#I don't actually know lol

[justsomeweirdbandkid]

is jesus in obey me

He is now

[sundaynightlive]

Wild [+reckless driving] (Steddie)

Next Part

Eddie blows smoke out the window as they drive, and Steve tries to keep his eyes on the road. With anyone else, that task would’ve been easy—Steve’s a real stickler for safety, plus his car is like his baby, and if anything happened to her he might as well die, too. 

That’s dramatic, but still. 

Eddie’s different. Steve couldn’t ignore him if he tried, and trust him, he fucking tries—especially racing down the highway in the middle of the night. It’s just impossible—those long, dark curls framing his face, his slump into the seat and spread of his knees, the tattoos that litter his arms like he has quilted limbs. Steve never knew a man could be so beautiful, and that scares him, but not enough to keep him away. He’s so drawn to it all—the bad boy, town pariah, nerdy charm. It’s like Robin and Nancy had a baby and it’s Eddie, which is sort of weird but mostly like a death trap. It's like the universe created him specifically, scarily specifically.

How could Steve not like him? How could Steve not want to jump his bones—press him into any flat surface and—

God, Steve wants to kiss him. Badly. He’s sure he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Everyone he’s ever been interested in kissing has been equally interested in kissing him—it wasn’t exactly difficult back in the days of high-school and being “Mr. Popular.”

Now it feels insurmountable, like Steve’s standing at the bottom of a cliff he has to scale in order to reach Eddie “the freak” Munson at the top, a feeling he never would’ve anticipated having, ever. Certainly not until Dustin had introduced them, insisting they’d get along and being right beyond measure.

They got along too well.

“Eyes on the road, Stevie.”

Steve turns quickly back to empty highway, despite his reluctance. He can feel Eddie grinning at his side profile, the arrogant bastard. This has been happening a lot lately—Eddie catching him. Steve would feel more embarrassed about it if Eddie really said anything, or called him out, but no. Just that stupid little grin like his ego’s swollen ten sizes. Part of Steve would prefer Eddie said something so he knew whether or not he stood a fucking chance.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Eddie continues, surprising Steve, because he rarely continues, “But you’ve been giving me the eyes, lately.” 

Steve’s grip tightens on the wheel, he adjusts his hands, and then he tries to relax. They do need to talk about it. No matter how awkward it is, it’s only fair. At the very least, Steve wants to keep being friends with the boy, so as long as they have an open and honest discussion—

“Pull over.”

Steve’s brows furrow. He looks over at Eddie, but Eddie’s just staring out the window at the spanning corn fields. He flicks his cigarette out.

“Ed, we’re in the middle of—”

“Pull over.”

Eddie’s still not looking at him. Steve sighs.

“What are we doing?” Steve questions, popping open his car door, because whatever’s going on, it seems like Eddie wants to be out for it. He walks around the front, taking a deep breath of sweet, night air. He can faintly smell cigarette smoke, definitely Eddie, but for the most part, it satisfies his lungs like a cool glass of water. He rounds the front, and leans up against his BMW next to Ed, who’s got his arms crossed and is still not looking in Steve’s direction.

“I know that I’m giving you… the eyes, or whatever,” Steve says, itching to break the silence, “I just thought—” He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp as Eddie turns, caging Steve in against the car, their hips flush together and their foreheads bumping just soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. Steve wants to play it cool, but there’s absolutely no saving himself from reaching beneath Eddie’s vest and clenching his fingers in that dorky Hellfire t-shirt. He nearly swallows his tongue as the hand that’s not bracing Ed against the car slips two fingers through one of his belt loops.

“Tell me no,” Eddie mutters, still not looking at him.

He’s eyeing Steve's mouth, instead.

Steve begins to pant—absolutely mortifying considering Eddie’s done nothing but move to share space with him. His chest and shoulders heave with breath, and his mouth has gone so dry, he feels like he just woke up from a bender. He watches Eddie intently, anticipating, aching.

“I can’t,” he whispers.

The distance between them closes and Steve is pulling relentlessly on that shirt, desperate to be closer to Eddie than he already is which would be impossible unless Steve literally crawled beneath his skin. Eddie’s hand, which had been the only thing stopping Eddie’s body from completely crushing him against his BMW, moves to angle Steve’s chin—a move which lights Steve’s entire body on fire, because never once has he been corrected while kissing. Never once had a girl had the audacity to tell him what to do, how to be, and Steve is realizing now he craves that—that mindless direction.

Tell me what to do and I will do it. Make me good for you.

Eddie’s only kissing him and is somehow awakening his most severe desire.

When they break the first time, they’re both breathless. Eddie presses firmly into Steve’s body and it hurts with his back awkwardly pinned against his car, but he would not have Eddie anywhere else in the world. In fact, he hopes it continues to hurt for the rest of his life so this moment is permanently etched into his skin like a festering bruise.

“I honestly didn’t think this would go so well,” Eddie admits. Steve’s eyes flick down to those soft lips—the ones that taste like nicotine and spit, not overtly pleasant but so, so addictive.

“Kiss me again.”

“You got it, big boy.”

[misc-obeyme]

Cosmo's eyes are sensitive to light because of all the time he spent in the dark. It took him a while to adjust to the devildom light. Cosmo's room has no lightbulb, he took it out.

Bows for barb

Wow that must be a pretty intense light sensitivity if even the Devildom is too bright! Though they don't really talk too much about what the light levels are like and I tend to think of the moon as being really bright, so perhaps that checks out.

I personally am not a fan of bright lights that aren't natural light. Like I only use lamps, no overhead lights, they're too harsh. And the bulbs in my bedroom are amber light so they're softer and darker.

But that's just a preference, I'm sure spending a lot of time in the dark would indeed increase that sensitivity!!

[swordsonnet]

i'm sorry but i don't think we should call this the "autism website" when there's still posts with tons of notes mocking people who:

struggle with social skills / have anxiety around social settings

are unemployed / unable to work certain jobs

have intense or "age-inappropriate" interests

haven't had certain life experiences that are deemed universal/essential

struggle with personal hygiene

don't have any friends or dating experience

don't go outside much or at all

take things literally / don't get sarcasm/jokes

have unusual ways of speaking

generally aren't "normal"

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[retquits]

[ WIP ] last night i kept thinking about how the eclipse looked like a beautiful ring...

and then i started thinking about the ocean proposing to the sky 🥺🤲🌘

[theabigailthorn]

"Good" Acting

i have a theory that a lot of people say acting is "good" when they're emotionally moved by it, and a lot of cishet white people have a lifelong habit of not listening or empathising when minoritised people speak, so minority actors get called "bad" even when they display some pretty fucking amazing technical skill

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[aeide-thea]

on principle opposed to describing art i dislike as 'masturbatory' because even though it's an alluringly contemptuous word to sneer it's impossible to reconcile with my pro-masturbation stance

[uncanny-tranny]

This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?

At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.

I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.

[posalis]

challengers twitter pointed out something very cool: art's coach speaking to him in german!

the subs says "just invite her to serve." (which doesn't make any sense? and art doesn't even go to her after that lmao?) but he apparently actually says "wirf den ball etwas höher." which means "throw the ball a little higher.".

so art knows what patrick's house looks like which means he went there, he understands when his coach speaks to him in german and he's the only one who can pronounce "zweig", a german surname, the right way.

art learning german for patrick and spending holidays with him and his family is canon, i don't make the rules.

[hayden-christensen]

STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 5: DON'T MAKE ME NICKNAME YOU - FAVOURITE NAMES/NICKNAMES

The different ways Obi-Wan referred to and addressed Anakin through the years.

[sunderwight]

Thinking about Black Widow Luo Binghe.

Hear me out -- so just like in canon, Shen Qingqiu self-destructs to save Luo Binghe, dies, and Luo Binghe steals his body to put on ice while he looks for methods to resurrect him. But unlike in canon, staving off decomposition is simply not that doable for a matter of years, even with cultivation and Luo Binghe pouring qi into the process. The qi costs are still high, so is Xin Mo, and now Binghe also needs a special artifact that can actually preserve Shen Qingqiu, but that runs on blood sacrifices.

To get the thing working, Luo Binghe feeds it a bunch of prisoners from the Water Prison. Then he starts kidnapping cultivators to drain for his own qi reserves, but that's difficult, controversial, and he can't use the same victims for the blood sacrifice afterwards. Frankly, between one thing and another it would be easier to satisfy Xin Mo with dual cultivation, and focus on finding victims for Shizun's Snow White style glass preservation coffin without having to choose between using targets for one or the other. Especially given that, if he finesses it, Luo Binghe can extend the use of his sacrifices and get more out of them with fewer deaths that way.

He's pretty sure that Shizun would want fewer deaths.

Of course, he is not a fan of the logistics of the plan itself, but he'd do worse things to one day be reunited. He consoles himself that he's building up bedroom experience for one day being with Shen Qingqiu, and that it doesn't really count because his heart's not really in it, and also if Shizun got to spend all that time in brothels then it's only fitting that Luo Binghe be his equal in this as well. It still doesn't make it pleasant for him, but it makes him able to tolerate the necessity of it.

So Luo Binghe ends up marrying a string of rich and powerful figures -- mostly the villainous single fathers and mothers and evil uncles of harem members from PIDW, rather than their daughters -- and coming up with creative ways of making all their deaths a few months into the process look like accidents. After the third one people are undeniably wary of marrying him, but there's always someone with a big enough ego to think they'll be an exception, or stupid enough to believe that it really has just been so much bad luck up to that point. It helps that the universe is predisposed to let him hit it.

When SY wakes up in the shroom body and hears about Luo Binghe's succession of marriages, he's not surprised. What he is surprised by is the bisexual graveyard of toxic dilfs and milfs that has replaced the harem.

What did he do to cause that?!

And what does Luo Binghe mean that he wants to marry his own shizun now? Is this his new method of revenge??? Binghe, you don't have to marry someone to kill them!

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn’t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[overlymetaromantic]

*slaps Loid like I’m a salesperson showing off a new car*: you can pack so much anxiety into this one man