#i’m avoiding the topic in my brain because i know the answer of what you end up thinking when you only do work and have nothing positive ha

[mae-gi-writes]

There’s something about rival athlete Wonbin! That scares you and attracts you at the same time. It’s the way is competitive streak always comes to life no matter what topic you’re engaged in.

He’s on the same track team as you are, yet always boasts about his amazing top speed in comparison to yours. He loves tormenting you with his excellent theory results, enjoys basking in the undivided attention of your classmates and professors.

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who takes the long route to class just to rile you up during your shift in the local campus coffee shop, who enjoys describing the most complicated order to make your life hell, and laughs when you mess it up with another order.

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who loves sending you airplane notes during class to tell you “looking like a dish rag today Y/N. Didn’t sleep properly?” Or “stop goggling at the newbie in front” and “you wish you saw me in your dreams ;)”, so much so that it makes you want to scream.

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who once noticed the redness under your eyes and cornered you at the end of class, only to tell you that you looked like shit. Who panics the moment your eyes fill with tears and is quick to turn soft as you cry, leaning into his shoulder unconsciously and letting you wipe your tears along his jacket.

“Don’t you dare make fun of me after that.” You threaten him, to which he rolls his eyes and knocks you on the head.

“Do I look like that kind of asshole?”

“Yeah.”

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who keeps a close eye on you from that moment onwards. Who leaves an extra bottle of milk coffee in your track room locker, who watches you from the corner of his eye during training, who orders you to walk home with him because you’re “going to be a nuisance if you hold back the team with poor performance”.

“My time has been amazing, what are you talking about?” You scoff, “if anything, you’re the one coach isn’t impressed with.”

“Yeah, coz I have to do some major babysitting aside from training.”

“What?”

He looks at you, “you mean, you haven’t noticed how extra nice I’ve been to you?”

“Not really. You’re still an asshole.”

Rival athlete! Wonbin, whose friends start teasing him because he’s developing feelings but who straight out states that he likes you, right in front of your face, causing you to blush and run for your life. You skip practice that day, not sure how to juggle all those feelings at once.

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who decides to give you some space only to find himself partnered up with you during plyometrics training and decides to ask you outright why you’re avoiding him.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“So why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

“Because!”

“Because what?”

“I don’t know how to talk… to you. After—after that.”

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who then grasps your chin and tugs your face up to his, as he says, “why?” He whispers lowly, voice dropping an octave, “do you like me, too?”

He gets his answer when you nod and sucks in a breath, not too sure how to respond. His brain freezes and goes into mini panic mode, but is quick to react when you start to squirm in his grasp.

He tugs you out of the main hall and into the corridor, quick to cage your hands and pin you against the wall as he gazes down at your face, tracing your features down to your lips.

“Wonbin,” your small intake of breath does not go unnoticed, and Wonbin leans in even closer so that your noses brush.

You let out a strangled noise, swallow hard and decide to drop your gaze to his practice jersey.

“Look at me,” he orders, nudging your nose with his.

You bite your lip and do as told, letting out a shaky breath as he closes the distance between you.

Rival athlete! Wonbin, who decides that there’s nothing sweeter he’d rather have after practice than make out with you when nobody’s looking. Who grabs your hand on the way home to stuff it in his jacket while saying that “I’m cold and your hand’s hot”. Who blushes to his ears whenever he spots you smiling at him from the corner of your eye, and who secretly would do everything and anything for you because he knows you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

#wonbin #riize x reader #riize #riize wonbin #riize imagines #riize smut #riize headcanons #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize x you #wonbin x you #wonbin fluff #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin riize #wonbin riize fluff #wonbin riize imagines #wonbin scenarios #riize drabbles #wonbin drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

[wandanatskitten]

Valentine’s Grinch

I actually don’t care for Valentine’s Day funny enough. But I think I more so don’t like traditional valentines. I don’t like most traditional American things cuz my brain is different idk. Anyway here is my double sided brains opinion on valentines put into a story I guess. Please enjoy and if you like Valentine’s Day then happy 14th to you!!! 💋🫶💋🫶💋🫶💋🫶 Minors DNI 18+

No warnings just more fluff with a sprinkle of spice with gorgeous Wanda Maximoff

2.8k words Enjoy!

February 7th

“What are you watching?”

I plopped down next to my girlfriend on the free spot of the couch. The other seats being taken by Natasha, Yelena, Steve and Peter.

“The Proposal.” Was the answer given causing me to get up and attempt to leave, but being stopped by a hand around my wrist before Wanda’s voice sounded. “Where you going?”

“I don’t know. To watch a different movie.”

“But you love this movie.” She counters.

“Not around Valentine’s Day.” I hear a voice ring out. Precisely the one of my best friend. I quickly give Yelena a cold glance that tells her to shut up.

“What does she mean? What do you mean?” She directs toward me then Yelena and me again. “You don’t like Valentine’s Day?”

“I mean it’s alright.” I shrug trying to avoid the topic.

If there’s one thing about Wanda, it’s her love for almost all holidays. Even the past few years since she’s been recruited she’d make cards and specialized goodie bags for the whole tower. She didn’t have a specific valentine so she gave the title to every Avenger. Her love for love is one of the reasons I fell for her.

And now Yelena is spoiling it by telling my girlfriend - who loves February 14th - that I despise the day.

“How do you not like Valentine’s Day?” She wonders.

“I don’t NOT like it, it’s just not my favorite.” I shrug.

“Oh please. You’re basically the Grinch of Valentine.”

“Yelena.” I grit out.

She puts her hands up in surrender but continues to push the subject. “What, I’m just saying how do you hate the day when you have a reason to celebrate.”

“Because I don’t think couples should need a reason to celebrate. If you love someone, show it, love them everyday. Valentine’s Day feels materialistic and is an excuse for high schoolers to practice their prom-posals” I explain myself.

“Hey!” Peter shouts offended.

“How did I not know this about you?” Wanda cuts in. And just as Yelena felt the need to before, she answers for me again. “Because she knows you love romantic stuff so she was hiding the part of her heart that’s three sizes too small.”

“Are you going to keep making Grinch jokes?” I rolled my eyes annoyed with her antics.

“Do you prefer Cupid ones?”

“You know what-“

“Ok! Calm down.” I’m sat in Wanda’s lap with her arms around me. Stopping me from jumping on my best friend. The laughter that sounds out was mocking enough as my glare burned with a playful hatred while I settled into the warm embrace of my girlfriend.

“Am I the only one who didn’t know you didn’t like Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah.” Everyone else who was watching between the conversation and movie sounded in at the same time. Answering Wanda’s question in a heartbeat.

I felt her arms tighten around me, but I didn���t know what was going through her head at this news.

February 10th

“I figured it out!”

Wanda came running into our room, startling me in the process. Her shouting followed by a jump onto the bed before she climbed on top of me, straddling my thighs.

“I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Why you don’t like Valentine’s Day.” She said as if it was obvious.

“I already told you why I don’t like it.”

She shakes her head. “No no, that was the surface reason. I know the real reason.”

“Please enlighten me.” I gave my full attention and put my hands on her thighs, desiring to hear what she had to say.

“You haven’t had me as your Valentine.”

I stayed silent with a raised brow urging her to continue.

“I talked to Yelena-“

“Oh god.”

“Hear me out. I talked to Yelena and she told me about your past relationships. The bears, the chocolate, the balloons. They had no thought behind them. No love. So I’ve come to the conclusion that you haven’t been loved right.” She brings her cool hands to my face and holds me gently in her palms. Leaning forward and whispering to effortlessly create a more intimate atmosphere. “But not to worry, now you have me. I’m going to show you how Valentine’s Day is suppose to be. I’m going to show you how you’re supposed to be loved.”

It was the softness of her voice that carried its way to my ears. Or the way her thumbs rubbed a sense of comfort into my cheeks. Maybe, just maybe it was the firmness of her kiss that solidified my belief in the witch herself. But if I had to choose one thing it was the sureness in her eyes before she leaned in. It wasn’t just a look of love and determination to prove me wrong. It was a slight smirk that was barely noticeable that said she knew she had me even if I tried to resist.

And she wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know it yet as I kissed her with a desperate need to feel her closer. Pulling her from my thighs to my hips, hugging her small frame with the same intensity she held me around my neck.

It didn’t matter how long I could go without oxygen because once her lips meld with mine it was clear the only thing that was even keeping me breathing before this point was Wanda’s desire to want me how I wanted her.

February 14th

9:30am

An alarm sounded in the room causing me to stir. I wasn’t prepared to get up so I had no clue why a brutal sound would break my prefect sleep. The sheets moved to let in a cold draft which caused me to cuddle into myself more, knowing Wanda got out of bed.

I checked the time to see that it’s later than we usually get out of bed but still choosing to stay. Before closing my eyes, I heard the shower turn on. Soon followed by the feel of the bed dipping as a warm body leans over and cuddles further into me from behind. The calming presence of my girlfriend sure to lull me back to sleep.

That is, till I feel her lips press to my shoulder. Then another and another and another. She moves from behind me and pushes me to shift onto my back. Continuing whatever desire she has to kiss anywhere from my neck to my chest. Her finger drawing slow mindless shapes along my sides. The sensation waking me up enough to lazily wrap my arms around her shoulders.

“Are you going to open those pretty eyes for me?” Her soft voice and the warmth of her breath against my neck slowly bringing my senses alive.

Feeling her remove herself from the crook of my neck I do as she requests and meet the tenderness of her emeralds glowing in the bit of light that peeks through the curtains. A smile immediately finds its way to my face at the look of her messy locks. Somehow they compliment her features as the brunette hair falls to one side of her shoulders. The more of her morning features I notice the more I feel the need to tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her closer for a loving kiss.

9:57am

The air was thick, perhaps from the steam of the shower. The heat of the water coating the glass into a translucent state.

From the outside the pattering of the water is sounded through the room hitting two bodies. The sight of condensation falling down the glass at the bottom of a fading hand print. The feeling of humidity, threatening the summer heat itself.

But just beyond the veil of a this morning shower was yours and Wanda’s form of innocence. The sounds of soft shuttering breaths and whispered I love you’s. The sight of lips painting a memory, telling foreign bodies that yours belongs to someone. The feeling of hands committing to hold each other close. Remembering every inch of skin.

Fingers never dipped lower than they needed to but it didn’t feel teasing. There was no rush for more, no rush to move on, no rush to leave each other’s embrace. It built a tension of wanting more but it was innocenct, it was loving, it was sensual, and that’s all you two wanted it to be right now.

11:17am

The music blast through the kitchen tower as you and Wanda obnoxiously sang the lyrics to your favorite song.

The sight of her hips swaying while she scrambled eggs on the stove catching your eye. A smirk played on your lips when you go to hold her so you can sway together. Her body leaning into you as she cut off the fire and plated the last of the food you made together.

Eating in silence with the only sounds coming from the lowered music, and silverware clanking against plates. Although no words were spoken constant glances were shared and even the cliché of feeding the other. Your smile impossible to hide while Wanda watches your lips gracefully take a bite of her food.

6:35pm

The day consisted of laughter from constant jokes and nostalgic memories of years gone by with the team.

We dressed in “disguise” as we walked around the park hand and hand. Sometimes taking moments on a bench or under a tree to people watch and dream about our future together. It was peaceful as the sun shied away from the day.

“Cmon.” Wanda pulls me up to my feet, pulling me along through the day once again. Guiding me to the truck we’ve been using for the day.

“Where to this time my love.” I opened the driver door for her.

“Get in and find out.” She quickly gave me a kiss before opening the passenger door from the inside.

Dates like these weren’t rare. I was proud to sport a healthy relationship with Wanda. Over the course of 8 months I’ve learned a lot about her love language.

Acts of service. Quality time. Words of affirmation. She didn’t shy from any of them really.

But of course physical touch was never one to fade. I couldn’t help my mind wandering as her hand rests itself upon my thigh taking a comforting yet strong hold on the muscle as she drove up a hill.

After parking she got out and opened the door for me, her hand never leaving mine. When walking to the back I see a quick flash of red causing the cover on the bed of the truck to disappear. There hidden all day were too many blankets to count and pillows to support the feel of a bed.

“Wanda.” The only thing I could say after being speechless.

“Wait this isn’t the whole surprise.”

She lifts me onto the back and floats in next to me. We get comfortable in each others embrace. Her arms wrapped around me while I lay on her chest looking at the darkening sky. Her magic flashes again and covers the entire truck in a dome-like structure.

A soundtrack began to play till I heard my own voice before seeing a video of me projected above us. Soon Wanda appeared.

“Is this…the first time we met?” I asked stunned.

“It is.”

As the video continued more and more memories projected in the sky. From the times we’d stay up and talk till the sun rose. To her teaching me how to cook. To the times where her tears soaked my shirt while my arms held her closer than I’ve held anyone before. To our first kiss. And ending on our first argument which happened to also be the first time we confessed our feelings.

“What are you so afraid of Y/n!” Wanda’s voice strained as you threatened to leave the room.

“Time!” You rushed back in front of her. “I’m afraid there isn’t enough time to love you the way you deserve. I’m afraid there’s not enough time to learn your heart, your mind, your body, your soul. Everything that makes me fall in love with you more and more by the second.” The words were heavy in the air.

After trying to distance yourself from Wanda for weeks. Scared to lose more people you loved. That certain time as an Avenger was hard for you. Dealing with the blame of innocents dying and shaming yourself for not being able to save names you hold close to heart.

“You love me?”

“I’m afraid I can’t stop loving you, Wanda.” I cup her face in my hands gently.

“Then don’t.” A single tear falls down her face. “I love you too.” It was an intimate whisper but the sound shattered my heart and rebuilt it in her image.

The knot in my throat tightened as tears fell to the side. I propped myself up on my elbow to look down at her, seeing she was already admiring me.

“How did you did that?” My voice cracked with the question.

“Not how detka, why?” Before I could ask she answered, paired with the swipe of her thumb to clear my tears. “Because I wanted to show you how easy it is for me to love you. How you’re my strength and my weakness. And having you reciprocate the love I feel is the best gift and every reason to celebrate being with you.”

I could try to express how I feel in words but it wouldn’t be enough. So I stay quiet and kiss her with all the passion I have. I kiss her with all the love I hold. I kiss her with all the fear that has faded since then, with all the hopelessness of opening my eyes and reality being anything other than experiencing Wanda.

11:52pm

Her lips never left mine and when I couldn’t kiss her back she’d immediately whisper sweet nothings into my ear.

“I love you.”

“You were made for me.”

“I’m right here, detka, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re so perfect.”

Her words only increased my need for her. Her be surrounded by everything that was Wanda. Her scent, her feel, just her. And she provided that with slow strokes of the length between her legs. My own legs wrapping around her hips holding her close. Her rhythm never faulted. Just like our shower there was no rush. Feeling every inch of her that sunk me further into divinity.

My hands clawing her back. Shuttering moans that paired with quick gasps. My hips meeting hers in the deep and slow grind she set herself in. Our heads pressed together while our breaths mixed. One hand holding mine and the other caressing me causing a mixture of fire and ice to cleanse my skin. Not knowing if it’s too much or not enough.

But it becomes clear that what she gives me is everything I need. In this moment and all the ones before. She’s everything I need and she knows that. Every time her hips meet mine an uncontrollable shake quakes its way from my spine to my legs. Her silky rasp guiding me to the edge.

“Right there, baby? Yeah?”

“Don’t force it, cum when you’re ready.”

“Look at me. Stay with me.”

“Just like that, breathe for me.”

“You’re doing so good for me.”

Safely. In her arms the top of the cliff leaves from under me. I couldn’t tell if I was falling or flying. I only knew I didn’t want to let go of her. The suddenness having my breath caught in my lungs and my body to stiffen. The divinity I was feeling before now a bubble of bliss and perfection.

Somewhere in the high I finally came down. Feeling a protective hold with my eyes closed. And when she brought me back to Earth I was able to open them only to drown in a love as deep as hers.

It took a moment to regain any thought but when I did I understood one thing.

She didn’t ask. She didn’t ask for me to be her valentine. Because it made sense she didn’t have to. I’m already hers.

She didn’t buy me anything. Because that wasn’t what would prove her love. It was in the way she held me at the end of the night.

Valentine’s Day wasn’t about having an excuse to show someone you care. It was about seizing the opportunity to remind that special someone you love them. To not only love them in the way you know how but to show that you know how to love them in the way that they need.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

#wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #valentines day

[nburkhardt]

Part one Part two

Whispered reassures and promises. Promises of lists and songs on post-it notes. Laughter and praise between it all, it can make someone’s head spin.

It’s definitely making Steve’s head spin.

A quick brush of lips against his temple, so quick he thinks he imagined it. A gentle squeeze of their clasped hands, then both are gone and he opens his eyes to find Eddie now standing smiling down at him with a hand open in front of him.

“Come on, Stevie, let’s continue this on a couch and get something to drink.” Eddie wiggles his hand impatiently, “the floor hurts, Sunshine.”

His brain freezes for a split second before the first smile, a near blinding one spreads on his face. He won’t question the new nickname, maybe someday but not today and maybe he’ll ask Eddie to call him that everyday. For now he watches as Eddie’s smile gets brighter and wiggles his hand again before clasping it with his.

An hour later and they’re sitting on his couch, Eddie’s on one side and he’s on the other; they’re facing each other with their legs a tangled mess. Eddie had insisted, saying it was to ground him. He’ll be honest, he doesn’t quite understand that but it does feel nice. The only other person who insists on physical contact is Robin, but she limits it to a hug or just high-fives. If it was up to Steve, they’d be hugging, holding hands or wrapping ankles together none stop.

Okay, so he might be a little touch-starved now that he’s thinking about it.

It seems though, Eddie doesn’t mind touch. He’s actually the one asking for it first, can’t figure out if it’s because of his breakdown earlier or because that’s just something Eddie does sometimes.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Breaks through his thoughts and he shakes his head to focus on the man across from him, Eddie’s rolling his water bottle between his hands. There’s a curious look on his face, “you’ve been quiet.”

He shrugs a little before leaning back further, “Just, thinking.”

Eddie hums with a nod, dropping his water bottle in his lap and bringing a knee up to rest his head on it, “What about? Pizza won’t be here for another thirty minutes”

He opens his mouth with a lie, a simple ‘nothing, don’t worry about it’ because it’s a lot, today has been a lot to handle. Voicing out loud that he might be touch-starved would be another heavy topic. Despite sharing his deepest secret, his biggest insecurity. Sharing another one? It would be too much for one day.

“Just, that you’re a great person” it’s not a lie, that’ll never be a lie. Eddie is a great person, one of the best that Steve knows. It’s just not what he was really thinking though, Eddie will figure it out when he gets the courage to speak about more insecurities later. “How, um, did you know what to do back there?”

Eddie looks confused for only a second before answering, “pulling you out of the breakdown? Well, I have anxiety attacks sometimes, my uncle still gets panic attacks from time to time. He taught me how to handle them, told me the rights and wrongs on what to do.”

Nodding, he then looks away to stare down at his lap, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. He feels like an open book right now, feels like Eddie is staring into his everything and he feels comfort in that really he does but he's also so terrified of that feeling.

It’s…nice, having someone like this. He knows that his friendship with Robin is similar to that but this? This is different and he doesn’t want it to be like his friendship with Robin.

The doorbell rings and before he can get up, Eddie’s already standing and shakes a finger in his direction, “nah-uh, I’m paying. You stay here, drink the water and relax, okay?”

“Okay”

He doesn’t bother watching Eddie walk to the door, instead he lowers himself on the couch and thinks.

Is this going to last? How true are Eddie’s words? Will he really stay by his side and will he really write positive post-it notes for him? Write a song for him?

He feels like he’s back in Eddie’s hospital room, with questions but his mouth refuses to open. He doesn’t know if he wants the answers, this time either.

For now, he’ll let those questions stay in his head while he enjoys Eddie’s company and some pizza. And hope that tomorrow is better, either with Eddie by his side or without.

~~

He called out of work. He doesn’t do that, it’ll hurt losing that money but he can’t face Robin right now. Doesn’t necessarily want to face anyone right now actually, there’s a chance the kids or even Eddie’s band mates will show up. He can’t handle that, still feeling raw from Eddie even seeing him the way he did.

Currently he’s wrapped up in his blankets on his bed overthinking, again.

Yesterday replaying in his head, Eddie’s words acting as a melody from a song. Sometimes in order, sometimes just one sentence or even one word repeating over and over. If he wasn’t laying in bed, he’d be dizzy and distracted from it.

“one day you’ll believe me”

“I promise you”

“You are not an asshole”

“You’re a good person, Stevie”

“You have me”

He’s tired of tears, but it seems he has an unlimited amount in his eyes. He can’t help but think over all of those words, or just think of Eddie. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel the kiss on his forehead or how their legs were pressed together. It was so weirdly intimate, like he could float away and be present but also not. The idea of being able to not be here seems freeing and that's a scary thought.

All those moments helped him sleep for only a few hours, all the warmth faded before the sun came out and Steve was jolted awake by it. He’s been awake since, the words and memories aren’t enough for him to go back to sleep.

~~~~

Steve's head is all over the place much like my own. Sorry we didn't get more comfort, Steve has a lot of thoughts okay?? He’s an over-thinker. Don't worry more parts are coming :)

Also sorry it’s a lot shorter than the other two and if it’s too non-linear, it made sense in my head ending it where I did 😅

taglist: @zerokrox-blog @piningapple @i-wanna-combust @stevecarrington @henderdads @fiore-della-valle @eddiemunsonswife @mixsethaddams @momotonescreaming @ajamlessbaby @novelnovella @flustratedcas @thelastwalkingsoul

@hellfire1986baby @manda-panda-monium @xo-blairej @freyaforestafay @princessstevemunson @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @sapphirecobalt-1 @stevesworldxx @jonathanbyersbbg @fromapayphone @anzelsilver @adaed5 @koyislosinghismind

Part four

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington fic #stranger things #angst #steve harrington #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #desperate prayers of a cursed man fic #his thoughts really did get away from me #i meant to add in more eddie but steve is an OVERTHINKER #we'll get eddie being a clingy bastard next time and an overprotective one at that #nburkhardt writes

[munson-blurbs]

hello darling! i love your work. could i request something along the lines of eddie being with someone with social anxiety? she isn't shy, per se; loud and confident around him but clams up completely when new people are involved. honestly if eddie were my bf he'd be my only friend 🥲 i was wondering how you see the two of them would be able to deal with that <3

Warnings: reader has social anxiety. This takes place after high school for the older characters, probably sophomore year for the younger ones. Will + El live in Hawkins again.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: I also struggle with social anxiety. I tried to capture the various emotions that come with it--for those unfamiliar with social anxiety, you basically want to make friends but are also anxious in certain social situations. Anon, I hope this fic lives up to your expectations and you feel represented <3

--

The seven words every person with social anxiety dreads:

"I want you to meet my friends," Eddie tells you while you're cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie. You've been dating for a month, and things have been going really well. Which is probably why he wants to introduce you to people.

"Oh," you say softly, gnawing on the inside of your lower lip.

You'd been working at the record store when you'd spotted Eddie, but it had been months later that you actually worked up the nerve to talk to him. And that was only because your co-worker shoved you in his direction, tired of hearing you drone on about how cute he was. 

"Something wrong?” he asks, sitting up slightly. 

“N-no,” you stutter, your own voice betraying you. “Just...are you sure it’s not too soon?”

Eddie adjusts your position. “Sweetheart, they already think I’m making you up,” he teases gently. His sweet expression turns into a frown. “Do you not want to meet them?”

“It’s not that,” you reassure him, “I just get really anxious around people I don’t know.”

“What’s that expression? Somethin’ like, ‘strangers are friends you haven’t met yet’?” He tries to make light of the situation but quickly realizes that you’re stuck in your own head.

“Eddie,” you sigh, “do you know that I avoided you for months before Lizzie practically forced me to introduce myself?” You look down at your hands and pick at your fingernails nervously. “And trust me, I wanted to talk to you. It’s just that...every time I thought about it, I considered every possible way it could go wrong.”

Your boyfriend furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Like, worrying that you would make fun of me, or think I’m stupid or ugly or not worth your time, or straight up ignore me,” you confess, cringing at how vulnerable you sound.

“Why would I do that?” he questions, genuinely confused.

You think carefully before answering, not wanting to overwhelm him. “That’s how I’ve been treated in the past. Not all the time,” you add hastily, “but enough that my brain thinks that everyone will act the same way.”

“Oh,” Eddie replies, starting to understand. “So, is there any way you can meet my friends?”

“Yeah, of course,” you tell him, “but maybe it could be a casual hang-out kind of thing? Not a whole ‘Meet the Girlfriend’ extravaganza.”

He nods. “I can totally do that,” he says cheerfully. “Actually, we’re all hanging out at Steve Harrington’s house tomorrow, just to catch up and shoot the shit. Would that--is that too soon?”

You give him a sweet smile, trying to ignore the butterflies battering around in your stomach. “I think that works.”

~

On the car ride to Steve’s, Eddie gives you a rundown of all of his friends: likes, dislikes, topics to bring up and avoid. You learned that the younger kids love D&D and can talk about it for hours. You also found out that Steve doesn’t get along with his parents, so you won’t bring them up.

What you didn’t know was that Eddie had spent the better part of the day debriefing his friends about you.

“She loves music, knows the lyrics to every song on the radio, but don’t even think about asking her to sing for you.”

“She has tons of funny stories about insane customers she gets at the record store.”

“Doing well in school is really important to her, and she’s sensitive when it comes to her grades.” 

He was so serious about the whole endeavor that he considered making the group write everything down.

Your stomach flip-flops as Eddie parks the van in front of Steve’s house. “You ready?” he asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply. You got this, you think, Eddie wouldn’t introduce you to people who will be mean to you.

Eddie holds your hand and knocks on the door. You smile up at him; though you’re nervous, you’re also excited. That’s the weird part of social anxiety: you hate meeting new people, but you still crave approval and friendship. You keep reminding yourself that being outside of your comfort zone, even feeling a little scared, doesn’t necessarily mean that bad things will happen.

The door swings open, revealing Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. “Hi guys!” he says. “Come on in. It’s great to meet you, Y/N.”

“You, too,” you say, “Eddie’s told me a lot about you. Mostly good things,” you add, hoping the joke lands.

“Mostly? That’s more than I anticipated, so I’ll take it,” Steve volleys the joke back, and you feel your body relax.

“Are the rug rats here yet?” Eddie asks, presumably asking about the younger members of the group.

Steve nods. “Already fighting over movie choices,” he says with a laugh.

Eddie starts towards the living room, fingers still intertwined with yours, but Robin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“If these dinguses start getting too annoying, there’s a room upstairs where me, you, and Nancy can just chill,” she whispers. “Max and El might join, too. Girl time.”

“That sounds awesome,” you tell her truthfully. “And it’s very likely that they’ll get on our nerves at some point.”

“Oh, for sure,” Robin rolls her eyes, “I’m already sick of King Steve.”

“Stop calling me that!” Steve whines, but he’s smiling as he says it.

~

After a night of movies, pizza, and a hilarious gossip session with the girls, you’re exhausted. It’s a good feeling; you definitely need time to yourself, just to recharge, but you had so much fun. You’re grinning from ear to ear as you plop down into the passenger seat.

“Your friends are the best!” you tell Eddie. “I can’t wait to hang out with them again.”

Eddie’s beaming. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he says, pulling your face towards his for a sloppy, silly kiss.

You nod. “I’m just glad I finally have people to talk shit about you with,” you tease him, and he gasps, feigning shock.

“You would never!”

“Oh, but we already did,” you giggle. “I found out that you used to jump up on cafeteria tables in high school and give impromptu speeches.”

Eddie pouts dramatically. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

You lean back in your seat and listen to the Dio cassette Eddie’s playing. After a few moments of silence, you turn your head to look at him. “Hey, Eds?”

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Thank you,” you say, barely loud enough to hear over the music, “for introducing me to everyone. And for being so patient with me.”

Eddie takes his right hand and places it over your right leg. “I got you. And you got me, yeah?”

“Always.”

--

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #requests

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Can you make a trans man/trans masc civilian who got hate for being trans coming home to their partner, a protective villain, who tries to comfort and reassure him in his identity?

Sorry if this is a no go for the topic, I just think it might be comforting

The door slammed into its frame, making the house seemingly shake and thunder. Immediately, the villain was fully aware that something was wrong. They got up from the couch and set the cup of tea down, lurking around the corner.

“You good, babe?” they asked, studying their lover.

Their boyfriend looked up, eyes red.

“Sure,” he answered. The villain already considered the possibility of gruesome murder. Whoever had done this, they’d pay for it. They couldn’t stand it when he was upset.

He was much too pretty for that, much too sweet to be anything less than happy.

The civilian opened the fridge and rummaged for something edible. Although the villain hadn’t touched the leftovers of his favourite food, he didn’t seem much interested. Slowly he got frustrated, couldn’t concentrate and closed the door again.

Instead he filled a cup of water and downed it, panting heavily as he put it back in the sink.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring into the ground, close to crying.

“You wanna tell me about your day?” The villain took a step forward, reaching for his hand but he only pulled back.

“Not really.”

“Alright,” the villain said. This was bad. And the villain was getting pissed. Not at the civilian — they could never be angry at him — but at that certain someone who had ruined his day. “I’m in the living room if you need me. I love you.”

They didn’t add that they would try everything to develop a whole war plan to get to the bottom of this.

“My uncle misgendered me again,” he said quietly. He avoided the villain’s gaze. “Years on T, surgeries all done and he misgenders me.”

“Oh, baby…” The villain took a step forward and hugged him tightly. Even though they knew they had to be gentle and loving, their brain gathered information on that uncle, filtering work, domicile, hobbies, personal connections…the patterns in their brain couldn’t help but design a character sheet of him, listing all his weaknesses and options to make him disappear.

Of course, their boyfriend would never agree. But the villain was very bad at killing old habits. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s just…fuck, I thought I was done with this. I thought I could leave this behind.”

“I know, baby.” The villain looked up at him and pressed a kiss to his nose. “You know he does this on purpose, right? He tries to get under your skin because he’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but…” The civilian took in a deep breath. To keep the tears at bay, the villain realised.

“Babes. You’re a guy. You’ve always been a guy. You always will be a guy,” the villain said. They were getting really upset. He had been alright these past few months, he had been doing so well and one family reunion made him insecure again.

What the villain would’ve given to pay that uncle a visit.

“He told me I’ll always be a biological girl.”

“He doesn’t know how biology works,” the villain said. “He doesn’t know how gender works. It is much too complex for his tiny brain to grasp. Some people don’t have the mental capacity nor the empathy for that.”

The villain gave him another kiss and then, let go of him.

“He’s jealous of you. I mean, look at you. Handsome boy. Don’t let him get to you.” He couldn’t help but blush a little.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s just annoying I guess.”

“Some people will never understand. Ask him about his failing marriage the next time you see him. That should be enough to shut him up. Messing up hard enough for your wife to sleep with your best friend? Ouch.”

The civilian grinned, studying his partner.

“I’ve never told you about that.”

Oops.

#that is NEVER a no go topic! #civilianxvillain snippet #civilianxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #villain x civilian #villainxcivilian #civilianxvillain #civilian x villain #an answer for an ask #request #happy slay month

[thatgirlshit]

HOW TO GET GOOD GRADES - a realistic guide!!

okay so you’re here because you wanna get good grades!! welcome, grab a notebook if you want and just read bcs im about to start shitting information :)

👏 PAY ATTENTION IN CLASS 👏 participate!! if anyone understands the struggle for this, it’s the girl with crippling ADHD but trust me, shit gets so much easier to understand when you actually listen to the teacher’s yapping, no matter how hard it is.

go to school actually ready to learn!! like for me, i grab a coffee at this coffee shop near my school, i read a book before class to warm up my brain and i make a whole ritual out of going to school, that slowly it made me enjoy it more. now i show up to school well rested, nourished and ready to learn.

take notes YOU like. i’m not telling you to go buy $200 acrylic paint markers just to make your title pretty, i’m telling you that no matter what color your pen is, how little or much you write, take notes YOU understand and i guarantee shit will get so much easier for you. (and for the love of god use a pencil for maths!!!)

study the way you want. study in a cafe, library, or your own room for all i care, just do it in a way you love! the more you like it the more you’ll want to do it. you can start by learning about something that interests you if you’d like, and then slowly move onto the topics you have to learn. be sure to take breaks and turn your phone off when you’re doing it!

manage your time efficiently. i don’t wanna be the one to tell you this but babe, priotise your shit. don’t choose to work on a bullshit extra credit project over an assignment that gives you a final grade. do your harder shit first and then move on to the easy stuff.

hang out with people that motivate you. this is more of a tip for life in general but it can apply to academics. if you hang out with 4 idiots, you’ll become the fifth. hang out with people who motivate you to grow and learn as a person.

discover a study method that works for you!! if colour coding works, do it! if blurting works, do it! don’t let anybody force their method on you if yours works best for you!! you know you better than anyone, try some stuff out and figure out what works best for you.

extra tips!!

check your answers after every test!

don’t ever dumb yourself down <3

take lots of breaks to avoid burnout!!

do your homework!

ask for help!!!!

here’s a little reminder that grades aren’t everything, i know how it feels atm but still just fall in love with your life and all of the rest will follow after <3

#hot girl tips #it girl #glowup #self care #glow up #self love #good grades #how to get good grades #older sister advice #older sister tips #girl tips #school tips #good grades tips

[miniongrin]

Statute of Limitations (Immortals AU)

Wrote 800 words for an AU that’s been rotating in my brain for over a year that I still haven’t written, but I’m posting this anyway because I do what I want.

AU context, sparknotes edition: Ingo couldn’t get sent back directly to the future for timey-wimey reasons and spent 140 years immortal, chilling in the Coronet Highlands. Accidentally befriended/tamed/domesticated the feral cat of a man we know as Volo (also immortal) while he was waiting to catch up to the future and his twin. Now the Nimbasa trio has been reunited for over a year and Volo is the twins’ weird roommate and Elesa’s bitchiest bestie.

~

“Hang on,” Elesa says one night, as they’re sitting around the twins’ living room eating Sinnoh takeout, two and a half hours and two-thirds of the way into an hour-long documentary on Hisui. They keep pausing to give Ingo and Volo the chance to expound on whatever topic the documentary didn’t have the time or information to elaborate on themselves; Ingo’s infodumping is familiar and comforting, while Volo’s is a bit of a surprise but hilariously bitchy. Even when the documentary gets things right. “Volo—you consulted on this? Historically?”

“That makes it sound like I did so fifty years ago,” Volo sniffs. “I was a historical consultant on the topic. Mostly by mail; by the time they were making this, Cynthia was a little too popular for me to go wandering around Sinnoh without a good excuse for looking like her fraternal twin.”

So, yes, but in fifty words instead of one. Cool. “You like… you got paid money for this? Is this your job?”

Volo makes an dismissive sound. “Yes, I got paid for it, but it’s not exactly reliable work, nor does it pay greatly. As a historian, the best money is in research grants, but those are a little hard to get a hold of without extensive history at a university, and my need to shuffle identities every decade or so did clash with the need to accumulate that sort of history.”

“…So, yes but no?”

Volo rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, but no.”

Elesa mulls over that. She doesn’t unpause the documentary just yet, because there’s a niggling question in her brain now—

“Do you have a job?” Emmet asks before she can. “You’re here a lot.”

Volo huffs, deciding to take offense in that catty way of his, so Elesa jumps in before letting him answer: “Dude, you’re clearly loaded, I have never once heard you say a thing about hopping back and forth between here and Sinnoh and plane tickets aren’t cheap. Frankly, neither is this apartment, and I’d be surprised if you’re just letting the twins pay for it all.”

Volo regards her shrewdly for a moment, then hums as his eyes slide away. “Don’t worry about it.”

That is the least satisfying answer on the planet. She and Emmet immediately turn to Ingo for answers.

“I do not worry about it,” Ingo says immediately.

Elesa and Emmet’s eyes meet. Weird, suspicious emphasis with no real answer. Hmmm.

“I am Emmet. Are we harboring a fucking criminal?” Emmet demands.

Volo sputters. “I beg your pardon? That’s your first assumption?”

“That’s not an answer,” Elesa points out, entertained. “He’s only going to get more suspicious the more you avoid giving one.”

“And you, of course, are virtuously on my side,” Volo mutters bitchily. “The disrespect! And here I thought we had something. A camaraderie, if you will—”

“It’s not like you’re a poacher, Ingo would worry about it a whole lot if that were the case,” Elesa interrupts him. “I can’t really imagine you beating someone up—”

“I can,” Emmet says.

“—without going full-on crazy eyes,” Elesa corrects herself. “So this hypothetical crime you may have committed and have definitely not denied committing is probably, y’know. Petty. Which fits, because you are a petty, petty bitch!”

“I,” Volo says with dignity, “am the classiest bitch any of you will ever meet.”

“I am the classiest bitch in this room, but nice try.”

“You’re all cutting-edge fashion and avant-garde, that’s not the same thing as class.”

Elesa gasps loudly in overblown offense. “You take that back!”

“Ladies, you are both pretty,” Emmet intones. “Ingo. Has Volo committed crimes? Yes or no.”

Ingo pinches the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t have a valid birth certificate and yet has had a functional passport for decades despite being stuck at twenty-seven. Of course he’s committed crimes, we knew that already.”

“I am Emmet. I meant for money.”

Ingo shrugs and reaches for a new can of soda. “Well, that’s none of my business.”

“Ingo.”

“Look,” Volo sighs, “can any of you truthfully tell me that you’ve never talked to a particularly out-of-touch gentleman whose lone battling Pokémon is holding a useless nugget of gold worth more than everything you have on your person and thought, you know, I bet I have an island somewhere that I could sell this moron?”

There’s a beat of silence. Emmet snorts. Ingo puts a hand over his face that doesn’t hide the amused curl to the corner of his mouth.

Elesa cackles. “Oh dragons, you scam rich people for a living? I need to hear about this right now immediately. Story time! Funniest scam you’ve done, let’s go.”

“Accusing me of being a scam artist now?” Volo snips facetiously, but he’s smirking. “I will confess to nothing. …At least, not until I have the chance to check the statute of limitations for a few things.”

#immortals au #submas #i don't know if i should be tagging this snippet as submas but the au as a whole definitely fits the tag sooooo? #no one can stop me #anyway volo is actually in the credits of the documentary that they're watching #but only under his Eccentric Historian alias for obvious reasons #also volo DOES do a lot of historian stuff in his free time (verifying artifacts and translations mostly) but it's more of a passion hobby #his tastes are too expensive to actually live on that sort of money #despite being born in 1848 and 100% being able to rough it with the best of them volo just exudes city slicker vibes to me #also sometimes the vocational paths cross #mostly when volo gets peeved at some specific person with a private historical collection he's being paid to verify something in #and he decides that for the good of the historical record he has to liberate a few things. preferably the rarest/priciest things

[mazegays]

could've followed my fears all the way down

Chapter 12

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

He’s kept away from the medical cabin—everyone is, except for Frypan and a few other cooks, who bring them food—until Anya says they’re awake.

Thomas hasn’t slept well in a week, at least. He keeps thinking about what he could have done to stop this from happening.

“Gally has two breaks in his femur and a moderate concussion. Minho’s got a cracked rib and a moderate concussion. They’ve both got deep bruising along their spines where the tree landed, but so far no nerve damage is showing.” Anya tells him, looking exhausted herself. “They’ll be fine with time and rest. You can see them, but not for too long.”

They’re hardly awake, but that’s okay. Just seeing them makes it easier to believe that they’ll be okay. 

He still thinks that he should have been able to do something.

Sonya comes to kick him out on Harriet’s behalf.

“Go and sleep. You can come back and maybe actually talk to them in the morning.”

It’s still not the same as sleeping with someone in the same room, in the same bed. Thomas didn’t realize how much he was depending on that to sleep until it was gone; until he didn’t even have the option of sharing with someone.

They’ll be better soon.

finish on ao3 or continue reading

For the next week, Thomas spends his mornings with Gally and Minho.

“Thomas, you didn’t get hurt, did you?” Minho sits up when he sees him, wincing.

“No, I’m fine.” A few cuts and bruises from branches, but nothing like what they had. “Lay back down, Minho, you’re not supposed to be moving much.”

“It’s weird being the one in the bed.” Gally mutters, maybe thinking Thomas wouldn’t hear him.

“What else are you doing today, Thomas?” Minho ignores him.

Thomas doesn’t have a good answer for that. He knows he won’t be allowed to stay here all day, but he hasn’t thought about what he’s going to do when he’s not here.

“No, you don’t need to sit with us all day. We’re probably going to sleep most of it anyway. Go work in the greenhouse, or with Frypan.”

“I will, I will.” Thomas says. “Anya will kick me out at some point anyway. But I’m visiting for as long as you’ll let me every morning.”

“Sounds good.” Thomas wants to mention what they said, but Gally’s halfway to sleeping again.

He also doesn’t know what to say. He’s been turning it over in his head for days, but it’s not something he’s thought about. Sure, Minho had said he loved him in Denver, but Thomas has never been sure how sincere that was.

Surviving had seemed more important than thinking about the butterflies it gave him, anyway.

Thomas tells them about the trees they’re planting, that Jorge’s group came back with the generator, and Frypan’s new… experiments in the kitchen.

He avoids the topic of the forest altogether because now that he has the chance to say something, he doesn’t know what to tell them. 

Sonya and Harriet make this look so easy. If he thought it’d do him any good, he’d go ask them how they do it.

(He thinks they know anyway; they’re constantly dropping ‘subtle’ hints and trying to help him.)

Gally and Minho don’t bring it up either, so he doesn’t know what they think about it.

He’ll wait. He’ll wait, until they bring it up again, say it again, or until he figures out what’s going on in his brain with this.

As soon as he’s cleared, Minho insists on running with Thomas. Gally’s still got a week before he’s going to be allowed out, with his leg broken, so they go before he wakes up in the mornings.

They still haven’t talked, but Thomas thinks it can wait until one of them isn’t falling asleep mid-conversation. 

He’s just glad they’re both going to be okay. He and Minho have rarely been separated for more than a few days before, and Gally’s bed still feels too big without him there.

After a few days, Minho drags him to the woods to run.

“Think about it, Thomas. The Maze was stone, we’ve been sticking to the safe ground here. It’ll be fun to run somewhere different.”

Minho tries to play it off as excitement, but he’s been avoiding the woods at all costs.

Thomas doesn’t blame him.

“Let’s go.”

They’ve both walked the woods plenty of times, but there are still roots and rocks to trip them up as they run.

They come back bruised and exhausted that first morning. When Gally sees them, he doesn’t let them near him until they’ve cleaned up.

“It’s not that bad, Gally.” Thomas says. And if sometimes he presses against the bruises to make them last longer, well, no one needs to know that.

One day, Thomas manages to trip in just the right spot to cut his cheek open and bruise his eye. 

Minho laughs at him the whole way back.

“Seriously, Thomas, how do you keep getting the worst ones?” He leans into Minho’s side as they walk back— he doesn’t really need to, but it’s nice.

Sonya rolls her eyes at them when she sees them. “You two, I swear. Worse than Harriet and I were.”

“We weren’t that bad, babe.”

“We really were. We used to partner up to run and then make out instead. We didn’t fool anyone.”

Anya rolls her eyes when she sees them.

“Why do you keep running in places you get hurt?”

“Well, it’s mostly Thomas getting hurt.” Minho jokes, nudging Thomas lightly.

“And your ribs have been perfectly fine with all this running?”

“Yeah, mostly. A few twinges here and there, but we’re not going full-speed and Thomas is good at knowing when to slow us down.”

He is?

He’s been paying attention to when Minho winces, but he hadn’t realized he’d been changing pace because of it.

“Go rest. No more than a slow jog for you for the rest of the week.” Anya herds Minho into the medical cabin. “And Thomas, you’ll be fine. Maybe watch your own step a little more, though.” Thomas nods.

“I’m going to see if Frypan needs anything. I’ll come back with lunch?”

“Wonderful idea.” She smiles. “Don’t come back before then, though, or I will put you in one of these beds.”

On his way to the kitchen, Rosa pulls him aside.

“Thomas, come on.” She presses a bag of ice into his hand.

As far as he knows the only ice they have is in the medical cabin for injuries.

He hadn’t seen her at all as he and Minho had come in, how’d she know his face is bruised?

“Lucky guess.” She brings him to an out-of-the-way corner. “Thomas, you know you don’t have to run with Minho, right?”

“I know.” What is this about? “I like to.”

“You keep getting hurt!”

“I’ve gotten hurt before and you don’t react like this.” He knows he’s squinting when his eye starts throbbing in time with his heart. “What’s this about, Rosa?”

“Just, Thomas, if you need help with anything, you can tell me.”

“Rosa, are you trying to hide Thomas away?” Frankie laughs. “I thought this was our spot!”

“It is, but Frankie, look at him.” Rosa gestures, and he looks down at himself, confused. What does Rosa think is going on?

His sleeve has fallen down as he’s been holding the ice to his eye. Some of the scratches on his arm from the trees, and the cuts from… earlier… are visible, others covered with a yellowing bruise.

“Thanks for the ice, Rosa. I told Minho and Gally I’d bring them lunch, I’m going to help Frypan now.”

“Thomas, you can tell us if something’s wrong.” Frankie’s looking at him weird now too, and Thomas doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Nothing’s wrong. Thanks for checking in, though.”

“Of course, Thomas.” They let him go, and he can’t shake the feeling that they’re watching him for the rest of the day.

Thomas isn’t as careful as he should be when they run the next day. Rosa was watching him again this morning, and glaring at Minho— she’s never had a problem with him before, so he doesn’t know what she’s thinking. Even going slow so Minho doesn’t reinjure himself, Thomas still ends up tripping in a ditch just off the little path they’re following.

“Woah, shank, it’s a good thing you weren’t this clumsy in the Maze. You would have had concussions constantly.” Minho’s grip is maybe a little too tight on his arm, but looking at the sharp drop-off of the ‘ditch’, Thomas understands why. Minho pulls him back to solid ground, not even grunting with the effort. Rude, honestly. Thomas knows he’s gained weight lately, even though he hasn’t been able to bring himself to say the words out loud quite yet.

For some reason, it feels like the minute he says anything, it’ll all disappear.

“How’s your ankle? Didn’t twist it or anything?”

“Just stepped wrong, I think. Wasn’t paying attention.” Thomas admits. Putting more than minimal pressure on his foot sends an odd fuzzy pain feeling through his ankle, so they call it for the day.

“Hey, Thomas, if it’s bad I can carry you.” Minho offers.

“You’ve still got a cracked rib, Minho, you’re not carrying me.” Thomas can’t help laughing a little. “It’s probably not even sprained, Harriet will wrap it and I’ll be good to go.” Still, he lets Minho take a little more of his weight than he really needs to. If yesterday was nice, this is better.

He doesn’t know why, and he can’t explain it, but he likes it.

Rosa’s not watching when they get back, but Frankie is.

If Thomas didn’t know better, he’d think one of them is jealous of him or Minho. But they’re dating each other, so that doesn’t make sense.

He’ll figure it out later, he doesn’t have the energy to bother right now.

“Harriet, we require your assistance.” They don’t go directly to the medical cabin, instead joining Harriet where she’s sitting by the firepit.

“I nearly fell off the path,” Thomas tells her, sheepish. It’s a little ridiculous. Running was all he did, and now he’s not even good at that! “Minho caught me, but my ankle might be twisted.”

She has him take off his shoe and sock, then rolls up his pants a little. “It’s not swelling up too much. Any pain when I touch it?” He shakes his head. She adds more pressure, slowly, and he stops her when it does hurt.

“Very mild twist, it’ll probably just hurt for the rest of the day. I’ll wrap it anyway since I don’t think Minho is going to let me get away with not wrapping it,” Harriet rolls her eyes at him pointedly, “And you’re good to go. Maybe no standing around in the kitchen, though.”

“I was going to help Sonya with harvesting the strawberries anyway. The earliest ones in the greenhouse are looking pretty good.”

“Just don’t eat them all before we get them to Frypan.” Minho hits him on the back of the head lightly.

“No promises.” Thomas grins at him. “If you’re lucky, I’ll bring you a few.”

“Oh, you better.” Minho looks like he’s going to say—or do—something else, but instead, he heads back to the medical cabin.

#thomas #minho #gally #tmr #thominho #thomally #sonya #harriet #tmr fic #thominho fic #thomally fic #thominally #thominally fic #maze runner fic #post canon #whump fic #whump writing #nix writes #hurt thomas #hurt minho #hurt gally #everyone's hurt in this chapter #could've followed my fears all the way down #ao3 #ao3 fic

[enneamage]

Youtube, counterculture and What The People Want. These are massive topics that really get the noggin joggin’. Tommy delivered a motivational speech (still peppered with a bit of a lack of awareness that the people he looks back on fondly were once criticized for creating low effort trend following content) about how the people are craving a change because of how hollow certain video formats are becoming.

I’ve touched a little bit on Mr.Beastification before, namely how people are using him as a scapegoat to disown their own pull towards the illusion of safety and guaranteed success. The era of algorithm hacks and mind tricks that we’re in now reminds me a bit of the media version of the pickup artist / redpill scene, where self-styled experts try to brute force human behavior and connection through over-focusing on numbers and science of dubious origin. People have always wanted to bottle and redistribute luck and charisma, and the fact that the YouTube game is half human and half machine makes it seem slightly less insane to try and ‘hack.’ 

As an aside, is there anyone checking up on the people who solely and religiously follow all these hacks and advice? Like, are they actually doing well (in a numbers and personal wellbeing sense) when that’s the primary pillar of their content? I feel like even in the case of Mr. Beast, he probably over-reduces his success down to the variables that he can control/measure rather than the unknowable pile of factors outside of them, so it’s probably not as easy to replicate as he makes it sound.

(Dr. Mittens has a good post about how despite the narratives around Dream, Dream did not come up from zero solely because of his tactical brain, although he’s often used as an example of someone who power-gamed his success.)

So two questions come up in the wake of all this, what is the public hunger that Mr. Beastification inspires, and is YouTube really the place that this pushback is actually going to happen? If YouTube the platform is partly to blame for a certain kind of content rising to the top, one of the simplest answers is to get content somewhere else, which sounds like what Tommy is trying to avoid. Youtube has a virtual monopoly on longform public video hosting so they’re not in meaningful competition with other websites doing exactly what they do, so the threat of this is a bit less.

I look in my subscription feed and even my for-you page and I kind of can’t complain—YouTube knows that I’m “The video essay type” and goes from there, and that’s the bit about the algorithm I can appreciate at the end of the day. I have, largely, been insulated from the dumber things out there. This feels like an issue that’s been taking root in areas that are less curated than my corner, and maybe that’s part of the issue—between youtube hiding most of it’s videos unless it already thinks you’re going to like them and the market flooded with nothingburger formula videos (these problems create each other), it’s more rewarding to stay in your corner than actively seek out new stuff.

Something that I think I want from YouTube (but I don’t think I’ll get because if it were to be part of the system itself it would immediately get abused) is a human referral system. Like the actual ability to curate a page/feed of videos, maybe with a comment to give them context / a reason why you like them. This is because I don’t think I’ll ever trust the creator’s desperation (built-in) and the robot overlords (just want more minutes) over another complete rando who is genuinely like “I enjoyed this :D.” Human attention follows the attention of other humans, and while the algorithm follows that logic in a crude way, putting some texture back into that process might be able to do a lot.

On the topic of franchises, most of the fictional content I consume is from a fandom background so I know that repetition and familiar formats/premises have their place. (Call me parasoical but I like knowing who people are.) I understand why people want to talk about creativity and originality in a world obsessed with formula and guarantees, but I would say to not throw the baby out with the bathwater either, because some people can become so obsessed with innovation that they become backhandedly disdainful of people who have more grounded and reliable tastes.   

#tubeposting #Mage has decided to play one-sided discourse pong with Mr. Simons to pass the time

[deadmantellsnotales]

Hey folks! It’s time for a round of Penn has an idea but can’t draw it! ~Animatic edition~

This idea is Casey centered and goes with the song Ship in a Bottle by fin (which is an amazing song btw!!)

The song basically tackles the struggles Casey has about adjusting to the present while also keeping some parts of the resistance secret from everyone (besides the few happy moments that happened).

He feels his anxiety get the better of him, being slightly protective of the others, too tense and wary of everything around, flinching at every sound that echoes in the night.

Because of how many deaths and tragedies happened in the apocalypse, Casey has blocked most of them out, at least until they haunt him in his sleep after he is in the present timeline.

He see’s the piles of dead bodies, the blood seeping from their lifeless flesh as they laid on the debris covered ground. Every face is carved into his brain and he can’t get rid of the images. There’s this longing of wanting to share his nightmares, to have the reassurance that everything was fine, but seeing the turtles being happy and not affected by the total apocalypse of the Krang, he holds himself back.

He doesn’t want to scare the others more than the krang situation already did.

The others slowly realize Casey’s actions and try to help him in the few ways they can, but feels like their efforts are fruitless as Casey waves them off and leaves every time the topic comes up.

Cue in the part where Leo comes through the portal.

Casey feels conflicted about seeing his sensei, he’s happy that he’s alive yet at the same time has grieved and learned to accept that he died. How does a teen deal with that emotional whiplash of seeing someone you thought was dead standing right in front of you?

Reluctant avoidance that’s what.

Casey sticks by Leo’s side for the full part of his recovery but as Leo adapts to the present, Casey is distancing himself not because he wants to, but because seeing his sensei brings back the horrible memories he wants to forget.

Of course Leo knowing Casey all his life, spots this but can’t seem to get an answer out of his student. And it takes being saved after a wild mutant to make the kid talk.

Casey let’s out all his anxieties, fears, nightmares and all the things he’s been holding back, and Leo can see theirs guilt swirling in his kids eyes.

“I’m mad at myself and I hate it-“ Leo let Casey his his plastron, his fist tight and clenched as his emotions started pouring out. “I-I’m mad that the others can have a peaceful life and not have to go through anything we did. I’m mad that I can’t get any sleep because all of the dead bodies and killings keep replaying in my head. I’m mad that I feel like I have to avoid you to not feel like my life is still in danger and that seeing you makes me realize we’re all alone. Our family is dead and we’re the only ones who made it out alive.”

Leo pulls Casey into a tight hug, his arms tightly wrapped around the teen.

“You are never alone Casey. Everyone is watching over us even while we’re still living, and I know that they’re proud of you for making it this far. I’m so proud of you for making it this far and saving the future. I couldn’t have asked for a better student.”

Anata wa hitori janai

Now Casey can’t stop his tears, he hides his face in Leo’s plastron and the older turtle can’t help but hug his student just a bit tighter.

“Everything’s okay Casey. I’m right here. We’re here with you.”

#dmtnt #future!leo #casey jr #rottmnt #tmnt fic #father son moment #tmnt angst #Penn Turtle Chats

[haeva]

#5 - "I'm so glad you could find the time to do this with me." + supercorp if you're taking prompts?👀

I don't want you like a best friend

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Kara is confused by her newfound romantic feelings for her best friend.

Author's note: I think it's official: I can only write Gay Pining! Someone save me from myself! Also, I technically used that line and they were in a coffee shop so that counts as me writing the prompt right? Sorry, Jo! Ily, though!

Ever since Alex’ wedding, Kara noticed something had changed between her and Lena. Whenever the two of them were hanging out together, she’d feel these butterflies in her stomach, almost as if she was in love. Which, of course, was ridiculous. She’d never felt these feelings for another woman before. Besides, when Alex had come out Kara had supported her, but she hadn’t related to what her sister said. And yet, here she was, constantly thinking about Lena. Lena, who most certainly wouldn’t feel the same way about her. So Kara had gone against her heart’s desires and put some distance between her and Lena. Not too much, or her best friend might notice that something was off. But she had made up some excuse about being too busy the last three times Lena had tried to get lunch with her. So when a message showed up on her phone asking if the two of them could get some coffee later, Kara knew she had to say yes to avoid any suspicion. 

It’s a date! Came the reply from Lena. For a second, Kara’s brain short-circuited, or so she believed at least. Date?! Until the realization hit her that that was just a thing people say and she didn’t mean it that way. Kara couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or relieved. 

“I’m so glad you could find the time to do this with me,” Lena said with a big smile on her face, when the two of them sat down at their table at the coffee shop. “You’ve just been so busy lately,” she added, before taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Yeah,” Kara said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “So busy with being Supergirl and being Kara and, you know, saving the world and all…that.” Stop talking! Instead, she just chuckled nervously. 

She watched as Lena’s eyebrows slowly crept towards each other, into a worried frown. “Are you alright? If now is not a good time for you, we could reschedule…”

“No!” Kara yelled. She felt her cheeks flush red as other customers turned to watch the two of them. It wasn’t until everyone had gone back to their own business that she continued. “No, now is perfect. It really is, trust me.” She forced a smile on her face. 

The one Lena gave her in return was completely real. “Alright, then. I guess I just worry too much about the people that I love, sometimes.” 

“That you do, “ Kara said, chuckling. She nervously sipped her coffee. “Do you want to see the drawing that Esme made of us?” she asked to change the topic. 

“I want to see all the art that my goddaughter makes,” Lena answered, as Kara took out her phone to show a picture of the child’s drawing. There was Kara as Supergirl and Lena in one of her pantsuits, with Auntie Kara and Auntie Lena written above them in messy handwriting. 

“That’s adorable! Oh, look, we’re holding hands!” Lena exclaimed. What?!

Kara took a quick look at the picture on her phone and it did appear that the hands of their stick-figure selves were joined together. “Oh…That…That’s because Esme knows that we are best friends.” Please don’t tell me my niece figured out my crush! Kara thought. Wait, no, not a crush. It’s. Not. A. Crush! 

“Kara, it really seems like something’s up with you today. Maybe, you don’t want to talk about it with me, but I just want to let you know that if anything is wrong, I am here for you.” Lena had that worried look on her face again. She reached out her hand to place it on top of Kara’s. She had done it many times before, but this time it was different. This time, Kara didn’t want her to ever pull away again. 

She knew that she couldn’t lie to Lena and she also didn’t want to keep any more secrets from her. But she also couldn’t tell her the truth and risk losing the best friend that she’s ever had. And so she just nodded. “You’re right. There is something going on I just…I can’t tell you right now. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. Just promise me that you’ll talk about it with someone, if not me. Alex, maybe?” 

Kara gave her a small smile. “I will.” I think I’ll have to. Alex is the only one who might understand. “Let’s not dwell on my problems though,” she added in a cheerier tone. “There are much more interesting matters to talk about.” She leaned over the table, and looked to her left, then to her right, as if she was about to tell her biggest secret. “Don’t tell anyone, especially not Nia, but I saw Brainy looking and diamond rings on the internet the other day so I think…” 

She didn’t go see Alex immediately after saying goodbye to Lena and promising her to do this again soon. Instead, she waited a couple days, until Alex came over for pizza night. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,“ Kara said once all the pizza was gone. “Or rather, I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Alex had that same worried tone in her voice as Lena had had back in the coffee shop. 

“When you found out that you were a lesbian, you said that there was stuff from your past that just clicked. Right?”

“Yes,” Alex answered, visibly confused. It had been years now since she’d come out. “It made me realize all the other crushes I’d had on girls before.” 

“Right. But what if someone, a woman, thinks that she might have a crush on another woman, except she’s never…she never felt like that before about women.” Kara gave her sister a look as defeated as she felt inside. 

“Is this about Lena?” Alex asked carefully. 

Kara’s eyes became as big as saucers. “How did you know?” She asked. If Alex knows, then maybe Lena also knows. Oh no! Nonononono! 

“She told me.” 

Kara’s heart skipped a beat. Lena knew. Lena knew. 

“She came to me weeks ago. So I told her that she might be bisexual. I’m so glad that she told you though, and that it didn’t change anything between the two of you.” Wait, what? 

“Alex, hold up. What are you talking about?” Kara didn’t think she’d ever been so confused in her entire life. She took one of the couch pillows and hugged it to her chest as a way of comforting herself. 

“Lena came out to you, right?” Alex asked, clearly worrying that she might have said too much. 

“No, she didn’t!” Kara hugged her pillow tighter. “I was talking about me. I like Lena.” 

Her sister grinned at her, suddenly. “Well, then you’re in luck, because she likes you too.” 

If there was ever a moment in Kara’s life that she felt more joy than right there and then, listening to Alex’ words, she did not remember it. “Really?!” 

“Yes!” The words had barely left Alex’ mouth before Kara jumped up and pulled her into a hug. 

“This is the best moment of my life!” Kara exclaimed, as both the sisters laughed. 

“Then go get your girl!” 

“What, now?!” Kara looked at the clock; it was already late. Surely Lena didn’t want her to come over at this hour. 

Alex seemed to disagree. “Yes, now! And text me! I want to know everything!” 

Using her superspeed to put on some decent clothes, Kara rushed out the door and headed towards Lena’s place. 

She was right about Lena not expecting her to show up to her home this late. 

“Kara, what a surprise!” She didn’t look upset about it. On the contrary, she seemed happy to see her. 

“I talked to Alex, like you said.” Kara couldn’t stop smiling. This was really going to happen.

“That’s great! But you didn’t come all the way over here just to tell me that, I assume.” 

Kara shook her head. “No. I came here to tell you that…Lena, I’m in love with you.” She sighed. There was no taking it back now. 

Lena stared at her with a shocked expression on her face and for a moment Kara thought that maybe she’d had it all wrong. That Alex had just assumed Kara was the girl that Lena had a crush on. There were all kinds of scenarios still running through her head, when she felt Lena’s lips on hers. 

The kiss was perfect. It was everything Kara had dreamed kissing the love of her life would be like. She never wanted it to end. 

It was Lena who broke the kiss. “Why don’t you come inside?” she asked, slightly out of breath. “Can’t have you standing in the doorway all evening.” There was a spark inside of her eyes that made Kara think her sister would have to wait on that update for a while. With a beating heart, she followed Lena inside.

#supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #my fic

[thegoblinboy]

I know it’s WIP Wednesday! And I have some asks that I have to answer from last week 😭 I got so distracted with my bang fic and now this new werewolf fic that I started. Ahhhh I’ll try doing some of the asks but my brain is in one spot right now Lmao. So I’ll just show you guys a small snippet of what I’m currently working on for the day!

Snippet from my upcoming story “Bark At The Moon”

"Chris, I think you need to cut back on 'The Last Of Us', It might be getting to your head because I will not die from foot fungus." He laughs gently, a small snort leaving him before he turns his head to look back forward. Carefully nodding his head in acknowledgement to a group of kids that he recognized from school. Wincing as his feet lands back onto dry pavement, causing him to bounce a little bit again, hearing the slight laughter from a couple of people around him.

"Athletes foot existed way before that show started to air Munson," Chrissy snorts out as she moves her hand up to her hair, that was down past her shoulders only for a second before she had to tie it up into ponytail for the pool. Wearing two hair ties on her wrist, one that was for her and the other for Eddie. Who had been too distracted with the idea of seeing a boy back from the dead then swimming or looking up pool rules."Now, don't change the topic! Did you? Or did you not come only for Steve Harrington?" She accuses, walking a bit faster to playfully poke the back of the others right shoulder. Green sandals slapping the scolding pavement loudly, nearly hitting the others heels in the process.

"Well there was that one other time when Johnny Depp's face randomly popped up in an ad when I was watching po-"

"Ew, don't you dare finish that sentence dude or I will seriously jump in this pool and drown myself." Chrissy's nose is scrunched up at him in disgust. Gagging lightly as she quickly adds, "And there's children!" She squeals a little bit as they finally find the worst spot to sit at. A small area near the corner of the fence that everyone avoided due to the amount of ants that lived in said corner. Both of them scrunch their noses up at the sight of bugs, Eddie being extra careful not to squish any from underneath him as he held a battle with his sensitive feet.

"Well, you did ask me if I've ever come for anyone but Steve Harrington." Eddie comments with a sleazy smile, tilting his head to look away from the ground back to Chrissy. He knew exactly what he was doing as he keeps squirming around, eyes fleeting down to the towel that the other was carrying along with the bag filled with their things. Snapping his fingers at her to drop the towel to the ground, being impatient. Still doing a slight jig in attempt at making sure to keep his feet from burning to a crisp.

"I should let your feet burn off," She playfully growls, setting the bag down off to the side first, furthest away from the bugs as possible. Purposely not setting the towel down to the ground, knowing exactly what she was doing before quickly rolling up the towel in a tight twist. Swinging it in a small circle to get the twist effect before moving forward and slapping the others side with it, causing a loud slapping noise to go over the buzzing sound of chatter that surrounded them. Eddie yelps out, hand flying to his side skin turning a light pink with little goosebumps forming from where the towel impacted. Now hopping up and down in a little circle, hissing from the pain of his feet and his side. "Feet still hurt?" The girl teases, batting her eyelashes at him playfully. Breaking out in soft giggles when he begins to glare at her, though a softness still left in his demeanor.

"You abuse me woman," he whines in complaint right as she finally lays the towel out evenly on the ground. Barely getting it on the ground before Eddie's standing on top of it with a dramatic sigh. "Poor things were about to turn into fried dogs." He jokes, referencing his feet in a way that he knew Chrissy hated. Earning a small pinch at the fattiest part of his arm, causing him to giggle manically at the other. Closing his eyes for a second as the sun flashes itself into his eyes, blinding him leaving him to only be able to hear Chrissy digging into her bag loudly. Moving item after item around with soft clacks.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #chrissy cunningham #wip wednesday

[hopeymchope]

What do you think is the reason why Sayaka disliked Homura even back when she was still Moemura? I will admit that sayaka had good reasons to dislike and distrust Homura in the PMMM anime because Homura was acting quite callous and overall pretty shady, but why did she dislike her so much even in the older timeliness?

I want to open by saying: I don't think Sayaka has come off as being too harsh towards "Moemura" in the timelines we've seen. Certainly in the Magia Record game storylines we've seen with both of them, they seem to get on relatively fine? I guess it might be a little snippy at times. Hence: "relatively." But even so, it's not too bad? Maybe you remember some examples better than my brain can pull out right now.

The biggest example of this sort of Anti-Moemura tension that I can remember is from the main PMMM series when Sayaka's just instantly dismissive of Homura when Moemura tries to straight-up just tell the group what Kyubey is hiding. And I could go off on a whole tangent here about why that scene bothers the crap outta me... but I'll save it for the end of this post and put it under a cut. I go off-topic too much as it is in these answers. :P

Okay, so why does Sayaka instantly shut Homura down when Homura is just telling her the truth (and pretty gently at that)? Why is there that undercurrent of snippiness between them at times? My instinct is: Probably jealousy? Moemura quickly gets close to Madoka and seems to "replace" Sayaka as Madoka's closest friend. Sayaka's known Madoka longer, so that's gotta sting. Plus, y'know, the yuri undertones are strong with this show. Could be a little bit of "jilted lover" layered in there.

So I think that's the crux of it. But I confess that, to me, the most awkward relationship among the "Holy Quintet" is actually the one between Regular/Edgy Homura and Mami. Those two... even before I got to see Rebellion, I was reading the manga spinoffs and thinking, "Wow, they don't like each other very much." At their very cores, they are diametrically opposed forces. Mami is largely selfless whereas Homura is largely focused on selfish desires. Mami is always doing her best to look past her regrets and make the most of what she's got even when things are tough, whereas Homura refuses to be satisfied with fate's design and is a pile of regret and angst. And then the two of them going at each other in that amazing Rebellion battle felt like a big payoff to that tension.

Fair warning: I’m now gonna go off on a side rant about why the scene/timeline where Sayaka just instantly shuts down Moemura's truth-telling just bugs the crap out of me. :P lol

The short version is: That scene makes zero sense if you think about it for one minute. It's pretty obviously just a quick-&-dirty patch to wallpaper over the question of "Why doesn't she just tell them?" Urobuchi would've been better off showing us some bad consequences as a result of just telling them up-front... but in fairness, I suspect he knows that. I think he probably went with this hyperfast/full-of-holes way to say "Nah, wouldn't work" due to the time constraints of the medium. So I kinda get why it needed to be this way. I just wish we could've handled it more smoothly.

Anyway: Why do I insist that Sayaka's instantaneous denial of there being any possibility of Homura telling the truth make "zero sense"? Because they can literally just agree to ask Kyubey. That's all it would take to clear this up - a single, short conversation. Low effort, high return. I seriously doubt the entire team would just refuse to even fucking talk to him if Homura were to say "Why don't you just talk to Kyubey?" or something to that effect. That'd be ridiculous.

So yeah, literally just ask him about it! History proves that he won't even deny anything! He may avoid sharing information or imply things that aren't true without ever saying them, but he doesn't outright lie. That's kind of a major character trait for him/them.

In a perfect world, there would've been time for us to see that conversation play out, and then show how directly sharing that knowledge is ultimately still disastrous for the team. But hey, whatevs. I understand that we were working within the confines of a 13-episode series which — at the time — had no reason to assume it'd be expanded upon.

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #homura akemi #sayaka miki #asks #anon #mami tomoe

[ftm-radio]

okay, I'm diverting from the default ask/answer format for this one because there are mentions of sensitive topics. I generally prefer to avoid these topics (though i dont have that posted anywhere, so no worries, anon) but I do want to answer anyway to try and help out.

I'd rather err on the side of caution for anybody who does not wanna read any of this, so I'm putting the ask and my response under a cut.

⚠️cw: brief mentions of sex & horniness, along with concerns about fetishization

Anonymous:

So…I don’t really know how to phrase this but I’m hoping you can help and this isn’t creepy. I’m a straight cis woman and have never had dysphoria beyond what I assumed was normal puberty woes (hated my chest getting bigger, hated getting a period, hated dresses). Recently something came up during sex that put the thought in my head of having a penis and I have not been able to stop thinking about it. I bought a binder and almost screamed with joy at how I looked but chalked it up to looking skinnier without my breasts in the way. (I’ve always had body image issues and I thought it was about weight but now I’m…not sure?)Today, “just to see”, I stuffed my pants with socks and I swear I almost passed out with how amazing it looked and felt. But with each of these explorations has come a really strong, idk how to better phrase it, horniness, like more than I’ve ever felt before when dressing up my female sexiness. So now I’m really confused about whether it’s like I’m just feeling confident and sexy and that’s why vs maybe I’m fetishizing? I don’t know any trans guys so idk if this is normal or if I’m being gross. I’m sorry if this is offensive and weird and you can ignore me if so but i just feel so bad and confused and idk what to do or who to talk to.

okay so right off the bat I wanna assure you that no, this is not creepy, offensive, or weird! you aren't doing any harm by exploring your gender and/or how you present yourself. it's totally fine to try new things and experiment and question! (it can be fun & i feel like more people should do that, tbh.) and I'm not an expert on what is/isn't fetishization, but what you're describing does not sound like fetishization to me. so I hope that helps you feel better and eases some of the anxiety!

Now, there's a lot more to discuss, so I'm gonna get right into it. This will be wordy. Buckle up.

Let's start with dysphoria and euphoria.

You mention hating when your chest got bigger, and I definitely understand that. I didn't actively start disliking my chest until after I realized I could potentially be rid of it, but for as long as I can recall I've been emotionally distant and uninterested in that part of me to such an extent that as a teen I would occasionally, uh... daydream about getting breast cancer and needing to have my breasts removed and then thinking, 'yeah,,, I'd be fine with that.' hahaha #justgirlythings amirite?

You also mention possible body image issues around weight. I'm a fat trans guy, and before I realized I was trans I also thought all my problems with my body all revolved around the fact that I was fat, that that was why I was uncomfortable and why I felt like my body didn't fit. I didn't know anything about dysphoria or trans people until I was an adult, so all I knew growing up was that being fat was "bad" and that's what I got bullied and snickered at for, so *of course* that was why I felt shitty about myself!!! Yeah, not quite. My brain just didn't know what the problem was so I directed all the blame at the thing I did know about.

But nowadays, I'm just not as bothered by my weight/body shape. I felt like my only chance at being happy as a girl (or a.. woman, I guess. ew.) was to be thinner and fit society's beauty standards as much as possible, but now I know that I can be happy just being a guy. any guy. fat, thin, buff, somewhere in between—I'd be content anywhere in that spectrum as long as I'm a guy. It wasn't my size/shape that was the problem, it was my gender, and gender dysphoria. And maybe that's how it is for you, too. it's something to consider, at least.

Okay, moving along! so dysphoria is the crappy part, the discomfort and distress. Let's get to its fun (and much cooler) cousin you may not have heard much about: gender euphoria!

See, what you experienced when you tried a binder & packing for the first time sound quite a bit like gender euphoria to me. In my experience, the first few times you feel euphoria are the most intense and vivid because its a big shock to your system after however many years you've gone feeling not-quite-right. And then after a while you kind of get used to it and it's not quite so overwhelming. It's like first you have these crazy fireworks going off, but then it simmers down to a cozy little candle. Still glowing, still warm, but it's more familiar, more like home.

You also mention feeling a different kind of excitement (horny) and I'm.. not sure I can help you much with figuring that out. 😅 I'm decidedly quite asexual, so I don't have a whole lot of experience with uhhhh sexy feelings and whatnot. I do think you could definitely be feeling way more confident in yourself and your appearance, and that might be what's leading to these feelings, but that's as far as I can guess.

I can at least attest to the fact that binding and presenting more masc made me more confident in my appearance and feel better about myself just like, in general, so for someone who is more inclined to ~sexy feelings~ than I am, I think it would make sense for you to feel hotter? idk, I don't really go here.

now, regarding your worries about fetishizing. I already said before that I don't think that's what's going on (and i still stand by that) but I just want to explain that a little more. Your excitement seems to be focused more on yourself and what you're doing than, say, trans men or trans people in general, so I don't think that's a fetish. If you were specifically lusting after trans guys because of their transness, that would be fetishization, I think. In my opinion, it sounds like you're just feeling yourself out and learning what makes you feel good, and that's perfectly fine. Nothing wrong with that. :)

As for not knowing what to do about all this, I would say that reaching out to somebody (me, in this case) is a great first step. If you're trying to figure yourself out and what you want, then research can help, especially if you don't know a lot about trans people and the lgbt+ community in general. Obviously you found my blog, but there are plenty of others you might find helpful! I specifically recommend @ transgenderteensurvivalguide as they have a lot of info and resources that have helped me out (despite not being a teen, lol).

Another option for you (in addition to research) is to dig down deep and do some journaling!!! yeah. sorry. it's kind of my go-to. write about what you're feeling and ask yourself questions. (If you want a sort-of guide thing for this, I answered another ask recently-ish on my blog where I had a bunch of example questions that i myself have used when journaling.)

If you want to jump right in and try more than binding or packing, you could also try experimenting with what pronouns you use! whether it's in-person with safe people you trust, or with an anonymous account online that your friends/family won't find, that could help you get a sense of what's up!

Okay, i think that's all I've got right now. This wound up pretty long, as per usual, and responding to this took a bit longer than I meant to, but I hope you're still hanging around and this can help you out, anon. I also hope anybody else who reads this can benefit in some small way.

I think one of the most important things for you to do is to go easy on yourself. Gender is way more complicated than our cis-iety (cis society, I 100% stole this word from someone) teaches us. it's okay to be confused and not know quite where you're at, and it's okay if you don't have an answer right away. you have time to figure this out. hell, you can take as long as you want. there's no rush! nobody is standing at the golden Gates of Validation with a stopwatch to see if you're fast enough to get in.

if you have more questions, my inbox is open, and I wish you the best, wherever you end up.

💜

#ftm radio #listener call in #ask #anon #questioning #trans #transgender #ftm #gender questioning #gender identity #gender

[neowinestainedress]

⸺ REQUESTS RULES   ⸺

I already had a section about this under 'about the blog' but since I've changed some things and I want it to be easier to find, I made this separate post. Also, I'm gaining a lot of new followers and I need to clarify some things.

REQUESTS: closed

⸺ RULE 1 I don't write y/n unless you send me a request for a drabble. The main reason is that I don't like writing in second person but I decided to give it a try for these smaller requests and it doesn't 'trigger' me this bad so I'll keep going for now. If the stories are requested, I've been trying to don't give the main character a name unless I've been discussing the story more with the anon and they don't mind it.

⸺ RULE 2 Since I've been also accepting drabbles, when you send a request, please specify if you want a drabble or if you want a longer fic (+1000k words count, more details, etc). HOW?

DRABBLES REQUESTS "member(s) + kink/phrases/whatever you want" of course you can also add a rant in it or if you have something more specific but just use that format so I'll know you want a short thing and with the 2nd person pov.

STORIES REQUESTS In the same way you've always been doing, maybe use the word "request" so I'm sure it's a longer story.

⸺ TIMING I always answer the requests you send, if I accept them and even if I feel like don't write them (for now it never happened). So if I tell you I'll write it, I will. I'd like to follow the time order I've been sent them but it's all about inspiration and sometimes I write a story in a day and some others it takes me months. If I make you wait it's not because I hate you but because I want it to be as good as possible, especially since it has been requested and that means you trust me with it. When it comes to drabbles I've been answering them in the span of the day (but it can change because I also have a life and I'm a student)

⸺ HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE WORKING ON IT? HERE. You find a list of all my upcoming works. I update it often so it's accurate. I also have the #requests updates to keep track of them

⸺ MEMBERS I DON'T WRITE ABOUT I don't feel the same inspiration for everybody and it's also pretty random. If you don't see a member in my masterlist I probably don't write about them (except for wayv, I have stories in the wip with Kun and Yangyang that I should post for October)

⸺ THINGS I WON’T WRITE ABOUT 

graphic sa

mafia 

I’m not a big fan of name-calling like slut/whore so I avoid using it as much as possible (but i put degradation/humiliation kink in my works, I simply don’t use those terms) 

age regression / age play / infantilization of any kind 

scat play, feet fetish, somnophilia, cnc, korean honorific kink 

extremely big age gaps (my limit is around ten years) 

prostitution (not in a romanticized way but I think that aside from the poly series I won’t use this topic on any other occasion either) 

high school au (only if I need some kind of flashbacks but otherwise I’m too old for that shit, and so are the people I write about) 

⸺ ONE LAST THING When you send a request it would be nice to let me know what you think about the story once I post it, EVEN if you didn't like it (of course, be polite). In general, feedback is always appreciated but requests are something done for you because you specifically asked them. If I didn't like writing them I wouldn't accept them, but please keep in mind that it's even harder to write a story with an idea that doesn't come from your brain.

#requests rules #drabbles rules #fanfiction rules #navigation

[occultbrew]

Don’t Fear the Reaper | TEASER

Summary:

Jessie Tyler, the best friend to Chrissy Cunningham. Jessie and Chrissy are both being haunted by their dreams until one day, Chrissy is found gruesomely murdered. Eager to find the reason why, Jessie searches for answers. In the back of her mind, knowing she might be next.

18+

OC x Eddie Munson

authors note: please be gentle :) this is my first fic. it’s just for fun! enjoy,my loves <3

……………..……………………………………………………………

Hawkins, Indiana. Probably the last place you want to be. I have lived here my whole life and still yet to leave. Thankfully, it’s my senior year of high school at Hawkins High. Then, I can finally leave this shithole. It’s not all bad though. I have my best friend, Chrissy, to thank for that. She has been my rock through my whole life and always managed to make me smile. I have a habit of frowning while Chrissy can’t seem to stop smiling. We’re opposites in that way but similar in many ways. She practically begged me to join the cheer squad when we entered high school and after hours of her giving me a detailed list of why I should join, I finally agreed. Now, I’m not usually cheer material but I would do anything for Chrissy. It’s been hard but I’ve found that I enjoy the workout and it gives me a rush to be up in the air. The other girls can be rude but Chrissy and I tend to stick to each other and ignore their pointed stares. It’s been her and I against the world.

“Jessie Tyler! You’re going to be late!”

My eyes shoot open and I am welcomed by my mothers screeching voice. God she really has to tone that down. A simple shake of my bed would suffice but no, my mother wants to wake the whole goddamn neighborhood.

“I’m up!”

If I don’t yell back she tends to keep hollering and then she brings out the water. You do not want her to bring out the water. Dragging myself out of my warm bed, I trudge to my bathroom and I’m met with a horrendous sight. My hair is sticking in every direction and there’s dry drool on my chin. God, I’m an animal when I sleep. Splashing me face with cold water, I wash off the drool and silently gag while doing it. Drying my face, I grab my toothbrush in order to get rid of the terrible taste that has been festering in my mouth. Dozing off as I brush my teeth, I don’t notice the sound of footsteps in my room.

“Good morning!”

I practically choke on my toothpaste as I clutch my heart in shock. Turning to see the culprit, I am met with blonde hair and wide blue eyes.

“God Chris you about killed me”

I choke out while catching my breath. She just laughs and leans against the doorframe.

“Jess, you look like a car ran you over. You do realize you have like 5 minutes till we have to go?”

Chrissy is trying to hold in her chuckles as I glare at her.

“No Chris, I definitely didn’t know that. Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I had a rough night so I forgot to set my alarm.”

Avoiding eye contact, I can feel her worrying gaze on me. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turn to see Chrissy filled with concern.

“You’re having the nightmares again? I thought they went away after therapy?”

Chrissy questions me. Flashes of the terrors go through my brain, I squint my eyes trying to rid them. To be honest, they’ve gotten worse recently but I don’t know what’s setting it off. I think of ways I can avoid the topic but I know she’ll keep bugging me till I finally break.

“They did. But, it’s just been this week. Maybe I’m just having a weird week. Maybe PMS, who knows.”

I try to brush it off, because it’s probably nothing anyway. That’s why I didn’t tell her. Maybes it’s stress.

“So you’ve been having the nightmares all week and you didn’t think to tell me? Is that why you’ve been acting weird and distant all week?”

God, see this is why I didn’t want to talk about it. Chris gets worried for no reason and then I have to assure her it’s nothing.

“Chris, it’s really nothing, probably just an off week! I’m not the only one who’s been acting distant, y’a know!”

Chrissy pulls her hand back and widens her eyes. She’s been acting strange all week and I didn’t pry because I thought maybe giving her space would help. It’s like she’s not even here sometimes.

“I….I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chrissy tries to cover her guilt with a smile. She always does this, brushes off whatever she’s feeling.

“Chris! Don’t lie to me, okay? You can talk to me. God, we’ve been friends for over 10 years! Trust me, okay?”

Grabbing her hand and give it a little squeeze. She’s been on edge all week. I don’t know what could be bothering her, we basically spend everyday together. Unless she’s with that asshole Jason. That’s it’s. Maybe it’s Jason!

“Hey, is it Jason? Has he hurt you?”

Chrissy yanks her hand away and widens her eyes.

“No, it is not Jason! God no, Jess!” She raises her voice as she says my name.

“Then what is it, Chrissy?”

I’m beginning to get irritated, if she gets to pry the truth out of me then I’m going to pry it out of her.

She closes her eyes for a second and take a breath.

“I’ve been having these dreams, Jess. Except they feel so real….I don’t even know how to explain it. They haunt me all night and it won’t stop.”

Tears fill her eyes. She looks terrified. I’ve never seen her this scared.

“What happens in these dreams?”

She closes her eyes as she tries to recall the dreams.

“T-They involve my mom. They all start out so real but then I always hear the same sound. It’s the sound of a clo-“

Chrissy is cut off by my mom swinging the door open. Chrissy quickly wipes her tears and gives my mom a smile.

“Girls, you’re going to be late! Did you not hear me calling for you?”

My mom looks exhausted and furious.

“Sorry, Ms. James! We’ll be down in just a second!”

Chrissy flashes her a sweet smile and my mother gives her a soft smile in return. God, she’s always liked Chrissy more than me. Always tells me how polite and sweet she is.

You should be more like her, don’t y’a think Jessie?

My mom leaves the room and Chrissy heads to the door.

“I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

Her voice is still a bit shaky form our interrupted conversation.

“Hey, wait, what sound did you hear in your dreams? You were cut off by mom.”

She shakily grabs the doorknob.

“I heard..the sound of a clock.”

My heart drops.

That’s exactly what I’ve been hearing in my nightmares.

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson fic #chrissy deserved better #stranger things fic #eddie stranger things