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grainsofexcellence · 1 month
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Alright my first long-form full book is COMPLETE!
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Please enjoy the full tale of Unfortunately Famous :)
Publishing of this story is in progress!! Please follow this story/account and my socials below for Updates! Also, I might be working on a sequel. shh.
:D And I hope to catch you reading one of my other stories below.
Socials:
Twitter: pinkpillow19
Facebook: Pinkpillow19 (writer)
Tumblr: grainsofexcellence
Tiktok: realkelpy
SQ Writers Dischord: pinkpillow19/realkelpy
Other Pinkpillow19 Stories:
Middle of the Night
8
The Sisterhood
Regina's Baby Momma 
In The Garden: You Make Me Do Too Much Labour
Everything I Wanted
Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM
Regina Mills Is A Lesbian 
Love From Tehran
Tears From Gaza/Stripped From Gaza
Upcoming stories:
Safe Place (Gamer Related)
AI
Revised versions of 8 and Regina's Baby Momma
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115847/chapters/138204352
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jakeperalta · 7 months
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letting celebrities think they can and should "use their platform" to speak on all current events and political issues regardless of how educated they are on them was a grave mistake
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bubblesbinxs · 27 days
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it’s currently 2am where i am so technically 4th of april.. Happy 2 Years ISWM !!!!!!!
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fdelopera · 7 months
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Yo Gentiles! Looks like I'm going to need to give some of you a crash course on what antisemitic language looks like, because I've been seeing entirely too much of it from some of you here on Tumblr.
Now, I think it's time for a Jewish history lesson, because I've been seeing way too many Nazi-related conspiracy theories going around. If you hear contradictions to the basic information that I am about to share (i.e., if you hear someone saying that the Jewish people are "a race that originated in Europe"), it is likely that you are hearing a white supremacist, anti-Jewish conspiracy theory.
So, here's the basics of Jewish history. Jews are indigenous to the Levant have been there for thousands of years. The Levantine people that Jews descended from have been in that area of the Levant since the Bronze Age. Jews as a distinct people have been there since the Late Bronze Age. Before it was Palestine it was the Kingdom of Judah, then Judea, and then Judaea, and that is literally where we are from. The word Jew means "a person from the Kingdom of Judah." The Romans renamed the area Syria-Palaestina (which they borrowed from the Greek name Palestina) in the 2nd century CE after destroying the Second Temple in Jerusalem and leading another campaign to try to eradicate the Jewish people (guess what, we're still here, motherfuckers).
And even after the Romans tried to annihilate us, even after they scattered many of us into European diaspora, many Jews came back, again and again over the ages, and there have nearly always been Jewish communities in the region throughout history.
And if you come for me or try to dispute any of this history with white supremacist bullshit, I am a Jew who has studied way more Jewish history than you. And as politely as possible, you can take your white supremacist conspiracy theories and fuck off into the sun.
Okay, with all that out of the way, let's get into it!
Gloves are coming off, because this is just a sampling of the Nazi dogwhistles I've been seeing here on Tumblr about the Jewish civilians who were tortured, murdered, and worse:
- If you say shit like, "The Jews got what they deserved"...
GUESS WHAT? You're talking like a white supremacist, and you need to fucking check yourself.
- And if, on the other hand, you say shit like, "The reports were probably overblown. I think those were paid actors. I don't think those Jews were murdered. No Jewish children were killed. No Jewish bodies were desecrated" blahblahblah...
GUESS WHAT? You get to sit with the Nazis at their table for lunch.
- If you tell Jews "go back to Europe where you came from"...
GUESS WHAT? Not only are you telling the descendants of Jewish refugees to go back to the Spanish Inquisition, the Russian pogroms, and the Nazi gas chambers, as I explained in this post, but you are also repeating a white supremacist conspiracy theory about the origins of European Jews.
Jews are a Levantine people from the area of the Middle East currently called Israel (formerly called the Kingdom of Judah, and then Judea). While there was some emigration to Europe during the late Roman Republic and the early days of the Roman Empire, the first mass migration of Jews to Europe was a forced migration. Gentiles from the Roman Empire dragged us there as captives after 70 CE, the year Rome destroyed the Second Temple.
- And if you're telling yourself that there are "good Jews" and "bad Jews," and those Jewish civilians were "bad Jews," so they deserved to be tortured and killed...
GUESS WHAT? You're spouting white supremacist ideology.
Antisemitism takes a long time to deprogram.
A lot of gentiles grow up with anti-Jewish ideology that they have never questioned.
And a lot of Christians are kept ignorant about Jewish history because preachers and priests fear it would make Christians question the many inaccuracies in the Bible.
But the first step in noticing antisemitic beliefs is to notice when you start singling people out *because* they are Jewish.
And I have been seeing some of you gleefully celebrating the murder of Jewish civilians *because* they are Jewish.
And that is antisemitism.
That is one step closer to the next generation of Jews getting shoved into the gas chambers. And there are only 16 million of us left in the entire world. We're 0.2% of the world's population. And we cannot afford another Holocaust.
And if your response to me saying that is, "Well, those Jews deserve it."
Guess what. You are making it easier for Nazis and white supremacists to spread hatred and commit acts of violence against Jewish people. And you will have to live with that blood on your conscience.
So...
If you are a gentile, and you see other gentiles repeating these kinds of white supremacist dogwhistles about Jewish people, here's how you can help:
1. MOST IMPORTANTLY: Help them direct their focus away from attacking random Jewish people online and towards helping Palestinians.
Actions that people can take right now are contributing to verified charities and relief organizations that help the people of Gaza. Some organizations that are verified by CharityNavigator.org and CharityWatch.org are:
Anera (92% rating on Charity Navigator)
Palestine Children's Relief Fund (97% rating on Charity Navigator)
Doctors Without Borders (98% on Charity Navigator)
2. Call that shit out. Tell people that they're being antisemitic, and explain that Jew-hatred is dangerous to Jewish people. Antisemitism gets Jews attacked and it gets Jews killed. In the US, many synagogues require round the clock security to protect against white supremacists who want to murder Jews. In Pittsburgh, my old home town, a group of Nazis from north of the city planned the murder of Jewish congregants at Tree of Life Synagogue, and so far only one of them (the gunman) has been arrested and convicted of the murders. The others are still at large.
3. Explain to them that it is antisemitic to celebrate someone's death *because* they're Jewish. ALSO, it is antisemitic to blame a random Jewish person for the actions of ANY government, whether that be the Israeli Government or the US Government.
4. Explain to people that they're not going to solve this conflict by posting antisemitic statements and memes online. All they will do is alienate the Jewish people in their lives and make those Jews feel scared and unsafe. And they will contribute to this current wave of antisemitism.
Antisemitic hatred doesn't help Palestinians. All it does is put Jewish people around the world in danger.
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cfeather · 1 year
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light upon the sea
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daboychik · 1 year
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Ever Wonder What It Takes to Make a Pop Singer a Star?
  With the Grammy Awards – Music’s Biggest Night – set to take place on February 5th, it’s the perfect time to talk about how a music celebrity – like Beyonce´ and Lady Gaga – finally makes it! A new book – “Mick & Moira & Brad: A Romantic Comedy,” by award-winning author Gerald Everett Jones, is rich with insights into “the biz” – which includes Hollywood and especially the music industry. The…
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growingexjocks · 8 months
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Alex/Alan Stokes Fattening Up
Wow! Seems like Alan is also starting to chunk up more! And Alex looks bigger than ever!
Update: Added new pics of Alex wearing a tight shirt!
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If you like this, you should read the gainer fic I wrote about them here! I took inspiration from Alex's actual real weight gain and pictures:
Fattening the Competition (Alex/Alan Stokes)
- Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Congratulations to Dungeon Meshi on the first episode of the animation adaptation!
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notafunkiller · 4 months
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not made of glass
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Summary: After shopping for your Christmas tree and running into an old acquaintance, Bucky's mood completely changes.
Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 36), degrading, praising, chokíng, teasing, dirty talk, language, pet names, come eating, jealousy, a little metal arm kínk, daddy kínk, no condom (but they are both clean and r is on birth control), implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.3K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: An extra thank you @lavenderhaze967​ for her help and support!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
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He’s sulking. You don’t know what happened since you came from the tree shopping, but he’s been like this for hours.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can try to take over,” you offer for the fourth time from the living room.
You don’t know how to cook. And even if you tried, you wouldn’t be as good as him, but you don’t want him to do it if he doesn’t feel alright.
“No, no, it’s fine.”
You sigh when you hear his voice. He sounds so off... but he refuses to tell you what’s happening, and you can’t push him more. Maybe it’s work.
“Bucky, you know you don’t have to do anything, right? We can order something. If you don’t feel like it, I can even...” But you pause, knowing better than to continue the sentence. Both: give you some space or leave you alone for a bit would be wrong. “Did something happen? With the project I mean.”
You drop the ornament on the couch and make your way to the kitchen.
Without waiting for him to answer, you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pulling his back even tighter against your chest.
The Christmas tree and the food can wait. And you definitely don’t care about his covered in flour apron. You just want him to know you’re there.
You feel him tense for a few seconds, but you don’t move, instead you place your palms on his chest and hug him harder. That’s when he melts, his shoulders dropping a little. You smile before leaving a small kiss below the back of his neck.
“Who made you mad? Who do I kick?”
“I’m not... I told you I’m not mad,” he murmurs, but you don’t buy it.
“Ever since we bought the tree, you’ve been acting strange. You’re so tense, bubba.”
Bucky sighs, shaking his head at the same time as he decides to cover your hands with his. They’re warm and a little sweaty.
“I am just nervous about the food. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Did I do something wrong? Tell me, don’t lie to me when I clearly want to solve this.”
You take a step back, upset, dropping your hands. This is not going to be a good conversation if he isn’t going to really talk. You don’t even know what you did wrong.
“Hey, hey! You didn’t do anything wrong. I am so sorry, but it’s really-”
“If you say it’s nothing one more time!” You snap, unable to keep your voice down. You don’t want to fight with him, you never do. It’s the worst feeling in the world, but he refuses to share. He is so stubborn!
“I am sorry.”
“Just tell me what happened. What made your mood change like that?”
“It’s silly,” he says, wiping his hands on his apron. “Nothing happened. Just... you know, it happens.”
Of course mood changes can just happen, but, in his case, unless it’s something that is really bothering him, it doesn’t last for so long. And he always talked to you about it, so it must be something you did.
“Did I do something Bucky? Did you,” you bite your lip when you feel yourself starting to get teary. You’re not going to be a cry baby. “Feel embarrassed by me?”
He jumps, bringing his hands to cup your face gently. You don’t move, enjoying his touch so much. “Bubba, no! No, no, no. I told you, you’re perfect. Fuck,” he curses, looking away. “I should be the one asking you that... if you feel embarrassed to be seen with me”
“What?”
“When we met with your... friend. I know we talked about our age difference before and all of that, but-”
You interrupt him before he can finish that sentence, still shocked. He was sulking for hours because he thought you’re unhappy to be seen with him all of a sudden? “When have I ever been embarrassed to be seen with you, bubba? I thought I made my feelings quite clear from the beginning. Did I say something today to make you feel this way?”
You’re trying to remember anything that could have triggered this type of thought, any gesture... anything, but you genuinely can’t find anything.
“This is the thing... you didn’t. You were just yourself: sweet, funny, and amazing. You reunited with your friend and all I could think was how much I want to...” He closes his eyes as if he’s fighting something inside his mind.
“Wanted to do what?” You push him to continue, happy he is finally opening up. You hate when you don’t know what he’s thinking about because you can’t reassure him like this.
“I’m a jerk, baby. I wanted to wipe off the smile on his face and take you to the car to fuck you. It’s immature, I know.” He brings his hands to his hair and he pulls. And pulls. “But I’ve never had this urge before. It was eating me alive.”
“You were jealous of Mickey?”
“I was, yeah,” he admits immediately. “The way he looked at you, the familiarity, the jokes... you giggled at his comments, and I thought I am gonna make a scene right there and then fuck you until you’re so full with my come you start dripping.”
That surprises you even more. You didn’t expect him to be jealous, especially not on this level since he’s always calm and collected, and you’re the one going crazy. And him wanting to fuck you with this urgency? It makes it even more interesting.
“He smiled quite a lot, didn’t he?” You bring your hand casually to his chest again. “Well, we know each other after all. He was one of my professors’ assistant, remember?”
Oh, how can he forget?
“Yeah, I remember very well, baby, trust me.”
“Should I tell you a little secret?” You move your fingers up until they reach his bottom lip. You want to distract him, to push him to get what he wants, ao you can see more of this side of him. “I kinda had a crush on him. He was like the hottest guy in my classes, you know?”
She immediately notices a flicker of darkness in his eyes, as if she’s just touched a nerve.
“You had a crush on him, huh?” He asks through his teeth, but not aggressively at all, more like challenging. He probably knows what you’re trying to do, but he still responds.
“Yep.” You grin playfully. “A huge one. My first real crush to be honest.”
“You’re enjoying this.” Bucky shakes his head, smiling.
“I don’t enjoy you thinking I’d be embarrassed to be seen with you.”
Surprisingly, he grabs your waist, pulling you toward him. You whimper when your breasts crush against his chest but stay still.
“You know exactly what I meant, don’t play.”
“And I see your mood changed all of a sudden.”
“Are you horny because I got jealous? Is that it, baby? You want me to-”
You groan, interrupting him, as you move your hips a little to meet his.
“I am horny because you were so close to going feral on me.”
Bucky smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve seen him smile before. It’s playful in a different way, as if he’s hiding something, and the fact you’re in the dark brings him endless satisfaction. Then he grabs your cheeks with his left hand, the coldness making you jump a little.
“You wanted me to go feral on you, huh?”
You don’t let him enjoy the moment for too long as you cover his hand just to move it lower until it rests on your neck, nothing you’ve never done before. But he surprises you again by actually squeezing the sides teasingly without taking his eyes off you.
You can’t help but whimper. You’ve wanted him to choke you for so long, but you didn’t want to push. It looks like he did too.
“Want you to go feral on me now too.”
You expect him to tease a bit longer, maybe even make you beg for it, but he doesn’t. He quickly rips your shirt in half, buttons flying eveywhere in the room, but he doesn’t give a fuck.
At least you aren’t wearing a bra, otherwise it would be ripped, too.
He’s not gentle when he turns you around by your hair, and you groan, the pain bringing pleasure, when you feel his fingers close to your roots. Your knees are suddenly weak too, but his grip on your waist as he pushes down your pants and panties at the same time keeps you on your feet.
He’s never been so fierce with you... always so careful. But you wanted this. You craved this.
“You’re gonna get it, don’t worry.” He pulls your hair again, and you moan. “Gonna make you my comeslut in a sec. Walk.”
You don’t say anything as you move to the living room quickly, with his hand still in your hair. You step out of pants and panties right before you reach the threshold. You don’t him to slow down, you want him to fuck you the way he craved it when you ran into Mickey.
“Hands and knees.”
You turn your head as much as his grip allows it and smile. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll consider it since you held back today. Why should I-”
But he doesn’t let you even finish your sentence as he is pulling your hair to guide you down. He’s not even doing it hard, but it makes you so wet. You love this side so fucking much.
“I’d advise you to do what you’re told.”
Even his tone is more demanding and deeper. You close your eyes and, despite your urge to be a brat again, you get on hands and knees as he told you. You want his cock more than anything.
“Like this?” You tilt your head enough so he can see your smirk, knowing the patronizing tone will drive him crazier.
“Need to fuck the attitude out of you, don’t I?” He smiles back, lowering his sweatpants. You turn your head, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you blush.
“You can try, but we both know that’s-”
He’s not just at your entrance, he’s pushing inside you.
You gasp, surprised he did this without warning you.
“You okay?”
You nod, hoping he can see you, when he grabs your ass. He pushed only a bit, waiting for your approval.
“Bubba?” He whispers, and you can sense the worry in his voice. But you’re really wet and horny, and you want to be fucked.
“F-fine. I’m fine, keep going. Please.”
“Who?”
“James?” You try, unsure, feeling him getting inside you deeper and deeper.
“Sweetheart, that’s not what you usually like to call me, is it? Don’t lie to yourself.”
“W-what?” The way he’s filling you makes it impossible for you to focus. You can barely breathe properly.
“Aren’t you a comeslut for daddy? Why do you prolong your suffering?”
“I’m not...” you whimper, playing around. “I’m not a comeslut.”
“You’re right, you’re not. Yet.”
He starts thrusting pretty slowly, probably wanting to make sure you’re getting used to it, but his hand in your hair shows you that things aren’t going to be so tame for long.
“God, look how fucking wet you are, doll. Taking me so well, hungry for my cock.”
You whimper, thrusting your ass back because, as he speaks, he slips out of you completely, letting you empty.
“Daddy, please.”
You don’t care if your neediness is evident in your voice, Bucky already knows you’re desperate for him. And after he’s been sulking and refusing to tell you why, he owes you this.
“What?”
“Come on, fuck me. Gimmie... gimmie your cock. Pound me. Didn’t you say you were gonna go feral?”
He doesn’t need another invitation, and you realize immediately he is not going to hold back as he grabs your hips with more force than before and slams inside you. His balls hit your clit over and over again, and you moan even louder, tilting your head so he can get the hint you want him to pull your hair. But he ignores it.
He continues to fuck you without stopping, making sure to almost pull out completely a couple of times just to push back in hard, driving you crazy.
“A crush, huh? Your first real crush.” He sneaks his metal arm under your body and squeezes one of your breasts.
Jesus!
“B-Bucky!”
“Try again or I stop right fucking now. I’ll use your mouth, and you won’t get to come.”
You gasp and almost tell him he wouldn’t dare, but wouldn’t he?
“D-daddy, please. I love you.”
Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s smiling.
“Do you?”
“So much, please don’t stop.”
He’s slowing down a little so you can speak, matching his thrusts with the way he is playing with your breasts.
“You’re so adorable when you’re cockdrunk. But should I-”
“Please, I had a crush on you too.”
When he frees your breast, you want to scream. You didn’t lie, and he knew it. You had a huge crush on him as you were filming, but it was innocent and cute. The dirty thoughts started after, so why is he so annoying?
He doesn’t drop his hand, though. He moves it higher, wrapping it around your neck.
“That’s it?” He playfully squeezes the sides of your neck, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. He knows exactly what buttons to push, and the more you fuck, the better it gets. “Just a crush?”
“I love you, daddy. And I need it faster, please.”
He doesn’t just fuck you faster as you want, he also somehow fucks you deeper, his fingers tightening instinctively on your hips. You’re a moaning mess at this point, unable to say anything else but his name, and even that comes out stuttered.
You can barely keep your head straight when he starts really choking you. You expect to feel like you’re suffocating, some panic or discomfort, but his cold grip on your neck only makes it hard for you to focus on anything... impossible to think, and a little dizzy.
“You’re a fucking tease, aren’t you?”
Tears. You feel many tears leaving hot trails on your cheek. You can’t even open your eyes.
“You just wanted to be pounded so hard that you taunted daddy with his jealousy. Bad girl.”
You’re so, so close, you can barely even hear him. Your ears are ringing and you moan loudly. You have no idea how he even can speak.
“Fuck,” he whimpers when you unconsciously move your hips back to meet his thrusts, desperate for more before he slaps your ass twice. The moan you let out is so high pitched even you are surprised. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You’re a whore for a bit of pain.”
You are. You love it with him because you trust him. You know he’d never go too far even when he’s wild and crazy like this. And that only turns you on more and more. You’re so close that you can almost taste it.
“But you’re my little baby, aren’t you? I’m the one y-you need. Fuck!”
You’re screaming before he can even finish speaking as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced takes over your body. It’s a blinding pleasure you can feel everywhere: from your pussy to your head and even fingers. And the way he keeps thrusting in and out of you at the same speed prolongs it.
“D-daddy, please,” you groan when the pleasure turns into sensitivity. You want him to feel at least half as good as you do. You try to open your eyes as you tilt your head back so he can see you, but the tears make your sight blurry. “Please... c-come inside me. Give me your come, fill me up, I neeeed it.”
And while he moans your name, he does, making you realize he’s been really holding back his release all this time. He drops his hand from your neck just to grab a handful of your tit and squeeze as he comes. And comes. And comes.
“Jesus, d-doll. Take my come. Got so much for you. So, so much.”
You love how feral he is, how it feels to be used like this. You want to be his toy.
“Thank you, daddy. Thank you for your come.”
You feel the pressure and weight of his chest pressing against your back, but he doesn’t let go of your breast, fondling it gently.
“Fuck, this was...” He doesn’t even finish his sentence, trying to catch his breath. You are both sweaty and warm, but you don’t care. You love being so close to him.
“This was so fucking good, bubba. Why did you hold back all this time?”
He doesn’t answer straight away, instead he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to the middle of your back, rising at the same time.
“Didn’t want to hurt you, bubba.”
“Told you I am not made of glass!” You try to stand up, too, but your knees are so wobbly that Bucky has to help you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist. You feel his come start to drip out little by little and you moan, scooping some of the come with two fingers and then bringing it to your lips.
You whimper the moment you get a taste, looking at Bucky to show him exactly how you feel about it. Quickly, you bring your index finger that is still covered in come to his lips, wanting to share with him.
Without hesitation, he opens his mouth, letting you smear some come on his tongue before he cleans it all by lapping at your finger.
You smile. “Promise you won’t hold back, and that you’ll talk to me the next time you feel like this. I could never be embarrassed by you or to be seen with you, bubba. You’re my baby, okay?”
Bucky smiles too, letting your finger out of his mouth with a pop. “I’m sorry, you’re right. And you’re my baby, too.”
“I know, but I was scared I did something really wrong and I didn’t...”
You don’t know how to continue, but you don’t have to as he pulls you into a tight hug, your head resting against his chest.
“I am sorry. I let the jealousy blind me because I felt insecure. I sometimes wonder if I’m enough for you.”
“Enough?” You sigh, kissing him all over his chest T-shirt. “You are everything, and you make me so happy. Please, don’t ever doubt that!”
“I’ll try, bubba, and thank you.” You feel his lips on top of your head, so you close your eyes, enjoying this moment. You’re gonna show him how much he means to you even more. “Do you feel sore?”
“A little,” you snort. “But it was soooo worth it. We have to do that again. Gosh, and the way you choked me, Mr. Barnes!”
He starts laughing at your tone, which makes you laugh too. This is your Bucky. You love him so much that you wish you could take away all of his fears and second thoughts. He is yours, and you are his.
“Noted, baby. You’re not made of glass.”
“Nope.” You break the hug just to take a step back and look around. You made a mess, and you haven’t even finished with the Christmas tree.
It’s gonna be a long evening.
“Gonna run you a bath, then we can continue with,” he waves around. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
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lyralit · 7 months
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reminder:
you're allowed to be proud of your accomplishments.
you're allowed to think you're pretty, or smart, or funny.
you're allowed to be good at things.
you're allowed to voice your opinion.
you're allowed to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.
you're allowed to not know what you want to do.
you're allowed to change your mind.
you're allowed to want things.
you're allowed to cry and break down.
you're allowed to be disappointed when things don't go your way.
you're allowed to love the way you love.
you're allowed to dream.
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heymacy · 1 month
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IAN GALLAGHER + his journey with bipolar disorder
╰┈➤ “At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of." - Carrie Fisher
#happy world bipolar day to all my bp babies#(more thoughts at the end of the tags)#shameless#shamelessnet#shamelessedit#ian gallagher#cameron monaghan#*macygifs#bipolar disorder#hello pals how are we doin#i made this gif set in july of 2023 and never posted it because 1) i was terrified to share it and potentially see Bad Takes in the tags#and 2) because my hyperfixation was waning. and while both of those things are still mostly true (the fixation comes and goes)#i feel like it's really important to share as ian's bipolar storyline was not only so vital to his character it was a bit of representation#that isn't often given to the disorder and those (like myself) who live with it every single day#world bipolar day is a day where we can both celebrate ourselves and our resilience and also raise awareness of the reality of the disorder#which is both terrifying and beautiful at its core. this disease is not a death sentence or a sentence to an unfulfilled and miserable life#while there are challenges galore when it comes to balancing life with this disorder it IS possible to live a full and productive life#and i think it's really important to have representation of that in media - and while shameless dropped the ball on a LOT of storylines#over the years THIS is the one they really fucking nailed and i am incredibly grateful#i first started watching shameless while in the midst of a major depressive episode and i was later (finally) diagnosed during an extended#hypo/manic episode - this show and ian's storyline got me through so much and made me feel so seen and validated in my struggles#world bipolar day is also vincent van gogh's birthday (happy birthday buddy) who was posthumously diagnosed with bipolar disorder#and who experienced both depressive and hypo/manic episodes during his lifetime (and was regularly institutionalized)#it takes a lot of help and support to keep us going. it takes the support of our family and friends and *most* of all#it takes patience and kindness and understanding - which is so so so easy to give if you are willing to love and listen#so please. be willing. listen to our stories. be patient with us. show us love without conditions. support us in any way you can.#we are worth it#i promise#anyway. that's really all i wanted to say. happy world bipolar day to those who celebrate (me) and may all of us living with this disorder#go on to live happy fulfilling beautiful magical lives
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grainsofexcellence · 2 months
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Update! One more chapter to go
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Second to last fluffy chapter before the Epilogue and the story is comeplete. I hope yall drop your reviews and enjoy the rest of the piece. <3
https://archiveofourown.org/.../23115847/chapters/137768596
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(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)
When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.
It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.
"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."
"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."
"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."
"Eddie, c'mon-"
"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."
He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.
"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"
"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."
"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."
Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."
"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."
"No."
Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-
"Eddie? Gareth?"
Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:
"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."
She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.
"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."
Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?
"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"
She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."
His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.
"You're annoying."
He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…
It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.
His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…
"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.
"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."
"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."
She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.
"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"
Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!
"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"
"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.
(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)
Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"
"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"
"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."
"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.
She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."
Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…
Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.
"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"
Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.
"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"
"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"
Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."
Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."
"I had stuff I needed to drop off."
"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."
Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.
Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.
"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"
Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?
"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"
Holyshityesitis!
"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."
"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"
"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!
"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.
Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."
Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.
They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.
The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.
The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."
"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"
Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.
"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.
Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.
"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.
This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.
"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.
Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."
"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.
"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.
"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.
Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."
"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."
He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.
(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)
Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.
"I figured out where I've seen you before."
Eddie stiffens.
Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"
"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"
Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.
"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"
"November," Steve confirms, muffled.
"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."
Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.
"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"
"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!
"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."
"All parents do," Lucas says.
Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"
Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."
That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.
And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…
All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.
Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.
The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:
"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"
"Huh?"
"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."
The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"Yes, it is," Gareth says.
"It's not," Max says.
"It is!"
"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"
She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.
Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."
"Yes, it was."
"How do you know?"
She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.
Gareth screams, "WHAT!"
"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"
She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."
"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"
"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"
She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"
Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?
Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.
Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"
"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.
Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."
"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.
Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.
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Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,
I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.
Thank you for reading 🖤
Part 4
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emberfaye · 20 days
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You know what?
I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.
I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)
I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.
I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.
I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.
I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.
I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.
I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.
I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.
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cyarskaren52 · 3 months
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summerlinenss · 4 months
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here’s the thing.
if you’re one of the people celebrating our flag means death’s cancellation for whatever reason right now, i need you to realize that this is just a sign that whatever you love is next.
and i’m not saying that out of spite. having your favourite show cancelled is awful, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone. but if our little-gay-pirate-show-that-could can’t get its third and final season, the future of queer media is extremely grim.
ofmd was the definition of a sleeper hit. hbo max had no faith in it when the first season came out. it gained popularity purely through word-of-mouth. but it became one of max’s biggest shows, and it’s since been marketed as their flagship series.
it was the #1 most in-demand series in the world for 8 weeks (7 of those weeks consecutively). it’s currently in the 99.7th percentile of the comedy genre, meaning it’s in higher demand than 99.7% of all comedy series in the u.s. it has a 94% audience and critics score on rotten tomatoes. it’s the most in-demand hbo original series even above euphoria, succession, and the last of us.
it was nominated for 16 awards for the first season alone, including a GLAAD award and a peabody award. the second season was just nominated for an art directors guild award, which it was previously nominated for and won in the same category for season one.
besides awards, ofmd is critically-acclaimed and praised for its representation (including a cast of majority queer, bipoc, and disabled characters) and themes of anti-colonialism, challenging gender norms/toxic masculinity, and self-discovery/acceptance. it also has a diverse team of directors and writers consisting of several bipoc, women, and queer/trans/non-binary people.
on top of all of this, the plan for the show all along was only ever for three seasons. david jenkins only wanted three seasons for the full romcom structure to tell ed and stede’s story. that’s it. nothing more.
this isn’t an attempt to make you care about the show. but ofmd’s cancellation isn’t just a loss for the fanbase and the cast/crew. it’s a sign that it does not matter how successful or profitable shows highlighting lgbtq+ (or otherwise inclusive) narratives are or how many big names are involved. ofmd would not have been cancelled if it were a straight romcom. they would’ve magically found the budget. but corporate greed doesn’t care about us. they have no respect for queer people or queer media. and in the age of streaming, it’s only a matter of time until we lose all of it.
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