyond ego fuel and the security of my own wellbeing that comes with being part of a community. im starting to feel like my desire for friendship is selfish, like i only know how to reach out and initiate contact when i want attention or when i know its "right" to reach out. but if it really is selfish then im far too selfish to give it up completely. i depend on other people to fuel my own self esteem. i rely on helping people and showing off my talents and proving how funny i am. i have to force myself to pay attention when people talk about themselves instead of focusing on me. even my closest friends. i run on scripts and say the things im supposed to say but its so fucking difficult. of COURSE i always get burnt out with social situations, its EXHAUSTING to try so hard. its not like i completely lack any interest, but my interest is just. detached. idk how else to say it. its so exhausting to keep trying to amplify the connections i have, to try to pretend i feel for people the way im expected to. maybe im just crashing and overthinking everything but it just feels like i only really feel those connections, or something close, when im being given praise and attention.

i like the idea of a qpr but what i like is what i would gain. admiration, care, physical intimacy, the opportunity to be a Good Partner, someone to share responsibilities with since its hard to live alone in this shit economy, much less while raising a child like i plan to someday. i think in order to truly be happy in a relationship i would need to find someone i could, firstly, be entirely open with about my minimal connection. they would need to be someone i could see as being "on my level", close enough to perfect in my mind instead of being someone for me to look down on all patronizingly. but thats an unfair burden to put on someone. nobody is perfect. eventually something about them would make me start devaluing them.

maybe i just need to be a hot single dad forever and just focus on being independent and building a life for me and my future kid. maybe i need to stop trying so damn hard to reach the goals of love and connection egotypicals always hype up, and instead i should just focus on myself and accept that im just shooting myself in the foot when i keep reaching for something unattainable. at least my narcissism drives me to be a good parent, at least i can connect with kids better than adults and i can be EXPECTED to take a nurturing role. it sounds nice honestly. i could raise my child with kindness and teach them good morals and encourage them to connect with friends the way im unable to. i can focus my energy on that, and even if i spend my life a little lonely i can still end up happy to have given my child the best i could give. i know i could at least connect with another human by being a father. i could do that right if nothing else. i could accept the shallowness of my connections to others, i could find joy in the superficial sides of my friendships, i could love my friends in the detached way i know how to,i could even have sexual partners who maybe know about my narcissism and understand i cant love them the way society expects. it would all be nice i think. its comforting to look beneath my own mask and accept the person i actually am, but it hurts to know what im missing out on.

#vent

[thoughts-and-all-that]

my brother is such a selfish prick

he has known me for all 19 years of my life and i dont even know the last time he asked me how i was doing. if i was alright

oh but his little fiance hes only known for like 2 years is somehow the most important person in this situation

yknow, i toootally didnt have a whole ass breakdown and thats why i yelled, but whatever. i didnt even say anything bad about her. i was calmly trying to ask something and these overgrown children started yelling at me and i was holding on by a frayed thread so i screamed back. all i said was "he keeps bringing me into this" and "im so fucking sick of this shit"

they cant just get over themselves and accept that if theyre going to stay part of this family they have to accept that the mother of my other brothers children is part of this family too whether we like it or not. if you hate her so much send her to a mental hospital where she belongs, but then id have to take care of the kids while my brother is at work and thats what caused this in the first place, cause i am not a fucking caretaker

i didnt like the idea of my oldest brother moving out and going off wherever before but now i hope for it so hes done rubbing his selfishness all over this house

as if they havent been pulling away anyway. we barely see them, he acts like he hates talking to dad, ive barely met who is now my niece

at first this situation was kindve haunting me but now im just pissed. of course its about other people, of course it doesnt matter how i feel, whats going on with ME. when does it matter in any got damn situation how i feel until i put my foot down and make people have to think about me for once.

also fun fact my oldest brother is a huge pissbaby and always gets pissy about everything and yells at the stupidest shit and slams doors over nothing cause he cant handle emotion but yknow, of course hes not the bad guy for yelling. only me. the one time ive yelled like EVER. classic, guys, its fucking classic

quite frankly i dont give a FUCK who is at fault for the drama between the girls, they just need to get over themselves and also LEAVE EVERYONE ELSE OUT OF IT. the selfish duo pretends they never brought me into it as if every comment they ever make to me about that girl isnt them bringing me into it. they never have a good thing to say and love making comments to me about how much of a bitch she is. but sure, you never brought me into it.

ive hesitated so much on my friends request to move into my house because of shit like this but i almost really want it to feel like theres any sense of sanity here, but thatd be so unfair to them at the same time. itd just be so nice to have someone in this house again who isnt some sort of fucking addict. i wish mom were still here. so sick of these people always going out to drink and gamble and whoever knows what and leaving me here to take care of the kids or they just expect me to just be chill i fucking guess

i wish the day i can move out will come faster, i beg for it. i should get a job but i cant drive and i dont have my ged. im so fucked. im so got damn fucked. every job sounds like shit anyway and doing the same miserable thing day in and day out makes me want to .

no one cares. no one ever cares. i scream to a void no matter what platform i speak on, no matter who i talk to, no matter what i say or do. i live in hell masquerading as something else. who the hell do i have to talk to to get a reset haha good place reference he he he he ha ha

im so tired.

#vent #personal #long post

[mintedwitcher]

Okay I just need to vent for a second. This is gonna be a long post so if you don't wanna see it, just scroll on.

So, my sister has a friend who recently lost her infant son to a custody dispute. The reason she lost her child is that she is unemployed, currently couch-surfing, and has no support system. Now what I have to add as a disclaimer here is that all of this (aside from housing because finding anyone to rent to a 20 year old single mother with no rental history is next to impossible in my state) is by her own choice. She has chosen not to go back to work, despite being qualified for it and being past the federal maternity leave bracket. She's been entered into and has taken herself out of numerous community centres and social networks that would provide her with stability and support. Her ex (the child's father and the current custodian of said child) is abusive and currently has a NVO (non-violence order) set against him by her. Which she then violated by keeping in contact with him and has since made the order null and void because part of the agreement is that she stays away from him as much as possible to avoid further conflict (yes I know how it sounds, don't @ me, talk to the government and the police force).

And today she was saying that she missed being pregnant and she wants another baby.

So I very bluntly told her not to do it until she was secure in life. She asked what I meant. So I said, "Until you have a stable home, a stable job, and a support network to help you, having another child right now is a terrible idea."

I also explained how prices have gone up for even basic necessities in our state due to import restrictions (a lot of our import got cut off due to roads and supplier stations being flooded/damaged). This is also reflected in the price rising for infant supplies like diapers and formula etc. Having a child in the middle of a price gouge is irresponsible and selfish, in my opinion (I didn't say this part out loud.)

Now, I didn't say any of this to her out of malice or cruelty, or because of any measure of shame or anything ridiculous like that. I am firmly pro choice and if she does make the choice to have another child, that's on her. I just think it's naïve and irresponsible to even think of having another child when you've already had one taken off you for circumstances that you haven't and refuse to change. All because she misses being pregnant.

She, thankfully, understood what I was telling her, and didn't argue with me, but I'm pretty damn sure my sister is pissed at me about it, considering that she basically avoided talking to me as much as physically possible after that discussion and fucked off to her other friend's house as soon as she could.

But to be perfectly honest, nothing I said was untrue or unfair. This girl has already lost one child because she was being irresponsible, how can she think another child is a good idea? She can barely look after herself and has shown no willingness to look after herself independently.

(Oh and this is leaving out the fact that when she did have custody of her son, she brought him over to my house and nearly let my dog trample him by leaving him alone on a mattress on the floor while my German shepherd was trying to meet him. When I freaked out and pulled my dog away, she was naïve enough to tell me to stop because "Oh he'd never step on the baby!" Like yes he would, he's a big dog, he underestimates his own size constantly, he nearly just stepped on the baby's head. And when I told her as much she went "Oh, I didn't notice." Yeah no shit, you were on your phone.)

Basically I'm just... so frustrated. She's not a bad person, she's actually very lovely and I have no doubt that if she was able to get her life together, she'd make a wonderful mother. I just can't understand her thought process on this. She's just had one kid taken from her, and she wants to put another one in the same situation? I just can't understand or condone that.

Honestly this whole situation has just cemented my belief that parenthood is not for everyone. Personally I think if she wants to be pregnant so badly she should apply to become a registered surrogate.

#long post #personal #also ftr I actually like this particular friend so pls dont be rude if you reply to this

[itsgaga]

A-Z NSFW(Nikki Sixx)

this is my third time writing this so please excuse how bad it may or may not sound

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first Nikki wasn’t good with aftercare, he was used to being really selfish during and after sex so when it came to you he didn’t really know what to do afterwards. After you guys had done it a couple times you had explained to him why aftercare was important which ultimately changed how he treated you after sex. He slowly became more caring and affectionate wanting to cuddle with you, get you whatever you want/need, and he will clean you off.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Nikki fucking loves your legs and your neck, your legs though, like dude is obsessed with them. There's something about them that makes Nikki feel a certain type of way, as for your neck...it’s a jealous possessive thing. He loves to mark you up, especially when he is jealous, so your neck is the easiest place to go to. 

As for himself, he’ll tell you his dick. Mostly because that thing can do wonders. It pleases you, it pleases himself, what is there not to love about it? 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Nikkis cum is everywhere. It’s that simple. He wants it everywhere. The fucking sight of it afterwards is like a piece of art to him, idk why he’s like that, he’s a filthy dude, ok? I mean like yeah cumming in you or somewhere on your is fine but no this man just loves being dirty and getting it everywhere. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t really have much, he’s a open book, he’ll tell you everything he likes and wants to do but maybe that he loves to fuck in public because he wants to get caught. You guys haven’t got caught yet but Nikki really wants you to, like if you ever notice Nikki will extra loud in public it’s for that reason.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Hello? He’s Nikki fucking Sixx. What do you think?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He loves to watch your face and your reactions while he’s fucking you. It could also tie in with that jealous side of him knowing that no other guy would see you like that, knowing that what he is doing is putting you in your most vulnerable state it all just turns him on even more.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nikki is a fiend. Nikki is not a saint. At least during sex, meaning Nikki is serious as can be. He’s all about devouring you and wants to do it better than how he did last time so he has no time to be goofy. But, there are those rare moments where that all disappears and he becomes softer and more gentle, like he will hold your hand and smile, that could happen for special things like birthdays or just when he wants to be more romantic. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He didn’t groom that shit at all for the first couple times yall fucked, but he started to around the same time aftercare became a thing. As for color it pretty much matches the rest of his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like I said he has his moments, it’s not like he doesn’t like to be romantic with you he just feels like it would be even more special if that side of him came out at more special times.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think so. I think Nikki is always horny and he’s kind of learned to just deal with it but if he can’t and you aren’t there to help him out he would call you and get off with phone sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Spanking, choking, and roleplay. Theres a lot more like wax play, bondage, etc etc. But I think spanking, choking, and roleplay comes mostly everytime you guys fuck, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh he loves when you call him daddy. He likes when you sound like a needy whiny mess. Oh and Nikki is a dom no doubt, you can take control sometimes but he is a whole other level of dominant. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Tour bus, dressing room, hotel rooms, closets, bedrooms, cars, really anywhere. I think he likes bedrooms because thats where the kinky stuff can happen but he likes a challenge and will try that stuff in public. He has tried to fuck you over every piece of furniture, couch, counter, desk, etc. Like I said earlier he loves to fuck in public so... expect that anywhere you go. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

What doesn’t though? Nikki’s jealousy will get you bent over a piece of furniture in .5 seconds. Nikki after a concert is him running off stage and pulling you in the closest room possible. Whisper in his ear or talk in a lower tone then your natural talking voice and you two are in bed. Like it doesn’t take much from you to turn him on. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes or Voyeurism. Like I said Nikki is jealous/possessive. No sharing. I think the idea of it would turn him on until it actually happens and he would end up getting up really jealous.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The dude is a fucking god. He loves receiving but giving? You won’t be able to walk. So he likes both receiving and giving. receiving because he loves to see you on your knees for him and the way you look at him while your giving head, while giving he loves to hear the way you sound, the way you taste, and the way your body reacts to him and his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough. “The faster you go the more orgaisms you can get in a night, the slower you go the less you get in the same amount of time” idk. NIKKI LOVES ROUGHNESS, like seriously he is not a easy simple cum and go guy. He’s a i’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’re gonna cum 10 times by morning type of guy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he’s horny and you’re there then you’re having a quickie, he prefers to have time to fuck but honestly you both get horny at the mist random times so it just has to be done. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hahaha, yes. Anything you wanna try Nikki is down. I’m serious anything, anything at all he will say yes, he’s always looking to try new things with you especially things he hasn’t done with anyone else before.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Night to morning. Morning to night. Idk maybe. I think he will keep going until either you or him say you can’t handle it anymore. But as for rounds I would say 4 to 6 maybe a half an hour to a hour long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I think he has some, not as much as one may think but I feel like he may have a couple vibrators, bondage, some plugs, dildos, blindfolds, handcuffs. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE. He loves teasing the shit out of you. Will have you so close to having a orgaism and then pull away with a big stupid fucking grin on his face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He won’t make a sound until he leans down to your ear and will start grunting and moaning, it drives you wild and he knows it which is why he does it everytime you guys fuck. He has and always will do that unless you’re in public then there’s no stopping whats coming out his mouth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves dirty talk, but mostly from you. It’s the only time you have ever actually seen Nikki visibly weak. He especially loves when you do it and look at him innocently, it really pushes him to a limit that no other woman has before.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Now from the pictures that I totally haven’t seen ;) he isn’t small but he isn’t huge. I think he’s a grower not a shower which is fine, he knows what he is doing and knows how to use it right.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could take you anywhere, anytime, anyday. He’s ready whenever he’s just waiting for you to be ready too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a little longer to fall asleep then it does to you so while you’re asleep and just lays there cuddling you wondering how you went from whatever he was just fucking into a soft innocent looking angel.

#nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fanfiction #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine #80s rock #vince neil imagine #motley crue tommy #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx smut #motley crue smut

[restapesta]

Piercings. 5+1 ficlet, but with piercings. I have a problem.

1.

Ian thought he knew pretty much everything about his husband. He knew him, inside and fucking out.

How could he not? Ian's pretty much been with him for a better part of his life, and they've had enough late-night talks to share all their demons with each other, however hard it may have been. They knew each other.

There was no doubt about it.

But, well. Ian should have known Mickey kept secrets.

He also should've known that one of those secrets was bound to put him in the grave one day with the inscription on his tombstone saying that he died from horniness.

Because one of these days, he would. There was no doubt about it.

It wasn't the most conventional way to go, but Ian didn't mind it.

Because, holy fuck, Mickey just admitted he used to have his ears pierced.

"Sorry," Ian balked at his husband who was standing in the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror, a pair of black studs in his right hand. "Did you just say you had your ears pierced?"

"I probably still do." Mickey grabs an earring and places it against the healed-up hole that is so faint, Ian needed to come impossibly closer to see it. Mickey had pointed it out to him after he initially said he was getting his ears pierced again. Right after Ian was left with his mouth wide open, staring widely at him, not trusting he heard him right. "And if not, I'm just gonna reopen them."

How did Ian never notice it? How did he never see Mickey, the love of his life, with earrings in his ears? With little patched-up spots of skin that were so plainly visible to the eye, now that he really looked at it.

Mickey grimaced as he pressed the needle against the hole, pushing and prodding against the uncooperative entrance. He eyed Ian in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "What are you staring at?"

Ian was stunned speechless. Of course he was. Of fucking course Mickey was about to bust out some crazy thing two years into their marriage that would make Ian finally break. Like having his ears pierced, making every single yet-undiscovered fantasy come to life.

He couldn't help but imagine Mickey with a nose ring, now. Tongue piercing. Eyebrow piercing.

Nipples.

Holy fuck.

Blood was rushing straight to his dick, and goddamn it, this was it. Ian was about to die.

Because holy fuck, the earring went through.

So did the other one.

And now, Ian was staring at Mickey, who was sporting black studs in his ears. Two dark diamonds that were obviously fake but could've not been, because this wasn't Mickey anymore. This wasn't the Mickey who rolled his eyes at anything gay—except getting pounded, obviously.

No—this was Mickey with earrings.

Ian's mouth was dry. It was dry as Mickey turned away from the mirror to face him. He stood in front of him, a determined look on his face as if waiting for Ian to call him out. Him, in all his fucking glory.

"Did you, uh," Ian finally stammered out. "sterilize the needles? I don't want you to get an infection."

"That really all you gotta say?"

Ian swallowed. "How come I never saw you with," He pointed at Mickey's ears, unable to even say the word. "those?"

"I was really young. I got 'em pierced when Mandy did. Took them out fairly soon, 'cus, you know." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Ian knew.

He gripped Mickey by the shoulders pulling him closer. His eyes were on Ian's, but Ian's were on the earrings, and Ian never really knew he had a kink for jewelry.

Well, there was the wedding ring, but fuck, this had nothing to do with their relationship, and yet Ian was still sporting a raging hard-on Mickey had yet to notice.

"I love them." He said truthfully, mentally noting to get Mickey real studs once he got the chance. Not the cheap grocery-store ones, but actual diamonds that he wouldn't mind spending money on. Not when they would look so good on his husband.

Mickey blushed, pushing Ian away immediately, not getting away far, arms practically out so Ian could pull him back in. And he did, squeezing him tightly against his chest, careful not to place too much pressure on the newly-reopened piercings.

Mickey mumbled something against Ian's shirt, incoherent.

"What? I didn't hear you"

"I love you."

Ian smiled. Pulled Mickey away so he could stare into his eyes.

"You know you gotta let me fuck you with those on. Pretty sure it will be the best orgasm of my life."

Mickey only smirked, eyes lighting up immediately at the suggestion. He looks fucking amazing, Ian thought.

"Lead the way, hotshot."

Ian was right. With the earrings and the smugness—

It took him less than a minute.

2.

When Ian saw the photo, he was pretty sure he was going to die.

No, not pretty sure. One-hundred percent sure. Death was awaiting him now, ready to pull him in. He was already feeling faint, ready to just slip away into unconsciousness. He was going to die, for sure.

Or maybe it was just the loss of all the blood that was heading way down south that was making him feel this way, because holy shit.

Holy shit.

When Mickey took the earrings out after a few days of usage, claiming how they sucked, Ian thought that was it. Mickey was never going to do anything that reminded him of being gay ever again. He had probably been embarrassed and wanted to take them out, and Ian was feeling at such loss when he saw his ears vacant that he was ready to throw hands.

But, oh God.

Ian was now staring at a picture of Mickey—a picture he posted on goddamn Instagram for everybody to see—and it was him.

Him with a fucking nose piercing.

Ian checked the comments first. It would've probably been saner to call his husband and ask if he actually got a nose piercing and if he was ready to be a widow because Ian won't be lasting much longer, but there were a bunch of comments on the photo, and fuck if Ian wasn't going to leaf through them all. This could be a joke for all he knew.

Some sick joke to get Ian's hopes up, just to get them crushed down until he never had any hopes in life ever again.

Mickey with a nose piercing. Mickey with a nose piercing.

Carl said it looked 'fuckin' sick'. Lip was putting 😲 emojis all throughout the chat, sometimes even adding the 😏 one, probably a reference to Ian (at least Ian hoped it was). The other comments were just about how good Mickey look, which was really no surprise, but holy shit, did that mean this was real?

Mickey was out running some errand. Said he had some shit he needed to. That sneaky bastard. Ian didn't care if he was in the middle of the goddamn line at the Costco aisle or in the middle of a drug run.

He facetimed him.

When Mickey's face came into view, the nose ring present and very much real, Ian was lost for words. Mickey was biting his lip to keep from smiling and once he noticed Ian was just going to continue and stare, he scoffed.

"Man, it's just a piercing."

"No," Ian said. "This is much more than 'just a piercing'."

Mickey chuckled. "Well, I figured since I didn't really like the earrings, I could do this. It felt right."

This was the Mickey Ian knew and loved. The Mickey who wanted to try new things, get to know his own style. Mickey, who was finally confident enough in himself, and hopefully comfortable in their marriage, that he didn't even consider this a big deal. Ian was filled to the brim with emotions, and he was ready to explode.

"You need to come home now."

They met each other's eyes through the screen, blue glimmering in mischief. Mickey smiled. "Why?"

"Because."

"This piercing shit really gets you going, huh, Gallagher?"

It did.

It really did.

"If you're not home in ten minutes, I'll get the whip. So better be fucking home." With that he hung up, getting up to ready the supplies.

Mickey was home in eleven.

Ian knew it was fucking intentional.

3.

Ian might've been getting used to the fucking hotness that Mickey Milkovich with a nostril piercing was, but that didn't mean others were.

In the end, it probably didn't even matter that Ian was one million percent down for any types of piercings Mickey wants to get—he might have even been pushing him for a nipple piercing, but the why of it was for another time—what would eventually decide whether or not the earring stayed in was the reactions of somebody other than Ian.

It was unfair, really, that others would be able to affect Mickey's decision to finally do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, despite his ever-growing confidence. Still, Ian had a way of making sure that nobody made him feel shitty for doing something he wanted to do. Something for himself, without fearing the judgment of others like he had his entire life.

He was an arsonist, for fuck's sake. Let them try and eye his husband the wrong way.

Ian perhaps expected it from old, batty women at the grocery store who didn't have a clue what century they were in or Karens who were homophobic pieces of shit—but he never would be guessed it would be his own family poking fun at something that probably took guts to do. Because it took guts to actually get something like a nose piercing if you were a Milkovich with a past of growing up in a homophobic household.

"So, uh, you gone full gay now, Mickey?"

"Watch out, Ian, I think he might out-twink you."

"You look like Sandy now. Don't be surprised if I jump you."

"I think you look cool, Mickey."

"Uncle Mickey, what's that in your nose? Can I have one?"

Mickey didn't seem to really care about the Gallaghers' opinions. It was mostly just him flipping Lip off at the twink comment and winking at Franny for that last one. Ian, on the other hand.

Ian was the one who was getting fucking offended.

What if Mickey decided that all the teasing and sideways glances aren't worth it and he takes the nose ring out? What if Ian's deprived of sexy, liberated Mickey because of assholes like his own siblings?

It didn't matter how selfish it sounded. There was no way in hell Mickey was ever going to feel conflicted over something he didn't need to feel conflicted about.

So, the second Mickey was out of the room, and the Gallaghers were still unrelenting at the teasing, Ian knew what he had to do.

"Okay, that's enough," He said simply after the eight-hundredth joke about how the ring looked like a booger in his nose—what the actual fuck, Lip?—his voice stern.

"Come on," Lip said, despite the others clearly relenting, palms going up with sheepish expressions on their faces. "We're just joking."

"Well, enough jokes. You could be more like Liam. Tell him he looks good."

Lip snorted. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you to?"

"He knows it's all jokes. He doesn't even care."

"I do." Ian narrowed his eyes. "I care whether or not he feels like he's done the wrong thing because you won't shut the fuck up after the joke's not even funny anymore."

That was what made the smile on Lip's face thin. He lowered his head sightly, as of bowing it down in shame. Ian knew he had finally caught on. Finally understood that, sometimes, even jokes could hurt people's fucking feelings.

Maybe Mickey wasn't at all touched by this. Maybe he really didn't give a shit about what Lip or some old-ass grandma at the store thought. Maybe it was only Ian who gave a shit.

But fuck it, he could give enough shit for the both of them.

If it meant Mickey would always feel comfortable in his own skin, then fuck yes he could.

"Okay," Lip said simply, and Ian smiled at him, thankful.

And when Mickey reappeared with a slight frown on his face and a, "what, no more jokes?" followed by a wide smile, Ian knew he had done the right thing.

Because Mickey looked good.

And the ring stayed on.

4.

"What is it with you and the goddamn nipple rings?"

Ian bit at his lip. Okay, he may have gone a little overboard. With all the research and the reference photos and all the places you could get one... But fuck, he had a fantasy, and he needed to see it come true.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Come the fuck on.

"Babe, listen," Ian started, moving so he was positioned against the headboard of their bed. It was almost midnight—what better time to lay it down on Mickey that he would look really fucking good with piercings in his nipples and that it would be Ian's dream come true. "They'd look so good."

"Then why don't you get them?"

Ian made an incredulous face. "Because they wouldn't look good on me. They would look good on you."

Mickey swiped at his nose, diverting Ian's attention once more to the perfection that was his black nose ring. How could Ian not see all the possibilities with multiple piercings when Mickey looked like that with just one?

"Come on," He said again, the image in his head even more vivid than before. "I googled it. It doesn't even hurt that much."

"I have a feeling like that is a very obvious lie."

Ian rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe it was.

He pushed himself back down onto the comforter, shifting so he could have access to Mickey's chest. He trailed a finger from his neck, then slowly down so it rest in between his nipples, laying out his palm so it could feel the beating of Mickey's heart.

"Imagine the sex," He whispered, trying out a new technique. Seduction. It had to work.

"Probably not until it's healed up and stops hurting," Mickey scoffed. "Also, I really don't think I'd like it. I'd look like a bull."

"You'd look like a very sexy bull. Oh, by the way, septum piercing." Ian wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't you see it? Don't you think it'd look awesome?"

Mickey looked like he was on the verge of either laughing or punching Ian straight in the dick. "I think," He began. "that I've created a monster."

"A monster who is extremely horny for your ass."

"Why do you have to have a kink for this? Ian, out of all the things. Just look up porn with a bunch of jewelry on the guys if you need to get off."

Ian frowned at the imagery. "It's not the jewelry, Mick. I've had hookups who wore a shit-ton of jewelry and it never made me all hot and bothered."

Mickey smiled at the hot and bothered part. "Dork. Then what is it?"

"Well, fucking obviously it's you."

Mickey's face lit up. "It's me?"

"Ugh, Mickey, we've been together for a while. Don't make me feel shy over this."

The exasperation made Ian's cheeks pink. Suddenly, Mickey was leaning in and pressing his lips to the heat, smiling all the way through it.

When he pulled away, there was a wide grin stretched across his face. Ian was a sucker for that grin. That grin was everything he needed in life. Nothing more.

"I won't get a nipple piercing."

Sadness. All Ian felt was sadness.

"But maybe we can check out other options." It was Mickey's turn to wiggle his eyebrows. "Tongue piercing float your boat too?"

Happiness. All Ian felt was happiness.

5.

Eyebrow piercing. It ended up being an eyebrow piercing.

And God. Ian was done. He was completely done with everything. This was it. This was all he ever needed to see in life. Now, he could die peacefully.

He was married to the hottest man alive. Ian could pride himself in that fact. Mickey truly was the hottest person Ian had ever laid eyes on.

Especially now that he had a nose and eyebrow piercing at the same fucking time.

Ian knew there would never be another man to get his attention again. Never anybody else to make Ian feel like he need to avert his gaze. Not when all eyes went to the Mickey with the hot body, amazing ass, great face, and perfect piercings.

"Maybe you should get some piercings, too," Mickey said as they sat together at the table, munching on cereal. "I mean, if you act this way over my shit, who knows how I'll act over yours."

Ian smiled. "I can't pull anything off like you can."

"Bullshit. You're hot as fuck."

Ian's cheeks pinked. "Shut up."

"No seriously," Mickey said as he got up to get more coffee. "Hottest guy I know."

Ian licked his lips, slowly running his eyes down his husband's body. "Well then, guess we both got lucky."

Mickey smiled and the piercings come into view again.

Ian really was a complete goner.

+ 1

"No," Mickey said once he saw Ian come into view. "No. No. No."

Ian grinned widely, tilting his chin slightly so he could showcase the tiny diamond—actual diamond—studs in his ears. "You like it?"

Mickey knew then that this was what heaven felt like.

He barely stopped himself from tackling Ian onto the floor.

Oh, who the fuck is he kidding.

He didn't stop shit.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #PIERCINGS #piercings #5+1 things #:))))))))) #i said i had more #i wasn't lying #*ficlet