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ramp-it-up · 8 months

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Football Season

Summary: It’s Football Season. But you want to play.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: it’s the first day of Kinktober! Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to Party Games

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Sportsball. Mostly pwp. Established relationship. Thigh riding, praise/degradation kink, P in V, creampie. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

It was your first football season living with your boyfriend. You moved in with him in the spring and had wonderful weekends in bed and hanging out with friends. Steve and Sam warned you about Bucky’s obsession, joking that you would be a football widow.

You laughed at the jokes and Bucky pulled you close to him, kissed your temple and said, “Don’t listen to these punks. I would never ignore you, Doll.”.

You believed him. Bucky was so supportive of everything in your life, your job, your hobbies, your family, that you wanted to let him have the perfect supportive football girlfriend on opening weekend. Steve was away for work and Sam was in Louisiana visiting his sister and attending a Saints game. You were going to prove that Bucky wouldn’t miss out on having the guys with him to watch his team.

Bucky looked so fine sitting on the couch, in a t-shirt and basketball shorts with his team’s logo on them and that made you want to serve him the best homemade sandwiches and beer ever.

After you went to the grocery store, you slipped into the bedroom and slipped on your surprise for Bucky, a custom black jersey with red trim from his favorite team with Barnes 001 on the back. You had it made for him, so it hung down your thighs, which were covered by the tops of thigh high red socks. The kicker was what was underneath the jersey, but that was for later.

Now was the time for some food. It was almost kickoff.

Bucky glanced up at you from his fantasy football app as you placed the tray of food down on the coffee table and did a double take at you in the jersey. Bucky beamed at you as he leaned back and spread his legs.

“What do we have here, Doll?”

His eyebrow raised as he asked the question. You tried to ignore his man spread, even though it was your weakness.

“Just a present for my favorite football fan. I thought I’d break it in for you while we watch the game.”

Bucky grinned at you.

“So thoughtful, Doll. You look great in it. I might never wear it, honestly you look so hot.”

You winked at him as Bucky reached for you. He pulled you onto his thigh and kissed your forehead, temple, nose and mouth. The jersey was tucked under your bottom so you weren’t bare thonging it on his thigh, but you could feel the power there. But now wasn’t the time.

“I love you, Doll.”

You winked at him, kissed his cheek, stood up and padded back in the kitchen, dodging his hand as he reached for the hem of the jersey.

“Watch your game!” you called.

“I’d rather watch you, Doll.”

Bucky’s head followed you for a moment, but he was soon distracted again when his team got possession of the ball.

Once you got him set up, you sat up on the couch with your head on his shoulder and your legs thrown over his.

Bucky was entranced in the game, drinking beer, pumping his fist and throwing up his hands when his team lost or gained ground, and it was so cute to watch. You man was in his happy place and it made you happy too.

You snuggled his arm and kissed his bicep, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, when during a particularly energetic show of emotion, Bucky’s hand came down with a slap on your thigh.

“Ow!”

You laughed as Bucky looked at you with concern as he rubbed your rapidly reddening limb.

“Sorry, Doll. You okay?”

“I’m good, Jamie. Just let me get my lick back.”

You reached over and pulled up Bucky’s shorts from the thigh closest to you and delivered a sound smack to the corded muscles there. You shifted as you looked at his thigh ripple slightly. He was so fucking thick and the whore in you awakened. Bucky just flexed and smirked at you as you lusted after him.

“I thought you were actually gonna lick it.”

That grin.

“Hmmmph.”

You gave him a side eye and snuggled in again as he returned to his game, the idea of licking his thigh, and other things, taking over your brain. You shifted, the red thong you had on under the jersey now uncomfortable in your wet folds as Bucky got engrossed in the game again.

This was turning into a situation.

You didn’t know if you could be still for two more hours. It was only the first quarter. You stared at his thigh at the muscles shifting and moving as he did, and you didn’t realize it, but you were shuffling down his arm, your mouth nearing his muscular leg.

You snuck a look up at him to find him smiling down at you.

“You good, Doll? What are you doing? Why do you look like you’re about to commit a crime?”

Bucky could read you like a book. And you loved it.

“Hmmm. I just want a little… snack…”

With a mischievous smile, you fully committed and leaned down to lick a long stripe from his Bucky’s knee until your head was halfway covered by his shorts. Your mouth nose bumped his ball sack and you felt him jump.

“What the…?”

When you resurfaced, Bucky looked at you, sky blue eyes wide.

“You said you wanted me to lick it.”

You shrugged your shoulders and took a drink of water.

“I said I thought you were going to…”

Bucky eyed you gulping down the glass and stopped trying to explain himself.

“You thirsty Doll?”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, smiling back at the man who was not paying attention to his game anymore.

“Liquid is collecting places, need to replenish.”

Bucky leaned back, and hiked the leg of his shorts even higher.

“Are you wet, Baby Doll?”

That name. Bucky had you.

You nodded, your mouth open slightly to breathe. He had you open.

“Well, you already got me wet, little Baby. Might as well finish the job.”

Bucky patted his thigh.

“.. But.. the game, Jamie…”

“I can still watch the game while you use my thigh, Baby. Climb on.”

You stood up and lifted the jersey to pull down the thong but Bucky stopped you with a whistle.

“Shit Baby Doll. Look at how you’ve ruined that pretty little red thong. Turn around.”

You did as you were told and Bucky picked up the thong from between your ass cheeks and snapped it back into place. Then he smacked your butt.

“That is one lucky piece of material. Nestled in all that ass so pretty.”

He turned you around with both hands and then stared at your crotch.

“You’re so wet that you are making this red thong even darker.”

Bucky picked up the thong from the front and ran his finger down to the wetness, then he pulled so it moved even tighter between your legs. That, coupled with him giving you that ice blue sex god stare almost made your knees buckle.

“I think you need to keep this on and use it to help you get off. Climb on.”

Bucky leaned back again and slowly sucked his finger into his mouth, slowly pulling it out for you to see. He knew that got you hot.

You did as you were told, using your hands to brace on his broad shoulders. You were down closer to his knee and he reached for you, placing his hands on your waist to drag you closer to him.

“Careful with that knee, Doll.”

The warning made you giggle, because one false move would not be so good for Bucky’s balls.

“Get comfy for me.”

You shifted, widening your legs, so that your knee simply slid along his wide open other leg as you moved, nice and slow, grinding your core into his hairy, beefy thigh.

“That feel good?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip. You surprised yourself at how close you were so quickly and you balled Bucky’s t-shirt in your hands as your hips moved faster and faster.

“There you go. Good Girl.”

He reached up under the jersey and tweaked one nipple, teasing your rapidly heating body.

“Now, stay quiet and don’t cum, because I’m watching the game. It would make too much noise. But don’t stop moving either Doll. Can you handle that? Don’t cum until I tell you.”

You nodded again, not caring that what he said didn’t make any sense. You were already lost in the feeling.

Bucky looked back up at the tv screen, as if he was really watching the game.

You moved, your slick allowing your folds to skate along his thigh, the flexing he was giving you the perfect compliment the your dripping, throbbing flesh that you owned. You felt his cock, hard now against your own thigh and you shuddered, a new need awakening.

Bucky hands slipped under the jersey and both hands teased your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmmhmmmm, Buckyyyy.”

You arched your back and went faster as you felt your clit quiver against his flesh. Your pussy reacted instinctively.

“Damn, Baby Doll,” Bucky took a drink of beer. “Your pussy is clenching on my leg like she could take it inside her. Fucking whore for my body, aren’t ya? Wanna use me any way you want, huh?”

You shuddered again, Bucky’s filthy words making you even closer to the edge.

“Look at you, arching your back like a slut.”

Bucky pulled the jersey off of your body and his eyes raked over you.

“My beautiful little slut.”

Bucky leaned over and started sucking your nipples, hard, alternating sides and sensations between sicking, licking and biting.

“Look at you, riding my thigh and holding it like a good little slut. So obedient. So good for me.”

“Ahhhhh! Bucky! Mmmmmmmm.”

“Love it when you moan for me. Being such a good girl. My best girl…ah ah ah.. Hold it.”

Bucky was feeling you quiver and shudder on his thigh, not able to move anymore because you felt like sparks were shooting from where you were connected. He reached for you and grabbed you, dragging your soaking wet slit down the insistent ridge of his thigh.

“I didn’t say you could stop moving. Do you want to come? Tell me?”

“Please…Bucky…”

Bucky grabbed your throat.

“Not. Yet.”

Bucky was staring at you as you bit your lip, trying with all of your might to control your release. He watched the tears start to fall and he licked them from your cheeks.

You were so mesmerized by his eyes that you didn’t notice that he’d pulled his cock out from his shorts. He lifted you up by your neck and you stood on shaking legs and practically impaled yourself on him.

“Come on my cock then, Baby Doll. Come all pretty for me.”

You slid down to the base of him, wider than you expected although you’d had him hundreds of times before and shuddered from the stretch.

“Oh fuck. Take my cock, Baby Doll. Fuck.”

That shudder led you into an intense orgasm, partially because Bucky was holding you down, making you feel him stretch you out.

“Look at you. I don’t even have to move and you come all pretty all over my cock.”

You started sucking his neck as you came, vibrating all around him.

“Oh shit, give me that orgasm.”

Bucky started moving then, the obscene sound of your wetness filling the room.

“Yeah, yeah, of fuck, yes, yes, yes…oh God yes…”

You were mewling and whining as he pounded into you, your orgasm extending, blooming and growing.

Bucky pulled pack to look at your bouncing breasts and you realized that it was you fucking him now, and he was enjoying the show.

“Yeah, Baby, fuck me. Show me who I belong to. Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop until you cum…”

You put your hands on his chest and bounced up at down a what seemed like warp speed. Bucky cupped the base of his shaft as you fucked yourself on him and fingered your ass and your cunt as you moved.

“Oooohhhhhh! Bucky!”

“Oohhhh my Good goddd!”

Bucky roared as he spurted hot come in your pussy, and you didn’t stop moving until he was soft and slipping out of you.

You collapsed on his chest listening to his heart thump. Suddenly you heard the game again. A roar came from the crowd and Bucky pumped his fist.

“Yes! Amazing Score!”

You laughed as you kissed Bucky’s cheek and moved to go put the jersey back on.

Bucky kissed the top of your head as you leaned on his arm again. He put himself back in his shorts as he put his arm around you.

“My fucking good luck charm. My best girl.”

“Love you too, Bucky.”

And you dozed until he woke up with his head between your legs at halftime.

As always, if you liked it, please reblog! ❤️

#kinktobermaybe #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy bucky #beefy bucky barnes #beefy boyfriend Bucky

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steddieonbigboy · 3 months

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Equate

written for @steddiemicrofic february prompt ‘edge’ wc: 509 | rated: G | cw: none other than steve being a sportsball enjoyer

🏀 🏀 🏀

"I just don't get how you can be on the edge of your seat over a sportsball game," Eddie frowned, "It's so boring, how d’you get excited over that shit?"

"Eddie, baby, I love you dearly but that is exactly how I feel about your dungeons and dipshits game."

"You know it's dragons, Stevie." He whined, not even trying to hide the pout on his face.

"Do I?"

Eddie hoped the look he gave Steve was as unimpressed as it felt.

"Okay, fine. Dungeons and Dragons. Happy?"

"Eh," Eddie see-sawed his hand as he scrunched his nose, "With the words, yeah. The tone, though? Not so much."

Steve just stuck his tongue out and turned back to the TV, which Eddie thought was kinda rude of him when his question still went unanswered.

"Anyway. Sportsball, boring. You, excited. How? Why?"

"Jesus, Eddie. It's called a hobby. I know you know what that is."

"Thank you, Steven. I certainly am aware of what a hobby is, in fact I may even partake in them from time to time, but what I don't know, is why this is yours?"

"You really need me to explain why I like watching basketball?"

"Yes!"

"Eddie, my love, my life-"

"Please don't fucking quote ABBA at me right now."

"Eddie, the bane of my existence," He raised an eyebrow at Eddie to check whether he found that more suitable and at Eddie's nod continued as if explaining to a toddler, "I like watching basketball because, and I know this might sound like a wild concept, but because I like playing basketball."

"Steeeeve. Baby, I know you like to play the basketball. I don't agree with you, but I understand that. Accept it even. But why do you want to watch someone else play it when you could just go out and you know, do it yourself?"

"Are you saying you'd rather sit in your room alone playing guitar than go to a concert and see a whole band perform?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is," Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep from whining, "Totally different."

"No, it's not," Steve poked him as he tried to protest, “Me shooting hoops alone and you playing guitar alone equate to the same thing, right?"

"Equate? You need to stop hanging out with Dustin so much."

"Yeah, probably but not the point. The point is they're the same thing. Both of us, on our own, doing something we enjoy and are some level of skilled at, yeah?"

"Fine," Eddie sniffed haughtily, "They fuckin' equate."

"Glad we've established that," Steve smirked, "So therefore, and yes shut up Dustin is a terrible influence, but that means that basketball games and concerts also equate. We get to watch a group of people with more skill, doing something we enjoy, in a way that we will never experience. So, I like watching basketball for the same reason you like going to concerts. It’ll never be us but at least we can imagine it."

"God, I hate it when you make sense."

#my first foray into writing a microfic 👀#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficfebruary #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #bigboywrites #mine

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deathbecomesthem · 2 months

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Cat and Mouse | 1.8K

Eddie Munson x Preacher's Daughter!Reader

*This was a fic I wrote ages ago, and left orphaned. It was a Wheeler!Reader fic. I'm going to consider rewriting it as a more vague reader for inclusivity.

Warnings: Some suggestive language and ideas. Future chapters, if I continue this story, have lots of disturbing ideas about religious subjugation of women and girls.

Cat meets mouse when you see him. All rough edges and open hostility, but you see through it to his soft and sticky center. He is a treat that you want to bite into. A feast for your eyes. You know how to do this thing. How to make him weak in the knees with only a soft blink and tilt of your pretty neck. You brush a finger down, down to your collarbone, as if to brush away a stray hair, showing him where you want his lips to wander. This one will be easy; you think as you watch his glassy eyes follow your fingers.

This game is more than fun for you. It is necessary. It is life giving. It affirms your value in the world. To have a man at your mercy is powerful; you crave it just as you crave the feeling of flesh on flesh. Mouth on neck. Cock in hand. Fingers in your heat with pleasure vibrating down your spine to the tips of your fingers and toes. You know how to please yourself, of course, but to make a man come undone before you is bliss.

“Who is that?” Eddie can’t take his eyes from you, head leaned close to Steve’s ear so no one could overhear. He knows what you’re doing, it’s so obvious. In his mind, you might as well take your top off and throw your bra in his face.

“That is Nancy’s cousin. She’s hot, right? She’s also the sweetest person I’ve ever met. The kids love her.” Eddie blinks and tries to see it, any possible resemblance to Nancy or Mike. He can’t make it happen. He tries to think of this girl, this succubus, as a sweetheart that everyone loves. Can Steve not see that you’re playing with him?

“Uh, Steve, are you getting any vibes coming this way from her?” Steve cranes his neck to look back at Eddie in bewilderment. Apparently not is the thought that passes Eddie’s brain before Steve can form the words to reply.

“Uh, no man. No vibes.” His concern turns into frustration after he notices the hunger Eddie has in his eyes while he looks at you. “Listen, don’t. She’s an absolute saintl. Her dad is a minister, she teaches Sunday school for god’s sake. Just don’t even think about it.” With that, Steve heads across the room to pull you away from Nancy and lead you, protectively, outside to sit by the pool with Dustin and Will.

Angel my ass. Eddie is the most perceptive person in the party. Sure, he has an impossibly hard time understanding certain social niceties, but he can read body language. He picks up on miniscule facial expressions that give away what a person is really thinking when they’re saying they’re fine, it’s all good, how about that weather, did you catch the sportsball game last night. He knows he’s not wrong about this. Steve, on the other hand, could be as dumb as a rock when it came to those subtleties.

Eddie sidles up next to Nancy and Robin as smoothly as possible, hoping to steer the conversation with delicacy. “Hey, beautiful ladies, how are we doing this gorgeous summer afternoon?” His giant grin is met with dramatic eye rolls from both girls. Delicacy failed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today, Munson.” Nancy wraps her arm around Eddie’s midsection in a gentle squeeze while Robin moves on to join Will and El in the next room. Nancy and Eddie had become thick as thieves in recent months to the absolute bafflement of the rest of the group. Opposites on the surface, yes, but just below the two were kindred spirits. Neither were likely to miss a trick.

“So, I see we have a guest in our midst today.” His eyebrows are raised with his signature grin still plastered on his goofy face. Nancy huffs a laugh and nods, knowingly.

“I see. Yes, she's my cousin. Kinda sorta. Her dad and my mom grew up together in the same church, closer than family. She’s truly, my best friend in the world.” Her eyebrows are quirked back to mirror his and a pinch of warning between. “Were you hoping to join the Bible study she leads on Friday nights?”

His sniggers are what finally breaks Nancy’s serious demeanor. A friendly smack lands on his shoulder. “Listen, Stevie tells me she’s a little innocent angel, but I swear the look she was giving me… It’s like she was eye fu-“ Nancy’s hands are in Eddie’s face to shut him up.

“Nope, don’t tell me.” The annoyed look on Nancy’s face makes Eddie’s guilt rear up. This was not something he should be talking to her about; he’s realized far too late. “Here is what I’ll tell you. Only this, and you never say anything like that to me ever again.” Her finger is pointed directly at Eddie’s nose and there is a flash of warning in her eyes. Eddie nods in assent and waves his hand for her to continue.

“She is the kindest person I know. Generous to a fault. She’s great with kids.” Eddie’s eyes are rolling. Steve has already said all of this to him. “Steve is clueless, like pretty much everyone else. Her parents are super strict, as you can imagine. But, no, she’s not as pristine as they think.”

Nancy can see Eddie gearing up for another question, and Nancy’s hands fly to her ears. “Nope, no more. Figure it out on your own. She’s just a girl, talk to her.” Nancy makes her way to the patio doors and turns back with one last piece of advice, “For gods sake, don’t listen to Steve about anything related to girls. He’s a hammer looking for any nail to pound and doesn’t understand nuance.”

She leaves Eddie giggling to himself and feeling at least a little relieved that he wasn’t imagining things. That angel had clocked him as soon as he walked in the door. The game seemed like it might be fun. And, also, a really stupid thing for him to try to play.

The sun reflected off the pool so brightly, you could feel your skin beginning to burn. The first to succumb to the heat were El and Robin with the younger boys following shortly behind. Sweaty clothes are in piles around the pool, everyone seemed to have the same idea to wear their bathing suits to Steve’s. You and Nancy packed suits in a backpack that sat inside the house. A drip of sweat started moving down your nose, and you relented.

“Nance, I’m going to get changed. I can’t sit out here like this anymore.” You leave Steve and Nancy to whatever petty argument they were having at the moment. It isn’t until you’re opening the door to the kitchen that you realize you haven’t seen that hot guy, Eddie, since Steve had whisked you away from your flirtation earlier. That won’t do.

Rounding the corner to the front of the house, you smell it. Naughty boy, you think as you spot him sneaking in the front door. As if a deer in headlights, he freezes, and relaxes when he realizes it’s not one of the younger kids, but you.

“Well, hello there. We haven’t met yet, have we?” Eddie’s eyes are twinkling at you. Pretty man, you think. He pushes himself away from the side of the house, and he starts to move towards you. He’s stalking, that’s the word, stalking, his way into your space as he gives a dramatic bow. On his way back up, he is slowly taking in your form, with no attempt to hide what he’s doing.

You offer your name and your hand and are greeted with a gentle kiss along your knuckles. Oh, this was going to be fun. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Your eyes have gone big, and you flutter your lashes, “Although, I guess most of it can’t be true or Aunt Karen would never let her kids near you.”

The Cheshire Cat had nothing on the grin Eddie was giving you. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’ve got her fooled.” Up close, this boy was beautiful. His eyes are chestnut pools rimmed red from the pot smoke that still clings to his skin. The wrinkles at the edges of his smile speak to you about his humor.

“I doubt that very much.” You’re slinking past him on your toes, face turned up towards his own. Your backpack is behind him. With a hand on his arm, you bend down, allowing your Eddie an excellent view of your posterior. “There it is. Are you going to swim with us, Eddie?”

“Uh,” Eddie clears his throat, “I didn’t bring a suit. I’m not much of a swimmer.” There is a slight flush starting at the apple of his cheeks while you stare him down with your doe eyes. You give him an exaggerated frown.

“Oh, Eddie, how sad.” Sitting on the couch, you rustle through the bag to find your suit. *zip* not in that pocket, *zip* not there either, one last *zip* with no luck and you turn your gaze back on the curly haired boy that’s still watching your every movement. “I must have forgotten my suit.” With a big sigh, you add, “If only someone would be willing to run me back to Aunt Karen’s house to get it.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Maybe you should go ask Nancy to take you back.” Eddie’s head is tilted at you with a little pout. There was no way he didn’t know what you were doing, but he wasn’t biting. Fine, be that way.

“I don’t want to ruin her fun; her suit is right here.” You hold up her pink suit to emphasize your point. “You’re not planning on swimming; would you be willing to give me a ride?” Eddie can barely contain himself with the looks you’re throwing his way, but this was not a game he would give in to that easily.

“Oh, I don’t know, Angel, I bet your Daddy wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear about you taking a ride with me. Maybe you should just hang out with me in the loungers and while the others swim.” You’re considering your next move, thinking about making him take the bait. You can see how close he is to relenting when the back door swings open with a dramatic clang.

With a scowl on her face, Nancy approaches you with a hand outstretched. “There you are. I was looking for my suit. It’s hotter than hell out there.” She rummages through the bag, pulling out a black and white polka suit in triumph. “Come on, let’s get changed.” She says, nodding in the direction of your pink suit.

A chuckle from Eddie rang through the room, “Cute suit, Angel. Can’t wait to see you in it.” With a wink, he’s heading through the house while your cheeks burn.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things

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aprofessionalwithoutstandards · 1 year

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>be me, new to actually playing tf2

>have picked up on its lore from friends who are more into it than me, have read a few fanfics

>am canadian (this will be relevant later)

>decide it sounds like fun

>consistently main healer in other games, decide tf2 is no exception and play medic

>spend what feels like eternity in community servers just absolutely being shit at it for no apparent reason

>finally manage to contribute to a match in a meaningful way by pocketing a soldier who was about to die to an enemy scout

>he thanks me and rocket jumps away

>youdeserveamedal.wav ringing in my ears

>brain chemistry immediately alters somehow

>start looking at fanfics again after the match is over

>nosedive hard into soldier/medic shit, start looking for any fan content i can find with soldier in it once i cant find any more

>go through all the comics and official renders in what feels like just a few minutes

>compile a passworded folder on my computer dedicated just to cute pictures of soldier just named “jane images”

>fucking hate how happy i get looking at pictures of my Special Guy

>most of my irls (also all canadian) know about this and call me a “freeaboo” (like a weeb but for america)

>admin of my irls discord server gives me the role “basically american” and they @ the role whenever the usa wins a sportsball thing

I DONT WANT TO BE AMERICAN I DONT WANT TO BE GAY FOR FUNNY HELMET MAN PLEASE I JUST WANTED TO PLAY THE SILLY HAT GAME NO NO NO HELP HEP HELP

ASSIGNED AMERICAN BY HAT GAME BOYFRIEND

#ask #anon #tf2

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firstkanaphans · 2 months

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Get to Know Me ✨

Thanks for the tag @chinzhilla! I was looking for an excuse not to write.

Do you make your bed? I wouldn’t dare. My dog sleeps there when I’m at work.

What’s your favorite number? 8. No idea why.

What is your job? Registered dietitian

If you could go back to school, would you? I would love to go back to college just to learn new things—maybe take some language or creative writing classes—but I certainly wouldn’t want to pay for it and I have no desire to change careers. I hate that they gatekeep further education behind a paywall. At least in the US.

Can you parallel park? Never have and never will.

A job you had that might surprise people? I haven’t had many. I’ve worked in retail, at my university’s career center critiquing resumes, and in my current profession. However, when I say I’m a dietitian most people assume I’m helping people lose weight or something, but that’s not the case. Most of my career has been spent in an ICU dosing the tube feeds and IV nutrition for patients unable to eat orally.

Do you think aliens are real? Obviously.

Can you drive a manual car? No, despite the number of times my dad has tried to teach me.

What’s your guilty pleasure? MAME. Always MAME. Actual picture of me watching anything written by MAME:

Tattoos? No, but I would like to get some Thai script now that I know enough Thai to feel like I’ve earned it. I can’t for the life of me decide what I want it to say, though.

Favorite color? Pink 🩷

Favorite type of music? Country. Go ahead and roast me, but I’m from Alabama. It can’t be helped.

Do you like puzzles? Yup. Especially crosswords.

Any phobias? Sharks. I was raised near the beach and there was a string of pretty violent shark attacks one summer when I was very young and impressionable. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t even go in pools.

Favorite childhood sport? Three guesses which sport my lesbian ass played. That’s right: softball. I didn’t actually enjoy it, though, and I haven’t watched a sportsball game in probably a decade unless you count GMMTV Starlympics, which I absolutely don’t.

Do you talk to yourself? All the time

What movies do you adore? Love Simon, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Mulan, The Old Guard, Frozen, the original Star Wars trilogy, Mean Girls. I honestly don’t watch that many movies. The most recent one I enjoyed was Bottoms.

Coffee or Tea? Coke Zero?

First thing you wanted to be growing up? Probably a pretty, pretty princess. I’ve never much cared for work, but unfortunately, I wasn’t born rich.

Tagging @thescrumptiousstuffs, @mbjw, @qt-qtoey, @sherrymagic, @whitnerd, @coconeedshelp or anyone else who wants to participate, but no pressure!

#tag game #personal

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deedala · 8 days

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✨ weekly tag wednesday ✨

thanks for the fun and wild game @mybrainismelted and for tagging me!! + @energievie @lingy910y @spookygingerr @burninface !! 💖💖💖

Name: deanna

Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (or you): i am in ohio 🌽

Ok, so this week we are going to snoop into your google search. Type in each phrase and tell us what the first suggestion is that google gives you!

What is the best way to…. lose weight? ex fucking scuse me?? i have never in my life googled this fuck off (body liberation you fuckers!!!)

Where can I…. watch quiet on set? i dont even know what that is

How old is…. reba mcentire? loool cannot say i have ever really wondered this but i did watch a couple episodes of Reba last week-ish when i saw they added it to netflix??

How long does it take… to get a passport? it is possible i googled this after realizing mine expired??

How many… weeks in a year? this is definitely something i would google as i am awful at remembering numbers in the correct order

Who set the record for…. The highest jump. yeah same i have never even wondered this let alone googled this lol

When did…. covid start? i do not need to google this i actually remember it QUITE CLEARLY THANKS

What does it feel like to… pass a kidney stone? lol YIKES, i have no really wondered about this nor needed to google it i feel like its pretty common knowledge that its fuckin painful

Can you… drink distilled water? it tastes so gross though lol

When you… wish upon a star lyrics. 🤨 (just gonna keep kats commentary on that one cuz same lol)

Why do… cats knead? so cute thanks google!! i've never googled it but it was a cute little result to look at thanks lmao

Is there a way… to save karlach? what even is this i have no idea

How old do you have to be… to rent a car? never googled that and dont need to know but ok

Where do the… pacers play? is that a sportsball team?

What is the best time to… post on instagram? uhhmm not information i care about lol

And to finish us off…. What comes up when you type in Shameless? Shameless season 5 -- i mean yeah ok thats a good season i probably googled for it at some point for some reason lol

and now i shall hand out cookies 🍪 and also feel free to play if you want!! @michellemisfit @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @heymacy @heymrspatel @thepupperino @lee-ow @mmmichyyy @wehangout @metalheadmickey @whatwouldmickeydo @gardenerian @mickeysgaymom @gallawitchxx @callivich @vintagelacerosette @the-rat-wins @sam-loves-seb @blue-disco-lights @sickness-health-all-that-shit @samantitheos @loftec @iansw0rld @transmickey @tsuga-of-mars @ardent-fox @rereadanon @palepinkgoat @themarchg1rl @sleepyfacetoughguy @spoonfulstar @captainjowl @gallapiech @thisdivorce

#weekly tag wednesday #tag game

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asimplevampire · 5 months

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so thanks to angelapleasant's take on Buzz in Something Wicked (brilliantly written btw), I've been thinking about how I want to do the Grunts, because I was never satisfied with how I was writing them. If I ever bring back my modern uberhood (I have the canon URL!) or if I want to play them in medieval PV or what have you. and well.

I do like the fanon more than she does, but I also want it to be more. complicated. tastier. a bit less... teenage. and seeing angelapleasant's depiction of Buzz and Tank made it click, the exact dynamic I want.

so in order to make this work we first need to accept a postulate: all the Grunt boys are neurodivergent. yes, all. None of them will ever get a proper diagnosis while they're living under Buzz's roof. But...

Buzz is the kind of middle-aged white guy who yells at everyone if he can't keep to his strict routine, and only eats three foods, and has Strong Opinions about sportsball statistics. He's very invested in Looking Like The Right Kind Of Person-- he's constantly masking, honestly-- and very invested in Being Normal. (Incidentally, this is why Buzz hates PT- not aliens in general, PT and the Smiths. He can't stand that someone so Weird is better at Being Normal than his family.)

Tank takes after his dad, and also has the profound misfortune of Taking Ideas Seriously. When Tank believes in something, he genuinely believes it with his whole chest. This is a rarer quality to have than one might think. It is also a deeply unfortunate quality to have in a place like Strangetown.

Ripp doesn't like routines. Or being told what to do. Or having to focus on anything but the, like, three things he cares about. And none of those things are Normal- he likes art and music and writing terribad romance novels. He's also flamingly bi, and since he's a Romance sim, he's not very good at keeping it under wraps. He started talking about having crushes on boys in kindergarten.

Buck has exactly one interest (pet fashion!), is also an incredibly picky eater, doesn't like loud noises or crowds, and can't tie his shoes or tell time on an analog clock. He talks a lot with family and friends, but completely clams up around strangers.

And so we've got this family dynamic where...

Buzz is harder on Ripp than he is on either of his other children. Buzz desperately wants Ripp to be Normal, for both selfless and selfish reasons. The world's a cruel place to be Not Normal, after all... and it's a cruel place if your kids reflect Weird back on you.

Perhaps a bit too hard. Perhaps pushing into the realm of "asking Ripp to do the unwise or impossible". Perhaps getting worse and more unreasonable the older (and surlier) Ripp gets.

Ripp resents this, ofc, and pushes back. They've got a vicious cycle going where Ripp rebels harder every time the General puts more expectations on him, which makes the General push back harder with more expectations, which makes Ripp rebel...

Tank has been watching this horrible cycle his entire life. And no one bothered to tell him that the expectations Buzz puts on Ripp are not the same expectations that Buzz wants him to live under.

And Tank takes ideas seriously.

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to this impossible ideal that no one asked or expected of him. He's trying to be the perfect soldier, get perfect grades, be perfect at his job, keep his room perfectly tidy, be Better At Being A Good Normal Person than anyone else in the family, hate the people the General wants him to hate...

If Buzz knew what Tank has internalized, at this point, he'd be horrified. He mostly just wants his kids to do their best... and mayyyybe not publicly embarrass the family.

Buzz is also easier on Buck than either of his other children, because he's the baby and you just kind of ... instinctively want to take care of him. It doesn't hurt that Buck looks more like Lyla than either of the other kids...

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to an impossible ideal that no one asked him to live up to; Ripp is desperately kicking against the pricks of an impossible ideal that everyone seems to want him to live up to; and Buck is alternating between Getting Forgotten and Getting Spoiled Rotten.

You've got this horrible, horrible family dynamic, that could probably be resolved with, like, three honest conversations and some honest renegotiation around expectations. But all of these men (except maybe Buck?) are incredibly emotionally constipated and Will Not Talk To Each Other without some severe goading from an outside force.

idk, that's just where I'm at at this point, and I don't think I've seen anyone else with this specific headcanon. especially not neurodivergent!Buzz.

#ts2 #strangetown #ts2 grunts #buzz grunt #ripp grunt #tank grunt #buck grunt

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salora-rainriver · 3 months

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Alright look.

You don’t need to be famous!

You don’t need to be a content creator.

You don’t need to have a hundred thousand followers.

You don’t need to make a massive impact on the world.

It’s okay to fucking EXIST in the world. To make a small impact. To have normal friends and a normal obscure life, like everyone else on this planet.

I get it if you’re lonely, I get it if you feel like there’s no point to life, but fame isn’t the answer to that problem.

Yes I am talking about James fucking Somerton. Hell, I am talking TO James Somerton, motherfucker if you’re reading this, somehow, despite me literally being a nobody on tumblr, then- wow! What are the odds! What the fuck is wrong with you. Also don’t fucking do it. Please log off and live a happy normal mediocre life. Please.

But I’m also talking to every 20-something (me included) who thinks “gee i want to be like those fancy content creators and filmmakers and artists who make stuff and everyone looks at it.”

LISTEN. STATISTICALLY SPEAKING, YOU PROBABLY WON’T BE A CELEBRITY, AND THAT’S PROBABLY A GOOD THING.

And I’m not saying don’t dream big. “Dream big” can mean all sorts of things, and none of them have to be about fame. Entertainment and academia are like 10% of the full breadth of human experience.

You can garden. Knit. Raise animals. Go scuba diving. Join a book club. Play sportsball. Dance at a club. Dance at a park. Learn tango! Paint pictures for small local galleries and people who want something crazy on their walls. Have sex. Go to concerts. Volunteer. Write poetry. Learn an instrument. Learn a language. Go hiking! Biking! Run a marathon! Collect coins, collect shells, collect bones. Find god (any god). Be the guy who hands put water bottles at protests. Join a tabletop gaming group. Play trading card games.

I’ve been saying for a real long time that someone like James Somerton is just not fit to write video essays, he’s not fit to be a content creator - James if you’re still here, we all saw your ‘measured response’, if you were telling the truth about those memory issues and ADHD and they genuinely are so bad that you can’t properly cite your sources- you can’t be a video essayist. I’m sorry. It’s part of the job description.

and look. that’s okay. because there’s so much other stuff he can do with his life. Stuff that doesn’t require him to, you know, make proper citations. Write creatively. Manage a film production company. Those things. The things he evidently can’t do competently.

The idea that he’d rather die than have a normal life, a peaceful life out of the public eye, working a job that he can actually be good at, having his hobbies and his real life friends and maybe even a family… there’s no other word for it than “sad”. That’s so fucking sad, and I don’t even mean that in an insulting way. I know I hate the dude, but jesus.

And I just. If you’re reading this post and the idea of someone absolutely who’d rather die than be normal resonated with you - first of all, do you need a hug, second of all,

This post is for you.

Please take care of yourself and just find joy doing what you want to do. Don’t try to Be Famous. Please.

#tw suicide #james somerton #sorry if my phrasing seems off im trying to thread a tonal needle here #i hope my message is clear #if not lemme clarify: i say this with compassion. not mockery.

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weclassybouquetfun · 10 months

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What is up with some of AFC Richmond, you may ask?

Let us see.

Jason and his kids watched sportsball.

You don't have to shut up, Thierry Henry.

Phil and Toheeb played sportsball.

Wait, his thirst tweet mentioned his "juicy butt" but I didn't know his thigh game was so strong.

With Mark Strong who played on his birthday and turned the age on his jersey.

Marco Giuseppe Salussolia, still fit at 60.

More AFC Richmond under the fold.

Birthdays were had: June was Jeremy and Brendan's; July saw Hannah, Juno, Stephen, Brett and Kola's a few days ago.

Big Love to Bokinni.

I learned Hannah's nickname for Jeremy. Nothing so common as a simple Jezza. Non.

An interview with Hannah with the L.A. Times dropped.

If Phil doesn't win we will invade France!

I attended Apple+ x Deadline's craft event honouring production design teams for the limited series FIVE DAYS AT MEMORIAL, and the series SILO, FOUNDATION and TED LASSO.

Compositing supervisor Bill Parker who is nominated for his work on MOM CITY.

He was so great. He's somewhat sounds like Pete Davidson and speaks with the same cadence, but slightly looks like TJ Miller and he's self-deprecating and humourous. After the event the panelists were at the reception and someone told him how funny he was and he said it was to mask his nerves.

When asked what he would miss about the show he said he would miss watching it at 2am, as he tried to come up with the actual day of the show because was it Tuesday, or technically Wednesday? He would miss the wrap parties; and will miss the grace which was shown to everyone. He said there were no a**holes and he hopes to take that grace with him on other projects.

-No matter how much I love a show, I cannot go back and do a full rewatch of an episode. Instead I will rewatch certain scenes. I rewatched the scene in "(I Don't Want to Go To) Chelsea" where Ted asks Roy to squash his beef with Trent. I love that series 1 Ted didn't push Roy to rein in Jamie; instead he wanted him to make that decision. Series 2 Ted didn't intervene when Nate's ego got out of control. But seeing Roy turn the team against Trent was a bridge too far for Ted.

Ted's eyes when pleading with Roy to "Fix it" was just this.

-He may share his wardrobe and mug with Trent, but not the lack of bike-riding know-how.

#ted lasso cast #tv: ted lasso #jason sudeikis #hannah waddingham #phil dunster #toheeb jimoh #kola bokinni #billy harris #cristo fernández #jeremy swift #james lance #mark strong #emmy season #emmys 2023 #emmys #bants

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copperbadge · 1 year

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Things I have learned through my husbands obsession with The Sportsball: there is the skill of The Sportsing and the skill of Talking To Microphones and seldom do the twain meet!

Yeah, for many many years I've said of American (pointy-ball) football, "Please don't make them talk." Most of the players behind the mic visibly don't want to be there anyway! Especially the college kids. Man, don't make them do that.

Mind you, at least with AS Roma, it seems like most of the guys on the team are reasonably well-spoken -- tough to tell because I'm reading translation from the Italian usually, but they seem like bright guys who actually have insights to share.

All that said, this particular dude is American -- he's a soccer player but an American-born playing for an American team, and his social media is just...real weird (I haven't seen him speak on camera or anything). It seems wholesome enough but there's a splash of Inspirational Speaker there that I don't know what to do with. And then I read his post about the Two Wolves Inside You and I was like oh...he's so earnest...it's not a meme to him...

He is in fact the Chronically Outside person we talk about when we reference the opposite of being Chronically Online.

#soccer #football

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deusexlachina · 5 months

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Cheeseaged Exocolonist Age 15: Use my transcendence of time to cheat at cards

In which I befriend a furry by financially ruining him, in order to reach my full potential and ascend as an autistic god.

Year 15 starts with your home in ruins. There's no special dialogues, and only two ways to pass the first three months: help rebuild or mourn. I choose to mourn, because this is Sol's first time experiencing death (in this lifetime), and because, having maxed out Organizing, rebuilding is highly suboptimal, whereas mourning lets me avoid stress and trim my deck of useless non-blue filth.

Because I chose the sportsball, I find it when sifting through the rubble of my room and get this rather sad dialogue.

Mourning gives you many opportunities to level your Empathy. However, because I have the In Mourning status, all my stat increases are reduced by 1, rendering every single one of these +1 boosts completely worthless.

This always happens, because Kom always dies. I'm not sure if this was an attempt to really underscore how hurt Sol is, an oversight, or a straight-up troll.

After three months of developing my Empathy in nonexistent amounts, the Heliopause arrives, and Sol's home is gradually taken over by fascists who enthusiastically spread disease, worship the military and hate transgender people. I enjoy visual novels because it's a fun escape from the problems of the real world.

Fortunately, there are exactly two nice Helio kids, Nomi and Rex. Nomi is an nonbinary AuDHD techie and Rex is a furry engineer. Rex often reminds you that he is part dog, in case you had missed the ears. His dog traits include a reduced lifespan. This is not, to be clear, a setting where people just have mutations. This was a deliberate genetic augmentation. Someone purposefully made their kid part-dog. Incidentally, Nomi likes anime, so here's a panel from one of my old favourites, Fullmetal Alchemist. They've never seen that one, so really this picture wasn't relevant. Sorry.

I improve my friendship level with Rex by giving him sticks, his favourite item because he is part dog. Rex is easier than most to befriend because he enjoys physical affection, because he is part dog. I love Exocolonist, so rather than saying anything bad about the game here, I will reiterate that my favourite character is Tangent, because she's a complex person with a well-integrated character arc in dialogue with the central themes. The writers really took their time to make a fleshed-out character with deep relationships with the others and multiple character traits.

Once I have high enough friendship with Rex, he wants to play cards with me. I wait to play cards with him until after Vertumnalia, where I beat both Tangent and Nomi at the trivia game. The card you get from doing Trivia is worth 8, making it as powerful as the card you get for defeating a giant in a fight to the death. Better yet, it's blue. Why do I keep picking blue cards? You're about to see.

After Vertumnalia, I am Popular because of my detailed knowledge of pop culture trivia. I would fit right in on Vertumna, except it is currently ruled by fascists. We'll take care of that, but first we need to arm ourselves. Popularity doubles the amount of kudos you get for three months. From all sources. Now's the time to take Rex up on his offer to play cards. Rex is good at cards, but he has one critical weakness: he's playing against someone who has played this particular game countless times. I use my past-life knowledge to win the game, betting 100 kudos that I have a better card.

Sorry, make that 200. Sucker.

I now have a vast wealth of kudos, most of which I gained from cheating at cards by consulting my past lives. With this ill-gotten fortune, I buy the ultimate weapon in the game, which is surprisingly not the Drone Rifle, an actual gun. It is a "vintage focus device," a fidget spinner. Because Sol is very autistic indeed, a fidget spinner allows her to reach her full potential by letting her stim. Accessibility tools being a luxury you have to buy - in fact, the most expensive luxury in the game - paints a very bleak picture of the colony's ability to handle disability.

That would be just a joke, but Nougat's learning disability, Tangent's drug abuse and burnout, Dys' (potentially literal) alienation and Tammy's phobia of nearly everything all go pretty much neglected unless you step in. It's interesting how much Vertumna recreates the same oppressive structures that it is an attempt to flee from.

Fortunately, we can get rid of ableism through autistic world domination, to which we are one step closer.

#cheeseaged exocolonist #iwatex #excolonist spoilers

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dulcesiabits · 8 months

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at the edge of hunger.

summary: Sol gifts Nemmie some honey during the worst food shortage of their lives.

notes: 972 words, fic, she/her pronouns for Sol, set during the famine so discussions of starvation, sapphic teenage yearning, Anemone's nickname as Nemmie

Hunger haunts Nemmie like a knife wound.

It throbs under her skin, a dull ache that beats like a second heart. It clings persistently to the back of her mind, a stray thought that bobs up through the fog of her brain unbidden. The pain will chase her like a dog for the rest of her life; she will never learn to live without it.

The shriveled carrots and dried bread, rationed to her as to the rest of the colony, can only take off the edge of her hunger. She chews the tough meal slowly, trying to make each bite last. When the ache is unbearable, she drinks water until her teeth hurt, pretending it’s a spoonful of soup, a bite of a sandwich, the taste of a cupcake.

Are they going to die like this? It’s a question Nemmie can’t ask, not when Kom comes home exhausted from guard duty, his head in his hands, too tired to play sportsball with her. And

she hasn’t confided in her mom since she was little. Not that her mom would give her a straight answer, anyways, always saying she’s too young to understand, or that the adults will handle it. As if her mom doesn’t spend hours in the kitchen, trying to stretch out the next meal just a little longer.

This time, there’s no glow season monster to defeat, no threat to prepare for. Starvation, the invisible enemy, refuses to die to a plasma blaster.

So, under the hot sun, with nothing else to do, Nemmie runs. There’s nothing else she can do. Keep going, she thinks. She has to keep going. But for what? For who? To protect everyone. But how? Her powerlessness chokes her throat.

When Nemmie trips, landing face-first into the red dirt of the sportsball court, she welcomes the impact, the jolt ringing through her bones, the taste of the planet’s heat in her mouth. Her scales scrape against the ground as she flips herself over.

Nemmie has to do something. She wants to do something. If she wrangles Utopia into letting her go outside, maybe she could hunt down one of those animals for the kitchen, even if Cal will complain about it. Or she could try to scavenge for plants, even though she wasn’t as good at identifying them as Tang. But how else can she keep everyone safe? How else can she be like Kom? How–

A shadow cuts across her face, and Nemmie snaps open her eyes. It’s Sol, more dusty and scraped up than Cal’s old hoverboard. Sol squints down at Nemmie, but there’s a hollowness to her face, a tightness that Nemmie recognizes in the faces of everyone in the colony.

“Are you hungry?” Sol asks.

It’s an absurd question. Nemmie chokes out a laugh, draping a hand over her stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, what else would I be?”

Sol nods, crouches, pulls something out of her pockets. “Don’t tell your mom about this.”

Perched in Sol’s hands, dangling right over Nemmie’s head, is a container of paint. No, not paint; it’s too viscous, too translucent to be paint. It’s a pearly, iridescent color, and the liquid sways in Sol’s grasp.

“What is it?” Nemmie asks.

“Honey.”

“Honey…?”

“Squeegee honey,” Sol clarifies, and Nemmie wrinkles her nose. The name is familiar from the few biology classes her mom forced her to attend, and an image from her holopalm floats to her mind.

“Ew. Squeegees? Those ugly things?”

“It’s sweet,” Sol says, as if that explains everything. She unscrews the top of the container, tilts a corner to her lips, and drinks. A drop rolls down her chin, the hollow of her throat, and Nemmie hungrily tracks the trail as it disappears down Sol’s shirt.

Sol tilts the container towards Nemmie’s mouth, an unspoken question.

“You’re not going to share with the rest of the colony?” she croaks.

“I gave Auntie Seedant most of what I found,” Sol says.

“But then why…”

“I thought you might want some,” she says simply. “I didn’t want you to…” There’s a faraway look on Sol’s face. She gets like that sometimes, staring into a distance, lightyears away. Like she’s not really here. “I want you to be okay,” Sol finishes, but she’s not looking at Nemmie, not really.

A spark of irritation ignites in Nemmie’s gut, and she grabs the container, guzzling it down in messy gulps. It flows down her throat, sweet and thick, a liquid paradise. Her stomach protests at the sudden excess, too used to diminishing meals, but Nemmie doesn’t stop, not until the container is empty. She burps.

Sol smiles, back in Nemmie’s world, no longer too far to reach. “Was it good?”

“Really good,” Nemmie groans.

Sol reaches out her hand, hesitates, then withdraws it. “There’s still some honey around your mouth.”

Nemmie roughly scrubs the back of her mouth with her arm. Why did Sol pull away? She can’t tell if she’s more upset that Sol was going to touch her, or that Sol didn’t.

“Thanks,” Nemmie says.

“If I find more, I’ll give you some,” Sol says.

Nemmie raises one arm, punches Sol lightly on the leg. “You better.”

“I want you to live,” Sol mumbles, but it’s said so quietly Nemmie isn’t sure if it was something she was supposed to hear.

It’s the heat. It’s the hunger. It’s the way Sol acts strangely. But Nemmie grinds her teeth. “I’m not going anymore, Sol. I’m going to stay with you until you’re sick of me.”

“Promise?” Sol asks.

“Promise.”

For some reason, the idea of a future together heats up her brain, makes her heart jump. Nemmie. Nemmie, and Sol. Sol, standing over her like the sun. Despite the still-warm honey settling sluggishly in her stomach, Nemmie feels it again, watching Sol. Hunger, as sharp as a knife.

#liya writes #i was a teenage exocolonist #anemone #sol #exocolonist #anemone exocolonist #sol exocolonist #nemmie x sol #sol x nemmie #iwatex #SORRY I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO TAG THIS LOL #serving nemmie nation #my absolute beloved

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