#but looking at it now it feels like a lot of teens flock to these films as like . baby’s first horror movie because they can relate to the

[mahkari]

it’s a curse that back in 2018 , when i was super into IT , the perception surrounding it was that the cast was super duper hot and you had to find them very dateable and be overtly parasocial and now it’s 2023 and i watched the black phone and i am noticing the exact same thing , though on a smaller scale . will there ever be a point where a movie or series that stars teenagers will be perceived as anything more than ‘rough and tough ( and so handsome ) boys’ . lord i hope so

#kari rambles #a curse …. #i don’t wanna tear anyone down cuz back in the IT days i was like that to an extent ( called JDG my boyfriend online and at school LOL ) #but looking at it now it feels like a lot of teens flock to these films as like . baby’s first horror movie because they can relate to the #age range of the characters or they just wish they were an 80’s kid all ST style . #i don’t know . it has a particular feel if you’ve ever been in either fandom

[luminnara]

Bikini Body | Billy Hargrove x Reader PT 1

Warnings: body image stuff and some vague bullying

Part 2! (Nsfw👀)

I’m open for requests! Just send an ask!

Tags: @smenny @infinitelyforgotten @littlewinter1917

The community pool in Hawkins was a usual summer hangout spot. Everyone from middle aged parents to their bratty kids to teens and young adults tended to flock there on especially hot Indiana summer days, and today, you had begrudgingly agreed to join your friends for an afternoon in the sun.

It really wasn’t your idea of a good time. It wasn’t that you hated swimming or tanning or even just enjoying the heat, it was more that…well, the public pool was pretty public, and you…kind of weren’t.

“Are you really wearing that?” One of your friends asked, sounding exasperated as she stretched out on a chair.

“…yes. Why?” You asked, knowing exactly why.

She glanced at you before rolling her eyes and putting her shades on. “You’re seriously going to pass out if you wear that much clothing.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” you mumbled, looking down at your shorts. They were baggy and reached your mid thigh, loose enough to leave absolutely everything to the imagination.

“I don’t get why you want to cover up so much,” another one of your friends said as she flipped onto her stomach to tan her back. “I mean, the cutest lifeguard in the state works here, and I know damn well I want him to look…”

Everyone sighed in agreement and all at once, their heads swiveled to look at the lifeguard in question. You looked, too, and what you saw was Billy Hargrove, the local bad boy heartthrob, standing in the sun like he knew what a golden glow it gave him. He was always full of himself, preening like a bird, working all of his best angles while he flirted with the hot girls (and moms) at the pool.

Too bad you didn’t really count as either of those.

“Seriously, do you ever wear anything besides that big baggy shirt?” One of your friends scoffed as she laid back against her chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything else.”

“Didn’t we agree that you were going to wear a bikini for once?” Another asked.

You shrugged and looked away. “Didn’t really feel like it. That’s all.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and then looked towards the others. “So, Cindy, you catch Steve Harrington at Starcourt? He’s selling ice cream now…”

And that was your cue to zone out. You liked your friends, you really did, but ever since graduation and the start of summer, they’d started putting a lot more emphasis on the pool and bikinis. You actually did put yours on, and had almost convinced yourself to take the plunge and wear it out in public…but then, at the last minute before Cindy swung by to pick you up, you had grabbed your shirt and trunks like always.

You knew that walking around in a swimsuit wouldn’t kill you. Logically, you knew it wouldn’t even be that big a deal…but you didn’t really want to, because you didn’t really want the attention that would come with baring so much skin. Was it a confidence thing? Was it something else? You didn’t really know, because you never really thought about it that much, but it was something.

You kind of wished you wanted to sit around in bikinis, especially as you looked over at the row of middle aged moms all wearing their newest suits and ogling Billy Hargrove. You could see the appeal; you had gone to school with him for your senior year, and you thought he was absolutely gorgeous. Of course, you had never really talked to him, because why would you? How would you? He had girls like Carol and Tina tripping over themselves for him, and you were busy…not doing that. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. It was just…why would he want you around? You probably weren’t his type anyways.

You glanced over at him as he sat in his lifeguard chair. Yeah, he was handsome. He looked downright amazing, actually, with a mane of golden hair and a torso that was covered in either sweat or oil or maybe both. He was just as nice a sight as he always was, as he sat there chewing on his gum and blowing his whistle and yelling at kids.

You had to look away before your face got hot enough for anyone else to notice.

“I’m getting a drink,” you mumbled, climbing out of your chair and heading towards the vending machine over by the locker rooms.

Stupid pool.

Stupid sexy Billy Hargrove.

You walked up to the machine, intent on buying a cold Coke to help distract yourself. When you dug through your pockets for change, however, you found that you were coming up short, and you groaned in defeat.

Great.

Now you couldn’t even get a drink.

This. This was why you didn’t like coming to the public pool. Why couldn’t you have friends with pools in their backyards? That would be way better than this. You’d be free of vending machines and lifeguards and maybe you’d even show off a bikini.

“Hey, you good?” One of your friends called as you walked back towards them.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved your hand dismissively. “I’m fi—“

You were cut off by a sharp shove and a yelp, and the yelp was coming from your own mouth. A moment later, you hit the water, and as welcome as it felt on your sweaty skin, you were not a fan of the fact that you were soaked.

“Hey!” You sputtered as you broke the surface again, blinking water out of your eyes as you glared up at the side of the pool. “What the hell was that?”

You saw two boys standing there, probably in junior high, wearing shit eating grins as they snickered at your misfortune. Your expression immediately darkened, and the look you gave them as you started hauling yourself out of the water was dangerous enough that they ran.

“Get the fuck back here!” You snarled after them. “You little—hey! I’m talking to you!”

Your voice was drowned out by the sound of a whistle, and you didn’t need to turn around to know that it belonged to Billy. As you pulled yourself out of the pool, you could hear him yelling at them, threatening to ban them for life if they did it again. You figured he just liked the power rush.

You didn’t realize he was pissed off for your sake.

Billy Hargrove had been watching you for a while, ever since you got up to hunt for a drink. He didn’t really know you, but he knew of you, and honestly, when he saw you walk in with your friends, he had been more than a little curious about your body. One of his favorite parts of the lifeguard gig was getting to check girls out, even if he didn’t like half of them. When he saw you in that big shirt and shorts, though, he was disappointed, and a little part of him thought that it was absolutely hilarious that those kids had just pushed you in.

Even if he did think it was shitty, and he was pissed that they did it to you, and he was pissed that they didn’t seem to understand that this was his pool.

“Are you okay?” Your friend, Cindy, asked as you stood before everyone, soaked to the bone. They were all sitting up in alarm now, glaring daggers at the stupid kids who had seen fit to fuck with you.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled, trying to wring out your shirt. “This blows…”

“Hun, you’ve gotta take it off,” one of them clicked her tongue. “You’ll be miserable wearing all that.”

You looked down at the amount of water dripping from your clothing and sighed. She was right.

It was time to admit defeat.

“Fine,” you peeled the wet fabric away, tossing your shorts and shirt in a pile near the rest of your stuff.

It felt weird to be so exposed, even though your friends were exclaiming and oohing and ahhing over you. Your bikini wasn’t the most fashionable, but it was fairly small…and now, absolutely nothing was left to the imagination, and Billy Hargrove couldn’t stop staring.

Holy shit.

What a fuckin’ body.

Now that was something he could literally get behind.

His whistle fell from his lips as he watched you awkwardly trying to pick at your tiny bikini as if it could somehow give you more coverage. It was plain, sure, not as bright as Mrs. Wheeler’s new suit, but you had definitely caught his eye, and he wasn’t looking away anytime soon.

And…hang on a second, was that a tattoo on your hip?

Shit.

He had no idea you looked so fucking good. This entire time he could have been hitting on you, working on getting to know you, maybe making you his girl…and he had almost let all that potential slip away.

Your friends were staring at you, eyes nearly popping out of their heads.

“What?” You snapped, sitting down in your chair.

“You look…” Cindy trailed off.

“Amazing!” Abby finished.

“When the hell did you get a tattoo?” Maria asked.

You just felt your cheeks flush and slid down in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to figure out how to simply sink into the ground and not have to deal with anyone. This was exactly what you had thought you could avoid.

“Oh my god,” you heard Cindy whisper. “He’s looking.”

“Who?” You asked tiredly, daring to glance up.

You didn’t expect to suddenly lock eyes with Billy Hargrove. He was watching you like a hawk, very obviously checking you out, even as you drew your knees up and tried not to exist.

“Fuck,” he groaned, already knowing he was hooked. “Fuck me.”

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove #stranger things

[bvtbxtch]

Obsession | Eddie Munson

Day Eleven of Kinktober

Summary: Eddie's obsession with you has been fun and games - late night drives, hookups and even a couple of dates. He has seemed to cross a line as of late, marking you as his territory.

wc: ~2.5k

Pairings: Ghostface!Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Warnings: this has to do with a serial killer and is smutty so an obvious 18+ MDNII!!! Is in order. Murder and serial killers, blood, knife play, mask play, consensual non consent at first, oral (m receiving), anal play, protected p in v sex, established relationships.

in collaboration with the amazing @darknesseddiem! stay tuned for their prompts next week!

a/n: I know I am now technically a day behind but I promise it will pick up. Today is my birthday so I will probably end up posting two stories tomorrow instead of today! I am definitely willing to turn this universe into a series if you're interested! Potential for Ghostface!reader is definitely budding!

Your ponytail flicked as you bounced on the balls of your feet. The gym was full of screaming teens, but he couldn’t be seen from the bleachers. No, you knew he was there but he wouldn’t let you know exactly where. The buzzer on the wall blared signaling a win for the tigers. All of the green and white jerseys flocked to the center of the basketball court to celebrate the win - in what Eddie thought was a barbaric and a little homoerotic show of muscles and lack of cranium. He loathed these games with all of his heart, he loathed Jason Carver - jock and sole reason Eddie’s gaggle of freshman DnD nerds were scared to walk alone down the hallways - the most. Of course his manicured smile sauntered up to you and your horde of preppy ponytails. He hated the toxic positivity second to Jason. But you were different. You and your sunshiny smile encountered Eddie underneath the bleachers, a joint in your hand and flush across your cheeks. Eddie had hid away from PE, and you were hiding from Andy Dwyer and his endless barrage of courting offers. He had laid hands on you before, and each time he would ask you out, he would get more and more aggressive. You told this to Eddie in blind confidence, the attraction and understanding between the two of you magnetic. You and Eddie were fast and strange friends, and either even odder romantically. The line was crossed after you both had snuck to the back woods lining the Harrington house during one of his bi-weekly ragers. He had drunkedly kissed you and when he backed away, you pulled him back in. You had been inseparable ever since - well understandably, save school and other social events. Eddie wasn’t dumb - you had a lot going for you and being seen with him would be social suicide. And that’s why the freckle on your glowing reputation that was Andy Dwyer needed to be wiped away.

Hawkins High was shocked at the passing of one of the basketball meatheads, of course. They found his body strung up in one of the basketball hoops, a neat puddle of blood dripping onto the hardwood below. You came running to Eddie to his picnic table, eyes wide and face pale. 

“Teddy, you’re never going to believe what happened. Oh god I feel like I’m going to throw up.” you panted. Eddie rose, expression stoic as he wrapped himself around you.

“What’s going on sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced with fake surprise.

“A-Andy… someone… they killed him. Like murdered him. Apparently the custodians found him flayed and stuffed into the fucking basketball hoop.” You could feel tears of horror threatening to spill through your curled lashes. You looked up at Eddie, who was surprisingly calm. He looked down at you with cold eyes.

“Well, guess he finally got what he deserved.” You pulled at the lapels on Eddie’s vest. 

“Eddie, people are saying this is an attack against the popular people. What if one of the cheerleaders is next? Wh-what if I’m next?” You whimpered. Saying these things out loud made you more scared than you thought you were. Eddie’s hands migrated down your arms to your hips and he lifted you to sit on the edge of the old wooden picnic table. 

“Listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. As long as I’m around, you’ll be safe. I’ll always be watching, okay?” Eddie eyed you carefully, wishing he could tell you everything so you really didn’t have to worry but it was still too soon. You would know everything in due time. You nodded your head slowly and Eddie pulled you in to kiss your trembling lip still. You heard the bell ringing in the distance and pulled away from him. 

“Shit, I gotta go to math or else Mr. Finnigan is gonna kill me.” you pouted. Eddie stepped back to let you off the table. You grabbed his cheek and pulled him in for one more kiss. You turned and hastily trudged through the field to the school, looking back at your mop headed boyfriend. His usual dopey smile was replaced with a clenched jaw. You entered the school and tried to push down the sick feeling in your gut that Eddie might know more about Andy than he let on. 

Eddie often climbed through your window late at night. Your parents didn’t approve of you dating, especially a person like Eddie Munson, but he was good to you, better than any of the jocks or preps that would be a parent’s wet dream to be introduced to. You were reminded of that again that night, when Jason Carver got too close and crossed way too many lines when he thought no one was looking. ‘His friend was dead’ he said. ‘He just needed some company,’ he said. Still no excuse to pull you in by your arm and press his lips to yours. When you pushed him off with a disgusted scoff, Jason Carver called you a prude and a tease and that you would be lucky to have him because no other guy is going to want to touch you after the shit he spreads around the school. Little did the both of you know, Jason Carver dug his own grave, not yours. 

You had your PJs on, fresh and clean from showering off the sweaty game. You cheered hard - everyone did, for a desperate distraction from the brutal murder of one of your own. You swear you could still see red blood staining the ropes of the basketball hoop. You grabbed your book, ready to forget about the day, about Jason and about Andy. Sleep was just about to take over when you heard a rapping on the window, the same secret knock you and Eddie had created, but it sounded like something like a twig or a piece of metal tapping against the window. You looked up from your book to be greeted by darkness, the familiar face of that lopsided smile not peering through your window like normal. Your brows furrowed together in confusion as you went to unlock and open your window. You stuck your head out of the window, greeted with even more confusion as you met nothing but the gray shingles on your roof. Suddenly, you felt a gloved hand on your mouth and pressure that pushed you back into your room. You tried to scream, but your breath was pulled from your chest in pure shock. You didn’t realize you had screwed your eyes shut in horrid anticipation. When you stilled against your wall, you opened your eyes to be greeted by two black holes contrasted by a stark white mask, its mouth morphing into an unnatural scream. Your breathing picked up as you realized your worst nightmare was coming true. Andy’s death was a statement and you were next.

Streams of tears fell down your face. You wanted to fight, to plead or to hide to save yourself, but you were hypnotized under the mask’s gaze. You couldn't see who was behind it, but could tell their stare was boring holes into your soul. The figure pulled out a knife from underneath the large coat they wore and you began to cry. The masked figure shushed you and you could tell the familiarity of his voice, even though in your shock, you couldn’t quite place it yet. The form ran the knife down the front of your nightshirt, eliciting goosebumps radiating from your sternum. You jerked against him, hoping to free yourself but he held your shoulder at a bruising strength and pinned you to the wall, the knife now mere inches from your throat. 

“Don’t worry doll, I’m not gonna hurt you if you just hear me out, okay?” You felt your world slow and your knees gave out at the familiarity of the voice. You gently moved your hand towards the mask and pulled it up to reveal the sweaty face you hoped wouldn’t be under the mask. Your breath heavied as you pulled the mask off all the way, revealing splats of blood across the left side of his face and scratch marks on his neck.

“What did you do, Eddie?” your voice shook.

“I was protecting you, doll. He was all over you at the game. No one touches you like that.” You felt the bile rise in your throat at the realization that this was in fact someone else’s blood on him, that the scratches on his neck were probably Carver’s last ditch efforts for his life. “I’s so sick and fucking tired of those meatheads thinking that they can just take what they want and not suffer any consequences. You aren’t just there at their disposal.” Eddie’s voice raised and there was a crazed glint in his eyes. He let go of you hastily and you flinched. Eddie’s eyes softened and his hands went to your hips just like they did the day Andy was found. 

“I meant what I said that I would never hurt you, doll. I meant that. I’m always looking out for you, that’s why I had to knock some sense into fucking Carver.”

You wanted to be scared. You wanted to run and scream but your heart swelled in your chest. The boy who stood before you proved that he would do anything to protect you. Fuck, you could probably tell him someone looked at you funny and he would take care of it. You pulled Eddie into a needy kiss.

“Thank you for telling me, and thank you for trusting me, Eds.” Your hands snaked into his large trench coat and you hooked your fingers into his belt loops. You pulled down on them and Eddie gasped out in excitement. He only hoped that you would understand, but this was above and beyond. You wanted to show him that you would do anything for him as well. You grabbed the mask out of Eddie’s hands and put it back on his face with a mischievous smile. You backed Eddie up to the foot of your bed and sat him down. You lowered yourself between his legs and undid his jeans. You could tell that Eddie was already growing hard and violently turned on. You released his hard cock from his dark denim and the mask tilted upwards in satisfaction. You lowered your mouth onto his member. Eddie’s hand flew to your hair, pulling softly. You let out a moan that vibrated through Eddie’s whole body. You bobbed and gagged until Eddie was a shaking mess underneath you, and drool was pooling at the base of his length and down to his balls. You detached your mouth from him and replaced it with your hand, pumping hard. You could hear the pants your boyfriend was making underneath the mask, they were delicious and you wished you could save his sweet sounds to play back when you were alone. You looked at the empty sockets and you placed your mouth on his heavy balls. You suckled and licked like a woman starved. 

“Fuck, baby, you take me so well.” Eddie cooed. “Do anything for you, keep fucking going” You giggled into him and rubbed your manicured hand over Eddie’s weeping tip. He hissed loudly and with a ‘fuck’, he pulled you off of him. He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you face down onto the bed. 

“Now as much as I want to see your face painted with my cum, I wanna make that pussy mine.” You tried to look back at him but you felt the cold point of his knife on the back of your neck. 

“You’re gonna keep your face down and that ass up for me baby. Be a good girl and show me how much you want it.” You moaned lightly at his words, your pussy already impossibly wet. You felt the knife trail down your back overtop of your night shirt. You felt Eddie flip the bottom of your shirt over your ass.

“Now, now, what on earth am I gonna do with these on?” Eddie scolded, peering down at your pink cotton panties. With a small gasp from you and a flick from the man’s wrist, your underwear were now in pieces, granting unlimited access to your sweet cunt. He plunged his middle finger into you with no warning, making you moan into your blankets. He pulled his finger out and put it into his mouth under the mask.

“Delicious baby. I can’t wait to devour you whole.” His voice was dark and muffled. He pulled the mask up so it rested on his curls. “But if I don’t fuck you right now, I am gonna fucking combust.”

“Please, Eddie, please.” 

The man spread your legs and returned the knife to the back of your neck. He pressed slightly, encouraging you to spread yourself out for him and push your head further into your sheets. You heard the crunch of foil opening. 

“You ready for me, doll?” Eddie sneered. “You gonna take me like a good girl?” You shook your head violently. Eddie grabbed his length and hissed as he ran it through your wet folds. You whined at the stretch of his fat dock pressing into you. He stretched you to the point where you had no idea how he was going to move, you were already so full. You felt the knife leave your body again and you heard a slump of Eddie removing his jacket and shirt. You looked behind you to see Eddie slowly pumping in and out of you, his soft abs tensing as he thrust. His pale skin was littered with black tattoos and spatterings of red blood. Eddie felt your tight pussy clench against him and any kind of control he was trying to maintain was gone. His grip migrated to your hips and you were sure he would leave bruises later. He burrowed into you at an unforgiving pace, making you see stars. You cried Eddie’s name out, edging him closer and closer to his release, but he was determined to make you fall apart under him. He moved his hand to rest on your ass, sending a couple of slaps to your round cheeks. 

“Eddie… I’m gonna… I-”

“Let go for me, good girl. Come on.”

Eddie’s thumb moved to tease your puckered hole that was on perfect display for him. He pushed into your tight hole up to his first knuckle and you cried out in ecstasy. Your orgasm waved over you and you shook like a leaf around him. Both of your holes had him in a vice and it sent him over the edge as well. The two of you moaned together as you worked each other through your climaxes. 

You stilled until both of your chests were done heaving. Eddie pulled himself out of you with a grunt and he stood off of your bed. You got up to face him, holding the mask’s cheeks like they were just an extension of your lover. 

“Stay the night?” you asked.

“I would love to, but can I steal a shower? Don’t wanna get your pink sheets all bloody.

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#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson edit #eddie munson smut #ghostface!eddie #ghostface!Eddie Munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4

[bmodiwrites]

Eddie sits stoically outside his gate at the airport. His flight's been delayed three times now and there's no sign of that status changing. He curses his manager for the billionth time that day - Eddie wanted to drive from the start. Now, he's stuck in an airport surrounded by unhappy people, impatient workers, and a teenaged boy that keeps staring at him.

It's understandable, the stare. Eddie has his customary airport garb on; he's so recognizable no matter what he does, it's pointless to try and hide. Instead, he wears a beanie pulled over his curls so they're not so prominent, while big framed glasses sit on his nose to obscure the odd color of his eyes. After years of avoiding fans, Eddie knows it's all about blending in, not standing out. Though he's doing a good job of exactly that, some people are more persistent than others.

The young boy stares at him with an intensity that's kind of unsettling. Eddie knows that the kid knows who he is, there's no use trying to ignore that any longer. For some odd reason, Eddie's music is starting to become popular with the new aged teens. Despite not understanding what his heavy rock music does for a youngster not raised in the age of metal, he's trying to get behind a different fanbase starting to flock towards his creations. Maybe it's the timeless look Eddie's never allowed to be taken from him that draws in all the new fans. Whatever the reason, Eddie's now being recognized by high school kids all over the place.

Trying to avoid any sort of confrontation, Eddie gets up from his seat to check the flight's status on the departures board. It's bittersweet to see that nothing has changed. Sucking in a breath, Eddie heads back to where he was - except, the kid from before is sitting a couple chairs down from him instead of across the way. There's a brief second where Eddie thinks about ignoring the kid and moving on all together. Something stops him and he moves to sit down, instead.

It takes all of ten minutes for the boy to lean over and say "you're Eddie Munson, right?" It's whispered and done in such a conspiratorial tone that Eddie can't help but laugh. His previous thoughts about grunting out an answering affirmative and signing a quick autograph fly from his head. Suddenly, the cure for boredom is right in front of him.

In answer to the kids question, Eddie brings a finger to his lips in a 'shh' motion and winks. The flush of redness that overtakes the teen's cheeks is worth the extra ten minutes he's going to have to take out of his day to answer what are more than likely going to be inane questions. He's surprised then, when the kid starts talking about himself, instead.

"I'm trying to make it to my Uncle's place for the holidays. My parents, they decided they didn't want me around anymore and he's the only family I have." There's a pause just long enough for the kid to take a breath before he continues. "I've never not been with my family for New Year's." His tone is wistful and sad, familiar to Eddie in such a visceral way that he ditches his attitude and actually listens. His story sounds like Eddie's before Wayne took him under his wing. He understands this kid more than the boy will ever know.

"Home is where you create it, kid. You'll come to see that the family you make is exactly what you've always needed. The right people will come into your life. Just give it some time." Eddie wishes someone told him that all those years ago. The journey to the peace he now feels was a long one, one that took a lot of grit and determination to make it through.

Eddie thinks that might be the end of it, but the kid eventually speaks up again. "Where's home for you? The internet doesn't have much information on Corroded Coffins' coveted lead singer." That gets a snort out of Eddie which makes his young friend smile wide. It's a nice enough look that Eddie throws caution to the wind and answers honestly. There's a reason his personal life is so hard to keep track of but this kid is more than likely not a threat.

"That's a complicated question. I spend more time on the road than I do in any permanent place." It's enough of his current reality to answer the kid's question, but it's not the entirety of it. The piece of his life he always leaves out makes his chest ache like it has been for the past fifteen years. The world isn't ready for a truth like that.

Though, Eddie's never met someone like the teenager looking at him so curiously. There's a knowing gleam in his eye that makes him think of Dustin sitting at the D&D table. He's about to get hit with something profound that Eddie's got know idea how to handle.

"Kind of a cop out answer, don't you think? I'm not some fancy reporter - who am I going to tell?" There's an edge to the kid's voice now, one that makes Eddie think he's been brushed off a time or two too many.

With a sigh, Eddie turns more fully to the kid, dropping his voice so it's clear it's important that only the two of them hear what he's about to say. "Home isn't a place for me. There's a person in my life that acts as an anchor, no matter where I am. He's - " Eddie falters for a second and quickly corrects himself "they're usually here with me but our best friend just had her second baby. I wouldn't be so worried about getting anywhere with such impatience usually, but home is calling."

Suddenly, Eddie understands why the kid looks so damn sad - why, after knowing that Eddie didn't really want to talk, he persisted, anyway. The look that crosses over that innocent little face says it all. Eddie's slip up in mentioning the one that calls him home bridges a gap he doesn't even know is there until he's on the other side of the divide standing next to some strange yet familiar soul. The boy looks close to tears, though they appear to the happiest kind one could cry.

"It gets better, kid. I promise you that." The words are out of Eddie's mouth before he can stop them, but that doesn't really matter. The look of hope that crosses over his face is more than enough for Eddie. He knows he's in the clear with this fan, his secrets are safe. For once, Eddie's glad to be right where he is, sharing something about himself with a random stranger.

Especially when the kid says "I can't wait to have that," in this dreamy tone Eddie hasn't heard since he was a teen himself. It's invigorating and enough of an eye opener that Eddie jumps out of his seat.

Digging into his bag, Eddie finds one of his personal business cards, holds it out to the kid with a grin. "If you need a reminder you're not alone. It was good to meet you - " Eddie stops then, waiting for the kid to fill in the blank.

"I'm Xander, Xander Cole. It was nice to meet you, Eddie Munson." Xander blushes and drops his head to take in a breath. "Thank you. For what you said."

Nodding casually, like he didn't just change someone's life, Eddie beams one last smile over at him. "Good luck, Xander. I've got to get home now."

Eddie doesn't wait to see the way Xander's brightens or the knowing grin that starts to overtake his young face. The kid will never understand just what he's done for Eddie, how he's helped him, too. There's a special sort of joy that comes from knowing the little things in life, like having empathy and being a good person, still matter. Xander's got a life full of challenges ahead of him but Eddie's confident the kid is smart enough to figure himself out. After all, he set Eddie straight.

It's a long haul of a drive that feels like a thousand miles by the time Eddie's pulling into Robin's driveway. Virginia is a gorgeous place that Eddie's never taken the time to appreciate. Driving through it gave him the chance to take in the thick foliage draped in picturesque snow. There's nothing like the glint of sunrise off a blanket of freshly fallen powder. Eddie's already writing lyrics about it in the back of his head.

He's impatient to get out of the car, though, so Eddie doesn't worry about his luggage or the presents he's got with him, or even the day old clothes that are still covering his body. Shaky hands slam the car into park and he's out of his seat before it's probably safe to be. The keys are still in the ignition, he's so impatient.

The warmth of familiarity and comfort engulf Eddie the moment he steps inside. There's a bit of noise in the house, though it's still pretty early in the morning. He tries to be quiet as he walks further into the house but Eddie's Eddie - a klutz through and through. His elbow bangs against the banister as he treads through the foyer. It's enough of a commotion to halt the movement in the kitchen before what seems like a stampede comes barreling towards him.

Eddie's breath catches when he sees Steve standing there, looking right back at him. They stare for a moment, both caught up on the feeling of finally coming home. Always the first one to lose patience, Eddie narrows the space down between them until Steve's in his arms. The hug they share is fierce and firm, much like the intensity and stability of the relationship they've been building for years upon years. Xander reminded him that family is what's important, that home, no matter the person, or place, is worth the hassle of an unscheduled trip.

As they break apart, Steve presses a kiss to the tip of his nose, making the both of them smile. "You're here earlier than we expected. Robin said you wouldn't make it before the ball dropped." Steve kisses Eddie again, lingering in his space. "Glad you decided to prove her wrong."

"That's my main mission in life, sweetheart," Eddie says, reaching up to brush some stray hair from Steve's forehead. There's a chuckle and then a soft hand on Eddie's cheek guiding him back to look directly in Steve's eyes.

"Welcome home, Eddie."

Grinning, Eddie whispers "there's no place like you, Stevie" before finally leaning in and kissing Steve's lips.

It really is good to be home.

click for part two here

#steddie #stranger things #happy new year #ficlets #bobbie writes #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie au #steddie fics #holiday shit #there's no place like you

[sunday-12-25]

i do some volunteer work in the local trans community, and it's crazy to see how teens just flock to me. today there was a group gathering in a free-ish format n it's... god it's still blowing me away that among the familiar adult faces there's an ever-growing group of teens that rush up to me all excited. i am putting in effort too, i want to help them when i can, or just make the whole experience feel easier. crack a joke here and there. but the hype i get back...

the intensity comes with being a teenager i suppose, the whole experience is emotional and isolating even without the trans layer. i remember how big the desire to be heard was, it never really went away, i just got much better at making others listen. but when i didn't have it and when most ppl tried to get away from the overly excited adhd kid... that shit stung. i see it from the other side now, i see them, and it feels sometimes like i know just what to say.

i suppose i *do* know, cuz they keep coming back. they started a running joke when i was absent for a couple of months: they called me 'a father that went out to get milk and never came back'. but then i came back and was... god can you imagine returning to a bunch of teens greeting you all screaming THE FATHER CAME BACK!!! i shrug off the discomfort, i laugh it off like 'hahah, when did i even get kids, whoops!', but... man.

i am a someone to them. to matter to someone like this, to be remembered... i ground my whole childhood for this, learned to mask the best i could, then got stuck behind that mask with the same feeling of isolation. it sucks and it hurts, but when i talk to them and see them aiming for the same validation, i know how to give it to them. how to make all of them say something and be heard. it's a little thing, it's meeting once or twice, but it's a 'cool' man talking and listening to them, a Trans Adult from the other side of the thing they want, and he's talking to them in their mother tongue too. god.

it's just surreal, cuz to me i am mostly just me. i know me, i know us. but in their eyes i become someone with so much power that i struggle to imagine it actually being me. like they actually call me dad and i know that a lot of them have difficult family situations and honestly most of them are like 16-18 so they aren't even Kids kids, but holy mother of god, it fucking hits.

there was a new one today and he said he was 17, but to me he looked so tiny and lost, and he stuck around with me, asking questions n just chatting n god the way he opened up. you could see him become more comfortable and i don't even know what it was that we talked about but he paused and said 'you make me feel safe'.

god. man. i took it like a man, i was all comforting and slightly distant 'i try to be, this is a good place to let it out!'. but you know i was crying inside. i was this

like. ok. i don't let it get to my head! but. it did get to my heart

#also the protector instinct kicks in like NOTHING else. makes sense with the whole system... #tbh this whole thing makes a lot of sense in the system context. nuts!

[olderthannetfic]

Hey writer, take the write what you want to read further. Use it in original works too, you will feel so free.

Also, like read what you want to write and read a lot of it. My biggest struggle with both writing and reading has always been that I just really don't like the tropes that are used by native English romance writers. Now I love a good trashy romance, but English romance isn't even good. It's just the writing equivalent of a daytime soap. Like English publishing just feels like they don't treat romance very seriously since it's main demographic is women or queer folks. (Which I feel is why those are the groups who mainly flock to fanfic).

Korean and Japanese light novels and comics have been an absolute boon for me. (Chinese ones still come off as a bit too daytime soap for my personal enjoyment).

As a kid I went from tearing through anything I could get my hands on to reading as much fic I could as a teen to practically not reading at all for a good portion of 4-5 years because nothing could really grab me. All the romance for adults either had no plot or acted like sex was practically nonexistent and sometimes both. And if you like that, it's great but, it started to make me hate reading. Then I stumbled across the way that demographics work in japan and got curious enough to try again but with manga to see if I could get interested in what writers had to offer again. I was blown away honestly, I started tearing through comics (both Japanese and Korean) so quickly I was finishing and catching up with comics that had sometimes over 200 chapters in days. I started running out of things (because I have very specific taste but still my comic library is 3000+) so I started looking into light novels (god bless novelupdates)

A big part of my personal draw towards Japanese and Korean publishing is probably that even shoujo/teen girl demographics don't outright ignore sex, it's talked about and even happens in comics ment for teen girls. Like very fee that I've read ignore it. Also just in general the plots don't frustrate me as much much of English pub thrives off of avoidable misunderstandings that frankly give me second hand embarrassment (most English romance lit give me second hand embarrassment anyway cause the characters just suck but I digress) where as Japanese and Korean pub feels more like understandable misunderstandings? (English lit being mainly jealous/assumptions/cheating vs jap/Korean lit being hearing things out of context/rivals making misunderstandings/mistaken\double identies) summing up many English romances thrive of stupidity keeping the leads apart where as many jap/kor romances keep them apart via external forces. But I tangented oops.

Point being, it has finally given me direction in my own writing. I want to write in a way that emulates Japanese and Korean writing styles, I want to use the tropes that they more commonly use and a similar basic outline and story progression.

I can write and read again and it gives me genuine joy that I thought I had lost, that fanfiction simply can't fill for me anymore (the fandoms I'm in are starting to slow down due to age and most of the things that have active fandoms I'm just not interested in the source materials) anyway main point being sometimes you just need to branch out and look at less common places. Reading outside of English works finally ended my writers block and has given me a few small fandoms to interact with and while most of what I read has no English fandom I have such a treasure trove of orginal content that I very rarely need fic.

Thanks for letting me use the ask box as a little stage. I think you're wonderful for allowing your blog to be that kind of space!

-@botanicbones

--

[waylyngdraws]

my cunty culty monsterhearts oc

i, waylyng, have never played monsterhearts.

if you don't know what that is, i refer to the ttrpg based on all those supernatural teen romance novels; think stephene meyer, cassandra clare, all that jazz. it's a gloomy morning in the village, and you are a sexy vampire.

i made this character, however, because i wanted to be in my friend's campaign, and we each had to make an 'audition' character to see who'd take the last spot. didn't get it, but they're making a oneshot soon, so to celebrate, i'm showing you my character !

this is cassius (he/him). he's the monsterhearts skin 'queen', which, for the monsterhearts virgins among us, is like a regina george-style clique leader, whose power relies on keeping lots of loyal followers.

so, naturally, i decided by blorbo would be a cult leader.

he's been sent out from the "hub" where he grew up to tell people about the true happiness. do the popular kids not understand you? do you not understand when people talk about romance? do you feel like you belong in a skirt rather than trousers? well, you'll fit right in with Us. We will show you a True Community, and you too will feel the Love of the Thunderer.

(i chose the thunderer as the cult name of the god as a cheeky greek myth reference; bromios, the cult name for dionysus, translates as "the thunderer". i tried to find out what the cult name was for aphrodite, which is more appropriate, but like,,, they didn't slap as hard. looking back tho maybe should have chosen hestia though, for all the stuff about the hearth relating to community, and spooky death connotations. oh well. tangent over)

illustration ! religious ecstasy !

(looking back i'm not happy with the rim lighting, a bit flat lmao (like me—) and the shirt looks a bit strange. i will stop now)

here's a vignette i did as a "taster" for the character!

Who is Cassius? Don't you know?

When I say he's magnetic, don't think I just mean hypnotic — he's an obelisk, a monolith of cold, harsh metal standing far above you. You throw iron filings in the air, they fly straight to his side; such an austere exterior, why do they keep coming? It's a question they might even ask themselves.

The bell's rung, students are flocking to the cafeteria. You hear him before you see him, the hush of the surrounding voices, the rise of the mumblings that constantly follow. Cassius strides past, covered in his clique. You see the kid with piercings who transferred last week — they mustn't have fit in anywhere else. How easily they fall in.

They look so together, his swarm; all wildly different in appearance, but moving with a single mind. Like a flock of birds, they flow around him, so in tune with each other you'd call them a polycule if you didn't know better.

Through the people, you catch a glance: a wave of soft brown hair, punctuated by a shock of white. The school has no uniform, but he always wears a blazer. His nails, almost claws, a new look every week — today, they're black, dripping with molten gold. And of course, he's wearing that ever-present half-smile. You feel almost as if you could talk to him…but there's a chasm between you larger than words. You can't think what his life must be like. But still, to talk to him…how can you not try? And, trying, how could you not fall? i hope you enjoy my blorbo !! for my morally gray characters, i like taking a concept i really believe in, like community, and pushing it that extra bit too far. i hope i've accomplished that with cassius. he wants to keep you safe, he thinks he's doing the right thing, he thinks he's saving you. but. you can only be saved his way. enjoy !!

#artists on tumblr #digital art #ibispaint my beloved #ibispaint art #monsterhearts #oc #oc art #writing

[limeinaltime]

Lift up the receiver, he'll make you a believer (or a mistress)

CW: Child abuse

- The first Project, built in X’s image by the company when X wasn’t what they wanted. Previously an Administrator, becomes Head Administrator later. The oldest Project.

- Adam is everything the company wanted X to become: cold, ruthless, apathetic and bloodthirsty. His presence sends shivers up spines and hangs like a shadow over the flock even in his absence, and he lives up to the role of Murder Drone very well. His ambitions outweigh all, and his loyalty to his creator is sadly outweighed by his loyalty to the company, and he is not above hurting others to get what he wants, even his own family. He looks down on those he considers below him or weaker, and has no respect for those under his command. He also has an interest in “collecting” all the pretty young things within the flock, whether they like it or not. His power and influence usually brings them in, but those who are smart enough to refuse, well… good luck to them.

- In terms of offense, Adam has the ability to create hard light chains strong enough to snap bones and crush bodies, and commonly uses his energy as whips or to charge his claws and fangs for devastating blows. He also has the power to “monochrome” other drones, ripping out their essences and leaving only their directive, loyalty and obedience to a higher up behind. It’s how he keeps the more… rebellious members of the flock in line, and depending on how little he does it, it can also alter preexisting personalities and memories. - His red energy is cold and painful, ideal for interrogations and torture of both humans and Projects, delivering devastating and painful shocks that can leave permanent damage if nanites or biological tissue are exposed to it long enough.

- In the past, Adam was used as a hit-man by the company, and while he could never be X, he was very much a threat, stalking his targets for days, even weeks, before making his move. 

- As a kid and teen, Adam had a massive rivalry with two other drones, Project Alpha (@edibletrees2​) who was also built in X’s image, and India, who had a lot more power and strength than him. Adam wanted to make her his, and years later, when India mysteriously reappeared after years of absence, the company handed her over as an assigned life partner. He has no love for her and secretly relishes in the control he now holds over her, and has cheated on her frequently with a small group of mistresses he has.

- Adam’s closest friend and fellow menace is Project Eve, and the two are like Bonnie and Clyde, often seen together from the moment they met as kids. They used to run their own gang of bullies together, and while they aren’t in love, Adam’s feelings about Eve don’t exactly stop at a shallow attraction to her youthful looks and cutthroat fem fatale personality.

- He has no love for his children, and mostly takes it out on Hotel, who he views as weak yet fears will overthrow or surpass him, a pathetic, weak disappointment Adam is obligated to whip, beat and scare into an at least passable heir, and the same treatment went for 7, who he looked down upon even more due to her merely being an assigned ward, not a member of his “family”. He doesn’t think much of his daughter Iota, often turning a blind eye to most of her rebellious behavior but not above “putting her in her place”, and with Omega, he usually either pretends he doesn’t exist or treats him just as harshly as his other son. It’s rumored by the other flock members that he enjoys this cruel and often unjustified treatment, and whether or not this is true remains a mystery.

- After being exiled by X for his cruelty and lack of willingness to work with the flock, Adam agreed to help R take down X, but isn’t afraid to remind her that she only won because X was at her weakest, and that in any other situation, he would’ve left her to chase her unattainable dream. Deep down, X might be the only drone in existence who can scare Adam, and part of him both loathes her existence and holds a fearful reverence for the drone he was built in the image of but can never seem to surpass despite his best efforts. He tried to make X a mistress once and got kicked into a wall.

#Project Adam #murder drones #oc #my art #ref sheet

[sxugaryx]

Lustful Jealousy (Fanfic)

New chapter from my main series 🩷

January 15th 18XX

Dorian was actually surprised at the fact that the puppet had artistic talent, he had given him a small canvas on which he had already sketched a simple forest, and Pinocchio was following his instructions perfectly well; although he made a few mistakes along the way he quickly picked up on them, Dorian felt an intense amount of jealousy, other artists were prodigies from a young age, yet it took him until his mid-teens to form his craft and yet this puppet that has only existed for a year manages to do what it took him years to do so, Geppetto must be proud of his invention skills.

How can he not be jealous? The puppet has talent in music and painting not to mention how extremely handsome he is, although with his mannerisms Pinocchio is more cute than anything. Dorian leans in closer as Pinocchio is painting, sliding his hand underneath his hair to play with it.

Pinocchio feels a shiver going down his spine, he doesn’t understand why, he likes it when others play with his hair, but something felt different this time.

“Tell me Pinocchio… how have you been told how beautiful you look before?” Dorian asks in a quiet voice, as he leans in closer to him.

“Um… my mother says I’m very handsome”

Dorian gave out a small laugh, he is so innocent, so naive, so stupid.

“Yes but, has anybody that isn’t part of your family told you that? With your looks, I’m sure others are flocking to be at your side”

Gemini also sensed something was wrong, he wanted to assume the best in others but it felt like Dorian’s questions weren’t as innocent as they seemed.

“Well sure he is pretty, but with how much of a brat he is it’s hard to stand him,” Gemini said to try to lighten up the mood.

“Gemini!” Pinocchio got up, making Dorian have to back away from him. Pinocchio shook Gemini’s cage, “I’m NOT a brat!”

“Are you sure about that?” Gemini was dizzy, but at least he saw that his friend felt calmer.

That stupid cricket, Dorian cursed him, he needs to think of a way to get rid of it, or to separate them. Dorian then gets an idea, and he gets closer again, “Mmm Gemini you are very beautiful yourself, why not try and have Pinocchio paint you?” Although he found Gemini extremely annoying, Dorian couldn’t deny that inside of the cage, the cricket looked lovely, while simple, the design had a lot of charm and care in it, Geppetto sure does love to add detail to all of his creations.

Pinocchio was so excited at the idea, and Dorian picked and made the sketch, his two guests were now completely distracted from talking to each other, now that they had lowered their guards, it was all a matter of them going along their talk, and forgetting that he is behind them.

“Who knew that you were such a fast learner? It’s impressive, although I still remember the first time you upgraded your body, you shaking like a leaf”

“I was just nervous because father wasn’t there but I totally knew how to do it by myself”

“Wait, really?” Now that Gemini thinks about Pinocchio tends to learn stuff rather easily, “By just watching him?”

“Yeah, I just had to see him touch my heart here and there, and I learned how to upgrade it and stuff, Plus you know, all that Ergo we collected made things easier”

Mmm Ergo, Dorian obviously knows about it, it’s best described as the essence of one’s soul, he should know as he likes to collect it as well. All those years ago when he made that deal with that demon in exchange for his beauty; he must give Ergo to the demon he once summoned, if he didn’t then his looks would be taken away from him, at first it was tedious to kill those people for their Ergo but he got used to it, and he began to experiment with it, he found that Ergo could give more life to his paintings, it made them even more special, so he has his own special tools to use the ergo he has collected for his paintings.

Well, this is just perfect, Dorian already knows what to do, take out his heart and find a way to make it his own, he would finally get what he wanted and get rid of the demands of that pesky demon. Although all of this ends up reminding Dorian that he hasn’t given the demon Ergo and his deadline is approaching, Dorian has been having a hard time killing since Jack the Ripper was active, any suspicious behavior and he was done for, and when he did manage to kill someone he took the Ergo for his paintings. But thankfully the killer was caught, how incompetent they must have been to get caught so easily.

“Hey, Pinocchio don’t say that!” Gemini chirped louder, and Pinocchio turned around to look at Dorian Gray who was looking outside from a window.

“Oh? I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention, my mind was somewhere else, how rude of me” Dorian Gray smiled, “I invited you here and I’m not being a proper host or teacher, let me see how your painting is doing”

It was going along well, and Dorian continued along with his lessons, when it was all done Pinocchio was excitedly talking about showing his work to his father, Dorian listened to him, as he grabbed the painting of Gemini with his hands.

“How wonderful, it looks just like him” The colors perfectly reflected the essence of Gemini, in the grand scheme of things, it wasnt as wonderful as he was praising it to be, but he couldn't deny the care and love that went into it, and it only made things easier for him.

“Now, your father will pick you up soon, why don’t we talk while we wait for him?” Dorian makes small talk with him, at first he finds Pinocchio extremely annoying but he is starting to like how cute he is, it’s such a shame how he would have to kill him, it would have been nice to at least keep him as a pet.

As they talked, Dorian grabbed his own brush and began to add details to the painting of Gemini, he made an excuse that he was just adding something to make it even better, the truth is, he was using Ergo to enchant it, once he was done, he had to see if it had worked, as he had never used it in nonhumans, and the flick of his hand, Gemini’s lamp was turned off, the mechanical bug finally being quiet.

“Gemini? Gemini what’s wrong?!” Pinocchio was panicking, he took a closer look at the lamp, Gemini wasn’t moving, he looked as if he was asleep and couldn’t wake him up.

“It could be that he had a malfunction, oh dear, I hope you didn’t shake him too hard”

Pinocchio started crying, he thought that he had hurt his friend, and Dorian was giving him reassuring words, saying that his father surely would fix him.

“Pinocchio you love your father a lot, don’t you? Why don’t we make a painting just for him?”

“I… would like that,” Pinocchio said in between a few sobs.

“The day after tomorrow you are going to come here and we are going to have our lesson just as planned, but at night, I want you to come here alone, without Gemini”

“But-“

“And you can’t tell your father about this, it would ruin the surprise, come on Pinocchio, that day is our last day together, just imagine the face your father will make when he sees the gift you made just for him”

Pinocchio still let out a few sobs but nodded, he did want to make his father happy, Gemini is right, he is a dumb brat and he needs to find a way to make it up to his father, and he has to apologize to Gemini.

Dorian grabbed Pinocchio’s face and wiped away a few of his tears, and he admired the boy’s pretty face, his eyes, and his strangely colored hair that just made him more unique, his eyes.

His lips…

Pinocchio felt how Dorian pushed him towards him, kissing him, it was so fast that he wasn’t able to process it, yet when he was done Pinocchio started shaking, something felt wrong, that didn’t feel right but Mr. Gray was probably just trying to cheer him up so it was probably all in his head, right, he is just trying to make him feel better because he is crying, that’s all.

“That’s our little secret” Dorian Gray whispered in his ear.

Thankfully for Pinocchio, his father had just arrived, he rushed towards him and hugged him, crying about how he accidentally broke Gemini, while the two of them were distracted Dorian used his power to turn on the cricket again.

Gemini was confused he didn’t understand what happened, he went into his rest mode but that didn’t make sense, he felt completely fine before. Pinocchio was profusely apologizing to him, but it didn’t make sense, his shaking his cage surely wouldn’t break it, he got tossed around a few times while battling with Pinocchio, small shakes like that were nothing, something weird was going on.

Geppetto was also confused, he examined Gemini and couldn’t find anything wrong with him, but he said that he would take a closer look back at the Hotel, he assured his son that everything would be fine, and to not be too hard on himself, Geppetto was sure that his son had nothing to do with the malfunction after all. To make him feel better he praised his paintings, after all, they were beautiful and he was impressed, he was proud of his son.

As they were leaving Pinocchio caught that Dorian had given him a small wink, he still felt guilty and he wanted to make his father happy and proud, that painting would be perfect, and his father could hang the painting next to Carlo’s portrait and everything will be even better.

He only needs to push away those feelings of anxiety, Mr. Gray is clearly his friend, he has done a lot for him even if they just met, he needs to stop getting anxious so easily.

If Mr, Gray is his friend then he wouldn’t hurt him, friends don’t hurt each other like that, so he has to trust him.

#lies of p #lop #liesofp #lies of p game #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p geppetto #lies of p fanfic #ao3 link #this is in ao3 too #lies of p gemini #dorian gray #the picture of dorian gray

[innytoes]

17. Visiting an apple orchard with Peterpatterlina because the AU where Reggie works at one still lives in my mind rent-free (and they have apple orchard date vibes)

So obviously I had to write a sequel to the other Apple Orchard fic.

The ride up to Harold's Apple Orchard was a lot nicer in their car than it had been on his bike. Reggie leaned against the window, taking in the sights. Behind the wheel, Julie was singing along to the radio, and Luke was in the back, hyping everyone up about the alpacas.

Yes, Julie had checked the website to make sure there were still alpacas. From what Reggie could see, Harold's Apple Orchard was pretty much unchanged, besides a few new benches and animals. He was very much looking forward to meeting the new flock of chickens.

It was weird, because so much had changed for him in the last ten years. He wasn't the scrawny sixteen year old desperate to earn enough money to take care of his little brother and still have time for his new boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. They weren't busting their asses to find a gig, any gig. They'd had a platinum record and a world tour. He'd put Steve through college with his money. He'd married the loves of his life.

And, well, the reason they were going in the first place, he now had a small child to impress.

"You ready to see the alpacas, Junebug?" he asked. Juniper nodded, clutching her little stuffed alpaca close. Next to her, Luke beamed.

Yeah, a lot had changed in the last ten years.

They parked the car, Luke helping Juniper out of her car seat as Reggie just looked around, staring. Julie slipped her hand in his, smiling. "Feel weird, coming back?"

"Yeah. Is it weird that I feel... taller? Even though my last growth spurt was way before I started working here."

"You grew into yourself," Julie said, grinning. "Now come on, I want a caramel apple and Luke and Juniper are going to explode if we don't visit the alpacas soon."

"Pacas!" Juniper shouted.

At the little check-in table, a teenager slouched. They were wearing an orange plaid and a black t-shirt and had messy black hair. They had a smudge of cinnamon-sugar on their cheek. For a second, Reggie wanted to blurt out something ridiculous, like: I used to be you.

"Hi, welcome to Harold's Apple Orchard, I'm Sam do you oh my god you're Julie and the Phantoms."

"Well, not all of them," Luke said, amused. "Couple of years left before we can replace Alex with Juniper, don't you think?" Julie rolled her eyes. Even though Alex had brought those jokes onto himself, buying Juniper a tiny baby drum set for her fifth birthday. Probably as revenge for the trumpet Luke had gotten their foster kid the Christmas before.

"Hi, reservation under Molina," Julie said, smiling. The teen nodded shyly, looking them up in the book.

"Um, it says here that... you have a special deluxe package? But we don't have... Ma!"

From out of the barn, Norah appeared, grinning when she saw them. There was a little more gray to her hair, a few more laugh lines in her face, but she was still the same Norah. "Reggie!" she called, waving. "I see you've met your replacement?"

"I have. I didn't realize you made plaid the dress code because of me." Reggie grinned.

"Oh my god," Sam said, embarrassed.

"Sam, be a dear and fetch the big picnic basket from the house, and tell Mom that the Molinas have arrived," Norah said. Sam ran off, only looking back a few times. "They didn't believe us when we told them you used to work here. Now, are you ready for the grand tour?"

"With 'pacas?" Juniper asked shyly, clutching Luke's hand.

Norah laughed. "We can start with the alpacas. I bet Alfred will be very happy to see your father." She leaned down and winked. "He used to feed him apple slices when he thought we weren't looking." Juniper giggled.

"You weren't supposed to know that," Reggie muttered, embarrassed.

"Oh honey, there's not much that we didn't know. Now, tell me all about what you three have been up to..."

Just like all those years ago, it was the perfect date, with the perfect people.

#julie and the phantoms #fanfic #I wrote a thing #juliexlukexreggie #juniper molina my beloved #the apple orchard is called that because harold they're lesbians running the apple orchard #juniper takes after Luke: obsessed with alpacas #yes she gets to feed Alfred apple slices obvs #yes Sam gets their JATP poster signed and they promise to send Alex and Willie and their foster kids soon so he can sign it too #yes Luke and Alex are in a friendly competition to give each other's kids the most annoying instruments known to man #yes Julie and Reggie got Willie noise cancelling headphones the same year

[4getfulimaginator2022]

Follow the Emerald Road, chapter 1/4

chapter 1: I'll take the high way

****************

Despite being in a bar, getting drunk was the last thing on her mind.

Her definition of irony? When a minor detail you've forgotten pops up at just the right moment to bite you in the ass.

That was probably why she was sitting sideways on a dirty bar stool, staring at her phone screen in disbelief.

Hey babe, something's come up and my dad's flying me to Ireland for the weekend. Nothing serious, don't worry, it's business. Dinner's on me when I get back.

Neal never spelled his words right in any of his texts. It's why she suggested he sleep with a dictionary under his pillow. Not that he took her seriously, of course. He kept auto-correct off and continued to gleefully misspell at will.

Heaving a scoff, Emma Swan threw back the shot of rum she had ordered, wrinkling her nose at the sting in her throat. Her boyfriend was hopping on a plane to Europe just like that. No good-byes, no apologies. Excuse me, sweetheart, but here goes three grand while I whittle away the time in luxury suites and expensive buffet brunch meetings.

His message was five minutes old.

She was still dumbfounded that he hadn't invited her along for the trip. After all, she was kind of responsible for his reunion with his father and the fact that he'd returned to the family business.

Mr. Gold was an expert antiques dealer with contacts across the globe, with a backed guarantee to sell anything that came into his collection for its right value. It was why he had such a high-standing reputation and everyone with old junk to spare came flocking to his firm. Neal's feud with his dad went back to when he was a teen. Their argument over his mother, who had gone off and left the both of them years before to make a life for herself in Ireland, was absurd.

Emma couldn't see the sense of it. The woman was grown and could decide for herself and hey, it wasn't like she belonged to her husband ― that would be a creepy standpoint ― so if she did the wrong thing and abandoned her family, that was her choice. Nobody was responsible for what Milah Gold did and did not do.

Which was why Emma had seen the ad in the newspaper and begged her stubborn, obnoxious boyfriend to please reconcile with his father. She had argued that he should consider himself lucky to have family who loved him and wanted him back. People like her...they didn't get that. Ever.

Fencing those watches all those years ago had worked beautifully for their savings. But money got spent and with expenses piling up, what had been an extended vacation in Tallahassee became a one-way move to Boston, with nothing but two suitcases, the Bug, and new dreams. They made their way through college and got into business school, which was the most they could afford at the time. From penniless thieves to penniless students , Neal would joke. Then the whole meeting with Mr. Gold mixed their lives up again.

For the first time in his life, Neal had an honest job and found out he was pretty good at being an art agent. He knew how to sell, how to buy, and how to win while doing both. Emma, on the other hand, had paid the price for his newfound confidence.

Before, it had been just her and him against the world. Now he was busy all the time, working late hours in his father's store, going over the fine print of would-be contracts, and slipping off to look at whatever new item came in. But life was hard and she understood the power of hard work. She was busy as well. Being a bail bondsperson didn't come with a lot of days off.

But understanding that life wasn't fair didn't make her feel less lonely, less forgotten, or less worried about being left behind. Like she was this very second.

Milah was a sore spot for Neal. With his faint memories of his mom and how attached he had been to her as a child, he was about to do something rash. Emma could sense it. He had never forgiven his mother for leaving them and if she had a new family over there in the Land of the Leprechauns, heaven help that woman. Neal was bundle of nerves and raw emotion. He spoke first and thought later. Seeing the truth of Milah's situation, right in front of his eyes, would make or break him.

Again, she tried to convince herself that it was out of concern for her boyfriend that she was even considering this.

She needed to be there for him. He couldn't do this alone.

Plus, there was the other side of the scale. He would see his mom and maybe want to stay with her. Emma wasn't prepared to say good-bye if that happened.

"Hi."

The man with the absurdly euphoric face gave her another toothy grin. Was he high or what?

She tried to smile back, but it was more of a grimace than anything else. "Hello."

Short enough that his feet barely reached the stool's rungs, her admirer was decked out in a moderate suit and tie, restless as he fidgeted. He looked down at her legs, then up at her face, then down again. When his eyes rested on her chest, Emma stopped her efforts to be part of the conversation. Another horny weirdo.

"Can I, uh, buy you a drink?"

She tossed her head. "No, thanks ― couldn't afford mine."

The man slapped down a twenty dollar bill, waving at the bartender. "Happy, give the lady whatever she wants and then make it a double ― I'll have what she's having."

Happy wasn't looking too thrilled. "Don't fall asleep on my bar again, lightweight," he grunted before refilling Emma's usual shot of rum and then filling up another.

"Hey, it's epilepsy ― I don't fall asleep suddenly for the heck of it," the stranger snapped back. Then his expression brightened, and he gave her another hopeful glance. She got more confused. "Oh, he's my brother. My nickname's Sleepy for a reason."

Emma felt herself nodding mechanically, all while wondering why she always attracted all the deadbeats.

Rewind.

Neal was a good guy. She was with a great guy.

Bars brought out the worst men, that's all.

"So, what's a lovely lady like yourself doing here, all alone?"

Ah, in for the kill, girl. She smiled sweetly. "I was actually waiting for my boyfriend."

Sleepy chuckled as if he didn't believe her. "Well, where is he?"

"Was supposed to meet me after work, but he couldn't make it."

"Poor you." He paused. "Look, I know this sounds forward―"

"More forward than buying a stranger a drink?"

"You're not a stranger. You're..." His gaze darkened when it roved over the tight fit of the pink dress she was wearing. "You're beautiful."

She toasted the rest of her drink. "Thanks a bunch."

"I mean it. Someone like you deserves attention. What's your name?"

Clearly, he was not going to leave her alone. Emma almost wanted to laugh. She gets dolled up to catch a thief on the run, but the best she gets afterwards is one of the Seven Dwarves asking her out. "Name's Emma."

He extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Emma. I'm Mike."

"Sleepy."

He shrugged. "It's a family joke."

"Look, Mike. " She stretched a bit. "I really do have a boyfriend. His name is Neal. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

His shoulders slumped. "Well, a woman comes to a place like this, dressed like that... You can't blame a guy for trying."

Emma let out a long sigh. "It's okay." She could be gracious to the poor guy.

Mike sidled up a little closer. "I own a drug store. It's not much, but... How about you? What do you do?"

"I'm more or less a bounty hunter."

Most of the time, that confession did the trick and scared off any asshole messing with her. But not this time. If anything, Sleepy here looked wide awake and definitely intrigued.

"Wow." He whistled. "That's impressive. You're one tough lady."

Shrugging, she leaned back on her chair. "Yeah, but it's tough work."

"Of course." He eyed her up and down again. "You're probably pretty assertive ― you go after what you want, and all that... Pretty straightforward, too."

Okay, enough of this game. If his eyeballs had hands, they'd be groping her.

"Emma!"

It was somewhere between a shriek and a banshee cry. That meant it could only be...

"Ruby, hey. Where's Graham?" She smirked at how the girl's face turned a shade of red to match her name. Short skirt and extremely high heels combined, Ruby Lucas defined the meaning of first impressions. Waitress by day and bounty hunter by night, she was "tough as nails" and disarmingly clever. She also was rather shocking when it came to romance. Like how the mere mention of her cute boyfriend could make her blush to pieces.

Provocative and romantic, Ruby was something else altogether. Mike's eyes were now bulging out of their sockets as he took in her appearance. Her dark hair was in complete disarray ( on purpose ), her makeup was perfectly applied, and her dress was a deep maroon, matched by black stilettos on self-manicured feet.

"He's got the late shift tonight." She took a seat on Emma's left. "And how about you ― did you get your man?"

" Busted ."

"Hell yes ― congratulations. That one was a piece of work. Where's Neal?"

And here she was, facing the same dilemma again. They'd barely just moved into the best apartment in Boston and made a real home. Was it asking too much if they could take their relationship to the next level and start a family of their own, instead of fighting over the past?

Ruby seemed to finally notice how riveted Sleepy was by the new conversation. "You ― who are you?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm a friend," he stuttered. "I'm―"

"Well, be a friend and scoot off. I need some girl time with Emma here ― alone ." She almost bared her teeth at him.

With a dejected wave, Mike carefully stepped down from his stool and scrammed. Most likely to make a round of the bar before circling back to see if she was by herself again and Ruby was gone.

Hah, not going to happen, buddy.

******************

Her colleague had hoisted herself onto his empty seat and was munching on the leftover snacks from happy hour. "You had dinner last night."

Emma toyed with the tips of her hair. "Yes."

"And he gave you something big and shiny?"

"Yes."

"Aw," she squealed, clapping her hands together.

"Earrings. Big, shiny, diamond earrings."

Ruby's wide-eyed stare transformed into a glare in mere seconds. "No ring? He calls it a special occasion, he doesn't cancel, he buys a new suit, and then there's no proposal?"

"Maybe he's just taking things slowly?" she offered. Her voice sounded weak to her own ears.

"Slowly? Slowly? Emma, you've been living together for over ten years . If that man doesn't marry you soon, I'd be happy to death-threat him for you."

She chuckled at the vehemence in her co-worker's voice. "No better way to compliment a girl than proposing under pain of death."

"I'm serious. What is up with you two lately?"

The question Emma was asking herself all the time. She couldn't ignore the signs anymore. Neal was pulling away from her.

"I don't know," she whispered. "It seems like he finds all the right reasons not to be with me."

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. Her red lips formed a classic pout. "Then get him to own up. Corner him."

"This isn't one of our bailers, Ruby―"

"It doesn't have to be forceful. Just...stand up for yourself. Go to him, instead of waiting for him to come to you. Propose yourself."

"But what if he has doubts? If he's not ready?"

"If he's not ready now, he'll never be ready." Her brown gaze flashed fire. "Come on, Emma. This isn't like you. You're not afraid of anything."

She gulped down all of the insecurities that rose to her throat, wanting to be voiced. "Neal isn't here right now." The perfect excuse.

"When he comes home then."

"He...uh...he's actually overseas. Flying there, apparently. He's gone to Ireland."

"Ireland?" Ruby wolf-whistled. "Nice. Daddy paid his fare?"

"Ruby..."

"Oh please. Don't get me started. Neal is Daddy's little boy and he knows it."

Time to get out of this scene. Emma clambered down, wobbly on her heels. Ruby followed, but not before stuffing the remaining mini cheese and cracker kebabs into a napkin and slipping the little bundle into her purse.

"Why didn't he invite you?"

She groaned, pushing hard on the wooden door of the pub. "It's for work."

"And?"

The cool nighttime air was a relief. This girl would track her back to the apartment until she got answers, so it was better to make the most of it. "I think...he wants to find his mom."

Ruby looked skeptical. "Um...he couldn't ask you to do that?"

She in turn raised a brow. "Europe's got its own privacy laws?"

"Ugh, okay ― so maybe he needs to do this on his own. But that doesn't mean you couldn't surprise him."

"With what, exactly?"

Her grin was all teeth. And toothy smiles and Ruby meant big trouble. Like her mouth was about to spout an idea that Emma would regret listening to. "This year is a leap year, right?"

"Yes..."

"And Leap Day is coming up, right next week."

She could feel it ― the craziness was coming. "So...?"

Ruby jumped up and down, quite a feat for high heels. Oh no, this one was a whopper for sure. Enthusiasm of this size required equivalent brainpower. "So it's tradition ― centuries and centuries before, women have proposed to their boyfriends and whatnot on a leap day in Ireland. You could ask Neal the big question and save yourself the trouble of waiting. Then it's happily ever after."

Emma snorted at that. "Look, I'm not a big conservative here, but a woman proposing to a man when he doesn't want to propose himself. That just sounds wrong ."

"Wrong? It's not like you're extorting something from the guy," she pouted. "I mean, the worst that happens is he turns you down. We're not living in the nineteenth century."

"Yeah, but..."

"No buts ― it's perfectly feministic and a tad liberal." Ruby's bright smile diminished. "Emma, come on. Fight for something for yourself . If you want this...want Neal...you need to tell him. You can't push back because you're afraid he'll leave when it gets serious."

"He almost did once," she whispered, remembering a very frightened girl who did wrong things to keep ahold of her boy. "Reuniting with his mom...it might change things. He's restless. What if I am not what he wants?"

"It's part of the risk of proposing, but your belief in your love has got to be stronger than that. Right?" Ruby nudged her. She stayed silent. "Right. So here's how it gonna go: you're packing tonight, I'm buying you that ticket with my frequent flier miles.

"And you, Miss Swan, are going to Ireland in style. Tomorrow."

****************

The bed and breakfast wasn't much to look at. Dingy tavern that covered half the base floor, six small bedrooms upstairs that constituted the "bed" part of the place. "Breakfast" was that oversized room behind the bar called the kitchen, which was the most sensibly designed of the lot.

The bathroom was a fucking travesty.

But Liam Jones had loved the house all the same. And Killian Jones had kept it because he loved his brother.

Not because the goddamn shack had been in their family for generations and dear old Pa had left it to them since everyone else was long dead.

Too bad the sorry bastard hadn't paid off the mortgage as well before bequeathing it to his only sons.

It was why Killian had spent endless hours in his miserable closet of an office, pouring over bills to and from The Jewel of the Realm . Well, this certainly was no bloody jewel of an inn. It was awful, forcing the wankers that came in and out-drank their tabs at the bar to actually pay for all those bottles of whiskey and beer. He'd had to break more than a few noses to see coin. On the other hand, foreigners who came in for a brief stopover, usually to visit relatives in town or see the few local sights, made for a convenient, confirmed payday with all their lovely credit cards on file.

Like the very winsome lass currently parading around his establishment, cursing enough to make the wizened sailors in the corner blush and chortle through their shots, spilling rum everywhere on his recently wiped counter.

Not to mention that she was spilling water on the floor he'd diligently mopped the past hour.

A few choice words to taunt her American accent, high-heeled shoes, and perfectly curled hair had sent her scurrying to the telephone booth by the door, plunking out change to feed the machine. Drying the glasses he just washed, Killian watched her out of the corner of his eye, listening to her hurried whispers and frantic nodding. He couldn't make out what she was saying, but she sounded desperate.

Desperate enough to approach him at the bar and beg for a taxi driver to take her to Dublin.

He snorted. "There's no taxi service 'round these parts, lass. Unless you commission the first available bloke here sober enough to offer you a ride."

Five eavesdropping faces peered at her simultaneously, grinning like maniacs. At least half of them were already drunk off their arses.

Leroy, who could hold his liquor better than most of his brothers, was clearly enjoying the woman's distress when he snarled, "Sister, you'd have to be offering me a lot to get me ass all the way to Dublin in this weather." The way he was passionately chewing his tobacco, Killian was worried the man would forget the golden rule of never spitting on his floor. Profanity he could handle ― but not tobacco cud.

Her face brightened. Killian bit back a smile. Oh, this blonde fireball had no idea what she was in for. "I'll pay you anything! I don't have much cash on me at the moment, but―"

"Cash? Ya think I'll do it for just the cash?" Leroy glared at her. "What else are ya offering?"

Her answering pout was kind of cute. It almost made Killian feel sorry for her, the lofty American. "That's all I got."

The mischievous glint in Leroy's eyes meant trouble. He pointedly stared at her chest and crotch. "What 'bout payment in nature?"

Killian spit out the tea he had been sipping.

"Excuse me?" Her mouth dropped open. "Are you seriously suggesting―?"

"You and me. On a bed. Naked as babes." Even his smirk was dirty. "I get 24 hours with you and your diddies, then we're free to go."

She still was speechless. Killian didn't blame her ― the image Leroy had painted in his mind would have to be scoured out, or he'd suffer more nightmares.

"Diddies?" Still gaping like a fish, she was.

"It's...slang. Irish slang. Means breasts," Killian mumbled. He shouldn't be blushing ― he has touched enough breasts in his time. But seeing the lass embarrassed was making his stomach twist in knots for no reason.

He was no chauvinist, but the way she acted and talked made him feel like a bloody fool.

She said nothing in reply. However, her now tight expression and narrowed eyes suggested that she was figuring out this little game faster than he thought.

"So if I...if we fuck and I pay you, you'll take me to Dublin?" She crossed her arms over her chest. He could sense a tantrum of mass dimensions was on its way.

The group of men roared with laughter. Leroy grinned widely. "You got it, sister." Then his face froze comically from hesitation, eyes bulging and mouth hanging open. "Oh, but there is just one little, itty bitty problem..."

"What now?" she snapped.

"I don't have a bloody car."

The tavern was in an uproar, with chortles and sniggers and full-belly laughs echoing from the walls. Even Killian had a go at it, adding his chuckles to the mix.

Big mistake, git.

"So you think this is funny, asshole?" She poked her forefinger into his chest. "You know what will happen when my boyfriend finds out how you treated me?" Another fierce poke. "He'll kick your fucking asses, that's what!"

"Bloody hell, woman ― keep your bloody hands off me." That made the brothers laugh harder. The lass's face was bright crimson by now. "The lads were just having a bit of fun, is all. No harm intended. Besides, I don't see your boyfriend. Oops, is that him? No, probably not. He's not here, is he?"

She bared her teeth at him, the vixen. "What the hell is your name?"

"Killian Jones, proprietor of this fine establishment." He raised an eyebrow, his signature trademark for getting women to calm down and shut up. "And you are?"

"Emma Swan. If you won't get me a taxi, what does a person have to do to rent a fucking room in this town?"

He scoffed. "You're in luck. This is the only bed and breakfast in town."

She lifted her chin and stared down at him. "Do you have any available rooms?"

Tempted to say no, he decided against it. Money was money, after all. He needed money. Mr. Gold was pressing for the loan to be paid. "Aye." He pointed at the stairs in the corner. "First door on your left. I'll forgive the upgrade fee for having your own private bathroom, as a courtesy for any inconvenience."

"How kind." She gave him a cold, feral grin.

He couldn't help himself. Something about her just rubbed him the wrong way. "I believe the right words are thank you, lass."

Swan slammed her credit card down on the counter. "Just give me the goddamn key, Jones, and stop calling me that ."

"Aye, love."

Goddamn piece of work, that one was. Compassion, my arse.

*************

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! This fic is from 2015, and thanks to peer pressure on FF.net and way too many incomplete fics, I pulled it down then. Now it's back! Get ready for another movie AU that also got pulled down but is half-finished. 😍 Links to the fic on AO3 are below!

Follow the Emerald Road on AO3

#cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs ff au #leap year au #captain swan #4getfulimaginator #cs leap year au

[that-is-just-so-typically-me]

Getting better is such a mysterious process. I know I’m always making progress, even with my stumbles and valleys, but I never expected progress to look exactly as it does. I’ve gone entire years of my life without crying, absolutely numb. That fact confused me then, but with hindsight I later understood that was a symptom of being in an unhealthy pattern that prohibited growth and kept me at a stagnant, stale safety. I’ve opened up in the years since, but recently, I’ve faced the opposite phenomenon. I think I’ve cried at least a little bit almost every day for a couple of months now (it’s hard to be sure). Sometimes from sadness, but mostly just from how overwhelmed I am at the impossible, fragile beauty I notice around me. I’m so easily moved watching shows or films these days - even though I can see the intent of the creators to pluck my heartstrings from a mile away, I buy in every time even if it’s embarrassing. I cry watching videos of people waving goodbye to the baby goose they rescued as they finally fly off with the flock. I cry listening to songs that remind me of my sisters’ love for me. I cry when my cat puts his paw on me as I get up because he just wants to stay connected to me. I cry thinking about how precious a gift it is to earn someone’s trust. I cry when my friends achieve something that they worked so hard to do. I cry seeing people choose every day to be soft when the world has given them every reason to be hard. I cry when I see two beautiful self-expressive teens holding hands and eating ice cream on the hood of their car in the Baskin Robbins parking lot at 9:00pm on a Sunday (god, how lucky are we to live in a world where two young hearts get to know love and ice cream and warm late nights in the springtime). I cry when I realize the two mascs hugging outside the grocery store haven’t let go for a whole minute, even though one of them has a skate board rolling off, and I know it’s the kind of hug where someone’s holding their loved one so their pieces don’t come apart and shatter on the pavement. I cry when I get a text from a loved one saying they are thinking of me. I cry seeing my farm boss’s grandchild pull up his first carrot from the soil she worked so hard to bring to life, the earth she tends while fighting for her life, that she cares for so well and receives care from in turn. I cry seeing my friends get back up every time life has pushed them down, pushed down one thousand times and yet always one more time. I cry thinking of my mother’s aging hands, her infinite capacity for acceptance and love, how I can feel her love deepening for her children (how is it possible?) as every year goes by. I cry with gratitude for the old me who never gave up each time it was all too much, waiting for me to come home into my body and love myself for the first time in my life, because I think I’m finally coming home. For the first time in my life I cry with gratitude for the lessons of pain, I cry for how much four years of this pain has taught me, how I feel like I became an adult for the first time in my life but how I feel like a child again in the best of ways. How the pain has made and is making me bigger after a lifetime trying to be small, how my anger and sadness and loss have lit up the moonless night of my life like a meteor, how for the first time in my life I feel I’ve begun to see. How I notice the entire world alive and rich and aching in the faces around me and the air and earth and seasons, how it’s expanded my capacity for empathy and joy (so much love and connection and compersion in places where only fear and envy and dismissal lived before), how all the loss has made all I get to have and have to lose so much more precious to me. I sit with the sadness and anger and fear and pain in ways I never could before. For the first time, I invite them inside for a cup of tea and let them all cry - and I do not dismiss the joy and acceptance and hope from the table. For the first time I am trusting myself to feel my way through this.

I don’t know how I can be living on this knife’s edge between pain and gratitude all the time, but I am - what I’m going through is the worst and the best thing that’s ever happened to me, somehow.

[gorgxoxus]

4 & 15 ❤💕❤💕❤

💜💗💜💗

4. What sections of a bookstore do you browse?

Fiction and young adult mostly. Sometimes I look in the biographies and science sections as well.

15. Review and recommend a book.

I just finished I Kissed Shara Wheeler by Casey McQuinston (author of Red White Royal Blue and One Last Stop). I loved the found (queer) family themes, the exploration of gender identity and expression in the context of a religious environment and school so much. The main character got on my nerves, but in a highly relatable way (I was the openly queer non-religious person in my highly religious school and community). It’s also a sweet book, full of interesting storylines and lots and lots of (out and not out) queer teens who are experiencing different things, which feels like a breathe of fresh air after years of the token gay.

On a side note I love that we are getting token straights now, as someone who went through high school in the late 2010s and had a mostly queer friend group. We do flock together, even by accident (pre working out sexualities and genders).

#thanks for the ask x #jell-o-shot

[the-travelling-witch]

Reaction to their s/o catching the bouquet at a wedding

summary: the title says it all basically!

pairings: timeskip!chifuyu x reader; ran x reader; rindou x reader; kokonoi x reader

warnings: implied fem!reader but no pronouns used; ran calls reader "princess"; a bit suggestive here and there but otherwise just fluff

a/n: my first tokyo revengers post, yayy!! i thought about writing for five characters at first bc i dropped the bullet points for this one but this post is already a lot longer than the others, so I left it at four (sorry mitsuya)

tokyo revengers masterlist

CHIFUYU

You were sitting next to your boyfriend at a finely decked table, chatting away with your old friends from school, joking about how tearful the groom had gotten in front of the altar. Despite the wedding reception going on for about three hours already, everyone was still in high spirits. The food was good, cocktail hour had already settled in everyone´s bloodstream and the hired DJ was doing a phenomenal job.

During the reception, the wedding pair, Hina and Takemichi, had been playing various games like answering questions by holding up the shoe of the respective person. Nahoya and Souta had been the ones interviewing the pair and you really admired the way they worked the crowd. But now that the guests had been sitting and chatting for a while it was finally time for the part most of Hina´s friends had been looking forward to: the bouquet toss.

All of you gathered on the dance floor, most giggling like excited schoolgirls, while the more reluctant ones were dragged along by their friends. You had to give it to Mitsuya: he had really outdone himself with Hina´s dress. When she moved to stand in front of the expectant crowd and turned to face the other way, the sparkly embroidery seemed as though it was a million tiny stars on a white sky.

“Okay, everyone, are you ready? We won´t have any cheating, none of you conspired so a special someone catches the bouquet, right?” Draken had snatched the mic and was building the tension among the guests. At the indignant “No!” from the crowd, he raised his hands in defence.

“Alright, alright, just making sure. Well, gentlemen, if your lady is standing on the dance floor right now, I really hope you can afford the wedding because I can see the determination in everyone´s eyes.” A nervous chuckle went through the room, while some of the guys that came alone elbowed their buddies teasingly. “Well then, Hina, if you´d do use to honour.” At the countdown, the bride threw the flowers high up in the air and into the outstretched arms of the waiting girls.

Although he had been part of many fights back when he was a teen, from his seat at the table, Chifuyu wasn´t able to see who came out victorious. That was until Hakkai tapped him on the shoulder with a cheeky grin and pointed him towards the centre of the slowly dissolving sea of people. Beaming at him was you and in your outstretched hands, you held the flower bouquet, proudly showing it off. He could feel his face growing hot and he fought the overwhelming urge to take his suit jacket off.

“Ahhh, baby, I caught it!! Can you believe it”, you squeal, basically throwing yourself into his arms. Despite his thrown off state, he still caught you easily and spun you, around making you giggle even more. Your friends were flocking over, congratulating you on managing to catch the flowers, while the former Toman members patted your (still) boyfriend on the back, asking when the wedding would be held.

After the wedding had ended, you were both sitting on the couch in sweatpants, watching a random rom-com. On the coffee table in front of was your catch of the day, beautifully arranged in a cute vase.

“You know, Matsuno, please don´t feel pressured just because of some bouquet yeah?”, you hum. While you would´ve married him on the spot if given the opportunity, you really wanted to be on the same page for this big step in your lives.

“Don´t worry too much about it, (y/n). Actually, I was happy to see how excited you got afterwards. It was very cute. And reassuring. You remember when I bought you that necklace for your last birthday?” Of course, you remember, you basically never took it off. You tilt your head for him to continue. “Well, it´s not the only thing I got that day.”

The gears in your head started turning when he slid off the couch and got on one knee in front of you. “Matsuno-“

Chifuyu gently took your hand in his and when you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but love and sincerity. “To be honest, this is not how I imagined this to happen. I thought maybe a romantic dinner or a scenic walk in the park but how could I pass up an opportunity like this? (y/n), I´ve never been more certain about anything in my life than asking you this question.”

While you were clasping your hands over your mouth, trying to hold back tears, Chifuyu pulled out a small black box he had been hiding.

“(y/n), will you marry me?”

As an answer you basically tackled him to the ground, peppering kisses all over his face cupped between your hands, mumbling “yes” over and over again, causing your fiancé to chuckle and a cheeky grin to spread on his face “Eager, are we? But I thought you were supposed to wait with this until the wedding night.”

This earned him a light whack to the chest although there was absolutely no ill intent behind it. Once you had calmed down a bit, he took your left hand again and slipped the slim silver band on your fourth finger before placing a soft kiss on it.

“See, darling, you have nothing to worry about.”

RAN

Normally, Ran tried to keep you away from anything related to his work. But he supposed bringing you to the wedding of his fellow executive was worth it, if it meant he got to see your eyes sparkle like that just a bit longer.

If he wasn´t busy being a gang member, your boyfriend could be quite the romantic. So, it didn´t surprise you one bit, when he pulled you to the dance floor every chance he got. And you couldn´t possibly be bothered by it when this handsome man guided you through every dance so elegantly. It´s not like you´ve never seen him in a suit before, after all, he wore them almost on the daily, but there was something about him tonight that made it impossible for you to look away from him.

“Something the matter, princess? Falling for me again perhaps?” he teased you as he dipped you slightly lower than before, which your heart only survived because you trusted him fully.

“What? Is it forbidden now that I look at my boyfriend? Especially when he put so much effort in his outfit?” You ran your fingers lightly over the muscles that were clearly tangible even through the thick layers of clothing. “But fine, if it bothers you so much, should I maybe look at someone else? Oh isn´t that Kakucho over there? My, he surely knows how to make a suit work for him, wouldn´t you agree? And looking at Rindou, I can see that being pretty must run in the family.”

At this, his hand on your waist tightened and he pulled you closer to him. The low and warning “Princess” that came from him sent a tingle down your spine but you pushed the feeling down. For now. As the dance came to an end, you cupped Ran´s face and give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Sorry, baby. You know I´m just teasing, right? I only have eyes for you after all.”

“Well, it wouldn´t be fun if you didn´t drive me a bit crazy every now and then. Especially because you´re always so cute when you make it up to me, yeah?” Whispering the last sentence in your ear, he straightened back up and led you back to your seats. Sometimes you wondered why you even felt bad when he always managed to spin the situation around so that you were the flustered one having to fight down the rosiness spreading to your cheeks.

Your banter went on for the rest of the wedding reception, well, that was until the bride announced that she would now toss her bouquet. At first, you weren´t sure if you should even get up because you didn´t know her that well. However, most of the girls assured you that it would be fine since a lot of them were the partners of other gang members and there had been two separate wedding celebrations anyway. It made sense, you thought, considering who the groom was, that the couple decided not to have the two groups mix.

So, with new spirits, you linked arms with the women you knew best and were swept into the excited crowd. Ran was watching from the sidelines, clearly amused at how easily the enthusiasm of the others rubbed off on you.

What he didn´t expect though, was for you to almost make flying receive while diving for the bouquet. If a scout for an NFL team had been there you would´ve probably been hired. You helped up some of the people that had taken a fall because apparently catching the bouquet was more of a fight when the crowd was made up of gang members and their s/os and then held up the flowers triumphantly.

You spotted Ran still at the table where you left him and sauntered over with a grin and a facial expression that basically read “You know what this means”. The men around your boyfriend lost it with how you were behaving, teasing him about who was actually wearing the pants in your relationship.

Sure, you were doing this partly to get back at him but you also wanted to gauge his reaction to the idea of possibly marrying you. Just like before, he showed a bothersome lack of reaction until you stepped close enough so he could suddenly pull you into him. Now that you were practically sitting sideways on his lap, he wrapped his hand around your waist again.

“Well, if you wanted to marry me this badly, you should´ve just said so, princess. I can´t wait to brag to everyone about my cute little spouse.”

RINDOU

You were having the time of your life, hitting the dance floor with some of your old friends. After not seeing them for what felt like forever you were excited at the chance to catch up with them. Not to mention that one of them actually got married today.

Sadly, your boyfriend Rindou couldn´t attend the wedding, he still had some business to deal with. But then again, you´re not sure how happy the newlyweds would´ve been if you had brought one of the Haitani brothers to their big day.

So here you were, chatting the night away with your besties, which brought back lots of memories from when you guys used to go out together much more often. You´d been exchanging stories about what and who everyone was up to, laughing at stupid ideas or plotting revenge against a cheating ex.

At one point, the bride had to excuse herself because “there was one more thing to do” and your curious stares followed her all the way to the front, where she picked up her bouquet of white and red roses from the wedding ceremony. Instantly recognising what she was on about, your table started giggling and throwing playful threats at each other.

“All of you, don´t even think about catching that bouquet or I´m never going shopping with you ever again”, (f/n) jokingly whined.

“A win-win situation then?” you quipped back, making the whole table erupt in gleeful laughter again. It earned you a flick to the forehead and some glares from the guests around you but none of you really cared.

“Does that mean, if (y/n) somehow manages to catch those roses we´ll finally meet that mystery boyfriend of yours?”, the brunette propped her head on her head and looked at you expectantly.

“I´d have to invite you to the wedding first”, you dead-panned. It´s not like you wanted to keep your relationship a secret from them but how do you explain to your very normal group of friends that your boyfriend was a member of Japan´s most dangerous gang?

“Boo (y/n), you kill-joy. That scared we´d steal him?”

“Ooohhh, maybe he´s a celebrity and that´s why you have to keep your relationship under wraps.”

“Or maybe-“

Before they could make up even more outlandish conspiracy theories about just who your elusive boyfriend was, the guests were asked to gather around for the bouquet toss. You guys were shoving each other like little children, all determined to get your hands on the beautifully wrapped flowers.

What your friends didn´t know, however, as the s/o of Rindou Haitani you had learned some useful tricks on how to win the upper hand in a scuffle and you were damned if you didn´t apply this knowledge here. So, just as you expected, the one holding a bouquet of roses and wearing a smug grin was you.

After you had sat down and your friends stopped complaining about how it wasn´t fair (though you could tell they were happy for you), you took out your phone. You sent Rindou a selfie holding up the roses and a text reading “LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT” and put it face down on the table. It didn´t take long for you to get a response that almost made you snort.

Idiot <;3: Throw it back

Rolling your eyes at his typical stoic behaviour you quickly shot a text back.

You: Nope, sorry, no can do. No returns allowed

You: Don´t you want to marry me, love?

Rindou groaned at your text. He knew that you didn´t mean it and that you were just poking fun at him but he felt a bit guilty nonetheless. Truth to be told, he had been thinking about this for a long, long time. First of all, he needed to be sure the feelings were mutual and while he was sure you loved him, he didn´t know if you were ready to take things to the next step yet. If he still needed more confirmation that you wanted this, it came in the form of your friends.

Brat <;3: voice message (0:22)

When he played the message, he heard the voice he expected only faintly in the background, shouting to give the phone back.

“Hi there, (y/n)´s mystery boy. We´ve never met but your s/o fought pretty hard to get that bouquet just now so we´re guessing you can´t be that bad.” “Also, we want to be invited to the wedding, okay bye!”

Brat <;3: Sorry about them🙄

Brat <;3:They´re drunk, don´t take them seriously

Rindou chuckled but decided he´d have to thank your friends when he met them for giving him the push he needed.

Back at the wedding reception, you were pinching the bridge of your nose exasperatedly when the notification sound of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts. What you read made you want to punch the girls by your side, then kiss them.

Idiot <;3: Do you mean the part about you fighting for that bouquet? I thought it was cute

Idiot <;3: But to come back to your question from earlier

Idiot <;3:There´s something I´ve been meaning to ask you but I´m not doing it over text

Idiot <;3: So better come home quickly, darling <3

KOKONOI

If you had to describe your environment at the moment, the only word that came to mind was fancy. You were currently attending the wedding reception of the daughter of one of Koko´s closest business partners. Given those circumstances, it was natural that everything was a bit more…grand than you´d normally see.

Even though you didn´t expect it at first, you were really enjoying yourself. Standing at the glass front of the penthouse, you switched between admiring the city skyline and your outfit. You were dressed to the nines, happy that Koko chose your attire or you would´ve definitely been underdressed.

With one arm linked with your boyfriend´s and a glass of champagne in hand, you were engrossed in a conversation with one of the brides, while Koko seemed to be talking business with some people you didn´t recognise. What you didn´t pick up on were the lovestruck glances he threw your way here and there. Sure, he picked your outfit but he couldn´t quite get used to how stunning you actually looked in it.

Your attention was pulled away from the woman opposite you when it was announced that the bouquet tosses would be happening. Yeah, plural. Two brides, two bouquets to be tossed. As you were excitedly pulled along, you barely managed to shove your champagne in Koko´s hands, who only shot you an amused wink and watched as you were swept into the forming crowd.

The bride you were talking to before was the first to toss her flowers and they just so happened to fly into the general direction of her friends in the front. There was a burst of laughter from a couple guys who you supposed were buddies of the man who had almost no time to catch his girlfriend but somehow managed to anyway.

Next up was the daughter of Koko´s business partner. Through the commotion the first girl caused, you had somehow ended up further in the front than before. You must´ve imagined it but you could´ve sworn she gave someone in the back a conspiratorial wink as she turned around. The guests counted her down as she gave the bouquet a few practice flicks upwards.

What you didn´t expect was for her to turn back around, stride over and hand the carefully wrapped flowers to you. When you just gave her a confused look, she grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. The guests had parted to make room for Koko who was standing in front of you, looking into your eyes expectantly.

“Hajime, what´s going on?”

“Well, pretty, what does it look like?” With that he got down on one knee, pulling a ring box from the pockets of his black slacks. “There´s been a question on my mind for a while now and I´d like to hear your answer to it.”

“And what would that be?”, you asked and you could do nothing to stop tears from forming and gathering at your lash line.

“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” You thought, in that moment, you could see every star reflect in Koko´s eyes and in your mind there has only ever been one possible answer.

“Yes, Hajime, yes. Yes, I will.”

And while the crowd around you broke out in cheers and shouted congratulations, you barely registered anything except for the man in front of you, who gently slipped the mesmerising ring on your finger. In true Koko fashion, he went all out and bought a ring that probably cost more than some people´s cars or houses. But that´s not what made it valuable to you. He could´ve proposed to you with a fun-sized pretzel and you would´ve treasured it ´til the end of your life.

You pulled your fiancé up and into a kiss that you´d hoped would convey everything you felt right now because you couldn´t possibly put it into words. He seemed to understand though and made a mental note to give you a more detailed confession when you got home tonight. But for now, he was content with simply holding you a bit longer.

“I love you, Hajime.”

“I love you more, pretty.”

#holly´s potions #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyorev fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff #ran x reader #ran fluff #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani fluff #rindou x reader #rindou fluff #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani fluff #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi fluff #koko x reader #koko fluff

[theramseyloft]

Cognitive and social information to make selecting, bonding with, and training your pigeon easier:

There are lots of things I can go into more detail on, but here are the hows and whys of pigeon cognition and sociology that form the basis of our research into communication and Therapy work, laid out as a guide to building your relationship with your bird, starting with generalities universal to the species, and ending with an in depth look at the mechanics behind the typical behaviors and temperaments of cocks vs hens and what to expect.

Though they are extremely social outside nest space, Pigeons, whether cock or hen, are life-or-death viciously territorial of their specific nest space.

For reference: 

A free flying bird with no cage considers nest space to consist of the actual nest and about their own body length around it. 

Because they are crevice nesters, a pigeon with an enclosure considers the entire enclosure to be nest space.

Only a pigeon's mate is allowed to enter their nest, and that's exclusively by invitation.

Peeps are hatched into it, and once they wean, they are not allowed to re-enter.

Anything entering their nest space that is not that bird's mate is instinctively considered to be either a predator, or a rival.

 A rival won't eat them, but is coming explicitly to attack them to drive them out of a good nest, which will involve killing their nestlings if they have any.

So, to avoid triggering the predator/rival defensive response, it's important to open your bird's enclosure to invite them to come out on their own terms when you want to spend social time with them. 

This rewards their natural curiosity and  makes you feel more like a cohabitant/potential flock mate than a potential predator or attacker.

While your bird is out exploring, you can strengthen your bond with them by treat priming; Address them by name, ask "Want a treat?" and toss a safflower seed in front of them, but not straight at them. Praise them when they eat it with something along the lines of "Yes, that is for you! Good bird!" in a pleased tone of voice. (even birds who hate handling and refuse treats respond positively to a pleased tone of voice.)

Calling their name every time primes them to look at you when you address them.

Little by little, as they get comfortable with the distance, you should be able to toss treats less and less far from yourself.

The end goal is for your bird to come into willing physical contact with you.

From there, you can start offering a treat on the tip of one or two fingers.

Once the bird is reliably accepting that, offer the treat held by the narrow end between your thumb and index finger. 

This makes your hand more similarly shaped to the head of a bird than the scary giant talon with extra toes or giant snake it usually looks like to a bird.

In every flock of pigeons, there are at least one or two teen or older birds that will feed any weaned baby that cries. 

I call these "Flock Aunties/Unkles", and this is the mantle you take up for your bird once they get they hang of hand feeding.

It's best to start having out times in the evenings, so that bed time is after dark. Lights Out training makes returning them to the enclosure less stressful for both you and your bird.

When you want to put the bird away, address them to get their attention, and say "Lights Out or Bed Time soon!", wait about 10 seconds, Then walk over to the light switch, make a note of where your bird is, repeat "Lights Out/Bed Time now", and flick off the lights.

Pigeons are diurnal and non-migratory. They can't see in the dark, and just sort of turn off. 

This differs from the learned helplessness shut down in being instinctively  associated with sleep, rather than inescapable distress.

In the dark, you can pick up your bird and gently return them to the enclosure without the stress of having to chase and catch them.

After a few repetitions, birds that don't enjoy being carried to bed will use the ten or so seconds between "soon" and "now" to fly back to their enclosure on their own. Birds that do like being carried will assume the position and wait for you to turn off the light and carry them.

There is no getting around the fact that feeding, watering, and cleaning require you to reach into your pigeon's enclosure, and if you can't do that while they are out (for example, if you feed in the morning before leaving for work) you can help them overcome their defensive response by talking them through what you are doing without reaching for the bird themself.

"It's food time. I need your dish." while reaching in only as far as needed to remove the dish, and withdrawing with it as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Same for the water dish, and talking them through cleaning.

For example, the floor of my hospital cages slide out, so I tell the birds "I need your floor." and then repeat "Back up, back up, back up" in a soft, encouraging tone until they are off, then praising with "Thank you!" to signify they have done what I asked and I will not bother them now until time to put the floor back in.

When the floor is cleaned and repapered, I tell them "Here's your floor back." and repeat "Step up." as I slide it in until they have both feet on the floor. 

When I have finished cleaning, watering, and feeding (All three get done at once for the hospital cages) I signify to the bird that it's over by "Ok! We're done now!" and then praising "Good bird! Thank you."

It's important to talk them through EVERYTHING because they are literally five-year-old-child intelligent.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

Pigeons and baboons have similarly high cognition.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons have an innate understanding of the concepts of space and time.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/02/070220131646.htm

They categorize like we do.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Their brains are wired similarly to ours.

https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/s13295-014-0057-5/html

So much so that they are considered an excellent model in the study of cognitive neuroscience

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0197458019304270

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432814007554

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0166432820306471

With TONS of alzheimer-specific research

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/04/110411171847.htm

Their facial recognition is similar to ours.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/07/110703132527.htm

They recognize humans as individuals.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/06/120622163056.htm

By both face, and voice.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

They surpass the ability of human children up to three years old to recognize that their reflection in a mirror is their own reflection, and not another bird.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

They can learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human children.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

They can learn to differentiate a written word from an acronym with the same number of letters.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/04/170418094512.htm

And flocks build what can legitimately be called a culture by building knowledge across generations.

The take away from this is that pigeons are intelligent enough to learn what your communication means, and can be taught by the same mechanic as a human toddler.

Language is a pattern of matching words to objects, actions, individuals, places, and concepts. Pigeons are pattern mappers, hard wired to latch onto stable patterns.

It is vitally important that you talk a pigeon that you are training through absolutely everything, the way you would a toddler who hasn't quite gotten that word down yet.

They can eventually learn to answer yes and no questions, if you give them a template. (this is already going to be enough of a novella, I can go into detail about that later.

A pigeon flock is basically one gigantic extended family living together in their equivalent of an ancestral apartment complex.

Pigeons only join a flock by hatching or marrying into it.

Pigeons are one of extremely few species that remain year round in the same breeding colony AND cooperatively forage; not just all going the same place, but actively voting on what to look for, how to best get there, and how to best get back.

Babies only rarely leave the flock. 

When they leave the nest, they are taught by their fathers to be pigeons for the first month or so. Where safe food and water are, how to find nest materials, how to defer to a higher ranking flock member. 

The rest of the flock line up to each teach the peep that they are higher ranking than the peep. (Peeps instinctively expect this hazing and are very skittish from five to eight weeks of age)

At about eight weeks, the peep is as big as it will get, and starts to earn their place in the hierarchy by experimentally pushing back against the older birds to see who gives and who won't.

 By four or five months, the young bird has a solid place in the hierarchy, has found out what it's good at, and has usually won a mate.

At this point, a cock earns the right to claim a nest space among his parents, grand kin, aunts, unkles, cousins, and so-on.

Young pigeons only leave their flock to form a new one if there aren't enough nest spaces or isn't enough food to support every one.

So stability and finding a place in the social dynamic are EXTREMELY important to them.

Pigeon Flocks are democratic meritocracies.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

They vote on everything they do as a group

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/11/061106145043.htm

Parties with differing opinions compromise.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Because they need to be able to depend on the support of their flock mates to cooperatively find resources, watch out for predators, and navigate home.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160914143044.htm

Pigeons will not follow a leader they can't depend on, be that due to a loss of capability, or an unwillingness to heed cast votes or attempt to compromise.

This adds up to a bird that is hard wired to expect a say in everything they are involved in and be keenly, my-life-depends-on-this aware when their say is being ignored.

Pigeons do not have a concept of “Reasons I could not discern”.

If they can’t discern a reason you ignored their vote or any attempt to compromise with them, they just think there wasn’t one, and you're either incompetent or being an ass hole. 

And Pigeons consider themselves to be well within their rights to refuse to cooperate with an incompetent ass hole.

This is a BIG part of why talking them through everything is so vitally important.

Pigeons are EXTREMELY communicative.

Once they trust you as a flock mate, The more they understand about what you are doing, what you want them to do, and how that affects them, the more willing they are to cooperate with you.

Those are the cognitive universals.

When selecting a companion or therapy animal, it’s important to know what temperament to expect, and the typical temperaments of Cocks and Hens differ pretty drastically!

We touched briefly on mate behaviors earlier, and now we need to go into that to explain sex-typical behaviors, by which I mean the instinctive behavioral and base line personality differences between typical cocks and hens.

To explain sex-typical behaviors, I have to walk you through the pigeon courtship ritual called Driving, which has three phases.

It starts with the Chase phase.

The cock struts up to a hen he'd interested in and alternately chest-bumps and bites her until she runs away.

He continues to strut after her, occasionally charging with a sweeping tail to push or bite her until she bursts into flight.

Hens will initiate for a cock they are EXTREMELY interested in, but in pigeon society, the hen having to initiate means the cock just is not remotely interested in her. 

This is less than ideal for the hen, and she will divorce him for the first cock that shows enough interest to initiate the chase.

Once they are in the air, the hen is trying to break away and flee, and the cock is trying to herd her towards the nest area he's picked out.

Ideally, she crashes into it, too exhausted to keep flying.

To a human, this looks really violently aggressive.

But the Rock Dove, from which our domestic pigeons descend, evolved in a Thompson's Gazelle vs. Cheetah style arms race with the Peregrine goddamn Falcon.

If the cock cannot out pace and out maneuver the hen, and his stamina is lower than hers, then her children by him will be slower and less maneuverable than she is, with lower stamina.

This all adds up, to her, as her peeps by this cock being easier than she is for a falcon to catch.

If she can get away from him, he is an inferior potential sire, and she will reject him.

The Wrestling phase begins after the hen has recovered her breath.

As soon as she can, she will try to blow past the cock and vanish into the sky.

He has to body block her to prevent her from leaving, grab her by the scruff if she tries to push past, and fight her until she stops trying to get up.

Again, this looks REALLY violently abusive to a human!

But nest location is a status symbol in pigeon society.

A good nest is high up, wide enough for two adult birds side by side, with an entrance ideally narrow enough for only one at a time to get in.

This also makes it really hard for a hawk, rodent, or snake to get in after the eggs, peeps, or parent defending them.

Other cocks will want a good, safe, defensible nest for their wife, and absolutely will kill nestlings to drive out a less fit pair, hoping to impress a (usually specific and very picky) potential mate.

If the cock cannot fight the generally smaller, weaker hen who just recovered from the Chase phase to prevent her getting out, he hasn't got a snowball's chance in hell of defending her from a healthy rival who wants that nest for his wife and peeps.

It's only after he's completed the Chase and Wrestling phases that she allows him to prove that he's an excellent forager by offering to feed her from his crop. (the kissing behavior that immediately precedes the act of treading.)

This translates VERY poorly to a human partner, and is what makes bottle raised baby boys such a monumental pain in the ass.

Pigeons are INTENSELY social.

The drive to bond is stronger than the drive to actually reproduce, so your bonded pigeon will treat you like a mate.

Which means that a cock will be compelled to attempt the initiation, chase, and wrestling phases of Driving.

Imprinting does not just make a specific person a baby bird's mommy.

It tells the bird what species it is and sets Mommy as the ideal mate.

A pigeon that thinks they are human expects their human to understand these instinctive pigeon behaviors.

Their human's failure to respond as expected comes across as ignoring them.

Which leads to human-imprinted pigeons going from trying to court their caretaker, to feeling intentionally ignored for no reason and attacking out of furious frustration.

This is why I don't hand raise nestlings unless the peep will die if I don't step in.

Pigeons who are parent-raised, but socialized by humans the way you would nursing puppies or kittens, understand that a human is not a pigeon.

Instead of expecting their caretaker to understand them by default and getting overwhelmed with frustration when they can't, a parent-raised, human-social pigeon tries to work out how to bridge the communication gap.

If your human-social cock approaches you and tries to start a fight out of the blue, he doesn't hate you.

He loves you, and is pulling out all stops to prove to a freaking KAIJU, via hand to hand combat, that he's strong enough to protect them and their nest.

I tell people that "Cock love is pinchy."

This is what I'm talking about.

Physical contact is a mate/baby-exclusive privilege for cocks.  Only his mate allopreens him, and he only allopreens his mate and their peeps.

Flock mates other than his mate only attempt to make physical contact with a cock to start a fight or ask for sex. 

So all associations for a cock, aside from mate and peeps, are rivalries and side-chicks.

Pigeon bites can't break the skin (all they can do is pinch), unless it's just a massive monster of a pigeon, but the tenacity sexually selected for by hens makes cocks relentless until they are satisfied that they have suitably impressed you.

Hens, in contrast, are approached by flock mates to proposition for sex, to engage in allopreening, or to invite to feed, bathe, or loaf together.

They are generally more cuddly, more forgiving of restraint (Joke's on you, she's into that shit!), and more accepting of other family members making contact with her.

Cocks who are satisfied with their relationship can be a lot of fun, but their nippiness can be an anxiety trigger if you don't know to expect it.

In order to consider himself bonded to his person, a cock has to feel he has impressed you, like he would be expected to impress a hen. 

It is much easier to convince a parent raised cock that you really are impressed and don't just see him as beneath your notice than it is to convince an Imprint.

Parent raised cocks will be more gentle when they initiate driving, as the drive is more like a compulsive need to complete a symbolic gesture for them than the actual hand to hand combat to manually overpower a titan that these matches are to an imprinted cock.

To convince a cock that he really has won your admiration fair and square, Start by putting up some resistance when he initiates. 

Push him back, shake your hand, ruffle and wrestle with him like you would a very small kitten.

You will need to do this WAY longer for an imprint than a parent raised bird, but when you want to wind down the match, pay attention to what he's doing.

He is never just biting.

He is trying to maneuver your hand either by tugging or shoving. 

Follow where he directs until he stops either pulling or pushing, and just pushes down. That is where he wants your hand to be. 

Relax it there until he turns away, then go about your business.

It will take a few sessions, but once he's satisfied he's impressed you, he'll have no need to go all out like that anymore.

Ankhou (an imprint who is extremely satisfied with a now five year long extremely stable relationship) doesn't engage in driving fights with me anymore, but we do have lots of brief, very gentle wrestling sessions.

Hens don't need human mates to impress them in hand to hand combat like they require a cock to.

They are intelligent enough to assume that nothing her size is going to stand a chance against something your size.

The peaceful simplicity of bonding with a hen tends to make them more desired as therapy and companion animals.

Bonded cocks are just as cuddly and sweet, but you have to go through his Driving impulse to get to that point with him.

This doesn't make cocks bad pets or therapy prospects, but they are definitely not the ideal match for everyone.

@tinysaurus-rex ‘s Battar is an excellent example of a bonded hen.

If you would like to see how his owner applies the constant biting of a feral Imprint towards physical therapy for nerve pain flair ups, check out the blog @homeofhousechickens and search for Loki.

They also have a parent raised, human social emotional support cock named Fluffernutter and have made a lot of great posts illustrating the contrast between imprinted pigeons and pigeons who were raised by their parents, but socialized with lots of gentle handling.

I hope this helps the people who have their bird’s physical needs planned out to pick the bird whose emotional needs they can best meet, and whose personality will best match their emotional needs. <3

[bubblegum-and-ciggarettes]

“I Am Not Starfire” Review

I would like to preface this by saying these are my own opinions and you are allowed to like/dislike this comic:)))

Okay, first off I’m getting straight to the point in that I did not like this graphic novel. The art and colors were nice and some of the concepts were good, but it was poorly executed and on the line of being harmful.

No, I do not mean “sjw” harmful in which the majority of backlash for this graphic novel came from. I don’t care that Mandy(Stars daughter) is a lesbian. And I don’t care that she’s overweight. In fact, I applaud the comic for at least not mentioning anything wrong with being lgbt and barely mentioning the fact that Mandy is overweight.

We need to learn that yes, addressing things like homophobia, racism, body shaming, sexism is an issue, but we need to normalize it in media and speak out about it in person. Even if catcalling, rape, homophobia is depicted as wrong in a comic, it still fuels that hatred from those people instead of normalizing these things. Hence why being called straight and white are “normal” to those hateful people. (Which I don’t agree with obviously.)

And on that note, THAT is why this comic is harmful. Not ONLY is Star slut shamed by her own daughter, who, btw, rags on Star not liking her appearance even though Star literally has not said anything about it and is supportive of her, but she’s also talked about how hot she is by other students/people in a degrading manner.

There’s nothing wrong with being sexy, but this comic both insults Star for being sexy while also tries to show being objectified is wrong bc the people who do so are assholes. You can call a character pretty without having at least one male character shout something gross, which leads back to my whole normalizing argument.

It is harmful for Mandy, the main character we’re supposed to be rooting for, to shame her own mother for dressing how she likes, and then complains her mother doesn’t like how she looks or acts. Which??? Star doesn’t??? She never says anything about Mandys weight, hair, attitude, or grades except for the fight about Mandy walking out of the SAT.

That’s not okay. You can’t have a character wanting to be excepted for who she is while hating on everyone else.

She literally has the “I’m not like other girls” attitude and that is the best way to describe it.

Probably doesn’t help she was made practically as a self insert by a woman who clearly doesn’t know how teenagers work and was cast aside during her high school years.

I mean, seriously? Having two popular kids be mean and talk about leggings and carbs while their most popular friend rolls their eyes? Which 2000 teen movie is this one from? And like, leggings have been in style for a while now. LuLu Lemon leggings? Ever heard of them? Literally every popular so called “basic” girl has them?

What would’ve been cool is to see Mandy grow out of her “I hate girls faze”, which, is a thing most girls go through in middle school/high school until they learn slut shaming isn’t okay. That would’ve been a nice way to reconcile with her mother. The realization that “oh shit I’ve been hating my mother because of what OTHER people think and say about her. I’ve been shaming her in my head for wearing “revealing” clothes because I’m mad at how other people flock to her while I’m an outcast.” Would’ve been way better.

And the whole Blackfire thing was super rushed, and brings more questions. Why didn’t Star just fight her? She clearly can. Star would never let Blackfire hurt anyone, let alone her daughter. And what’s the point of Mandy complaining shes different and won’t live up to expectations of the PEOPLE AROUND HER not her mother, if she does in the end? She didn’t NEED to get powers, even though it was pretty obvious she would. And it would’ve tied up the story nicely if she didn’t. Hell, Star doesn’t even WANT her to be a hero.

Lastly, the love interest. She was sweet, kind, popular, and accepting. Everything Star is. I thought maybe this graphic novel would have a part where Mandy is upset because she feels Star likes her crush as a better daughter than her, but, no. She’s just a sweet girl who’s way too good for Mandy. Their whole conflict was bc she posted a picture of her with the Titans, when it was established she always posts pictures of her face and is seemed to be outgoing. And she did it because of a dare? Like literally nothing was her own fault. And even if it was, she met a bunch of heroes. Who wouldn’t take a picture with them and post it?

Mandy should’ve seen her taking the photo right? So why didn’t she just say “hey please don’t post that right now?”

Also there’s the whole mystery of her father. Which both slightly slut shames Kori because of the possibilities but at the same time heavily implies Dick is her father. Why Dick wouldn’t stay with his own daughter or let her know? Idk.

In conclusion, this comic was very bad. Not because of Mandys appearance and sexual orientation, but because of her character. Her whole thing is “I’m not like other girls”, “it’s not a phase mom”, and “you just don’t understand me.” That’s the best way to sum up her character. Star was so sweet while she was bratty. Her love interest was like a mini Star who she loved even though they have the same personality and everything. Mandy never really learned anything until Star was presumed dead/badly injured by Blackfire. Mandy was rude, slut shamed Star, and was written by someone who doesn’t understand high school and hates the “popular” kids. Lovely art and colors, shitty writing and concepts.

Overall rating: 1/10. I really did not like this comic. Dick was the best part for me which I hope says a lot.

#dc #dc comics #robin #I am not starfire #dick Grayson #nightwing #starfire #kori anders #Mandy #mandy anders #mandy grayson???