#Agree to the walk

[lastoneout]

the whole guilt-tripping language in posts about important topics paired with how I'm still getting bitches in my notes talking about why it's actually good to tell "bad" people to kill themselves continues to prove to me that a lot of people have absolutely no concept of social justice or activism outside of assuming the worst of and then viciously attacking strangers on the internet

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

[greenbirdtrash]

casual swiss whenever aurora breaths in a 20km radius

[sketchehm]

Minecraft Presents:

[forecast0ctopus]

do u think they ever explored each others bodies

[intotheelliwoods]

Assorted Poptart in his viking fit doodles, + Scallione :)

[amaranthsynthesis]

meeting araj oblodra for the first time in act 2 vs running into her again in act 3

thanks for kickstarting some personal growth in the gayest disasters to leave the shadow-cursed lands this year but we’ve figured out consent AND commitment AND been honest and vulnerable and horribly intimate so fuck off, nyehhh

[thecrenellations]

Xiao Jingyan, Mei Changsu, and this post :)

[tapakah0]

Guys, I saw something and need to clarify somethig since someone might think the same, I don't beg for attention, I don't need attention (that's how I always lived, seriously, I am absolutely okay without any and I don't see anything wrong in not having any if it's not a work that demands it), a lot of posts constantly that just bury your dash might be annoying and that's why I've been telling to block me, not follow me, in fact a lot of attention exhausts me very quickly, all I do here I do for myself, I love what I do, I specifically don't put a lot of tags on some posts because I've been making them mostly for myself and someone specific (for them just to see it and know that I care and love what they do, not react on it. That's why I'm sometimes sad when people pressurely tell me that I didn't react on something they created for me or didn't interact with them, I'm deeply sorry, I can't answer on them all if I don't feel like it and hope you understand it) *polite bow*

I mean, guys, we all will walk on separated roads sooner or later, but for now I wanna have as much fun as I can 🧡

There are a lot of beautiful people over here who already told that they are okay with my chaos, but there might be some knew who will be confused XDDD

[andromeda3116]

i feel like a lot of Discourse (read: fandom wank) happens in places that have forgotten or never learned the death of the author theory

(which i know is not sacrosanct but it is very useful for handling fandom spaces, particularly fraught ones)

for those who don't know, the death of the author theory goes like this: as far as the work is concerned, the author dropped dead the second that the final word was published, and thus cannot comment, object to, clarify, or expand on anything that is not on the page.

my understanding is that it's most strictly used to mean that that the author's interpretation of the work doesn't matter, but can be expanded to state that nothing which is not on the page matters. imo, the expanded definition is particularly useful for fandoms and needs to be adopted on a larger scale.

because what it means is this:

it doesn't matter what the creator(s) intended. it doesn't matter what they said in an interview. it doesn't matter what the actors think, it doesn't matter what supplemental materials say or imply, even if they're signed off on by the creator(s). it doesn't matter if everyone involved in making it hates your interpretation and says that it's wrong.

they don't get to say that it's wrong. they dropped dead the second the last episode/book ended. their interpretation is simply one more in a vast sea of others.

listen to me, fandom spaces. i am taking your face in both of my hands. embrace the death of the author. you will no longer be bound to the (possibly fickle) words of the creator(s), your interpretation can no longer be the wrong one. if the text can be used to support it in any way, even twisty ways, it's valid. you don't have to jump through hoops to defend it against haters who say you're wrong.

the death of the author. open your heart to it. live it. be free.

[warlordfelwinter]

fiver after like 6 npcs tell him he needs the forum's permission to go to an island

[spacedlexi]

how do u think louis and violet felt about hearing gunshots 2 minutes after leaving clem and aj in the woods

[distressed-bird]

Kalina is the most interesting character to me because of all she has going on…

she is Cassandra’s familiar, she is simultaneously a pet and a friend and a servant and a family to a goddexx that is simultaneously her owner and friend and creator and parent and her god and reason to be—Kalina’s relationship to Cassandra is hard to put a name or label on (since what does being a familiar even mean?) but the bottomline is that this cat loves her deity enough to put everything and everyone on the line for her…

And adding in that she is a child of divorce. So to speak. I am extremely normal and haven’t been driven mad by the detail that baby itty bitty kitty Kalina was at Cassandra’s wedding to Ankarna and is remembered to have been toddling after her as she walked down the aisle…

Kalina will be the death of me /lh

[theloveinc]

bakugo technically can't stop you from having a job but he can pester you about not working overtime

[hiphopcherrrypop]

Would you draw some Jabashiri x Hagure fluff? Idk, just something where they are softies for each other ❤️

The brainrot is brainrotting

meoww

[seraqhites]

her strap slaps her thigh when she walks btw!!!!