#BASHES HEAD THROUGH BRICKS

[aft3rmidknight]

i find it a little bit funny that anytime something drastic happens to either buck or eddie, the other does something abnormal to contribute

"oh you sued the fire department forcing us to not see eachother? sure whatever man" >eddie joins a fight club then almost kills someone

"oh you're leaving the 118? that's perfectly fine for your mental health :)" >buck cheats on his girlfriend

"oh you recently found out you're bisexual and now have a boyfriend? so proud of you man!" >eddie cheats on his girlfriend with a doppelganger of his dead ex wife causing chris to leave the state

"oh you're currently deciding if you should move to el paso for chris? whatever you have to do for your child :)" >interviews hint that buck is going back to 1.0 days to cope with eddie leaving

[hymen-restoration-project]

HELP???

[rad-roche]

picked up a couple books. so help me god this WILL be the year i figure out sequential art AAAAAAAA

[sporesgalaxy]

btw i think of this every day forever

[hotchology]

garcia calling elle sunshine i just cried

[screensaver-png]

Played through the enemy within for the third time today

[mochapanda]

kris doesnt need to also wear traditionally feminine clothing to be nonbinary but i would like to see them express themselves more than just. brothers sweater. and assigned dark world uniform.

[cowboy-heart]

'BUTCH MANIFESTO'

inspired by 'FEMME SHARK MANIFESTO' by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

(ID under cut)

Ko-Fi (Commissions Open!)

[ID: an original poem titled 'BUTCH MANIFESTO'. the stanzas are all on the left side of the page and lineated, except for the first line, and last stanza. Poem begins:

Listen up! Butches hold it down! We don’t spend hundreds of pounds on designer clothes and black and white tuxes – we shop off the charity shop rack, hand-me-downs from our bois, our men, our women. Butch is not a glamour word - Butch is not for the white collars in their 9-5 and their office parties, Butch is not for the woman in a police uniform with short cropped hair, Butch is not for the masc who looks down on our femmes, Butch is not for the dumbass white people who call themselves stud, like our people haven’t taken enough from black lesbians, Butch is not for the politician or the soldier, it’s for those of us who get shit done and don’t throw anyone under the bus; who stand between our loved ones and the white-knuckled fist; it’s for the people who take a breath of relief when they get home and get to lay their head on the shoulder of their baby and say, it’s hard, and I need you right now; it’s for those of us with hard-soled feet, worn by hours of standing, just so people can buy some useless shit on a Sunday. Butch is for the primary school teachers, the neighbour keeping your package safe, the hairstylist, the barber, the youth worker, the locked up, the sectioned, the evicted, the boy on the dole. Butches hold each other up, Butches stand up for communities, no matter how different we might be.

Butches stand up for Butches, because only we know the shit we face, we don’t argue over what butch looks like for someone - their struggle doesn’t counteract ours. We’re brothers, sisters, siblings, lovers, mentors, we don’t fight over femmes or fight each other. We help up our siblings who can’t hold themselves up and shouldn’t have to.

Butch is recognising our hurt, our pain, and making sure nobody has to go through that, in the very least not alone. Butch is not reproducing that hurt, butch isn’t the transfem exclusion, the toxicity, it’s driving our girls and boys to the abortion clinic, it’s holding your femme’s hair back over the toilet bowl, it’s telling your darlin’ to take a deep breath, before you poke the needle into her thigh, it’s holding back on punching the catcaller because you know it’ll put your lover in more danger, it’s fishing in your closet for an old, dusty dress for your questioning girl, it’s never calling the cops, it’s carrying the Narcan, it’s gathering the funds for bail, it’s tipping the waiter, it’s kissing the bruised chin of a fellow butch who’s built like a brick shithouse.

Butch is not all muscle, able-bodied, white Butch is not all skinny and androgynous Butch is care Butch is NURTURE. Butch is a cane and an unsteady step Butch is putting down the ramp Butch is wheeling up it Butch is addict Butch is straight-edge Butch is diaspora Butch is desi Butch is antiracist Butch is socialist Butch is punk Butch is black Butch is brown Butch is fat Butch is fat-loving Butch is mental illness Butch is antipsych Butch is autism Butch is trans Butch is anger Butch is tears Butch is grief Butch is the old bull Butch is the closeted kid in a dress Butch is the baby dyke wearing a rainbow flag cape Butch is smile lines Butch is crinkled eyes Butch is crying in your friend’s beat-up car Butch is foetal position Butch is pink Butch is motherhood Butch is fatherhood Butch is cat-dad Butch is fucking Butch is getting fucked Butch is stone Butch is bashful Butch is humble Butch is cocky Butch is proud Butch is single Butch is uneducated Butch is poet Butch is poetry Butch is council estate Butch is gentleness Butch is bones and spit and the soft curve of our lower backs the clenched jaw under a double chin the hard-eyes that any femme can see right through the estradiol the testosterone the carabiner clink the thick hands the cellulite the bloody pads the tampon string the mood swings the sagging tits the top surgery scars the swinging cock the hairy pussy the protruding t-dick the leather harness.

Butch is eternity Butch is sewn into the fabric of atoms Butch is love and solidarity Butch is never leaving anyone behind and never selling anyone out.

End poem. In the bottom right corner, the poet is signed as 'Ren H.' End ID].

[aimasup]

prev tags below!

banging my head against a brick wall Maybe this is what happens when you grow up you feel less joy. maybethis is what happens when you grow up you feelless joy. maybe this is what happens when you grow up youfeell less j

[bigscotman]

Fic idea: You know that time Bane killed Alfred? It spreads around Gotham the Bane killed Bruce Wayne's kindly old butler in front of Batman to get to him, Gothamites as usual assume anything other than Bruce being Batman (Alfred was The Batman's actual father and raised him and Bruce together obviously), and the batfam collectively loses their shit and are all about as brutal as Bruce was when Jason died. Jason on the other hand is as clinical as usual as Red Hood which everyone finds odd since he was arguably the closest to the old butler even if you include Bruce.

Then one day shortly after Alfred's funeral as the batfam sans Jason are depressedly flicking through TV channels they flick onto the news and what do they see?

Jason is in his "Prince of Gotham" suit sans mask and domino at what looks like a press conference outside of the WE building and after answering a few cursory questions about what he's doing and how everyone is coping with Alfred's murder then Jason stares directly into the camera and challenges Bane to a fight, no weapons, just straight hands and to the death. He then says to meet him at Gotham stadium and says to be there at noon a week from then.

Everyone in Gotham, especially the Batfam, is quite honestly terrified for him and about this because sure he's built like a brick shithouse now and it's an open secret that he's the Red Hood but this is *Bane* and he has just gotten on live TV and challenged him to basically a boxing match to the death. Throughout the entire time leading up to it everyone is trying to dissuade him in various ways but he remains firm.

Then the date comes and the stadium is absolutely packed and being watched by a few tens of millions live on TV (how is Jason allowed to broadcast what most people think will be his swift bloody execution at midday? He doesn't know, ask Tim.) and then we see Jason and Bane in opposite corners of the ring. Bane is in his usual attire and still being supplied with Venom as usual and Jason is in wonder woman sweats with some unholy combination of combat boots and slippers and no shirt, baring all his scars to the crowd.

Then the bell sounds and Jason starts grinning maniacally before rushing Bane and slowly shattering as many of Bane's bones as possible as he doesn't even flinch at Bane's punches. Then it's over. Jason is straddled over Bane's corpse after having bashed his head into a greeny-red paste that is currently coating him. The arena is silent for what feels like hours but is probably only a minute max before erupting into a cacophony of cheering and chanting and screaming. Jason manages to push himself up and wander over to Bruce before prompting falling into him and passing out in his arms with a murmured "I'm sorry and you're welcome."

Also yes this is part of my agenda of making the Lazarus Pits more than just The Fountain of Youth but Angy™

[motherofpirates]

The jock punched him in the stomach, causing Eddie to want to curl into a ball to protect himself. The other two forced him to stay upright by holding Eddie’s shoulders against the wall as they cackled and brayed like hyenas. The apparent leader of the three bent down and grabbed a large piece of brick that had been dislodged as the Upside Down had tried to invade their dimension. He stood up and raised it in the air preparing to strike Eddie in the face. Eddie gulped, closing his eyes, as the other two men held him in place more firmly. He turned his face and waited for the brick to strike. “This is payback for Patrick and Chrissy.” The jock spat.

���Oi, dickheads! Back off or I’m gonna start swinging.” Steve’s voice rang clear and confident through the alleyway. A wave of relief so sharp that it caused a lump to appear in his throat and tears to prick his eyes coursed through Eddie’s body. What Eddie felt in that moment was hope. Hope personified as his best friend. The three young men turned but kept a grip on him.

Steve twirled his nail bat menacingly, all those years playing sport and little league baseball making it a natural extension of his hand. An expression so hardened and focused, that Eddie had never seen the likes on Steve’s pretty features before, not even in the Upside Down, imposed on his face. He felt fear for the jocks who were frozen in shock around him.

“You’re lying, Harrington, mind your business.” The nearest one said with confidence returning his attention to Eddie.

“Try me,” Steve closed the gap to the small gang of bullies quickly. He paused briefly, the two holding Eddie exchanged a look as Steve took a step closer and pulled his bat up like a batter taking aim. He suddenly swung it, expertly, so it purposely missed the nearest bully to him by a few centimetres. It whistled past the jocks ear causing him to drop the brick he was holding.

“Jesus H. Christ!” The young man in the letterman jacket took off for the exit of the alleyway.

“Last warning!” Steve whispered threateningly taking another step closer. “No one messes with my friends.” He began swing the bat again but with much more force behind it. The last two boys panicked and fled; they weren’t going to hang around to find out where Steve had planned to land that blow. They hightailed it into the night. Eddie could hear the tires of their car screech as they pulled off.

Eddie felt weak at the knees as the adrenalin rush began to wear off, he was shaky with shock. “Fuck, Steve, that was one of the most badass things I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Eds.” Steve replied gently with a bashful smile as he propped the nail bat against the wall for safe keeping. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Eddie leant heavily against the wall.

“You, ok?”

“I’ve had worse beatings, and this is nowhere near as bad as being eaten alive, I can tell you.” He tried to laugh, his attempt at humour seemed to land flat at Steve’s feet.

Steve looked affectionately at Eddie as he closed the gap between them, lightly tilting Eddie’s chin up with his thumb. He tentatively kissed Eddie on the lips for the first time like he expected Eddie to push him away. Eddie’s whole-body tingled with warmth as joy and a relief so palpable rushed through him it brought tears of happiness to his eyes.

Eddie pulled Steve closer by the collar of his polo shirt to kiss the other man more fully, only to hiss in pain as his jaw protested from the injury it had very recently received.

----------------------------------------------

If you enjoyed this snippet please head on over to AO3 you can find the whole of this fic there under the title of I Want You to Want Me. Here's the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64633807/chapters/166024711

[hotchology]

wilson talking to amber b4 he goes to sleep someone sedate me

[despairots]

DILUTE ME!

this is meant for older audiences, but if you are under the age of 18, i can not stop you from reading this.

story contains: light suggestive themes, yandere themes, ren/[REDACTED] should be a warning itself, mentions of murdering, etc. reader is a bit timid and shy when with [REDACTED] in this but they’re usually sultry and sweet.

context: yandere! reader gets over their sick and twisted ways of showing their love but finds it hard to keep it in once getting with their partner. gn! reader

you didn’t know what lend to this. you swore you got over the tendencies, the habit, the absolute anger you’d feel once you see another person that’s not you making a move on what’s supposed to be yours. why did he let this happen? why was this girl flirting with him infront of you?

your lips pulled itself into a tight line, your face pulling a look of absolute disgust, keeping the thought of bashing her head into the brick wall at bay, but how long could you keep it in until you just gave in and did every horrible thing possible to her?

god, how much longer will she try? actually, why hasn’t ren said anything yet? your eyes shifted from her figure to his, catching every detail of their face snd engraving it into memory. it didn’t matter how many times you do it, they look better every time you do.

your mouth went to open before it shut when she let out an obnoxious laugh. your eyebrow twitched, clutching onto your boyfriends hand even tighter, biting your tongue back. please, please, please, you thought you were better than this. unfortunately, you’ve went back to your default settings.

“leave them alone, you tramp.” you muttered under your breath, letting her only hear it (not knowing he picked it up aswell) before you scoffed at her and pulled ren away. mind was racing with different ways to dispose of her, as ren could only stare at you with puppy eyes.

back to your shared room, you stripped yourself out of your clothes, digging through his clothes and putting them on. any sort of reminder of them as you kept going back to the girl who kept flirting with them. who the hell did she think she was?

ren saw the way you glared at her, saw the way you bit your tongue back to snap at her when she got a little close, they loved it. now, watching you mentally mutter insults to yourself about that unknown whilst in their clothing, all he could think about was you.

how your scent would linger in their clothing, how you were so willingly to strip in front of him and wear their clothing. you looked so small in it, compared to him. ren watched you turn your back away from them, a slight twinge pulled at his chest. were you mind at him?

“are you mad at me, angel?” one of their hands lifted his oversized shirt on, trailing their fingers up and down your back, feeling your smooth skins and the way you shivered from his touch. “i—i’m not mad at you.” the way you ended your sentence with venom made him smile a bit.

ren trailed their fingers over to your stomach until wrapping his arm around it and pulling you back to his chest, hearing you yelp at the sudden pull. from this position, ren could see the growing blush from your cheeks as you tried hiding it in your arm and pillow.

“did… did you think she was cute?” their real name slipped from your tongue, and he couldn’t help but pull a face of disgust when you asked. she couldn’t compete to you in any other way. ren kept a note in disposing her later once you fell asleep, they didn’t want you to think he was attracted to her.

ren placed small kisses onto the back of your neck, hearing you breathe softly each time he made in contact with your skin, “you’re all i want.” their voice was muffled against the crook of your neck, as you flipped around and placed a gentle hand on his cheeks, a soft smile on your face.

“go to sleep, okay? i promise to give you treat later. remember? poorly behaved dogs get not treat.” fuck, that was hot. once you say that, there was no turning back, the both of you would last hours. ren’s eyes widened until their lips pulled into a light smirk, his hand going to the back of your head and pulling you into a deep kiss.

your hand slid down to his chest, finding itself slipping underneath their clothing and resting it there. a light moan escaped your mouth when ren took control, his tongue slipped into your mouth, marking every inch of it until they pulled away, a string of saliva a reminder.

ren went back to placing kisses on your neck, sometimes nipping at it if he felt a like a tease, grinning whenever you would release a small whine. your hands played with his hair, waiting until he fell asleep to execute your plan. a devious smile pulled onto your lips, hearing the breathes of the one you love.

you pulled away lightly, making sure you didn’t wake them up as you placed a pillow to be a substitute for you until you came back. this will be the only time you’ll resort back to your old ways, dressing in all back, grabbing a pair of latex gloves and a box cutter. as much as you wanted to do worse, this will have to do.

finding her wasn’t hard to do, she was walking around clearly under the influence, and you couldn’t help but snort at how stupid of a bimbo she was. you dragged her back to a secluded spot, keeping a hand over her mouth as you tossed her to the ground and went to stab the box cutter deep into the side of her neck.

you stayed in that position, maybe pushing it into her neck deeper for safety measures (when really you just wanted to get in more stabs). you pushed her to the side, putting the box cutter into your pocket and pulling the black mouth mask down, a judging look on your face.

disposing her body was easy, killing her was easy too— everything was easy actually. you didn’t need to do anything extreme to get rid of her. you quietly sneak back inside your home, stretching your limbs and taking the gloves off. you opted to throw the box cutter away but decided to keep it as a reminder that you had killed somebody again.

a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to something as a half scream half yelp was muffled when a hand came to your mouth. you thrusted around… until a familiar voice whispered into your ear, “now where were you, angel? did’ya really leave me to solve my own problem?” you knew what he meant by problem but that didn’t bother you when you remembered you were covered in blood.

“ren— let me go—“ their hold against you tightened, they took a piece of your ear into his mouth and nibbled on it, “so, how’d you kill her? stab her? strangled her? come on— you could’ve left her to me!” the way he said it sent a chilling shiver down your spine; what the hell did they mean?

he turned you around, wiping off some excess blood on your cheek with a lovesick smile. god, you looked so good like this. “what are you talking about?” you whispered, ren’s lips inches away from yours as their eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes.

“y’know what i’m talking about.”

your eyebrows were pulled into a frown, why isn’t he finding this weird? “you’re not disgusted by me?” ren let out a sigh, his next words being muffled by your lips, “i can never be disgusted by you.” you pulled away slightly, lips parted and pupils blown out, eyes flickering from their lips to their eyes nervously.

“but i killed someone…”

“and i enjoyed every minute of it.” the way ren said it made butterflies flutter in your chest, but yet you still felt disgusted by yourself. you promised you wouldn’t resort back to your old ways, yet you couldn’t help yourself. the way she decided to flirt with him in front of you, made you want to feel the same feeling you’d get whenever someone decided to get too cozy with something that was yours.

ren noticed the lack of words, bringing you into a comforting kiss, feeling you relax in their hold as you slowly kissed back. knowing the extremes you’d take for him, he couldn’t help but feel flattered that you’ll do that for him.

“come on, how ‘bout that treat i’m supposed to be getting?” ren shoved the black sweater off you, lips still interlocked as they placed their phone on the kitchen counter,

… as photos of you stalking and killing the women appeared on his phone.

[thegroundhogdidit]

crying screaming throwing up the parallels and character foiling between shawn and lassie like these are two low empathy autistic men who made best friendships with high empathy autistic people and both probably wanted to be detectives growing up and both have trauma and no real understanding of boundaries but one of them grew up constantly being controlled while the other has a strong desire to control his environment and it means that they bash heads with each other because they both want to be in control of the situation i'm putting my head through a brick wall rn

[dustandthought]

You Can't Build a Home on Blood

In Red Dead Redemption 2, we were shown a beautiful picture of John Marston's "new life." But the truth behind that house is far dirtier than we’d like to think.

They bought the land. They built the house. A house that was supposed to be the start of a new life.

But what kind of "new life" can you have when the foundation is soaked in blood and tears?

Money to pay off the bank loan for the land and building materials— it came from what John, Charles, and Sadie took after the final standoff with Micah.

( **Although the first few payments, John did indeed pay off with bucks earned through his honest labor** )

Money that didn't belong to Dutch. Money that sure as hell didn’t belong to John. Money steeped in pain, suffering, violence. Money that bled from the deaths of rich and poor alike — of women, children, old men. Money that was cursed from the moment it was stained with innocent blood.

And when John paid for the land, he knew it. More precisely, he paid off the mortgage for the house with that money.He knew — and he still went through with it.

Can you start a new life on old blood?

That’s like saying: "I'm for the good side now! Sure, I used to kill, rob, bash in heads for fun, but hey, that's the past! Now I’m building myself a house and starting fresh. Who cares if the bricks are held together with the blood of innocents — the important thing is, I'm a good guy now!"

Life doesn’t work that way. Redemption doesn’t work that way.

Real redemption starts with refusal. Refusal of the blood, the gold, the lies.

True redemption would have looked different. Not investing blood money into a cozy little dream house for Abigail. But instead — donating it to places that truly needed saving:

A church sheltering freed slaves.

A hospital where children were dying.

The starving communities we saw rotting at the edges of civilization.

Let’s be honest: Those blood-soaked bills could have saved hundreds of lives.

Instead, they built a house. A nice, wooden, neat little house. On bones.

Can we blame Abigail? No. She dreamt of a home. Of safety. Of normal life. She dreamed honestly, purely. She wanted to earn her way there, fair and square.

But the road to her dream was paved with other people’s ruin. And that’s a tragedy.

Karma? Justice? Maybe karma is real. Maybe tears shed in pain never go unanswered. Maybe cursed foundations always collapse. And maybe that’s why no true happiness ever came for them.

Because you can’t build a temple of love out of blood.

The ending? John Marston killed. He killed bad men. He killed good men. He killed whoever needed killing.

And when the time came to choose — true redemption or a cozy hiding place — he chose comfort. Not redemption. Comfort.

P.S. Justice isn't about buying yourself a warm bed after a life of hell. Justice is about taking everything you earned through suffering — and turning it into light for those you once plunged into darkness. And if you had the chance to do that and you chose a cozy bed instead — you lost.

[nymphus-fan-account]

Jealous Mike fic recs

made by nymphy

eyecatcher by smoosnoom (moonsooms) | 9k words

“Nah, man,” Lucas shakes his head, leaning back as he snacks on an apple, “he got, like, buff. Do you see his arms?”

Mike does, in fact, see Will’s arms. He has not stopped seeing his arms.

“She definitely sees his arms,” Dustin very unhelpfully points out, waggling his eyebrows, and Mike gets the overwhelming urge to bash his own head in.

OR

While volunteering at the Hawkins' help center, it seems like every girl around has a newfound interest in Will Byers, and Mike doesn't like it.

Comedy gold 😭 I love moon's works so much

All I wanted was you by regretcassette | 8k words

Will gets asked out on a date, naturally Mike comes along to keep everything safe. Ft. Seventeen year Olds, rain fight parallels, jealous Mike Wheeler, unrequited affection but its not between byler lol

You tell me, haven't read it

Operation Wax by draconabraxas | 41k words | 8/? chapters, still updating

After a humiliating homophobic verbal attack against Will, Max and Will decided that enough was enough. Being anything but straight was dangerous in a place like Hawkins, and the only way out of the spotlight was to blend in.

Will just wished that Max didn't name their plan Operation Wax.

OR

Will and Max fake date as a way to stay safe in the closet and accidentally cause a civil war within the Party.

Madwise fake dating and creating a drama?!! I'm so here for it.

closeface by miketozier (smallcuts) | 13k words

“You said I was bad at managing my time between my girlfriend and my best friend but you’re basically doing the same thing.”

“Girlfriend?!” Will spits out, thoroughly shell-shocked.

“I don’t get it! You could’ve told me you had a crush on someone, I would’ve—and when did you ever talk to Robin? You move to California and all of a sudden you’ve got all these girls hanging off of you and you’re interested in older girls—“ Mike’s voice embarrassingly cracks. He decides to quit while he’s ahead before he delves into the forbidden.

OR

In the wake of the apocalypse, Will befriends Robin and Mike thinks they're dating BYE. (ft. Paintinggate)

LMAOO this poor boy (haven't read it)

It's just polyester by mayfixlds, okwillthewise | 60k words | 13/13 chapters

“I just can’t believe he’s got a boyfriend and-”

“It’s not you?” Max smacks on the lollipop

OR

Will gets a boyfriend and Mike gets jealous.

Be the Boy by blueremedy | 17k words

“Jonathan…” His voice was high and resigned. “You know there’s no way I could do that. There’s no point—he likes girls. Plus, he’s going through a break up. And all this Vecna bullshit…” He sighed heavily, voice crumpling up like a tin can the more he spoke. “The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.”

In a blink Mike snatched up the walkie with trembling hands, shoving the plastic brick’s speaker hard against his ear. So. El was right. Will did have a crush after all.

OR

Mike's nosy ass hears something he shouldn't and he gets jealous of himself

Read it a few times before going to sleep. Very cute and fluffy 💕

i think we're alone now by lumism | 3.5 k words

“Whatever," Lucas shrugs. "You’re just jealous that you aren’t getting any.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, like he knows something the rest of them don't. Will looks like he wants to drown him. He probably deserves it.

OR

Will has a love bite, the Party freaks out about it, and Mike is jealous of himself

And another fic where Mike gets jealous of himself. I'll be honest, I don't remember the plot but I remember getting many positive emotions

Everything comes back to you by wasabi8000 | 120k words | 26/26 chapters

The world is ending, which means for the time being, Will is living at the Wheeler’s house with Mike and El. Which means his life is once again a third-wheeling roller rink nightmare, and he’s basically invisible to Mike.

Until Jonathan gives him $20 to go to an art sale, and he meets Tobias, a guy just as into art as he is.

It’s not long before him and Tobias start dating.

And then suddenly, Mike’s paying attention to him after all.

OR

Will gets a boyfriend. Mike doesn’t like it.

TWENTY SIX?? 🤯 I could never. Maybe I should try though

Jealousy (turning saints into the sea) by wasabi8000

Will has had to watch Mike and Eleven for years, and as much as it kills him, he's learned to accept it.

He's also accepted that for the time being, no one has really shown much interest in him. And he's fine with that.

Until they pull off at a gas station and a random guy hits on Will.

OR

The one where Mike finally gets jealous.

Hehehehehehehe

💌

Have a good read!