#I'm still working a sales job and on my books as well

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for blocking my business partner and our mutual friends?

First of all, I want to establish that I'm not an idiot. I don't think I'm the smartest person in the world, I didn't do very well in school, and I'm generally a bit forgetful. I've been struggling with undiagnosed mental illness and neurodivergency for my entire life. My family growing up was very anti therapy and I've only recently brought anything up to a doctor. However, I like to think I manage myself pretty well. I have my own systems for doing things, and they may be unconventional, but it works. I've come to terms with the fact that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to work a lot harder than the average person and get a lot less credit. That's just how it is. I have two jobs, one of which is at a restaurant, and the other is a business that I started with my friend. It's still fairly small and local, but I'm really proud of how far it's come.

Me and my business partner, we'll call her Shelly, have a group of friends that we hang out with from time to time. I honestly don't like them very much, but Shelly, who has been my best friend for over a decade really enjoys hanging out with them, so though I've expressed to her that I want to start seeing them less, I've stayed friends with them, both to make Shelly happy and to avoid any drama that might be caused.

Among this group of friends is someone we'll call Dianne. Dianne will insult and berate me consistently, and then insist it was a joke. Nobody has ever laughed, and I have told Dianne that I don't find any of it funny. The other members of the friend group (aside from Shelly) said that this is just how she expresses that she likes somebody, and tried to make it seem like playful banter, but the insults are incredibly one-sided (I've never said an ill word about her to any of them, and especially not to her. I'm not rude.) and she never insults anyone but me and sometimes Shelly.

Recently ( a couple months or so ago) she started taking digs at my intelligence, as I have been a few minutes late to a couple of our hangouts, and I have trouble with my left and right. I said explicitly that I don't like it when people treat me like an idiot. I tried to be polite, but I won't stand for that. Also, being late and directions are very common things for people to struggle with, so I don't understand why that insinuates that I'm at all unintelligent. She also may have gotten this idea because I don't tend to laugh at her jokes, which are mostly things like "that's what she said" and other cheap and immature sex jokes. She usually tries to brush off the fact that I don't laugh by saying I must be dumb because I don't get her jokes. I do, they're just not very clever and I clearly have a different sense of humor than her.

I just kept trying to avoid any sort of conflict, because the rest of the group makes Shelly really happy. But then it started to get worse. The whole group seemed to be influenced by these jokes, and stopped expecting me to be able to do anything. I wasn't even the designated driver anymore, even though I'm usually the obvious choice because I don't drink. Dianne told me I'd probably crash because she didn't think I could read street signs. I've driven her home multiple times (during none of which she's been sober enough to remember my driving ability) and I've never driven at all irresponsibly while any of them were in the car. The whole group, aside from Shelly, began making jokes about how I was the resident airhead. For my birthday, Dianne got me a toddler sippy cup, and a card that said "Congrats, you're 2!". Get it. Because I'm so stupid I'm basically a child. Ha ha. So funny I forgot to laugh.

The last straw for me was when Shelly sent me a business email that was like "Are you going to be able to get the books done in time?" and basically told me to make sure I wasn't lazy when it came to keeping track of the sales, even though I've never been late with that kind of stuff. I really care about our business, and I keep track of all of the financials and do our taxes. I don't have a degree or anything, I could never afford college, so I emailed Shelly back very passive-agressively about how if she doesn't think I can do it in time, she can hire a real accountant.

We met with the friendgroup the next day and I was incredibly pissed. Dianne made another dig at me, something about our business probably going under because I'm too incompetent to do anything. I snapped. In the midst of yelling at her, I said "I am not stupid. You don't get to treat me like I am." and she said "But aren't you, though?" and I stormed out. I blocked everyone, except for Shelly.

I texted Shelly and said that she could be friends with whoever she wants, but that I'm never speaking to any of them ever again. Shelly said that I was being overdramatic, and that they're all being awkward to her now because they know that we're such good friends. I apologized for putting her in a position where she felt like she was in the middle, but told her that I was not about to take any more of that treatment. I told her I'm disappointed that after all this time, she let other people dictate the way that she sees me. When her new friends call me stupid, I can let it slide off of my back, but when my best friend of over a decade starts treating me like I'm incompetent and I can't get anything done, that really hurts. She told me that I need to learn to take a joke. I blocked her too after that. We've continued having meetings and being mostly civil, but we haven't spoken outside of that, and all the friendship is gone.

I'm mostly concerned about how this situation is going to affect our business, because I have worked so hard and I'd hate to see it fail because of petty drama and insults. I'm now feeling like I made a huge mistake by blowing up. Should I have just kept quiet to protect my job and friendship?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Hi Derin,

I’m a relatively inexperienced writer (my only publication is in a school magazine lol), and I was hoping I could ask for advice, if it’s not too much of a hassle?

It feels weird being a writer in a time where there’s so many ways to publish work, and I’m having a hard time choosing between the stable but competitive traditional publishing routes and the independence of self-publishing. As an established writer, what works for you? Is independent publishing more of a struggle? Or does it create less stress from the lack of bureaucracy surrounding the publication?

Thank you.

I've never tried traditional publishing so I can't accurately compare the two for you, but I have to ask... why on earth would you think that trad publishing is in any way *stable*? Trad publishing does have many advantages, mostly in terms of publishers having existing networks to get your books into the hands of libraries and stores and soforth (it's best to ask a trad pub author about those, it's not my area), but stability is absolutely not one of those advantages. Trad authors are dropped all the time. It's a long journey fraught with obstacles to even get the book released.

For me, the choice was easy because I didn't consider things in terms of trad vs. indie, I considered income models. The two major avenues of earning money in this field are via book sales or via 'salary'. Trad or indie publishing fits the first; making your money primarily through book sales (traditional publishing is nice here because you get an advance as well as the sales connections of the publisher and use of their editors etc., indie publishing is nice because it's faster and you keep more of the money since you're doing it all yourself). A model relying directly on sales is inherently unstable --you might earn more in the long run, but aside from your advance, it's really hard to predict how much you're getting month to month.

I chose a salary model, via Patreon, for the stability. I want to be able to predict my income, and while it does fluctuate (people subscribe and unsubscribe all the time), it doesn't fluctuate nearly as much. Patreon also tends to be a 'rolling weight'; patrons who join usually stick around for awhile, meaning that once I've acquired a patron, they increase my income for several months, often years, rather than a single sale. This also means that I can release the stories for free to people who can't afford to, or don't want to, pay me.

Independent publishing is no struggle for me whatsoever, because I use the patreon model. This means that I don't have to do most of the marketing and organisation stuff that someone trying to sell books has to do. The big issue is still marketing, but if you can get a critical mass of readers, readers who will help you by making fanart and memes and getting their friends into your work, your main job is to write the best story you can and never miss any updates. I do know that indie publishing via the book sale model can be extremely challenging, which is why some people choose trad publishing instead (which is also extremely challenging but people who know what they are doing are involved with you). If does sound like your goal is to sell books though, judging by how the question is posed, in which case I'm the wrong person to ask, because I am not in the business of selling books. A previous work of mine (Curse Words) is available for sale as an ebook, but the core of my income is via Patreon, which is an entirely different business structure.

Do any indie or traditionally published authors who rely on book sales have advice?

[bangchanbabygurl]

02: Safe Place { Pomegranates and Tulips }

Genre: Angst/Romance/BDSM/Smut/slightly introverted reader/ college reader/Surgeon Wonwoo/ book lover reader/cat lovers/DOM Wonwoo

Warnings: Explicit language/mention of domestic violence/mention of violence/alcohol abuse/mention of death/stalker/mentions of blood/drug abuse/smut scenes/dark mature themes/triggering scenes/traumatic experiences/mention of self-harm/mentions of eating disorders/mentions of SA

Word count: 718 words

╚» Now playing —» The Hand You Deal by Fennel Lily

I review the documents before returning them to Seungkwan, "Thank you, Y/N you are a lifesaver." Seungkwan said with a smile as he fixed the documents into the black folder. "So, are you joining us for the Christmas party?" He asked as I closed out the webpage of the computer. I shook my head,  "Parties aren't my thing, so to answer the question, no I will not be joining you, sorry." I said with a small smile.

Seungkwan lets out a small laugh, "Alright, miss can't keep her nose out of books; thank you for editing the documents Mingyu will be on my ass about them. I'll treat you to breakfast or your favorite ice cream on payday." Seungkwan says as he places the folder in Mingyu's office slot. I smile faintly as I gather my things and turn the lamp off, "I'll take you on that offer someday." I said.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride home?" Seungkwan asked as he adjusted his messenger bag; I nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Besides I only live two blocks away from here," I said; he sighed and nodded. "Okay, well see you Monday." He smiles and waves before walking to the parking lot. I wave back; a tired sigh escapes my lips. "Have a lovely night, Y/N. I hope you send in the new script on Sunday night. I'll be waiting," Mingyu said as he waved before jogging to a black BMW. "Goodnight, Y/N." Mingyu calls out from the window and waves one last time; I wave back.

I fix my coat and walk in the opposite direction; working for Kim's Winery, where the salary is worth it, has been helping my mind be at ease. Kim Mingyu gave me the position of manual scriptwriter; I'm in charge of getting the scripts for Ads, commercials, and venues written. Sometimes, Mingyu changes his mind more than every five minutes, causing my job to become a bit difficult. I met Seungkwan on the third week into the job; he's in charge of keeping track of the company's sales; he had returned from an overseas seal deal. He did a great job making me feel comfortable; sometimes, he helps my mind be at ease.

Sometimes, work isn't enough to keep my mind quiet; endless thoughts and questions of my childhood and family flood my mind every minute. My phone rings; it never rings unless it's Eunseo wondering if I arrived home. I answer the call, "Hello?" I felt my heart drop. "Y/N, oh, thank god. It's Dr. Cooper," I stopped in my tracks, "Dr. Cooper? What happened? Did something happen to Dylan?" I asked, feeling myself get swallowed by guilt. "No, it's none of that, Y/N. I've been trying to contact you, but your number has been changed." Dr. Cooper said; I let out a sigh of relief.

"Dr. Cooper, how did you find my number?" I asked, feeling paranoia rush through me, "I had to make sure that you were still alive, Y/N; it concerned me that your parents act like you don't exist." Dr. Cooper says. My heart aches, "How's Dylan? Is he okay?" I asked. "Dylan is well, he's grown Y/N. He's just turned eighteen and has been accepted to college. You have nothing to worry about him, although he does ask for you." Dr. Cooper says as I let out a sigh.

"Y/N, where are you? You haven't been taking your medication; you need to be treated, hun. It will get worse. Have you been struggling to stay focused and sleep?" She asked. I looked at the people walking, laughing, and living their happy moments. "Somewhere far and safe, take care of Dylan. Please, he needs you more than I do." I said before ending the call and block the number. I ran from my past, and I won't let it follow me here.

I walk up the stairs feeling tired; I slide the keypad up and unlock the apartment door. The lights were off, and Eunseo wasn't home yet, or she was staying the night at Hansol's.  I close the door and lock it; walking to my room, I become more tired as I lay on the bed. Today has been a strange day for me, and I hope no more strange days occur ever.

#seventeen woozi #seventeen smut #seventeen jun #seventeen imagines #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen fanfic #seventeen joshua #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen mingyu #seventeen #svt mingyu #svt dino #svt dk #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt jeonghan #svt smut #svt wonwoo #svt wonwoo imagines #svt the8 imagines #svt mingyu imagines #svt scoups imagines #svt scoups #svt #seventeen dino #seventeen hoshi #seventeen dk

[jbbartram-illu]

Real person message!! When making your sculptures (or other things too really!) do you ever get bored of making the same kind of guy many times? And if yes, do you have a way to spice up the process, or do you prefer to just move on to something new? (I love your work a ton! Both when the types are very different but also when they are like siblings :D)

Oh man YES I do get tired of Particular Guys! Sometimes because the whole process is so labour-intensive (hello, Woodsbeasts & big Bird Ladies), sometimes just because I run out of creative steam on 'em (most recently, sphinxes), Thankfully (because the timelines of pottery are so so so long) just not making them for a batch or two will give me a minimum 6 month break & by the time I think of going back they feel fresh & exciting again.

I also have the benefit of pottery being the more flexible part of my job (I'm also an illustrator/graphic designer) - when it started to become a viable part of my practice, I promised myself that, with the exception of commissions/prepping for particular sales, most of my batches would be of whatever I felt like making at the time. As opposed to my other work, which takes the shape of particular projects (a book, a report for a client, etc), I can just tootle away at my pottery desk, sculpting weird beasts that make me happy. This has worked well for me & I plan to stick with it as an approach for the time being.

Mugs/vessels are a bit different, as the actual making of the forms almost becomes muscle memory (especially the slab-built mugs), so it feels less creatively draining. I can, however, burn out on particular types of vessel decoration, eg. the EIGHT (8?!?) medieval-marginalia inspired pieces that are in the glaze kiln as I type. They took SO LONG and by the last couple of mugs I was full-on cursing my choices (tho if they turn out well I know I'll forget all about the pain & go oooohhhh let's make more. This is how my terrible brain works).

So yeah! Burnout happens, but I don't let it worry me because I know my weird little guys can wait until I'm ready to make 'em again :)

Note: this starts with 'real person message' because in Oct 2023 I got a bunch of annoying spam messages & asked people for real asks...then I got a ton of lovely Qs & am still working through the backlog in...uhhh...April 2024. Oops/thank you for your patience?!

#artblog #pottery #ceramics #handbuiltceramics #ask #ask answered #thenearsightedmicroraptor

[that-disabled-princess]

GO HOME, TUMBLR, YOU'RE DRUNK. For the THIRD TIME, here's my post. Let me show my goddamn knees, Tumblr.

Happy happy disability pride month to my fellow disabled folks! Since it's disability pride month, I figured I'd take the opportunity to flaunt my cane! (All sticker credits are under the cut.)

No one in my household knows about my cane--they give me enough shit for being disabled as it is--so I'm going to be proud online :D

I had to buy a cheap one off Amazon because I'm a broke teenager with no job, but it works well for me! I absolutely love my cane--it is so handy, and has saved me from many a bad flareup while out shopping. I can stay out longer without worrying so much about my knee, which is frankly amazing. I'm so happy I can do that now.

I fucking adore stickers, I have quite a few on my laptop and water bottle, and had so much fun putting them all on my cane. (What you see on my cane barely scratches the surface of the sheer number of stickers I have.) I had so much fun putting my personality onto my cane with stickers and crochet.

My doctor and I still don't know what's going on with my knee, and she advised going to an orthopedic, so that's our next step. Hopefully we can get some answers as to why my joints are fucked up.

I'm also disabled in other way besides chronic knee pain--chronic migraines, ADHD, autism, anxiety, depression, chronic hand pain from an injury. I wear prescription sunglasses to help with the migraines and sensory issues!

Happy disability pride month! 🖤❤️💛🤍💙💚🖤

Spadey sticker from @mostlymaudlin

"Love yourself" sticker from a garage sale

Appa sticker from unknown (I cannot find who the seller was)

Frog "Be you" sticker and rainbow axolotl sticker from YunaartDesign

"Queer" sticker from blackfernpdx

"I'm a book dragon, not a worm" sticker from a garage sale

Rainbow crochet caterpillar charm by me!

#disabled #disability #actually disabled #chronic pain #cane #canes #disability pride month #disability pride #disability positivity

[quinnswritingquill]

The Drug In Me Is You

Jason Todd x AFAB Reader

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

CW: Slowburn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Light? BDSM, Blood Kink, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Honestly Kinky in Gen., Reader has female gentile, Use of Y/N but not too much.

AN: This is pretty much of a what if Jason was a sugar daddy turned lover. I also posted this on Ao3 as well.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*

Not everyone is built to handle the harsh world of Gotham. I mean fuck, I was raised in this hell bent city. I grew up surviving just barely over the poverty line. Lower income childhood meant cheap or in the box food for dinner. It meant thrifted clothes or cheap chain stores having sales and deals. Brands for show. School supplies, book ads, shoes, ect.

Nothing would prepare me for tipping my toe onto the world of rich men and wealthy women. Couldn't afford to attend college, not that it was the most important thing for me. But I needed to live on my own. Support myself. Somehow I managed to land a job as a waitress at a high-end restaurant near the wealthiest part of Gotham City. The hourly pay barely covers my rent. But the tips? Those help cover food, some to cover miscellaneous costs, and a little bit extra for savings incase of other crap. Still surviving. Barely but better.

No need for another job right now. It's been months since I started there. And I even have my own little studio apartment because of the job. Within a month of saving all the money I earned and money I previously saved. It's old and covered floor to ceiling with art pieces. Some older and some fairly more recent. I like looking at them. They bring life to this creepy old building.

Today I scrambled recklessly out of bed once my alarm clock started blasting. Turning it off I glanced at the time. Damn it's only 10 am, I still have about a few hours before my shift. I stretched out my sore muscles and walked to my small kitchen to make brunch. I grab out my lovely yogurt bowl and place it on the table along with the food I'm gonna scarf down. I mix my granola mix with some strawberry yogurt in the bowl. A quick meal before I get dressed for work.

By the time I finished eating, showering, dressing up, and cleaning up it's one o'clock. I check my work outfit just in case. We only had two choices that could be four different outfits at work. White or black button up, black slacks, or a knee length skirt. Obviously with tights tho. I picked a fuzzy off my black button up and straightened the pencil skirt. Finally I put my heels into my bag and slipped on my flats.

The restaurant was busy as usual. Honestly I wished for at least one day for us to be slow. But unfortunately rich people don't exactly give one shit. At least I think so. It's not something I would actually say, well to their faces.

My coworker Allison comes up to me as I swipe a card to finish paying my current table's bill.

" Hey Y/N? I just wanted to let you know I just sat three at table ten. The reservation is for Wayne." She said before patting my shoulder.

I smile, " Yeah okay, thanks Ally."

I go back and hand the receipt and card to my leaving table and head towards table ten. Three gorgeous looking men sit, chatting and laughing like they're not at a five star restaurant but at a diner by a public highschool. Weird beautiful men, but alright. I pull out my spiral notepad, pen in my right hand, ready for them to order.

" Hello there! You must be the Wayne reservation. I am your waitress this evening. My name is Y/N. Are gentlemen ready to order drinks?" I make sure to sweeten my words.

The three men stop talking. One with the shorr, but longer dark hair speaks, " Yes we are. We also know what we would like to order as well."

The man with the red hair and the man dawning the short black hair with a white streak also agree with the other gentleman. I jotted down the orders. I collect their menus and walk over to put in the orders so they get sent to the kitchen.

Once they finished eating, I walked over with the receipt and the card that belonged to the charming man with the long hair. I bid the men good day, leaving with the signed copy receipt. I opened the book to see the receipt and three sets of tips. Two were around a hundred in cash tips. The other was. What the hell? Five hundred dollars in cash?? The entire meal cost less than that! I stare blankly at the money before grabbing it out to place it in my wallet I use for my personal tips of the day.

Fuck it, I take it back. Only some rich people are douchebags. I finish my things up and head out to the back side of the building for a short smoke break before I take my lunch. I pull out my unopened cigarette pack from my bag and hit the bottom of the pack before unwrapping it. I grab out my FUCK OFF labeled lighter from the side pocket. I light it and take a long inhale of smoke.

" Got a light?" A voice asks.

I exhale and nod, " Yeah." And hand my lighter over, still not looking over.

He laughs, " Thanks, sweetheart. Did you like the tip? Thought you deserved more since you had to deal with my brother Dick and our friend Roy. They can be… Loud."

That's when I looked over like a deer in headlights, " Uh.. Ooh that was you? And yeah, thank you for the tip. But you do realize the entire check was less than that right? I'm not complaining, just curious."

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth before taking a bit to talk, " Yeah, I know that, darling. But I like spoiling hard-working people. Money is money. I also know that this place gets more money than they pay their waiters and waitresses. I know that most of you survive with tips."

"Oh." I manage out.

I can't but stare at the sincere look on his face. His absolutely hot face. God I need to get a fucking grip. He finishes his cigarette and hands me back my lighter. I put the rest of my own cancer stick out as well before shoving my shit back into my bag.

His hands are in his pocket as he smiles at me.

"My name is Jason, by the way, sweetheart. What's yours?" His right hand extends towards me.

I take his hand to shake, " It's Y/N."

We shake hands but before I can pull away he already turned mine over and plants a light kiss on it. I just stared like a god damned weirdo so unsure of what was going on. Letting my hand go he shoves his own back into his pocket.

"Have a good night Y/N." And he walks away.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me? My face is hot and I rush back inside to grab my lunch. I sit in the back of the locker room slash break room. Recounting the events only worsens my reddened face. I shovel my chicken caesar salad trying to refocus myself. Spoiler alert, that didn't fucking work. I look at the clock on the wall. An hour and I'm out of here. I can just forget pretty boy and move on. He's definitely just a flirt. Get over it Y/N.

Even when I got home, I can confidently say I didn't forget Jason. In actuality, all I did was think about him. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x reader

[holocene-sims]

simblr new years resolutions 2024!

thank you @stargazer-sims so much for tagging me!! ❤️✨🌟

not sure who has done this one yet but i'll tag 💌 @seyvia @simmersofia @mangosimoothie @minty-plumbob @queeniecook @dandylion240 @mmmatchasims @thebramblewood @aheathen-conceivably @nectar-cellar @igglemouse & anyone who sees this and wants to do it!

honestly, i have never made a new years resolution in my life, so this is a fun exercise to try out for once!

what's your resolution for your simblr?

this is VERYYYYY ambitious but i want to fully complete the core "everything the stars promised" and move on to doing side content and MOST IMPORTANTLY the more loosey goosey fun epilogue :)

april 15th of this year will mark the second anniversary of the story! i've done so much and yet at the same time, so little in the grand scheme of the plot i have in mind. i randomly checked today to see how many pages on my blog the story takes up and we're at 31 pages! so, uh, about 15 pages a year - not sure if that's good progress or not but oh well! we are getting close to the extra exciting parts of the story, and i would love to finish it all up this year, you know? finish on a nice round even anniversary number and with a bunch of plot point bangers lolol

but we'll see! it's possible, maybe, since i'm graduating college this semester and will have more free time for a while, at least i as figure out the work situation and probably even while working whenever i do get a job since nightly homework will no longer exist LMAO, but even if it's not possible, i am definitely promising myself to work harder on the story! i really do love this thing despite it all and i'm proud of it, and i want to see how much i can keep improving it so that the ending is truly the best part <3

what do you want from the sims franchise?

a sale on kits lmfaoooo!!! (which will never happen) i have exactly 5 dollars left over from an old gift card someone gave me for ea app when it was still origin. it's exactly enough for a kit except that sales tax adds on 7 cents and the gift card leftovers don't cover that.

yeahhhh...i'm neither charging 7 cents for sales tax nor 5 bucks for a second kit to my credit card. no, ma'am. i want that shit for FREE

any other new years resolutions?

don't become incredibly depressed by the shock of leaving the school system after almost 23 years of life and the horrors of figuring out the whole...life and career...thing

lol this resolution will be broken

so, how about an achievable one? read more books and write more actual prose, whether for my sims story or for something else. i've been so burnt out from academia that it's all stopped being fun. like even my sims story has been such a drag to create because i just have zero desire to write, to work on the outline, or find inspiration.

and that really sucks. writing and reading have been a huge part of my life for so long and they mean a lot to me, but right now they do feel exhausting. i'm tired of looking at a word document and wanting to bash my head into the keyboard because it reminds me of writing project proposals and boring shit instead of good fiction.

but i'm hoping the freedom from academia will spark joy in my literary hobbies again, and i'm going to try and bring back my love for them myself :) not sure how but aside from finding a way to work on the sims story more, i'm thinking maybe i'll commit to trying out more short-form writing prompts.

#tag games #in my hobby revival era

[chubsonthemoon]

Binderary 2023 Wrap-Up!

Binderary 2023 is over, and I come bearing some stats, thoughts, and a compiled list of my QOTD answers! :3

Stats:

Books planned: 7

Books completed: 7/7 (woohoo!)

Fandoms: 3 (Yuri on Ice, Harry Potter, and The Sandman)

Total word count: 340,654

List of books (from left to right):

Maybe sprout wings by @moorishflower

Flower King by @landwriter

The Politeness of Princes by @aboxthecolourofheartache

Uncertain Results (also by Box!)

I'm caught inside every open eye (also also by Box :3)

Not pictured (on account of them being given away as gifts!):

My Immortal by Tara Gilesbie (aka xxxbloodyrists666xxx) (community typeset by @renegadepublishing)

Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by @kazliin (typesetting by @ziezie13 <3)

QOTD answers under the cut (and these are copied directly from our DW post, just with added tumblr @'s!)

1. What does Renegade mean to you?

Renegade has, in all honesty, probably changed the course of my life! That's not hyperbole--it's had such a huge influence on my hobbies, my friendships, my academic trajectory, even my career. I was still in undergrad when I found ASH's post on fanbinding, and I was very lost as to what the next steps would be. And like so many others experienced, the pandemic only made things even murkier and more isolating. Then I found ASH's manifesto in June 2020, worked up the courage to join the Discord in July 2020, and found a community of like-minded weirdos who were just as passionate (if not even more so!) about their favorite stories, and a craft that I fall a little bit more in love with every day (well, most days. fuckin printers man XD). I wrote my honors thesis thanks to Renegade; I've made lifelong friends thanks to Renegade; I have my current job, in a field I love, thanks to Renegade. (My first Rocky Horror Picture show at Havencon 2022? All thanks to Renegade :D) This really feels like my forever fandom home-- even when I jump around from fandom to fandom, there's always a wonderful and supportive community to fall back on. In short, I really love it here, I'm so pleased with what we've done so far, and I can't wait to see where we go! ❤️

2. Favorite Fic

As everyone else who answered this, this question is IMPOSSIBLE. However, if you put a gun to my head and told me to answer right now, I'd have to say Tell Me About the Big Bang (my binding of it here!) It's one of the fics that has touched me most deeply and which has probably had the greatest influence on my writing. It was one of the first fics I'd ever bound, and I really wanted to rebind it to see how far I've come!

3. One thing you'd like to learn more about

GOD SO MANY THINGS. Backing! Headband techniques. Chisel trimming. Edge gilding. Tiny books. More advanced Cricut techniques. More cohesive and professional-looking graphic design. This hobby is really a dozen hobbies in a trench coat, and there's so much to explore.

4. Paper!

For my textblocks, I use 20 lb. cream Hammermill paper! I order it in 11"x 17" and get it cut in half for short grain, like a lot of other folks at Renegade. Recently I've started experimenting with quarto-sized Legal (8.5"x 14")and fell in love. I also want to try a bunch of the other paper that folks have suggested (looking at @robins-egg-bindery Mohawk Via o.o). For my endpapers, I usually use scrapbook paper from those scrapbook paper packs you can get at Michaels and Joann's (and when they're on sale...WOOF)

5. Cloth!

DUO BOOKCLOTH MY BELOVED. God I wish I'd gotten in on the Renegade group order - but ah well. Big fan of making my own though! There are just so many options to choose from, so it really expands what you can do (again: a dozen hobbies and crafts in a trench coat)

6. The Glue War

LOVE me some PVA! I know that it gives you less time to do things, but I get impatient XD. Plus it's cheap and easy to find and ready to use right out of the bottle, which is great. I've tried my hand at making starch paste + PVA with very mixed (ha!) results, although I had a wonderful time with some methyl cell that @simply-sithel gifted me at Havencon last year <3 So mayhaps will have to buy more of that for a future project!

I also love my Cricut Explore 2, Charlotte! She holds up very well, although I think she's due for a blade refill soon. I've just been setting my pressure higher and higher LOL

7. Machines

Love my Epson ecotank! I recently bought it--for the first two years I was going to my local print shop because the quality was great and I had a discount card. Unfortunately the discount card eventually expired, so I decided to bite the bullet and get my own printer. I really love it! I didn't want to have to deal with laser and printing in color can get pricey--the cartridges are just so goddamn expensive, although I do think laser prints in higher quality. Mayhaps a future purchase, because I'd really like to experiment with foiling!

8. Favorite binding technique

Ooh this one is interesting! I know which part of the process I enjoy the most, which is sewing! Kettle stitch my beloved. ALTHOUGH I am a sucker for the French link too--it's just so pretty! And we just had a wonderful workshop put on last week by @queercore-curriculum on their...embroidered binding/long-stitch binding (??? I don't know if there's an official name for it yet), which I LOVE. Glueless bindings are SO cool and I would love to experiment more with them.

9. Your best tip/trick

Ooh! Hmmm...I'd say: never bind while you're super tired/hungry LOL. I've made many a preventable mistake very late at night because I wanted to get something cased in or glued before bed when I probably should've waited till morning XD That being said, on the flip side I think you should never be afraid to experiment! Go hog wild!!! Use those glitter pens!! Try out that fancy silk for your endbands!! Try that new binding style! And if you fuck up, remember that's okay too! These are handmade objects and those mistakes are proud proof of that, and of your journey as a fanbinder. Stick 'em in the channel on the Discord, laugh and (maybe cry a little XD) about it, and then keep going. tldr; ya live and learn!

10. Favorite Detail

Ooh, this one's hard! I love leaving little Easter eggs in my designs. I'd say my favorite is putting my maker's mark on things! My imprint is Moonham Press (a fun mix of my usernames, chubsthehamster and chubsonthemoon), and the logo includes a little crescent moon. I'd actually been binding for about two years when I finally made the imprint--I used to think that it was...idk, kind of weird to put myself in the book? Like I was taking away from the story inside it. But then I got to thinking--well, hey, I'm the one who made this book, right? If nothing else, putting my mark on it tells someone who may pick it up one day that I was connected to this story. Some conversations with some folks at Renegade during Havencon 2022 also helped me embrace this. So these days I put my imprint logo in the typesetting, and I also put it on the cover somewhere! My favorite spots are either on the spine, between the title and author name, or on the back cover, in the bottom left corner :D

11. Spines

Spines are the bane of my existence. Haha, jk. They're mostly just tedious, since they're one of the only parts of the process that still require precise measurement (I've cut templates for everything else by now, and I use my guillotine to cut boards, so that goes super fast). For my thicker books I use Bristol board; I actually still use the same sheets I bought in 2020 when I first started binding--I didn't know how much I would really need so I think I ordered four massive sheets which will probably last me for ten years LOL. For my thinner books, I use Davy board, which is a pain to cut but gives the book a really nice board feel. And for my paperbacks, the spine is just the cover, which I make out of kraft paper for the backing + the decorative paper (usually scrapbook paper or something I've designed and printed)

12. Mistakes/Fails

Ooh BOY are there many. My most recent was my experiment with making a hardback quarto letter. I made the hinge waaaaay too small so when I tested the case the textblock was sticking out of it LOL. But I've been pretty lucky--this is only the second case I've had to remake in my time as fanbinder *KNOCKS ON WOOD*, but my printer fuck-ups when I was trying to figure out how to print on legal sized paper (since my printer doesn't duplex) probably make up for the luck I've had in the case department XD. Casing in, though--I think I've had maaaaaybe...two or three case-ins where I was completely happy with the results. A large part of this is because my guillotine doesn't cut completely straight, so my squares are never even LOL. But hey, I'm not getting paid for this, and I'm having fun, so eh.

13. Process

Ooh, interesting! My process has remained largely unchanged--I think the only thing that has really changed is now the frequency at which I print. I used to print at a print shop, so I'd make typesets in large batches--usually two to four books, sometimes more (I think the most I've done at a time is five?), and I'd make a day out of it. Now that I have my printer at home though, I can do things in smaller batches! I can also test print things, so I've been able to get a lot more experimental with my books sizes and my covers. Everything else has remained largely the same--the first book I did I typeset in MS Word, but everything after that I've all done in Affinity Publisher. I typeset > print > bind > take pictures! I really like how different each step is (like I said, twelve different hobbies in a trench coat), so there's always something different to do if I get bored. My favorite parts are probably designing covers and sewing the signatures!

14. Storage solutions

OUGH. I have one of those rollaway drawer thingies for all my tools, a dozen scrapbook paper containers, several large baskets for my vinyl and cloth, a hanging stand for my larger sheets of decorative paper, a standing desk which holds my Cricut and printer (a few of the aforementioned vinyl baskets are under this desk too), another rollaway basket thingy that holds my printing paper and my press (also under the standing desk), another desk which holds both my two guillotines and cutting mats (and under that desk are all my scrapbook paper containers and Cricut mats), and a final third desk where I keep all my sewing stuff and where I do my typesetting and other sitting-down parts of the process. And of course my shelves for all my books! This doesn't really give a sense of where everything is, but it's actually fairly organized, and for the most part I know where everything is (except for my FUCKING bone folder god that thing is always ending up in places I do not remember putting it XD)

15. Your Workspace

Ah, see my answer to 14! I'll probably upload a photo here later XD

16. Dust jackets and covers

Oooh, I've never made a dust jacket before--I don't think my printer could handle the wonky paper size that it requires, but they look really cool and I'd maybe be up for making one someday! And covers! Both my greatest love and my greatest enemy. They're super fun to design, but this is one part of the process that always feels like an uphill battle for me! There are so many skilled and talented folks in Renegade with GORGEOUS covers, and it's always a mix of being incredibly inspired and getting some design envy--but either way it's very motivating to keep me out of my comfort zone and to always keep trying new things. I use decorative paper and scrapbook paper mostly for the base material (although I've begun experimenting with designing things digitally and printing them out on Epson matte presentation paper), and then the rest is fuck it, we ball. I usually design the cover last, so I have an entire typeset and title page already when I begin, which makes things a little easier since I have an already established aesthetic to work with. My font selection is kind of determined by how small the text for the title/author name is, since my Cricut isn't great at cutting super small sizes (Times New Roman, funnily enough, is one of the only fonts that it can do at smaller sizes LOL so a lot of the text on my covers/spines are in TNR). I'm excited to keep improving and experimenting in this area!

17. Published inspiration

Ooh!! This one's fun--when I first began making my Master pages in Affinity publisher, I literally grabbed the first few books I saw on my shelf and said 'alright, this looks good' and haven't looked back since LOL. Those books were Vintage's editions of Toni Morrison's novels, Picador's Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, Vintage's edition of Willa Cather's The Song of the Lark, Fall River's omnibus editions of Shakespeare and Sherlock Holmes's works, Penguin Classic's Deluxe edition of Jane Austen's novels, and a few others that I can't remember. I looked at all these books, found what they had in common (for example, a simple title page before the decorative title page, the use of a single graphic or design at the beginning of each chapter, etc.) and went with that! I don't usually take inspiration from specific books, EXCEPT for a project I'm currently working on which I'm super excited about :3 More TK here eheh (ADDITION 3/7: I was talking about Maybe sprout wings here LOL)

18. Illustrations

FANART MY BELOVED. I LOVE including fanart in my books, because it's such a lovely demonstration of the communal nature of these stories and it's so fun getting to collect all the pieces. For free use graphics my favorite sites are Adobe Stock images and Heritage Library. Heritage in particular has a beautiful selection of free vintage graphics packs that I've used for years now. And very occasionally, wingdings fonts will have something I really like XD

19. Favorite tool

Despite my gripes earlier about always misplacing it, I ADORE my bone folder. It's a funky lil dude and it makes all my edges nice and crisp! I can't wait for the retreat bone folder fufu :3 Also a very big fan of my guillotine, which despite its flaws makes my life a hell of a lot easier in the long run, as well as my presses, which were handmade by my dad and do their jobs very well (squiiiiiiish)

20. Favorite part of the binding process

Oooh, this one's fun! I really like the actual construction of the book--sewing sigs is always relaxing and has been one of my fave parts since the very beginning. Recently I've started to really enjoy designing covers, especially if there are a lot of physical elements (like layering scrapbook paper or playing around with Mod Podge).

I had the absolute privilege to hold @clovenhoofbindery's copy of Away Childish Things at Havencon last year. Literally every book Space makes I fall in love with, and her designs are a HUGE inspiration for me. Everything from the typesetting to cover design to physical construction--I lose my marbles every time.

21. Inspo: The binder that inspired you!

Ohhh this one's so hard! Literally every time I check the #show-off channel in the Discord I'm struck by so many beautiful books. I'm going to cheat and name a few people here, but this list is by no means comprehensive and doesn't even begin to cover everyone I could name.

Everything @pleasantboatpress binds is just so beautiful. Their color choices are always inspired and their headbands make me want to cry! Their bind of Unconditional in particular had me foaming at the mouth.

The quality of everything @zhalfirin-binds makes, likewise, always blows me away. Her books are so polished and professional, and her photos make me feel like I'm in a museum when I'm trawling her blog for inspo!

@simply-sithel's tiny books are literally the coolest things ever! I'm still working my way through the Binderary vids and I can't wait to get to hers. Six plays with form in mind-bending and truly innovative ways, and her blog is wonderland of tiny and fantastical book creatures.

@teleportbooks's binds are the definition of classy and refined. They're so good at designing their books according to the contents of the fic--their binding of Thirty-Three Lashes in particular is just the best design centered around fic content and title I've seen. Their designs always make me melt a little when I see them!

@no-name-publishing's endbands are to DIE for. Like fr I am in awe every time!!! And Kam's cover + title page designs are a huge source of inspo for me--forever in love with this bind of theirs, with the beautiful painted cover + matching endpapers T_T

And of course!!! I (and everyone else) wouldn't be here without our beloved leader, @armoredsuperheavy. He's the first binder that ever inspired me, and he continues to do so today!

22. Inspo: The fic that inspired you!

My original answer was also my answer for 27 ("First bind"), but I'm gonna say something a little different here! I usually know pretty quickly whether I'm interested in binding something, but very rarely has a fic gotten me hook, line, and sinker the way @that-banhus's King of Infinite Space did. Like, from the first line I was like "oh god I need to hold this one." And eventually I did! :3

23. Author spotlight: Someone you've bound

AHHHHHH this one is so hard too! I've bound a good number of authors over the years, many of whom are my dear friends, and to spotlight only a single one would be impossible. So I'm just going to poke @dodici12, whose killugon fic See You Upside Down is one of the best killugon reunion fics ever in my very humble hamster opinion. Hiiiii Tessa ilysm <333

24. Author spotlight: Someone you'd like to bind

OOOOOH. Many, many fics are in my queue. I'll keep them to myself for now, since I prefer to ask for author permission via DM, but atm I have my eye on a few Good Omens authors whose work I adore!

25. Favorite bind by you!

THIS ONE IS SO HARD AJLSKDJF. I love all my babies so much and I'm proud of what I was able to accomplish and what I learned from each of them. However, if you put a gun to my head and asked me to choose right now, I'd have to go with my most recent bind of Maybe sprout wings by @moorishflower. I'm really pleased with both its construction and particularly the curation of its contents, which includes the work of nearly a dozen people. It was my attempt at capturing the communal nature of fanfiction's creation and dispersal, and it was also my Big Project this Binderary. I'm ridiculously fond and proud of it!

26. Favorite bind by someone else!

THIS ONE IS SO HARD TOO HELP. Okay this is only one of my many many favorites, but dragging Space back out here again to say that her bind of Away Childish Things permanently altered my brain chemistry. Like, the cutout!!! The patronuses!!!! The title page cutout???? THE KEY??? Again, I held this book in my hands IN PERSON last year and I'm still not over it. The quality of the work is absolutely bonkers crazy incredible and I think about it Often.

27. First bind

The very first fic I ever bound was On Stranger Tides by @theroyalsavage. It's still one of my favorite fics ever today--it has the perfect blend of action/adventure, romance, humor, and fantasy. It gives me the good ol' "roaming the high seas with found family and magic and pirates" ache. It holds a very special place in my heart!

FINAL THOUGHTS

28. Latest bind

See 22! But for funsises, I'm also ridiculously fond of the binding before that, of @aboxthecolourofheartache's fic The Politeness of Princes, because I got to do lots of fun arts and crafty things with the cover!

This was my first year doing Binderary, and I had such a blast! It's so crazy seeing how far Renegade has come, from a little Discord for book shop chatting (ASH mentioned in one of the talks how it was just called, like, "Bookbinding Discord" at the beginning LOL) to now. We're well on our way to a proper organizational structure, with several yearly events, in-person meetups, and thousands of members all over the world. And we have so much more planned! It feels truly special, and I'm so grateful to everyone who makes this possible.

Okay!! That's all from me for today, folks. If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! <3

#binderary2023 #fanbinding #bookbinding #ficbinding

[cha-melodius]

Getting ready to publish a new fic, so I'm just gonna yeet some slightly older WIP stuff from the last time I worked on the YGM AU and run away. Thanks for the tags @sherryvalli, @kiwiana-writes, @adreamareads for teaser Tuesday and @orchidscript for tagging me in a last line game; this does contain the last line I wrote on this WIP.

Alex is still tidying up after closing when Nora comes in, slings her bag into one of the chairs at the front, and sets up in front of the shop’s computer. In the two weeks since the Mountchristen announcement she’s been almost obsessively running the shop’s sales numbers, so much so that Alex had to tell her he wasn’t going to pay her any more than her usual number of hours. It hasn’t stopped her. When he’d tried to joke that he didn’t realize how much the shop meant to her, she’d given him a weird look like he was missing something obvious. It’s not like she needs the job; she only really does it to help him out while she’s working on her PhD, and yeah she’s bi but she’s doesn’t do much reading that’s not boring academic papers about statistics. He leaves her to her numbers and continues his usual routine, straightening stacks books and restocking gaps in the shelves. There’s something almost meditative about it, and as he works he lets his mind wander, as it usually does these days, to H and what he might say in his next email. He’s got a lot on his mind these days, and it’s harder and harder not to say fuck it and tell H all about his business woes. Surely they know each other well enough at this point. Every time he just about convinces himself, though, he pulls back.  Eventually he grabs a stack of books he’s collected—all copies of the titles that Henry had purchased earlier today, because the man seemed like he had good taste in books and Alex could use ideas on new things to feature in the front window—and wanders over to the front counter, where the staccato rhythm of computer keys is strangely absent.

tagging those who might want to share OR who might just want to read haha @welcometololaland, @rmd-writes, @celeritas2997, @cricketnationrise, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @14carrotghoul, @clottedcreamfudge, @indomitable-love, @stutteringpeach, @iboatedhere, @nontoxic-writes, @lilythesilly, @leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells

#wip wednesday #rwrb #firstprince #false dichotomy #my wips

[thebibliosphere]

Hi Joy!

I hope this doesn't come across as rude/overstepping, and it's possible you have answered this question before (i cannot find such an ask though, gotta love tumblr). But I was hoping you would be able to give some advice/explain your journey, on how a chronically-ill person looking to become a published authour, and sustain themselves on it, would go about it? From what i've seen on your blog so far, it seems like most indie authours make a pittance for their work (when it's worth so much more), and i'm curious how you're able to make it work without having a second job to supplement income? As you probably well know, it will be extremely hard to have energy to write if one is also chronically ill and having to work full time to live... i'm lucky enough to have some universal healthcare (canada), but that is about it. Also if you prefer not to publicly answer this, please feel free to message me instead! Though also feel free not answer at all, of course- i don't want to put you out. Thank you for all your advice and encouragement for your fans and followers over the years, you really are a joy!

I've posted about it before, goodness knows where it might be in my tags, but the only reason I'm able to work full time as a writer is threefold:

The generosity and support of my patrons on Patreon/Ko-fi/Payhip.

My spouse works full time.

The income I now get from my books.

If I lost any of those three things, I wouldn't be able to write full time, and even then I still take occasional editing gigs to make ends meet.

The truth is, there are very few authors who can make writing their full-time gig—at least not their fiction writing. Many authors have "day" jobs and write on top of that. I've been extraordinarily lucky in that my book sales have been enough to let me scale back my other work, but like I said, I don't make a sustainable living from it.

I'm just no longer financially sinking, which is what was happening for the 5 years in the run up to Phangs being published. Things have stabilized. They've stabilized at rock bottom, but even rock bottom can offer stability when you've been in free fall for almost a decade.

I'm sorry I can't give you more helpful advice, but this is the best known "secret" of the industry. Many authors have day jobs you'll never hear about because it's not associated with their author name.

Unless you manage to get a big book deal—and even then, trad-publishing doesn't pay remotely anywhere near as much as it did unless you're already a big name-- then you will probably be sustaining your work through some other means. I did it for years with editing and then when my blog took off, through Patreon and editing. It's only been a very new development in my life where I've been able to give up editing full-time to write my own stuff instead.

Sorry. I wish there was a secret, but there's not.

#indie author stuff

[hersweetrevenge]

corey cunningham headcanons [volume one]

i have an (over)abundance of time to think about corey, he plagues my mind 24/7, so i'm inflicting a sprinkling of those thoughts onto all of you. based on this list of questions for character development.

topics include: drinks order, grooming routine, money and purchases, scars, how often he cries, siblings, shoes, sleeping habits and favourite holiday.

WARNING for some general angst, as well as mild mentions of smut, child abuse or otherwise problematic parental behaviour and alcohol consumption.

[images via @/slashericons and @/shitedits]

drinks order

corey's not a big coffee drinker, he usually finds it too bitter, even with milk and sugar. he's happy to "go for coffee" with someone though, he'll just get a hot chocolate or a frappe with a lot of syrup.

he doesn't drink alcohol that often, joan never really drank in the house except for special occasions and she limits ronald to a few beers at most after dinner. as a result, corey is a bit of a lightweight, but when he does drink he always goes for a beer. he hasn't quite developed a taste for harder liquor yet, but vodka is a safe bet because he can mix it with pretty much anything and doesn't have to taste it. he likes the idea of whiskey (the most manly of liquors) but the first time he tried it, the burn made his eyes water.

grooming routine

joan was meticulous about his cleanliness in childhood. he had a bath every night before bed and joan made sure he never had dirt under his nails or behind his ears.

pre-accident corey has taken to showering rather than bathing. he showers every evening and shaves every other day. his facial hair is light/reddish so he can go a few days before it's really obvious he has stubble, but he likes being clean shaven.

he uses 3 in 1 soap for body/hair/face, and yet somehow has the most gorgeous hair in the whole world and (mostly) okay skin. he still gets spots/pimples but he got through his teenage acne stage pretty much unscathed. he doesn't do any skincare. he has a bottle of lotion (on his bedside...) but he doesn't use it often unless he has really dry skin on his elbows or knuckles. it's store-brand unscented. and as a teenage boy in the 2010s, he used an excessive amount of axe body spray. now he has a more grown-up aftershave, but he doesn't use it all the time.

post-accident corey doesn't fair so well. for months after the trial he barely gets out of bed unless joan nags him enough, dragging him on errands or calling him downstairs at meal times. he'd shower when joan forced him to, and shaves maybe once a week.

once he gets a job at the call centre, he has to keep up appearances a little bit again. he showers every day (or other day, if he's not feeling up to it), doesn't mind stubble so much anymore so shaves every 3 - 4 days. when he gets a job at the scrap yard, he's more diligent about showering every day (does not want to go to bed still covered in garage grime.

corey's not a hugely hairy guy anyway, so he doesn't really do anything with his body hair. when he still had hope for getting past second base, he might of trimmed and "manscaped" a bit, but after a three year dry spell, he knows he'd just be kidding himself.

most expensive purchase and disposable income

he doesn't spend a lot of money. he doesn't have a lot of things. the cunningham-prevos are working class, he's used to not having a lot of disposable income to spend, especially before joan married ronald and she was a single mom for the majority of corey's childhood. joan doesn't make him pay rent or contribute to bills so most of his wages go into his savings (saving for what, he doesn't know anymore), and what little he does spend is on snacks and food from the gas station. now and then he'll see a yard sale while cycling home and might stop to look through some books - he has a shelf of tatty sci-fi paperbacks at home - but a few cents here and there barely makes a dent in his pocket.

he did buy his own phone though, as an upgrade from the abysmal off-brand smartphone joan begrudgingly bought him at 18. his phone is probably the most expensive thing he's ever bought, and even then its far from being the latest, most expensive model on the market. he doesn't even pay his own phone bill, seeing as he's on the family plan.

scars

corey doesn't really have any scars, pre-accident. he never really got hurt much as a kid, not with joan watching him like a hawk, but her jurisdiction did not extend to the school playground (luckily for him), where he got his fair share of grazed knees. no lasting scars though.

working at the scrapyard is rough in his hands, though. he hides it well from joan, but he gets little cuts on his fingers and around his cuticles from working. they heal up fine, but he can still see each silvery knick and wears them proudly. they're the proof of his skills, of what he can fix with his own hands.

the cut on his hand from the broken glass eventually leaves a thick scar on his palm. it would of healed more cleanly had he not ripped the stitches so badly and let it get infected. he ends up not being able to feel anything properly in the scar tissue, able to dig his nails into it when he clenches a fist without feeling a thing.

how often does he cry?

pretty often. not always over something specific, he's just an emotional person. as a baby he was (perhaps surprisingly) content, not fussy at all - a fact joan was exceedingly proud of. she'd look at other mothers out in public who just "couldn't control" their children, whose babies wailed and cried. then she'd look down at corey and be reassured of how excellent of a mother she was, with her perfectly happy, chubby-cheeked baby. but that didn't last and as he got older, it become clear he struggled outside of the home and he got overwhelmed a lot. joan said he was just a sensitive boy, was happy to coddle him if it meant he'd stay being a momma's boy, even when other parents would have been worried about his emotional development. he cried every day for the first month of kindergarten. he cried in the locker room at school after a fight he was in when he was 13. he'd cry at night after arguing with joan over whether he could go to college and whether or not she'd fill in his financial aid applications.

after the accident, he was in such a bad state of shock that he didn't cry at all. during questioning, when he was having to repeat himself over and over, he cried out of frustration because it was just an accident, he swears it was just an accident, but it feels like no one believes him and he just wants to go home. then, with the trial, he focused exclusively on that, no time to feel anything at all other than the anxiety that churned his stomach. once he got aquitted, that's when it really happens. he has a huge nervous breakdown, spends the whole night crying to joan while she holds him. it takes weeks for things to get better and there's a lot of crying and borderline catatonia.

he doesn't really cry over much after that. usually it's silly things that set him off, and it sort of surprises him that he can even do it anymore. sometimes he cried when he went to the allen house, or up to the radio station, but not always.

oldest, middle, youngest or only child?

only child. of course. joan only needed one object for her affections, just one person she could shape into loving her and only her unconditionally.

sometimes i wonder if corey was the result of a baby trap; joan having a baby so wally would have to stay and love her and provide for them, until it got to a point where she couldn't care less if wally stayed or not. once she realised corey could be a much better fit for her obsessions, of course.

corey thinks about what it'd be like if he had any siblings (and who knows, maybe he does if wally was unlucky enough to get someone else pregnant after he left haddonfield). mostly he sees other kids with siblings and wishes he had someone he could be close to, someone who would be in his corner against joan.

shoes

pre-accident corey has two pairs of trainers and a pair of "nice" shoes he wore for graduation. he's never been a fashion person, wouldn't even know where to start, but he at least chose his trainers himself, even if joan was with him and vetting his choices over his shoulder.

post-accident corey has one pair of trainers (he threw out the ones he was wearing the night of the accident), those same "nice" shoes (worn to graduation and to court) and his work boots. mostly the only places he goes is from home to work and back again, so he's more often than not got his work boots on. they're well worn and well stained with dust and grime.

sleep

corey's naturally a night owl. for a long time, he had a really (really) early bedtime and joan would stay in his room until he fell asleep. it made him wake up early but he'd go back to sleep and then it was difficult for him to get up again at the proper time. but once she stopped watching him sleep, as a reflex corey started staying up late, which made his trouble getting to sleep at all even worse. he has even more trouble getting up in the morning.

he sleeps with two pillows and a duvet. he has a blanket for winter but he usually runs so hot he doesn't need it. he also has a much older blanket he always keeps at the foot of the bed that he's had since he was a kid. it's a bit ratty now, but it makes him feel a little bit better when he's in one of his moods. he has two sets of sheets that joan has on a two-week laundry rotation.

after the accident, his sleep pattern is obliterated. he finds it even more difficult to get to sleep because his thoughts are constantly racing. he wakes up crying from nightmares pretty much every night, so upset he wakes joan and she comes running. he hates relying on her so much, but having her there does help him go back to sleep. it takes months for him to start sleeping through the night again (or as close to that as he's ever been capable of). eventually he starts doing what he did when he was younger, where he'd wake up in the early morning, but instead of going back to sleep, he'd sneak out to either the allen house or the radio station, depending on how much hope he current possessed about the future.

as previously mentioned, he is not a morning person. he often sleeps in later than he means to, falling back to sleep after turning his alarm off. he's late for work at least twice a month but usually more. ronald's on his back about it, but after a scolding he usually let's it slide. if it's not sleeping in that makes him late, it's joan's subtle acts of sabotage that keep him from getting out the door on time.

favourite holiday

corey doesn't really care about holidays too much. joan's neurotic need to control every single aspect of every single holiday means he's used to just sort of coasting through, doing whatever it takes to make her happy (or at least placate her for the day).

if he had to pick a favourite, he doesn't mind thanksgiving. it's less pressure than christmas, where the prospect of giving and receiving gifts fills corey with a special sort of dread. for a long time it was just him and joan for thanksgiving anyway, he doesn't have any other family, so there isn't the stress of having guests over. it's actually sort of nice, they have dinner and joan bakes a pie. her cooking is still pretty terrible, but corey's willing to overlook that fact in order to keep the peace. they eat dinner and watch TV, some of his best memories with joan are where they just sit and watch TV. plus, corey has his "what he's thankful for" speech perfected, "i'm thankful that you're my mom, and that you take care of me and love me." joan eats that shit right up.

his birthday became his least favourite holiday for a while. it's torturous having to sit through joan's affections, which she ramps up tenfold for the occasion, and he rarely gets what he really wants in terms of presents. anything he wants is watered down for joan's approval. corey hasn't had a birthday party since he was five years old, but joan still makes a show of getting him a cake and lighting the candles after dinner. the effort to keep joan sweet and show enough appreciation for her giving birth to him is enough to fry his nerves for the whole day.

halloween soon takes the number one spot though. you can't really have a worse holiday than the anniversary of the time a child died in front of you.

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #none of these are important but these questions scratched an itch in my brain and really got me thinking #plus some of this ive been trying to find an excuse to talk about lol

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

'If activists are hiding books from you, the best thing you can do is seek them out and read them!'

One of the strangest developments of the culture war has been the rise of authoritarian librarians. It sounds ridiculous doesn't it? Surely librarians are there to support education and to enable the dissemination of literature and knowledge.

But this week it was reported that the library service in Calderdale Council has been hiding books by feminists such as Helen Joyce and Kathleen Stock. The Labor-run council confirmed that although these books would still be in the catalog and they could be requested, they were quote, "not visible on the library shelves." This is very odd.

Now, I've read the books in question by both Helen Joyce and Kathleen Stock, and they are rigorous, intelligent and important studies concerning one of the key issues of our time. And yet these librarians are treating them as though they are toxic, as if members of the public who happen upon them while browsing might somehow be instantly corrupted.

And yet we shouldn't really be surprised at all. The rise of Woke Librarians, however ludicrous that sounds, is a real thing. Now, I should say from the outset that I've nothing against librarians. Some of my best friends are librarians. But there is something about the profession that seems to attract the kind of paternalistic pharisee who believes that it's their job to protect others from wrongthink.

Let me give you some other examples. So a few years ago, it was reported that the former poet laureate Ted Hughes was included on a watch list created by the British Library because of a family connection with a slave owner. Turns out the connection was false and the Library issued an apology. But why was the foremost library in the UK creating this kind of watch list in the first place? Well, it was because in the wake of the killing of George Floyd, the library had commissioned what they called a "decolonizing working group" which decided that they should review the collections and draw up a list of any authors with problematic pasts. This same group also claimed that the library's main building was a monument to imperialism, because it looked a bit like a battleship. I'm not even joking.

And in 2021 the Waterloo Region District School Board in Canada identified and removed books that were considered quote, "harmful to staff and students."

At the same time, other school libraries in Canada were disposing of copies of Harper Lee's novel To Kill a Mockingbird and Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale following complaints about quote, "racist, homophobic or misogynistic language and themes."

And then there was the Ottawa Carlton District School Board which removed copies of William Golding's Lord of the Flies on the grounds that the themes of the book were quote, "outdated and too focused on white male power structures." Had they even read the book? If Lord of the Flies really is a comment on white male power structures, it can hardly be said to be an advertisement.

And then of course there's the whole trigger warning phenomenon. When archivists at Homerton College in Cambridge were engaged in a project to upload their collection of children's literature to the internet, they decided to flag a number of books with trigger warnings. Books such as Little House on the Prairie, and The Water Babies, and various books by Dr Seuss. And the archivists said they wanted to make their digital collection quote, "less harmful in the context of a canonical literary heritage that is shaped by, and continues a history of, oppression."

But books by Dr Seuss aren't oppressive or harmful, even if they do contain outdated racial stereotypes. They were written a long time ago, and readers understand that. Of course, that hasn't stopped the estate of Dr Seuss from withdrawing a number of titles from sale altogether. You can't even buy them anymore.

But the most revealing aspect of this story from Cambridge is a statement that the archivists at Homerton College put out. They said it would be a quote, "dereliction of our duty as gatekeepers to allow such casual racism to go unchecked." Gatekeepers. Now I thought they were meant to be custodians not gatekeepers.

And this is what is known as saying the quiet part out loud. Because really all of this behavior is edging towards censorship. For librarians and archivists to apply warnings to books or to hide them from the public, it's for them to say, "we don't think these books are good for you, we don't trust you to read these books and not to pick up some bad ideas, we must protect you from their influence." In other words, they're treating the public like a parent treats a small child.

And we shouldn't stand for it. Even the application of trigger warnings is a problem in and of itself. True, the books aren't being censored, but a trigger warning buys into the false belief that words and violence are the same thing. It implies that these books are dangerous, and in the wrong hands could cause trouble.

And it's not just libraries. Increasingly we're seeing museum staff attempting to protect the public from artifacts that they're meant to display. So last November, the Wellcome Collection in London shut down its key exhibit, one which dated from the 17th century, because it perpetuated quote, "a version of medical history that is based on racist, sexist and ableist theories and language."

Now we all know that ethical standards change over time and that people from the past held different views from us. Often views that we would consider objectionable. So why don't museum curators understand this too? Why is a museum preventing us from seeing artifacts from the past, when they should be facilitating access? Why is it that so many art galleries now insist on adding little labels next to paintings by great masters to say how much they disapprove of their values, as though the writers of these little sermons would have thought any differently if they had been born hundreds of years ago?

I don't care whether you disapprove of Hogarth's attitudes towards minorities, I just want to appreciate his work without having these soft-witted puritans breathing down my neck.

What we're seeing here is ideological capture. it's the same reason why the Catholic Church created an index of forbidden books which it had kept updated for 400 years right up until 1948. it's the same reason why Mary Whitehouse wanted certain TV shows banned back in the 1960s. It's the same reason why the BBC has censored scenes of old comedy shows such as Faulty Towers on the BBC streaming service. It's the same reason why staff at publishing houses revolt when there's a new book coming out by Jordan Peterson or JK Rowling or some other problematic author. And when the authors aren't as well known as Peterson or Rowling, the staff often get their way.

And if you don't think any of this is authoritarian, what about the time when the body in charge of elementary and secondary schools in Southwestern Ontario authorized the ritualistic burning of books if they contained outdated stereotypes, in what they described as a "flame purification ceremony." Almost 5000 books, including copies of Tintin and Asterix, were removed from shelves and were destroyed or recycled because of course, only the most [rogressive people in history have ever burned books.

[ Source: The Times, via archive.today ]

It sounds preposterous, but the proliferation of activists in libraries, museums, schools, publishing houses, the arts and the media, makes complete sense when one considers that the devotees of this new woke religion have a vested interest in controlling the limits of acceptable thought. To use their own words, they are the gatekeepers.

But as adults in a civilized and liberal society, we don't need to be coddled, particularly by people whose capacity for critical thinking has been stunted by ideology. They say it's for our own good, but what tyrant in history hasn't made a similar claim?

So enough with the woke librarians. If activists are hiding books from you, the very best thing you can do is seek those books out and read them. These petty little authoritarians will do anything to control your speech and your thoughts. Don't let them get away with it.

==

We are reliably informed that it's only right-wing conservative Xians who want to ban or burn books. But it isn't true. There is a mirror image of the same Puritan authoritarianism on the woke left.

#Free Speech Nation #Andrew Doyle #librarians #libraries #public libraries #queer theory #gender ideology #censorship #woke librarians #woke activism #woke #wokeness #wokeism #wokeness as religion #cult of woke #authoritarianism #woke authoritarianism #gatekeepers #for your own good #paternalism #ideological capture #ideological takeover #book burning #flame purification ceremony #religion is a mental illness

[innytoes]

3 Sentence prompts: Willexie + Thrift Shopping!

Just because they were kind of famous now, didn't mean Reggie wanted to give up on his favourite hobby. Listen, he'd gotten his most iconic outfit from the thrift store. Okay, it had been pretty much his only outfit for a while. But it had clearly worked, because Sunset Curve was topping the charts now and everyone thought he was really cool.

Another bonus to having one iconic outfit was he could just ditch the leather jacket and flannel for the day and be basically incognito. Not that a lot of old people at estate sales knew who he was, but he'd been recognised at a bunch of garage sales and it just felt wrong to try and haggle with someone who really just wanted his autograph.

"Tell me again why you dragged me out of bed at five in the morning to drive down to Pasadena to look at... old junk?" Alex whined, sipping on the giant coffee Reggie had gotten him along the way. He was dressed in one of Reggie's flannels, which honestly was kind of a little treat in and of itself. Reggie himself had stolen one of Bobby's shirts and Alex' denim jacket.

"Because it's fun?" Reggie asked. Alex did not look convinced. "Because we can get cool stuff for the house?" he tried again.

"We can get cool stuff for the house at literally every store we want now," Alex pointed out. Which was true, they had Money now. Of course their co-dependent asses still went and bought a house together like they always said they would. It was just... slightly closer to a mansion than the shitty apartments they'd been thinking of when they were seventeen and broke. "Luke and Bobby spent a couple of grand on a new sound system."

"It's not about the money," Reggie pouted. "It's about the thrill of the chase. It's about treasure hunting! It's about finding unique pieces nobody else has!"

Alex stared at him, unamused, obnoxiously slurping his coffee.

"Fine, you're here because you love me and because I need your big sexy muscles to help lift stuff into the truck if we find anything." He was hoping to find a cool coffee table, or a desk, and they could still use a nice dresser.

"Fine," Alex said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But if I find something cute, you're doing the haggling for me."

"Deal."

The morning went pretty well. They found some cool lamps, and a couple of nice hardcover science fiction books Reggie thought would look very mature and adult on their shelf. Reggie managed to haggle down on a really mature looking desk that would look great in their 'We're Real Adults Now' house, and Alex did use his sexy muscles to help get it onto the truck.

After a quick early lunch in town, they went to the next estate sale. They agreed to split up, since it was later in the day and they needed to be fast before all the good stuff was snapped up.

Except when Reggie rounded the corner, he saw Alex wasn't looking for a nice dresser or pretty trinkets. Alex was talking to a very hot, very cool guy in a crop top.

Reggie narrowed his eyes, going over. Alex beamed. "Hey babe!"

"Why are you flirting with the enemy?" Reggie hissed.

Alex groaned. "Not this again."

"Hey, Reggie," Willie beamed. "Great job on nabbing that desk at the Gilmore estate, I had my eye on that too. But you got here a little late. Do you want to see the heirloom patchwork blanket I scored? And I found this really cool dresser I'm going to paint..."

Reggie squinted at their rival, annoyed. He wanted a cool dresser. And the patchwork blanket folded over his arm looked really nice.

"I'm sure it will look really cool," he said, trying to keep the sulk out of his voice. He gave Alex another glare.

Alex just stared at him. "Maybe I was distracting Willie so you could be the first to notice those vintage comic books in the corner," he said, and Reggie gasped, running off and rifling through the box before Willie could get there.

"Aw man, low blow, Hotdog!" Willie complained.

"Yeah, I'm evil like that," Alex deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the two of them.

In the end, Reggie came away with some Spiderman and Hawkeye comics that were still missing from his collection, and a cute little side table they could paint a pretty pink for Alex. As they were finishing up and loading everything in the truck at the end of the day, Willie moseyed back over.

"Howdy," he said, tipping a cowboy hat Reggie had completely missed. He felt a stab of jealousy, not just for missing it but also because Willie looked unfairly hot like that. Then, Willie plopped the hat on Reggie's head. "We still on for dinner?"

"The burger place?" Reggie asked, leaning over to press a kiss to Willie's cheek.

Alex popped out of the truck. "Oh so now it's okay to flirt?" he asked, grumpy.

"Of course it is, Alex, it's four thirty," Reggie said, propping the cowboy hat on Alex' head. He did not look as sexy as Willie had, but he did look kind of cute. They should go on a horseback riding date, all three of them, sometime soon. He'd bring it up over dinner.

"Yeah, Hotdog, we're only mortal thrifting enemies between six and four," Willie agreed.

"You two are so weird," Alex complained, but he still climbed down to sit in the bed of the truck to receive kisses from both his boyfriends. And over dinner, he smiled indulgently as his two thrift-nerdy boyfriends compared notes and showed off pictures of the treasures they'd found.

#julie and the phantoms #reggiexalexxwillie #fanfic #I wrote a thing #AUs are awesome #willie is a reseller who also like fixes stuff up and refurbishes it #he probably has like a blog or something as well #reggie just really likes thrifting #alex is there to look pretty and keep Reggie from bringing home any taxidermy (so Bobby won't disown them) #and use his big sexy drummer muscles to help lift stuff #and to roll his eyes at both his boyfriends and their silly rivalry #lbr the sunset curve house is a mess between Luke refusing to give up his ancient couch #reggie's thrifting and Bobby's 'I'm going to buy designer furniture because I'm rich now fuck you' #meanwhile Alex just wants somewhere to sit that is comfortable and doesn't have bedbugs #poor guy probably went to like Ikea in self-defence

[madaboutmunson]

Never Too Much

Just a little something that wormed its way into my head, because I just love the whole Steddie having an extra love language of music thing Word count: 3.7K

After rehab and graduating, Eddie decides to take a "break".

He gets a job at a garage not far from his new home. It's something he enjoys doing, and even though it is desperately hard work and takes its toll on his body, it's a space for Eddie to feel competent.

There are two issues with the garage.

Firstly, he has to have a work persona. It's not difficult, just like at school. Be a little tougher, pretend not to hear jokes he doesn't find funny, and do not tell anyone about his boyfriend, Steve. He's his roommate, and he has a fake college girlfriend to fill in anytime he wants to talk about Steve romantically.

Secondly was the music during opening hours or when he wasn't working alone. He had invested in a Walkman and headphones, but after the third one got crushed, he gave up. Eddie frequently tried to get one of his preferred bands in the tape deck or even an alternative radio station because metal was taking off in a big way. Maybe not the heavier, thrash, or wizard metal he enjoyed most, but it was still good. Everyone at work, except for the few hair metal guys, said that Eddie's choice of music made the customers less patient, and people wouldn't hang around the cars for sale in the lot for as long because of the music.

Eddie thought it was horseshit, but he only needed this job for a little while longer. It was just to cover the bills whilst Steve was studying, and when Steve got a job, Eddie would pursue whatever it would be he wanted to study…that bit he hadn't figured out yet, which is why he went out and got this job the very next day after they discussed it. 

There would have been no way Steve would not have wanted to be the breadwinner if Eddie had let him choose.

Truly the absolute worst situation was to be on the day shift with his boss. Not only did he have to be customer-facing because his boss was the laziest motherfucker the universe had ever created, but also he had to endure whatever music he wanted to listen to, primarily genres Eddie wouldn't touch with a telegraph pole. Worse still, the radio station he liked most must have its own version of a set list because when Eddie heard a song, he could often predict the next.

Freshly showered and already in his comfy sweatpants and threadbare t-shirt, Eddie towel dries his hair roughly as he glances at his copy of this week's shifts, "Goddammit!" He seethes through his teeth, groans and throws himself back dramatically over the arm of the sofa so that he lands face up in Steve's lap, who just manages to lift his textbook up in time to escape Eddie's damp tendrils of hair. He's getting much better at dodging these mishaps after living with one another for so long.

"Well, now that's just great. I'm gonna look like I peed myself," Steve laughs.

"You're still going out?" Eddie pouts, and his eyebrows push together as he tries to make the most endearingly sad face possible up at Steve. Using all his power to attempt to penetrate the book with sheer will.

"It's just a talk, Honey. I'll be gone for two hours if that." Steve says distantly, turning the page before putting his hand to Eddie's chest, which is quickly grappled by Eddie's hands, teamed with a super over-the-top dramatic sigh, making Steve laugh.

"Alright, alright", Steve concedes defeat, bookmarking and closing his book to look down at Eddie, "What's going on?"

Eddie grabs Steve's other hand and puts it on his forehead.

"Your hair is still wet!" Steve chuckles, but Eddie just pouts more. Steve sighs and strokes his hair anyway.

"How long do I have?" Eddie asks with his eyes closed.

"10 minutes, Honey," Steve says gently.

Eddie does a full sit-up and repeats in horror, "10 fucking minutes??!!!" Then, he screws up his face and flops back down, "You don't understand. It's for the whole week!"

"It would have been fifteen, but now I have to change my pants. And I know, Honey. I know it's gonna be absolute hell for you this week." Steve soothes.

"It is, it really, absolutely is." Eddie joins in poutily with his eyes closed 

"And I am so grateful you go through all of that so we can live in our own place, and I can study." Steve smiles at Eddie and rubs a circle with his thumb on his forehead.

Eddie's smile gets more prominent, "It is pretty good of me, isn't it?" he says proudly with his eyes still closed.

Steve rolls his eyes with a laugh, "Look, I know the guy is basically irredeemable, but the music might not be all bad if you give it a chance. Then at least that's a problem halved."

"I guess" Eddie frowns a little.

"And you know Robin's having a party at the weekend too. That's gonna be great. Finally, a party I won't have to sneakily hold your hand under a table at!" Steve says excitedly.

Eddie beams up at him, "It is worth enduring karaoke to be able to do that, I guess." Eddie sighs happily. "Babe, I'm gonna kiss you so many times at that party. Even Robin's most flamboyant friends are gonna be upset by it."

"You're aiming to upset everyone at the party?" Steve laughs.

"It's not my aim, Babe. It's just collateral damage," Eddie grins up at Steve, finally opening his eyes again.

"You could make it up to them with a song? They all loved your voice last time. Even when you were trying to ruin the song, you still sounded good." Steve is laughing so much that it's shaking Eddie out of his relaxed mode.

"Babe, please, no. They never have songs I like at these things. I can just happily sit and cheer for everyone else." Eddie whines.

Steve laughs louder, "You know the rules, Honey. Everyone has to."

Eddie pretends to sob into his hands.

"You've gotten used to some of the things I like to listen to, right? You can do it, Honey," Steve says encouragingly.

"Yeah, but you're cute, at least", Eddie complains.

"Eddie Munson, if there ever comes a day when you think someone at your work is cute, you quit that job immediately, come home, lock all the doors and windows, call me, pack our bags, and we'll move to the other side of the country, ok?" Steve says in a severe tone.

Eddie starts giggling, and Steve amplifies it with a few rib tickles.

"Alright! Alright! I'll do it!" Eddie shouts, and Steve ceases his tickle attack. Eddie stands up and flexes his sinewy arms. "I'll be the man of the house."

Steve bursts out laughing, Eddie's eyes flash, and his mouth is open in pretend shock, "How very dare you, Steven." He folds his arms and turns away, occasionally half looking back at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes and gets up to embrace Eddie from behind, giving him a kiss on the back of his head, "You can be the man of anything you want, as long as you're only mine", Steve says gently.

"Well, I guess I might find that agreeable", Eddie says with a smile he can't contain and quickly turns around to kiss Steve, only to be interrupted by the beeping of Steve's watch.

"Sorry, Honey, I gotta go." Steve says, running to change, grabbing his coat and giving Eddie a big loud smacker of a kiss goodbye, "Maybe you'll find a new song this week that you find bearable, and you can sing it at the party. A twofer." 

So the next day at work, Eddie tries. Whenever he can hear the radio, he tries to listen. He could find something in one song.

He goes most of the day without anything piquing his interest. Until he hears one song, and it's a lyric that hooks him first "The boss is so demanding."

It starts small.

Singing the funky guitar parts. Tapping his fingers on whatever he's leaning on to the beat. 

By the second day, Eddie knows the chorus by heart.

Then he starts to enjoy trying to match the singer's musical runs that tingled his brain just right, and they were so much fun to try. He does this randomly throughout the day, whether the song is playing or not, jump-scaring a few colleagues when he just randomly bursts into one.

Sliding into different areas of the garage, and making sure to abruptly stop as the singer says the word 'stop'.

By the third day, Eddie is listening to all the lyrics. They just remind him of Steve. Now the song means something, and he looks forward to hearing it because he's daydreaming about their past, present and future when he hears it.

Eddie's voice is good, but it's not as good as the singer of this song. It makes Eddie sing in so many different ways he never has before, higher, softer, expanding his range.

Though it is the week from hell, Eddie has this song to cling to. He listens for the artist and song title and commits it to memory as he learns a new part of the song, singing into his wrench, much to the amusement of his colleagues and customers walking by.

The end of the week arrives, and even with these little oases of happiness, it has been a grind, and he's glad to see the back of it, but now he's free.

He can't get home fast enough, he has his secret surprise song to sing at the party, and he knows Steve will love it.

"Hey, slow down. We've got ages to get there, Honey." Steve laughs, looking flawless in his new suit and perfectly coiffed hair. He puts his hands on his hips, smiling and shaking his head, "I thought you were dreading this."

"I was!" Eddie replies, mouth full of toothpaste mid-brush, half-dressed in his jeans and boots but still bare-chested. Toothpaste was treacherous. He swills out his mouth and continues, "but I took the advice of the little hottie I was talking to the other day."

For a moment, Steve's eyes flicker with worry until Eddie walks towards him whilst putting on his iron maiden t-shirt, "and then they fucking left me for some dusty old lecturer. Can you believe it?" Eddie sighs dramatically. "So smart and so very, very hot", he adds, undoing the top two buttons of Steve's shirt. Eddie smiles lovingly at Steve and gives him a peck on the lips.

"So you have a song then?" Steve asks with excited curiosity.

"Maybe…" Eddie teases, "Now hurry up, so I can make a whole room of people jealous of me for having the best-looking partner in the place."

Robin and Steve open the proceedings with a song from Grease. With as much of the dancing from the movie as either can remember, to the joy of everyone there.

The music, Eddie, wasn't interested in, but seeing Steve have so much fun with his best friend made Eddie feel all the more closer to him. He really was, underneath all that old King Steve bullshit, a loveable massive dork.

Eddie does precisely what he said he would and kisses Steve as many times as he can, much to Steve's amusement and Robin's repulsion, until his name gets called, and a mic is thrust into his hands. Eddie finds the song he wants in the booklet, and the woman who owns the machine finds it for him.

Eddie looks around the room, and most people were many drinks in, so that took a little pressure off. He'd sung many times in his band, and he still does, but this was different. Smaller crowds, especially people he kind of knew, still made him nervous. So he focuses on the guy he's singing it for and forgets everyone else.

I can't fool myself, I don't want nobody else to ever love me

You are my shinin' star, my guiding light, my love fantasy

There's not a minute, hour, day or night that I don't love you

You're at the top of my list 'cause I'm always thinkin' of you

Steve's expression reads like it's not a song he knows exceptionally well, as his head tilts at Eddie.

I still remember in the days when I was scared to touch you

How I spent my day dreamin' plannin' how to say I love you

You must have known that I had feelings deep enough to swim in

That's when you opened up your heart and you told me to come in

Steve listens to the words, and a big smile spreads across his face, and he starts to dance.

Oh, my love

A thousand kisses from you is never too much

Steve's hand goes to his mouth in surprise. He's never heard Eddie sing like that.

I just don't wanna stop

Oh, my love

A million days in your arms is never too much

I just don't wanna stop

Too much, never too much

Eddie makes it to the end of the song and nods a small thank you at the applause he receives, but it's when he hears Steve yell out, "THAT'S MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND!!" from on top of a chair, and Eddie's heart just swells with pride and love. 

Steve is punching the air like Eddie got a winning touchdown or something. It almost makes Eddie blush as he smiles a massive closed-mouth bashful smile, his dimples deeply puncturing his cheeks.

Before Eddie can help him down, Steve jumps from the chair, landing in front of him, and puts his hands on either side of Eddie's face, his eyes swimming with adoration, "That was…." Steve opens his mouth to finish the sentence, but nothing comes out. His tear-brimmed eyes move between Eddie's.

Eddie doesn't want to move or say a thing. He just wants to drink this in. He didn't know if anyone was looking, and he didn't care. All he knew was he wanted to remember this moment forever. To tuck it away with all the other precious moments he held so tightly, cataloguing their history together. 

Eddie wasn't sure if he would amount to anything. He wasn't sure if he had the big career dreams Steve had. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do when it was his turn to choose. All he knew was he'd be chasing this look of awe from Steve for the rest of his life. Nothing had ever hit quite like this. It made him feel like the most extraordinary man that ever lived.

"You're incredible." Steve finally manages. Usually, Eddie would absolutely play into this and agree wholeheartedly, but this time he coyly looks at the floor.

"No-no-no-no", Steve says quickly, using his hands to tilt Eddie's head back up, "I want those beautiful eyes on me."

Eddie looks back up at him, and Steve pulls him closer for a tender kiss. As they part, Steve releases Eddie and stretches and yawns, "You know, I think the day has caught up with me all of a sudden…we should probably head back, right?" Steve tries to say with a serious face, but the corners of his eyes betray him entirely.

"Right." Eddie agrees, simply reaching for Steve's hand and intertwining their fingers.

They make the round of goodbyes and head out. Sadly Eddie let go of Steve's hand for the thankfully short walk between the building and the car. Once inside, Eddie grabs it again and starts the car up.

"I hope you're prepared for the amount of private serenading you'll have to do of that song now, Honey," Steve says as they drive back home.

"Private?" Eddie scoffs, "The way you looked at me in there…shit… I'm just gonna sing it whenever and wherever I can." He laughs.

And he does. For weeks, he waits for the most inappropriate moments.

At one of Steve's work functions or family parties as Steve's "wingman" or roommate, he'd lean over and sing a little, quietly, in a whisper, or bring the song up in conversation with other people within earshot of Steve. 

In the grocery store when Steve is reaching for something high up, at the mall when Steve is trying to talk to a sales assistant, all around their little house, occasionally calling Steve from work when the boss wasn't in to hold up the phone to the song playing over the speakers when Steve was studying at home.

But eventually, against his own nature, Eddie eases off because he's worried the effect will wear out if he does it too much, so he stops for a while.

At dinner one night, it's unusually quiet. Steve wasn't telling Eddie about his day or with a snippet of gossip he heard like he usually does when they sit down to eat. Eddie scans over Steve. He's tense, prodding at his food, looks worried, puts down his forkful of spaghetti, dabs his mouth with a napkin and goes to get up without a word.

"Babe?" Eddie says curiously at first and then slightly in a more panicked tone, "Babe?! What's wrong? You ok??" He follows Steve from the table towards the bathroom, but the door closes in his face.

Eddie stands there for a moment, totally confused. He wracks his brain. Had he forgotten an important day? No. Impossible. He specifically got those Garfield stickers to put all over the calendar so he wouldn't forget.

Had he not picked up on something Steve had said? It was possible, but he had been trying really hard with his attention and focus, and that was usually never a problem when Steve was talking.

He knocks on the door, "Babe, I don't want to say I'm sorry and not know what it's for, but I had no intention of upsetting you. Can you talk to me? So my dumbass can figure out what's happening, please?" He asks softly and calmly.

He hears a sniffle from the other side of the door, and it breaks his heart, and he immediately tries the door, but it's locked.

"Eddie, you don't have to pretend anymore. It's ok," Steve's voice croaks out, slightly muffled, accompanied by another sniffle.

"What? Babe, I'm really confused here, please." He tries to keep his voice calm, but the panic starts to set in, and Eddie is trying his best not to lose it entirely and take this door off its hinges.

"Look, you did your best ok, I know. I saw how hard you tried, Eddie. Everyday. It's just not what you'd thought it would be right…I'm not what you'd thought I'd be."

"No-no-no-no-no. This is not happening. This is not happening," Eddie whispers angrily to himself.

He takes a deep breath and falsely toughens up a little to get Steve to listen, "First of all, in this house, I'm Honey, not Eddie. Secondly, you're right, this and you are not what I thought. It's better, so much better than I could have possibly imagined. Thirdly, I'm not pretending. I love you, Babe. I'm just confused about what I've done to make you feel that way. I swear on Lemmy, I never wanted to make you feel that way or ever want to. I swear!" His authoritative tone falls into almost pleading.

"Then how come you don't sing to me anymore?" Steve manages through his little sharp intake of breath.

Eddie rolls his head in relief and exhales, "I just thought you'd get bored of it if I did that all the time. Or it would lose its magic. That's all."

"Are you crazy?" Steve replies.

"Er…yeah..like you didn't know that," Eddie says, a lot happier on the other side of the door.

Eddie starts singing the song but decides it's not enough. He presses himself up against the door and presses his mouth to the wood as he sings, reverberating through it as he taps the beat out on the door frame.

He doesn't realise how forcefully he's pressed up against it until he falls through it into Steve as he opens the door.

Eddie captures Steve's face and kisses all the tears away, in between still singing, and that look in Steve's eyes comes back, and Eddie is elated.

"There you are" Eddie's eyes move between Steve's, "Don't do that again, ok? Just say whatever is going on with that fantastic brain of yours. Don't hide from me. Ever again! Promise?"

"It's just everyone before just…eventually…you know…they give up because I'm not... So I figured this was your time to throw in the towel." Steve struggles to articulate what he wants to say.

Eddie squeezes Steve's face almost a little too much, making his lips look like that of a goldfish. "If you ever doubt for a second how much I am absolutely, fucking insanely besotted with you, Know this about me compared to all the people you dated before." Eddie stands up straight, "I am a crazy motherfucker..and!...I'm stubborn as all hell. So for me to leave you, they would have to drag me, kicking, punching, screaming, kung-fu-ing and possibly biting away from you, ok? And even then, you know I'd claw my way back because I'm a tough son of a bitch too. I am going nowhere. Not unless you, Steve Harrington, ask me to."  

They stare at one another for a second, and Eddie lets go of Steve's face with a, "Sorry, I got carried away there for a second."

"You mean all of that?" Steve says with a half smile on his tear-stained face.

Eddie puts his hands on his hips in a very Steve-type stance, "Yes! A million times, yes. Why would I say it otherwise?" 

"Because you feel sorry for me?" Steve looks down at the floor.

"Honestly, I'm just not kind enough to spare someone's feelings. I say what I think. Maybe that's wrong sometimes, but it's who I am." Eddie says with a laugh.

"Yeah, sometimes it's wrong," Steve says, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeves. Eddie smiles broadly as Steve moves closer, taking Eddie's hands and putting them around his waist. Then he tucks some of Eddie's hair behind his ear, "Because you should sing to me whenever you want to, and also, in this house, I'm not Steve Harrington, I'm Babe", and he seals his royal decree with a kiss.

If you need/want to hear this song its this:

#steddie #steddie fan fiction #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steveharrington #eddiemunson #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff

[alder-saan]

The Path of Poisons .4

Asphodel

Larissa Weems x gn! OC

The Path of Poisons masterlist . [01] . [02] . [03] . [04] . [05] . [06] . [07] . [08] . [09]

words count: ~1.8k

WARNING: I'm translating this from French to English. As it takes sooooo much time to do it myself, I use an automatic translator. BUT neutral doesn't exist in French so even if I proofread to change every "he/him/his" or "she/her/hers" in "they/them/their" I might miss some.

"Ugh, shit!"

"Well, I'm glad to see you too, Rei."

Rei looked up from their phone. Thalia was in front of them. This time she was wearing green overalls and a flowered shirt, with a braided straw hat to hide the snakes in her hair. The Weathervane was their usual meeting place, now that the summer holidays had begun. They met several times a week in the mornings to catch up on old times. After all, it had been almost five years since they had seen each other. Rei had dyed her hair red. A dark red, rather, so that the colour would look natural. He was wearing a cream shirt and brown trousers.

"Sorry, Thalia. It's my editor who says he can't edit my book at the moment, I still have to work on it. Except I'm going to start running out of money, you know? I was counting on the sales of this book to bail me out."

"Well, you know, there are ways around that."

"Like what?"

"A botany teaching job just opened up at Nevermore. And you're more than qualified."

Rei took a sip of their coffee.

"In botany, maybe. Not in teaching."

"Think about it, even if it's only temporary, it might make your situation a little more secure."

"I don't know if I really want to…"

see Larissa Weems again.

"to teach a bunch of insolent kids."

"They're very nice, for the most part. Besides, I can teach you a lesson if you like. We've got all holiday for that. Oh, I'll have a lie-down, please," she said, calling out to the waiter."

"Listen, it's nice of you, really, but I'd rather ask the florist if she doesn't want to hire me for a few months."

"As you wish. But know that if you change your mind, I can always plead your case to Mrs. Weems. She's very understanding, you'll see."

"I'm sure she is."

Their tone seemed a little dry. Thalia frowned.

"Hey, Rei. Just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to be that nasty."

"Excuse me, this whole thing is getting on my nerves," they sighed.

"Well, do you have any plans for this morning?"

"I'm going to go to the florist."

"Oh, by the way! I found an old photo album of Nevermore from the years you were there but I don't see you… Wait a minute."

She rummaged in her huge backpack, pulling out various things: an umbrella, tissues, a water bottle, a jumper, another hat… and then the photo book. Rei took it and opened it. They searched for a few moments before pointing to a picture of a darker-skinned girl with disheveled black hair, wearing a uniform that was half-stained and torn in some places.

"Oh. My. God. Is that really you?"

"Haha, yeah, no wonder you don't recognize me. I don't think anyone would guess it's me."

"But you've had surgery?"

"Not at all, and that's the crazy part, I just changed a lot."

"Now that you mention it… But it looks like you've changed your ethnicity. In this picture, you say you are a Cree, I believe you. But today, your white-passing spoils everything."

"Yes, I don't know why it did that," they laughed, "miscegenation sometimes has strange results."

They turned a few pages and found themselves better combed, but still wearing the same shabby uniform. Next to them was Larissa Weems, with her arms wrapped around them, as if to cuddle them.

"Oh! That's Larissa! She's changed very little, though. Well, she has, a little, but you can tell. You look close in this photo."

Well, it's… It was probably time for that talk. In any case, Rei couldn't hide their past with Larissa forever. They leaned their back on the backrest, crossed their arms and legs, and looked outside, staring blankly.

"To tell you the truth, we were. But we didn't leave each other on very good terms. I'd even say it was on very bad terms."

"Oh, really? Why would you say that?"

"I don't want to tell you. Thirty years have passed, Larissa Weems then and Larissa Weems now are not the same person. What she did is in the past now. I hope she wouldn't do the same thing today."

Thalia had a pout on her face that meant "I'm worried about you… and I like gossip, too"

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure. Especially as she's your boss, I don't want to put her life on display in front of you. And to be honest, she's the reason I don't want to be a teacher there. I don't want to see her again."

"But still, at the hospital…"

"She was sleeping. And then you know my curiosity. I wanted to see how much she had changed, physically at least. Please don't tell her I'm back. Don't tell her it was me. I think she'd be uncomfortable, too."

Rei laughed nervously.

"To be honest, I don't know if I would have moved back if I'd known she was there. Anyway, now that I have, I'm not going to move again just for her."

Speaking of the devil…

Rei turned pale. Mrs. Weems had just passed the window and was heading towards the entrance. They motioned to Thalia to put the open book away, and pretended to drink their coffee peacefully. Their friend did not understand such a reaction, she had not seen Larissa, as her back was to the entrance. Mrs Weems went first to the counter to order and then saw her colleague

"Oh, hello Mrs Kedlan!"

Thalia understood.

"Hello Mrs. Weems, this is my friend, who I think I've already told you about."

"Raine Asphodelus, nice to meet you," Rei agreed, standing up and holding out her hand to the tall woman.

"Likewise, Larissa Weems," she replied, shaking their hand.

They had agreed with their friend and former colleague Raine Asphodelus, author of The Book of Plants and Legends, to impersonate each other if the situation called for it. It was Raine who started it by impersonating Rei to the brother of one of their exes who came to beat them up.

"I wanted to thank you personally for buying me these flowers. It was very kind of you."

"It's nothing, I hope you like shrubby everlastings. These flowers are not to everyone's taste."

"I especially liked the symbolism."

The principal smiles. Shit. Larissa had become so beautiful. And then her eyes… Her eyes. It just brought back all the feelings they'd had for her in the past. Her outfit fit her so well, as if it had been made just for her, a very light blue that only enhanced the blue of her eyes. 'Pull yourself together, Rei,' they thought, swallowing their saliva.

"Dearest, are you all right? You don't look fine…"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just a bit lost here, I haven't been here long."

"Oh, when did you arrive?"

"The night you were attacked, I think. That's terrible, you were very lucky to get away…"

The waiter gave Mrs Weems her order.

"Very lucky that Avareïda Hydrurga had the idea of writing a book on poisoned plants I'd have to contact her again, by the way and have a student who had read it find me. I'll leave you now, I have to tell the police about my attack. I only came to get a coffee to go. Have a nice day. Oh, Thalia, I'll be calling a meeting for Mrs Thornhill's replacement soon, so I'll email you a schedule so you can all vote on what time works best for you."

"No problem, Larissa. Have a good day."

"Have a good day too."

The woman left. Rei fell back in the seat.

"FUCK."

"That's clever, I'll have to call you Raine now," Thalia said sarcastically

"You can keep calling me Rei and it won't be a problem."

They slumped on the table, one cheek against the wood, both arms on the seat.

"Why does she have to be THAT beautiful?"

"Wouldn't you like to give her another chance? I mean, professionally speaking… I'm telling you, she's a really good person. She helped me a lot when I was having problems with my family. And then she didn't recognise you!"

"I'll think about it… But if I accept, it's under the name of Raine Asphodelus. I really don't want her to know it's me."

Larissa was walking back to Nevermore, a little confused. Raine, huh? There was something about them she liked. Their eyes, maybe. She parked her car and got out. She liked this stranger. Maybe she was going to ask Thalia for their contact… She wanted to have fun, to get to know someone. Her near-death experience had opened her eyes. She didn't want to end her life alone. She wanted to find someone. She went upstairs to her office and walked to a door next to the fireplace. On the other side was the room she slept in during the week. She looked in the mirror. She had grown old. She should have done something about it before. Besides, most people her age were either already with someone or didn't want anyone. She felt ridiculous. Not attractive enough. Too old. She felt like she was waking up after a battle.

And then she remembered Ava.

Ava wore what she liked, even if her clothes had holes in them. Ava was strong. Ava didn't care what others thought. And that was why she liked her. She wanted to be like her. She walked out of her room and out of her office. It was strange, the empty corridors. Every major holiday she felt a little empty. But she still had work to do. She had to look at all the admission files for the next year. So there was no time to daydream.

______________________________________

The romance officially begins!

#larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #larissa #principal larissa weems #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems

[goldenpinof]

Wait what’s the situation with Oxford and Cambridge? I know the dates had to be moved because they were outside of term time for the unis there so no point doing it when there were no students but… isn’t that Dan’s teams fault?? Not the promoters?? Im not sure how it works so please explain to me because surely there’s a bit of collective responsibility there. Like multiple, interconnecting failures have occurred over the course of the tour

considering how small Dan's team was (3 managers that actually could make decisions, but also had other clients as well (correct me if i'm wrong though!)) i'm almost sure booking was on promoters. also because they were the ones who suggested moving the shows to February and "they've decided to do this" in the beginning of September. even if Dan's managers were involved in making calls (reaching out to the venues) and signing papers, etc., etc, it's kinda promoter's job to look at the list of dates and think about how you as a promoter are gonna handle each show for them to sell out. and if you see that something isn't adding up (September and uni terms) you have to stop this at the stage of development and NOT after everything is already approved, printed, and went to sales, and after people started complaining. it's not Dan's job to look at the calendar and think what months are better for what shows. he is paying others to do that. anyways.

my main problem was the time it was told and how it was told. Dan told us about it on Sept 4th, in a liveshow. the Oxford show was initially booked for Sept 13th, Cambridge for Sept 22th. so 8-9 days to change your plans, basically. it got worse though. people had to wait for official emails for another 2 days, and those emails didn't even have the text written correctly ("the show has been rescheduled to Saturday 11th 2023" Saturday 11th of what, bro?). and i'm 99% sure it's not AXS providing texts for the emails they send. so it's either the promoter (AEG) or Dan's managers were taking so long and still fucked up. and i'd bet on promoters, otherwise why are they even getting paid? there's a chain of people these things should go through to be approved and posted/sent. and promoters are 100% involved in these approvals. but for some reason there's always something done wrong in communication and in marketing. the promoter communicates with people (us) and makes decisions related to the shows, we saw that clearly during the Auckland show. so they are very much responsible for rescheduled and therefore booked shows. and for cancelled shows. i'm not saying Dan's managers were innocent during the tour, far from it. but why would Dan need promoters if his managers could do the job? bruh.

#corrections are welcome #answered #wad.oxford #wad.cambridge