#I want to stick a fork in an electrical socket

[livingfast04]

Monster Au? - Part 7

one two three four five six II eight

TW: Body Horror, Disordered Eating, anxiety, dehumanization, refences to past child abuse, refences to emotional abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, biting (not the fun kind),vomiting.

---

Hi? That’s it Munson? Fucking Hi? Gods above, are you fucking stupid. Steve stares at him, and Eddie stupidly lifts his hand up to wave awkwardly. This was a terrible idea, Steve just kept staring at him, wide eyed- as if. Eddie shifted from foot to foot, this was terrible, this was so fucking stupid. 

“I-” “Ed-” Eddie snapped his jaw shut, his gums aching from the sharp clamp. Steve’s mouth was slightly parted, Eddie could see the points of sharp teeth. They stand there for a little while longer, taking each other in? At least that’s what Eddie’s doing, Steve’s heart beat is much easier to hear from the close proximity, despite Steve’s outward appearance of skin and bone. Eddie- Eddie can’t take his eyes off him- 

He’s almost skeletal, his clothes are too big, and it’s like the other lost over a hundred pounds of weight. Steve’s thin, his eyes are shrunken against his skin, they are mostly hidden behind almost stringy like hair that flops down past Steve’s chin. Like he desperately needs to wash it, but hasn’t- 

Eddie traced over the pale skin he could see, there was a stark almost lack of pigment, as if Steve had never been outside a day in his life- blue veins- and far more freckles than Eddie remembers trace over the younger boy's skin. As if the color had concentrated to tiny little dots-

Steve doesn’t look remotely human, not with his lamp like eyes, Eddie stares at the youngers bones, at the knobbiness of his elbows-

Steve- Steve’s just as supernatural as Eddie is- 

Steve doesn’t smell like he’s dying- Well, Eddie parts his lips, tries not to be obvious about the way he sucks in a mouthful of the air. He still smelled sick, but not, not as bad as before- it was laid over with a hefty amount of sadness, anxiety and a rising amount of stress. Eddie stepped just slightly back, ducking his head slightly, dropping his arm down by his side. Giving Steve space, the stress didn’t ease up- but Steve’s heart rate slowed a little. 

Letting out a soft breath, Eddie swallows, “Shit, okay. I-” He pauses, shaking out his limbs and giving his head a little jerk, hair flying in his face. “Steve, I’m, so sorry.” Steve blinks at him, eyes a little lamp-like, big confused and wide. “I’m so sorry, I hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got too angry at you to listen to my nose. I got upset and should have realized something deeper was so incredibly wrong-” Eddie takes a huge deep breath, “I was stupid, I was stupid and dumb, and I will regret it for the rest of my life.” Steve opens his mouth slightly, showing off those sharp teeth- Eddie gives a tiny shake of his head. “And I’m not apologizing because you are supernatural, or because I want back in the house. I could give less of a shit about the house. I’m,” Eddie pauses for a moment, catching his breath, vampire or not he does need to do that- “I’m apologizing because we treated- I treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve that.”

Steve stared at him, looking just as confused and lost as he had before Eddie started. Eddie shifted, rocking back on his heels, he worked his jaw, “I- I’m not asking you to forgive me. Ever, not now and not in the future. I just, you deserve an apology, and I’ve already taken too much time to even get here to do that.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t tense, it was just heavy. Eddie shuffled, he didn’t really know what he was waiting for. Maybe for Steve to slam the door in his face, or scream at him. There was movement in the house, and Eddie gave a half step back, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m going to-” “Stephan? Baby? Who's at the door?” Steve’s head twisted around at the voice, Eddie frozen on the steps. Staring at the other. The younger boy glanced at him, back in the house- and then back at Eddie. The confusion was almost gone, and Eddie could smell some of that sad, eased off- loneliness, it flooded his nose.

Steve snapped his jaw a little, Eddie could hear his teeth click twice. “My friend Eddie” His voice was rough, Steve’s light colored eyes met his. Brown- thick, the color there was- The woman, probably Steve’s Mom actually, peaked over Steve’s shoulder. She had the same freckles as Steve did- the same almost lamp like look. She was just as unnerving to witness. 

She looks him over, almost hooking her chin over Steve’s shoulder- “Eddie?” Eddie could almost feel like she already knew who he was. “Eddie Munson.” Steve’s voice was clipped, not detached or that bitchy tone that Eddie remembers from High School. It was tired, stressed, and incredibly rough as if Steve hasn’t been talking almost at all. They really hadn’t spoken to Steve, so it probably wasn’t that far from the truth. The woman blinked at him, tapping her forehead against Steve’s- and then she stood up. She was taller than Steve, at least like this, Steve was shorter this way too now that Eddie was realizing. “Munson? As in Wayne Munson’s boy?” “I- uh, Yes Ma’am?” Eddie chokes out the response. And then she nods, it almost looks disjointed as if she’s not used to nodding. “The Vampire boy.” Steve made a small noise in the back of his throat, Eddie wrinkled his nose at being addressed as such. The Vampire Boy. “The one who was here, with that group.” Her disdain is loud, and Eddie doesn’t even have to fight a bristle, he was mad at them too, her anger was understandable. Steve shrugs, and Eddie- Eddie nods, strong and sharp. He’ll reap the consequences of his actions, and he’ll take those from whoever thinks he deserves the shit beaten out of him. Because honestly he does. 

She glances over Eddie for a minute, “I made hamburgers for Dinner.” She turns around and walks back in the house. Leaving Eddie alone with Steve, her words hanging over them. Eddie looks at Steve for a long moment, and Steve looks at him- his eyes are soft, nervous, it’s all there- A thin scar covered face, scared lips turn up just slightly. It’s wobbly and anxious, it’s an invitation. Eddie gives a wobbly smile in return. Steve steps out of the doorway, shuffling back a little bit leaving the entryway wide open. It’s- it’s an invitation, and Eddie doesn’t want it. He really doesn’t want it- He shifts side to side a little bit, “I- I don’t,” Steve’s smile gets a little bigger, “Come on, she-” Steve’s voice crackles, “She won’t take no for an answer.” Okay, fuck, alright. Eddie shuffles up and into the house.

---

Steve isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing. His skin crawls, but- but Eddie apologized. And that has to mean something, right? The monster in his bones takes it at face value, having more of Pack back. It’s nauseating, it's disgusting, that he and the thing that lives in his brain agree, but Steve hates it, he hates it all. Eddie waits for him to shut and lock the door, doesn’t move from the entry way other than to take off his shoes. Steve doesn’t know what to do with that entirely. Mama has turned down the radio in the kitchen some, at least Steve thinks so. 

He’s not even sure what her reasoning is for letting Eddie in the house. If Dad was home, he’d have probably slammed the door in Eddie’s face with little care for why he was there, or if what the older boy had to say was important or not. With little care for Steve’s feelings on the matter. Mama has a little more tact, but she’s still His mother, she’s just the same as she’s ever been. And Josefina Harrington is still a mega bitch, it’s almost just her general state of being, Steve had to learn it from somewhere. And it certainly wasn’t going to be from Dad. 

Steve is hesitant to pass Eddie, but he almost stumbles past, off balance more today. Eddie’s hands lift up as if to steady him- they never touch him, something cries out in his chest, claws at his skin. Always at arm's length, never touched, he didn’t want him either- Mama is swaying gently to whatever is playing on the little radio in the kitchen, it’s too low for Steve’s fucked ears to pick up on. But she looks calm, happy- not like she’s plotting to murder Eddie. “Have you eaten yet?” Her eyes are on Eddie, she knows that Steve had a bowl of fruit and a yogurt for lunch.

Eddie waves his band in the air, “I had a bloodpop and meat cubs like 25 minutes ago, but I’ll eat again if you have enough for me. Ma’am.” Steve shuffles around the counter towards his Mama, and she hums at him, knocking her head against his when he gets close enough.

She let out a little soft coo at him. Steve didn’t respond verbally to the soothing noise, instead he knocked their heads together again, pressing his nose to her cheek before moving away. Still within arms reach, but not touching. He doesn’t want to corrupt her with his wrongness any more than he already has. 

He could almost feel Eddie’s eyes following him, burning into his skin; Steve wasn’t brave enough to try and turn around to figure out what exactly was hiding in the vampire’s gaze. Mama does it for him, well not really- Steve curls his fingers, leaning against the island counter. “Josefina, or Josie, None of this Ma’am stuff. At least not while Richard isn’t home,” Mama doesn’t even call Dad Richard when she’s at home, at least when they don’t have Guests. He’s normally Richy, or sometimes James. “And of course we have enough, I invited you in, didn't I?” Steve wrinkles his nose, blinking a little sluggish at her. Avoiding Eddie’s imploring gaze, eyes fixated on the patties she was warming slightly on the stove. They were probably the weird frozen kind that Mama buys when she doesn’t want to put them together from scratch. His stomach cramps at the smell and at the idea of eating.

They sit in silence for a minute before Mama turns on Steve with a soft but sharp edged look, “You will sit down, or I will make you get back in bed.” He glanced at the chairs, at where Eddie was standing between the stools there. Steve breathes heavily, his sides ache, and his bones hurt from standing for so long.

He scratches at his wrist. Eddie pulls the stool out next to him, and Steve guesses the choice is made for him. Shuffling across the floor, he tucks up into the chair drawing his knees to his chest. Eddie isn’t warm, not entirely. But he’s solid.

Resisting the urge to lean off the back of the chair and against Eddie’s side draws most of his attention. Mama and Eddie talk about what Steve would never know- it’s, it���s movie nights all over again. Alone, Alone-Letting Eddie in the house was a mistake, this was all a mistake- Steve draws his arms over the top of his knees, biting sharp teeth down into his arm. Locks his jaw, digging into the little meat on his forearm as he can, mouth filling with blood. Copper coating his tongue, laving his tongue against his skin, pressing it there.

It was warm, and with the way he had his jaw clamped around his wrist- swallowing a mouthful of his own blood didn’t sound all that appealing. It dripped down his chin. Steve jerked back at a sharp hiss, tearing at the skin on his arms, effectively dragging deeper lines, blood welling up. Eddie hissed again, twisting Steve’s chair around with a startling amount of strength- fingers pressed against his jaw, as if trying to pry his mouth open. Steve’s mind sparked at the contact, whatever was left of their frayed pack bond bloomed on the edges of his mind. It buzzed in his ears and Steve clicked- 

Mouth full of blood, pressing copper against all his senses, it was spilling down the back of his throat. “Steve let go.” Eddie’s voice was rough, harsh- Steve’s head spins, his heart pounding in his ears. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, the blood in his throat thick, slimy- too warm- his stomach cramps. “Stevie you have to let go- you’re hurting yourself-'' Steve knows that, he can tell- he digs his teeth in a little deeper, clamps his eyes shut, tears squeeze through he can feel them, the top half of his face getting wet. His teeth scrape bone. A new freshway of blood pools heavily on his tongue, spills down his throat, thick and heavy- 

Steve’s ribs squeezed his lungs, he gagged, what was stuck in his throat filling his mouth. His stomach heaves. Eddie curses, grabbing his jaw and prying it open. Steve gags again, shoving at Eddie, snarling and snapping as he bends at the waist, vomiting all over the floor. The whole room smells like blood. Steve spit a glob on the floor before gagging again. Tears curl down his face, he hates this, he hates all of this. 

Eddie lets out a cooing noise, soft and somewhat like Mama’s sounds- but it’s different, Mama’s not- Mama’s not here. Logically Steve knows she is, but his brain’s all screwy. It's all wrong. 

Steve lets out a loud distressed whine, blood coating his lips as his stomach cramps. All of this is terrible- it hurts, hurts- his arm throbs. “You’re okay Stevie, your mom went to get something to clean up. She’ll be right back.” Eddie’s voice was high, probably panicked, but the older was clearly trying his damn best to make sure Steve wasn’t freaking out. 

His chest heaved, gagging around, his chest hurt, his stomach hurt- and it was- Steve whined again, “I know sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry honey.” the animalistic urge to bare his teeth at Eddie gnawed on his skin, crawled through his bones. Steve felt untethered. Mama comes back, he can smell her more than he can hear her. Lets her and Eddie sit him up, lets her inspect his teeth marks, stares numbly forwards and says nothing as she stiches them up because his arm is basically torn open.  Steve just lets it all happen around him, doesn’t respond to her vocal calls, or Eddie’s soothing tones. His mind buzzes. Steve feels empty.

--- I know I said Untuned Piano first, but this one demanded attention. Probably due to me actually looking at my Asks and having a spark of fleeting motivation. So I scrambled to get it done and then spent the past like 2 days working on this instead of my school work. If it shit I apologize. I've rewritten this portion like four times. Was never really happy with it, but I'm chill with this. Though when this goes up on Ao3 (If I ever get my dumbass around to doing it), I'll probably rewrite a bunch of it, and add some stuff in. So it'll be worth it to read it over there too! :D

Thank you for your comments!! I crave validation and you are all incredibly nice and very motivating :)) <3 Fingers cross Depression doesn't knock me on my ass before I can get anything done.

Tags: @theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @estrellami-1 @raysreads @knightofthieves @sassysleeplord @gezell-igg @ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw @thegingerrapunzel @finalmoondragon @warrior-616 @lexyvey @thesuninyaface @whalesharksart @two-faced-biatch @plasticcrotches @xtkxkrzrizir @minjintea @potatofist18 @just-a-tiny-void @selune2 @hellomynameismoo @princessstevemunson @plantzzsandpencilzzs @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @dbquills @pheonixashtree @sharingisntkaren @gregre369 @chaoticlovingdreamer @obliosworld

[miz-chase]

I just think we deserve the version of Bones 3.15 The Pain in the Heart where Jared Booth was informed and invited to Booth’s fake funeral.

If you think Sweets was already shit-stirring, imagine how much better/worse/dramatic/chaotic/hilarious it would be with Jared. Wind up his brother? Flirt with Brennan to really rub it in? Lay it on thick that he was informed but Brennan wasn’t? Get Cam in on it?

Jared Booth walks directly in front of his disguised brother with a smirk, walking right to Tempe’s side to offer steady support. Tells her Noble Seeley stories and remarks on how now he will have to be the reliable protector, how he will take on the duty of protecting his brother’s people. Booth just about cracks a tooth from how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

Sweets is amateur hour compared to a lifetime of little brother expertise

[playroom-sekaii]

Little Rui is very good at crocodile tears, if there's something he really wants that he's not allowed to have prepare for puppy-dog eyes and pouty tears (even when it's something like "Kasa said I'm not allowed to stick a fork in an electrical socket but I wanna see if it actually hurts")

However, him crying when he's actually upset is a lot more subtle compared to the show he puts on when he's being somewhat bratty. He's a quiet crier, trying to keep anyone from noticing his sobs or hitches in his voice as tears stream down his face. Sometimes he'll even hide when he's crying, he doesn't want anyone to think less of him for being upset at whatever caused him to be like this, or he doesn't want to worry anyone.

Thankfully, his caregivers are experts at telling his fake tears from his real ones, so there haven't been any "boy who cried wolf" situations where they thought he was faking it when he was actually distressed, and they're also quite good at helping their little alchemist smile again ♡

[lastoneout]

After watching the show twice and thinking about it way too hard I'm starting to think Bee was created, at least in part, to protect the island/spaceship.

Like I do love the theory that human Bee died and the current Bee is a replacement, I def agree that her talking about getting really sick one time isn't just a throwaway line, plus her hatred of the ocean/water seems too important to be nothing but a personality quirk brought on by her being a robot(like how she says she's waterproof but also that she doesn't even like looking at the oceans bcs it makes her "think about things" seems suspicious), and as sad as it is the first time we see baby Bee she is trying to stick a fork in an electric socket...so yeah lots of hints/references to Bad Stuff happening in her past, BUT I also could see her having a greater purpose in the whole system thing that's going on with the spaceship/island.

It seems like one of her main skills is being Really Freaking Strong, and several times we see her consciously activate some parts of herself that specifically make her stronger, and I can't stop thinking about how two times in the show her main consciousness seems to go "offline" and is replaced by some kind of combat focused sleeper-agent mode and how when she's in that mode she can keep fighting even when parts of her are severely damaged. Sure, her dad could have added all that just to protect her, but on top of all that the show also goes out of it's way to show that helping and supporting people is clearly one of the main things she does, and I think that's important too.

Like we see pictures and flashbacks of her with other characters when they were babies, she mentions being familiar with taking care of babies in the new first ep, Deckard and Cas talk about how she's been around their family "forever", and she starts to prioritize taking care of Cardamon once she realizes he needs help. We see her remeber what people enjoy and go out of her way to get things they like/want, take them places she knows they'll have fun, and to support them even when it's hard(the peach bread, evergy drinks, and laptop for Cas, taking Crispin to the clown planet, ordering food from the cat Cafe despite clearly not wanting to be there just to help Howell, pushing Deckard to pursue his dream, going crazy trying to fix Puppycat when he's all squishy, ect.), Hell the show even starts with her wishing she had someone/thing to take care of. It's clearly something that she's drawn to doing, even if she isn't always the best at it.

And yeah that could all just be her(or human Bee's) natural personality, but even the little stuff is Important in this show and so I think it's more than that. Like maybe Bee's dad programed in the "helpful" stuff just to make sure someone was looking after Violet and Cardamon(even if they weren't awake) and that just spilled over into the rest of Bee's life, or maybe he genuinely wanted her to care for the island residents, but it really does seem like Bee's real job is being a protector.

Anyway I know some people were saying Lazy in Space was labeled as "part one" so I'm hoping we get more and if we do they go into why Bee exists, but until then this is my theory.

[marcelwrites]

Bored and restless today. Couldn't workout to ease some of that because I'm still sore from yesterday and pushing your body to breaking point isn't worth it. Hung out with my best mate at the cafe for a couple of hours which was cool but I just wasn't there. Sometimes it's like your skeleton is forced to carry the meat around for a while. I've been listening to the same song virtually on repeat for the last few days, and I'm not certain why, but there's something about it that, and I'll explain what it's like, when I listen to it it's like my soul is sticking a fork in an electrical socket. That's the only way I can really describe it. I spent some time with a different friend yesterday and it was a nice distraction but it was a hollow exchange and when I came home I hit the bench until my chest and shoulders were on fire. Maybe my spirit is fighting something, or maybe it's just the cold weather that's draining me, or perhaps I'm just tired. I don't fucking know. I just need to work on my book until it's finished. Get that first draft completed and then worry about publishing it later. The thing is that sometimes when I'm working on a project interest wanes and I sort of feel like my writing is disingenuous and I need to capture something "real". The only real thing I've ever known is that I know fuck all about anything except wanting and wondering. I worry that I just don't have it in me anymore to commit to someone. I keep my options open to keep my sanity, not as an indictment towards anyone in particular. Just accept my flaws, accept me, and let me cry out my pent up bullshit in your arms. Maybe then we can start from somewhere fresh and new. The bullshit bled out of my system with leeches.

[hellsvestibule]

The thing about Lancelot is he’s wasted if you try to play to him too hard as a straightforward charming bishonen type when there are so so many others who hit that niche better than him without all the other baggage which sets him apart. What’s most fun about him for me is he ruins everything charming about himself by being sort of Frankenstein’s monster about it. They made the “perfect man” but kind of just made him Wrong so more than being charming he’s more of an existential nightmare who does not even see himself as fully alive and sentient unless he is reciprocating eye contact w somebody he loves, bc his existence is granted through validation of others rather than him permitting himself to exist on his own terms, so he’s constantly seized w existential dread and basically can not have a normal conversation without making it about death or describing love like a festering wound or something, like, he makes it all seem really unpleasant and not at all sexy. Fgo makes saber Lancelot like. Try. To overcome this and behave normally. But both his intro line, max bond CEs and Valentine’s Day, the moments where he has the opportunity to tell you what he’s really about in a positive sense, he’s still like, yeah I’m fixated on death. I kinda want to die. It’s almost fundamental to his character that his death drive is abnormally high which is actually a big part of the reason he does the insane shit he does, and often “love” serves as his more socially acceptable excuse to seek out things which harm him. He’s like well, if someone I love told me to stick a fork in an electrical socket I’d do it. for Love…, and everyone’s just standing around him shaking their heads like Lancelot literally nobody’s asking you to do that though…

[ceilingfan5]

Rockband + werecreatures au👀?

Listen! Sometimes you’re so close to going fucking insane that you have to push the final button yourself. You know? Sometimes you’re the camel and you’re so goddamn tired of all the goddamn straw–oops! How did that Last Straw get on there? Too late! You know? You’re the bug and the boot and you’re the squish and the stain and the absence, you’re the noise and the noise and the noise and the noise. 

Seems like Taako is always the noise, these days. It’s easy to be the noise. It’s easy to fill a room to the brim–to drop a flashbang and know people fucking saw something, they’ll remember something, but he got to pick what that something was. A lot harder to just… be in a space. Existing makes Taako itchy. Makes him feel like his skin’s about to peel off and his bones are gonna crack and warp and hideously reach for the gentle light of the moon, like he’s him and he’s a monster and the monster is him and he is the monster, always the monster–

It may or may not be that time of the month.

Which pisses him off, as he sits there noodling on the keyboard in their big hollow practice space. Whale fall of a band hall, the exposed ribs holding up the ceiling, the walls at a half-perceptible angle that no badge-wearing bitch ever could have signed off on, and when it’s full? When that parking lot is full, when all the bottom feeders have come to feast? Man, you can feel it in your bones. 

There are two ways to feel alive, and neither one is good for Taako’s blood pressure. 

He hammers on the keys, skin too fucking tight, heart beating too fucking fast, and his tempo is burning garbage, and those nasty neighbor kids left firecrackers in the trash again. He’s not even supposed to be here. He had a prior engagement. He had plans. He had hopes, once, dreams, even, but honestly, how embarrassing. He wants to rip and bite and tear and kill. He wants to riff so hard he forgets his name. He should get his guitar and plug it in instead, but he’s on the edge, and if something shoves him bodily over it, careening for a hard pause, he’ll fuck up the strings again and get in trouble. They aren’t famous enough yet to just break stuff. But oh, when that day comes…

Keyboard it is, until he can hold his claws back. D, D, B flat, C– no, no, no, fuck, it never sounds right. What the fuck was Magnus thinking? Idiot doesn’t have ears that perk at every passing car in the night. (Or…does he? He’ll have to google if bears have good hearing later.) He’s got his own problems, yeah, but Taako isn’t being understanding right now, he’s being an absolute bitch, and he can hardly stand himself. Break him open, he’ll be bright as super nova full of glow stick acid. How can anyone expect him to be calm and nice and good, not least himself? No wonder no one wants him. Easier to be the flashbang, to be the noise. 

“Taako?”

D, D, B flat, C– it isn’t going to work, not with these lyrics. What were they thinking? 

“Taako…”

“Fuck off,” Taako growls. Kravitz does not, in fact, fuck off. He’s incorrigible that way, always turning up like a bad penny. Maybe a counterfeit penny. This one is smiling. Makes you think, why shouldn’t the guy be pleased with himself once in a while? 

Smug fucker. 

“I’m not going to ask,” Kravitz says, being all understanding or some shit. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Sweet, I won’t, thanks for the permission, guy.” Taako hammers on all the keys at once. Maybe if Kravitz opens his mouth again he’ll straight up sit on the stupid thing. 

“But I could pick up drums or bass, if you want to jam?”

“I don’t want to jam. Unless we’re talking a fork in an electrical socket.” 

Kravitz nods like this isn’t a middle-school ass answer. Taako’s hardly thinking- well, hardly thinking at all, let alone clearly. Kravitz knows he’s pissed. Maybe if he were like Taako, he’d smell it on him, but you could have no nose at all and pick up on it right now, honestly. 

God, Taako wishes Kravitz could understand. 

“He stood me up,” he says, still feeling mean, mean, mean, fury burning up his bloodstream. “And you know what? You know how stupid- I thought this time would be different. Fucking-” he doesn’t have any words to follow. He wants to spit acid. Kravitz doesn’t seem bothered enough for him, as he swings himself up onto the stage. Stupid bastard ignoring the stairs to look cool. He’s feeling something, but Taako can’t figure it out. All the senses in the world don’t add up if you can’t focus to do the math. It’s just noise. 

“I’ll kill him and eat him for you, if you want,” Kravitz says, sitting heavily at the drumset. He starts tapping a countoff, setting the pace. 

“Nah,” Taako says, oddly touched. “He’s probably poisonous. Lawyer.”

“Fuck,” Kravitz says. “What are you doing, fucking lawyers?” He starts in on the drum solo of one of their best songs, and not one to miss a beat, Taako joins him. He wishes he could trust himself on the guitar right now. He needs to slam that motherfucker into another dimension. 

“I can fuck whoever I want.”

“You can, no judgment, just- Like you said. Poisonous.” Hard to hear him over the set. The noise beats in Taako’s chest, and he loves it. 

“Yeah. Maybe I’ve got a taste for it.” 

“Blegh,” Kravitz says, fully sticking his tongue out like a third grader. Taako’s surprised into laughing. 

“Yeah, alright, maybe I’m sulking. Shut up.” 

Kravitz snickers. The impending chorus looms. 

“Seriously, fuck whatever you like.”

“You don’t care?”

“Do you want me to care?” Kravitz doesn’t miss a beat. Asshole. 

What’s Taako supposed to say? He’s cornered.

“No,” he says, audibly delayed. 

Kravitz shakes his head. They miss the first chorus. 

“Cause if you want me to care, you know I will.”

“I do.” Taako’s skin writhes. He doesn’t want to talk. He just wanted to make noise. “I- I don’t know. Maybe I’m poisonous. I’ll bite you and you’ll die.” 

“Venomous?”

“Nerd.”

Kravitz cocks his head, not denying it. 

“I’m not afraid of your teeth.”

“Maybe you should be!” 

“Nah.” 

They both stop playing. The hall creaks, the silence echoes. 

Taako looks at him. 

“I know, Taako.” Kravitz fiddles with his sticks. “You want me to just say stuff? I’ll stop quipping. I know.” 

Taako stares at him. 

“What are you, some kind of were-chaser?” 

Kravitz laughs, startled. 

“I mean, it doesn’t turn me off-”

“Jesus!” Taako walks away from the keyboard, pacing. “You know? You know- and-”

“And I’d still kiss you.” 

“Hard to kiss with all those teeth,” Taako grumbles. 

“Tell me to fuck off, and I will. But you have to mean it.” Kravitz folds his arms. Taako looks at him. Kravitz stares right back. 

There’s no way Taako isn’t giving him pathetic sad puppy eyes right now. His night has sucked too bad, and he got too mad, and now he just feels like a stuffed animal dropped in the bathtub. 

“Can I make you dinner?” Kravitz asks, a little softer. Fucker. Knowing Taako’s too riled to go out right now. Damn him so hard. 

“No chance in hell,” Taako says pleasantly, even though his voice cracks nasty. “Cause that is poisonous. Buy me steak.”

“Yeah,” Krav says, giving him the biggest, mooniest eyes. “Anything you like.”

[abbinurmel]

I had an interesting Bee and Puppycat "Lazy In Space" theory just pop up in my head...🐝🐢💫🤡🐱

So. At one point in the show the audience sees a flashback scene, where Bee's dad is watching Bee as a toddler at the beach with Puppycat.

Bee's dad says at some point here: "She's really full of energy!...she really likes you. Sorry your ship isn't done yet, I'll let you know when it's fixed."

...remember that birthday song that was sung by Bee's music box/power charger from her dad? The song that when taken at face value sounds like a normal sweet b-day greeting, but in full knowledge of her robot origins, we know has a more deeper meaning to its lyrics?

...what if he wasn't in this flashback commentating on the way the toddler Bee was behaving here. What if like the birthday song was doing before we realized Bee's cyborg anatomy in the Donut Planet episode, Bee's dad is saying an entirely different secret meaning that we as uninformed viewers are only meant to take at face value? What if he is commenting on the fact that bee IS LITERALLY GETTING CHARGED FULL OF ENERGY. Like she is a robot. Or to be specific, battery power cell.

He helped Team Puppycat aka Violet/The Space Outlaw aboard their ship with his inventions in early childhood to harvest "candy", and inside those candies (which supposedly earn mysterious 'prizes') is what is described as pure cosmic energy. In the future, Bee's dad for every birthday sends Bee a piece of that strange energy candy to eat thru her repair/recharge box. The box which HE seems to currently be residing in (or at least some avatar or replica or spiritual essence of him, we do not quite know yet how that works out.)

We also see something else that gained a lot of fan theories in this flashback: Baby Bee is trying to stick a fork in a wall socket at some point and Puppycat stops her. We may at first assume this is just human Bee doing what all innocent babies do. A lot of folks speculate that current grownup Bee is either a cyborg who was resurrected or some mechanical doppleganger to replace the Inventor's lost daughter, when she perished. A lot of people assume if she died her death is due to drowning, thanks to her phobia towards water. But what if...Bee is NOT a doppleganger, or even someone that was ever organically fully human for most of her life, if any? What if she wasn't poking the wall out of infantile dumbness but by pure instinct to seek and fill her body up with electricity. With ENERGY. And what if her fears of the ocean and getting wet are not due to a suppressed trauma due to drowning but because since she KNOWS she is a machine, she KNOWS as a living device that it is not good for her circuitry to get wet?? Not only does being a type of AstroBoy / Skydoll/ CP30 type of android explain Bee's oddball nature, why she says things like 'everyone feels ticklish on the roofs of their mouths, except me...' it also explains WHY SHE DOESN'T AGE NORMAL. She might not physically or mentally ever age at all because she literally doesn't, she CAN'T until she receives new physical upgrades directly given to her by her father.

Bee speaks fondly about her father. And he seems gentle in mannerisms. But we do not at this point truly know what his motives are or what the connection with his daughter really is. Bee's dad seems to never write or text or send any video calls- DESPITE BEING A SUPER GENIUS with the obvious tech brilliance to easily do so. We never see him actually praise her or teach her human life skills. This explains why she keeps food in a toilet and lacks often basic social cues. Bee has a wistful, bittersweet way of talking about her father. What if she misses him, purely because she wants to have a relationship of any kind in the first place? What if she longs for him, not because she was loved so dearly as a child, but because she wants ANY type of a parent/child or scientist creator/robot creation bond at all? Why is Bee's dad biding his time in that box of hers? Is it because he is a distant parent, or is he aware of some dangers she physically presents? Bee has massive strength, but I think we have only just scratched the surface of her powers. Because why else does she have a self destruction sequence deliberately programmed onto her charging station? Why does it count down every birthday to destroy her, unless she reports back? Is it because she is like a walking talking nuclear fuel rod, and if she were to go rogue somehow, or disobey her programming, it might result in a devastating meltdown chain reaction? Or she might glitch and go on a mindless Terminator style rampage?

Why else would Bee's father act so jovial yet distant toward her, if all he ever saw her was as a successful other invention of his? He might be proud of her existence, but not enough to treat her with paternal care. This is why *Puppycat* aka The Space Outlaw only acts as her caregiver nanny in the flashbacks. Not him! What if she was only ever built to sustain or become a physical part of Team Puppycats' ship, perhaps to even just exist as an AI system with a sentient consciousness, similar to the Improbability Engine in the Douglas Adams books, or animes like "Outlaw Star?"

My final point to make: now, in the present day, back on the island, there is a soft drink company that seems to be everywhere called ENERGY FOR WORK. There is a thumbs up logo on the branding, and that icon appears not just on the drink cans that Cass always fuels herself up on, but it can be also found on merchandise all over the island and on the clothes of island residents in the background. Know where else this icon shows up?...Right back where we started! In the flashback, aboard Team Puppycats' spaceship. Look closely and you will find it there in the background screens. Near code work that looks almost exactly like what Cass was typing up! 🤯

Yes yes I know this a long essay and all is wildly speculative. It could be just all a coincidence... but I was there, being a very early guesser long before the whole Pink Diamond affair. So I doubt it. 🤓

[201xs]

cw for um. talking about being suicidal in the past

one of the most isolating and horrific things about being suicidal or even ever having been suicidal is having to constantly reassure everyone in your life that you aren't a ticking time bomb that's going to sneak off and kill yourself as quickly as possible before anyone can stop you. you cant talk about how you feel or you'll be hospitalized & treated like an out of control toddler who wants nothing more than to stick a fork in the electrical socket. i have debilitating chronic pain and for a period that lasted years i had to ask my parents (who both have full time jobs) whenever i wanted over the counter painkillers because they were convinced that the moment they left me alone for more than 2 hours with Advil that i was going to overdose and die. its truthfully exhausting

same thing when people ask me if im okay when i draw something even a little sad. i know the people in my life care about me but it just feels like im being talked down to. but what are ya gonna do

[dandunn]

Oohh these prompt writings are so fun to read, how about this for a prompt... de-aged Lupin and the gang (with/without Zenigata)

I was going to skip this ask honestly because I thought it wasn't my kind of thing but I did it and ended up being surprised. Uh. Also this is only part 1. Enjoy???

Lupin is losing his shit. As in 'holding in his sides trying not to die' laughing. It's the funniest thing he's ever seen.

"CAN IT SHIT FOR BRAINS! IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Jigen bellows, the insult would be as intimidating as the throaty roar of a lion in any normal situation. But this isn't a normal situation. It comes out as the high-pitched squeak of a kitten.

Because Jigen is six years old. And adorable!

Jigen's protests only cause a fresh lunatic howl of laughter to burst out of Lupin. He wipes tears off of his face, dabbing his cheeks with the sleeve of his pink jacket. Little Jigen stamps his foot and pouts. His hat is too big for his head now and keeps sliding off.

"Oh I'm gonna die!" Lupin says breathlessly, "Where's Goemon? Did he get hit too?"

From out behind the hefty piece of machinery comes the most shell-shocked little boy Lupin has ever seen, his robes wrapped around himself like a blanket and his now far too big sword dragging behind him.

"Ohh." Lupin coos, his eyes filling with tears again. 

"Cease." Baby Goemon murmurs, his chubby cheeks turning red. "Do not say what I think you are going to say."

Lupin can't help himself. His face twists up in an effort to hold his squeal back, but it's too late, "You're so…. Cuuuuuute!"

Goemon attempts to draw his sword, but his arms aren't long enough and it catches halfway in its sheath. His feet get tangled in his robes and he falls on his ass.

Both of his partners turned children stare up at him.

Why'd it have to be me that gets stuck as the only adult here? Lupin thinks, I'm not exactly a role model!

"This is gonna be a problem if we get attacked." Lupin says, scratching the back of his neck, "Unless the guys who made this machine have a weakness for being kicked in the shins."

"Lupin when I get back to normal I am going to kill you!" Little Jigen meows again, struggling to pick up his combat magnum with his tiny hands. "How do we change back?! The controls on the machine-?"

"Do you really want me to go messing around with unknown technology, what if I press the wrong button and you both end up eighty years old?"

"Point."

Unfortunately for Jigen and Goemon someone else makes the decision for them.

They start being shot at.

"No time to figure it out, off we go!" Lupin cries as he scoops up both of his partners and bolts. Jigen tries to cover Lupin's back as he dangles under one of his arms, the knockback so severe with his underdeveloped muscles that the entire gun almost flies back and knocks him upside the head. 

This isn't good. 

They barely get out of the laboratories in one piece, and Lupin's arms are not built for carrying two deadly little children at once. He's wheezing and has had to dodge more than a couple of bullets by the time they escape.

Back at the hideout, Lupin drops the two kids before heading out to buy them some clothes (making them promise not to use the stove or stick forks in electrical sockets until he gets back. Jigen throws an ashtray at him but it falls short).

Once they aren't drowning in their adult clothes anymore they all sit down to take stock. 

Unfortunately tailored suits and kimono robes for six year olds aren't easy to find, so Jigen gets a shirt with a dinosaur wearing a cowboy hat and Goemon gets Kamen Rider.

Lupin couldn't find a miniature borsalino either, so Jigen gets to keep his ludicrously oversized hat. The sight of it keeps making Lupin snicker so much he can barely stand to look at his poor gunman.

"So, what happened, what was it like?" Lupin says, enjoying this a bit too much despite how grumpy his partners are.

"You mean what it was like going through puberty in reverse? Not fun!" Jigen says, the couch practically swallowing him up. He reaches for a cigarette out of habit but Lupin stops him.

"I may be a lot of things but I'm not someone who allows a baby to smoke."

"Fuck you."

"That machine." Goemon says slowly, "we were lured into the room with it on purpose, this was done to us to take away our strength."

"Makes sense. Everyone knows how awesome and unstoppable we are." Lupin preens, "They probably think I'm helpless without you two."

"It is true." Goemon snipes. 

Jigen folds his tiny arms, grumpily staring at the cigarette box in Lupin's hands like a regular kid would look at a box of candy. "So we break back into the facility and threaten them into changing us back!"

"What's your rush, Jigen?" Lupin muses.

"What do you mean 'what's your rush?' Of course we want to get back to normal!"

"You just want to smoke." Goemon clips, and Jigen looks like he's considering getting in a baby fist fight with him.

"I'm thinking practically! What if we end up stuck like this?! What if we have to grow up all over again; voice cracking, high school - zits!"

Lupin shrugs, waving a hand, "Something something a chance to relive your youth?"

"Why on earth would we want to do that?" Goemon deadpans. "I wish to be restored to my true age as soon as humanly possible."

Lupin tries not to start giggling again, hearing Goemon's darkly formal serious voice coming out of such a cute little package. He gets a hold of himself. "Look, when we broke into the facility I had help from both of you and now I have to think of a plan to get us back in without Jigen's shooting or Zantetsuken. Just… make the best of it you can until I do that. Did either of you even have childhoods?"

The two boys turn to look at each other, Jigen lifting up his hat to shoot Goemon a quirky look from underneath his bangs. 

"My point exactly." Lupin stands up to go back to the drawing board. "Play with some blocks, take a nap or something. Don't pee your pants. I'll be as fast as I can."

Before he goes to shut himself in his room with his planning desk, he remembers something. He turns back quickly to grab Jigen's cigarettes and puts them on top of the highest wardrobe in the room. "And no smoking!"

If Lupin had a dollar for every time a six year old had flipped him off he would have about two dollars. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

[deuterosapiens]

Just found out about Omegle shutting-down. I totally get it, that place was a hell-scape in the actual worst ways, but I still feel sort, I don't know, weird about it.

I used to use it when I was having some of my worst emotional days to find people to anonymously vent my problems to. Sometimes people actually listened and talked and I felt kind of okay.

I mean, yeah, some of the actual worst wastes of human zygotes stalked and hunted and preyed on it. And its fully anonymous user-base meant there was very little to protect its users: the same kind of anonymity that protects the freaks and sex-offenders hurt the curious, the confused, those who didn't know enough (through no fault of their own) to protect themselves from terrible people.

I think I always took for granted the strange-ness of a chat service without user-profiles. Where it was a feature, rather than a limitation one had to actively go out of their way to restrict their user experience to create.

I don't think there's a good word in English for how I feel about it. Guiltily nostalgic? No. Depressed, bummed-out? Not really. It's a thing that used to be there and isn't anymore and there's a sense of loss, not because the thing missing was valuable or important, bit because it's simply a thing that's gone and wasn't before.

You could go your entire life never one sticking your tongue into an electrical socket, but the moment you are told you can no longer stick your tongue into an electrical socket because electrical sockets no longer exist and there will never again be electrical sockets, you feel almost a slight something. The ever-so-brief desire to jam a metal fork into an electrical socket solely on the basis that you can't anymore, not because of rules or morals or anything, but because forks also don't exist anymore and so now you couldn't even if you wanted to.

The Caligula effect refers to the desire to do something you shouldn't. I'm feeling something like a nostalgic regret seeped perhaps slightly in the dregs of the desire to briefly inflict intense psychological damage by switching to a site that doesn't exist anymore. Call it Caligula's Nostalgia. Or something. I'm not a psychologist.

[crystalpower]

✨ it can't be bought / it can't be seen / the answer is: mental toughness.

🌙 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟏    :    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.    

NAME: virote srisati.

EYE COLOUR: dark brown.

HAIR STYLE  /  COLOUR: jet black, various short styles. may occasionally dye it from anything to blue to blond to red.

HEIGHT: 5′0”. very tiny, very bold.

CLOTHING STYLE: high fashion and fun and beautiful! from various styles to your 2007 mall goth model re-up, to cyber thot, to versace robe drip. likes to also buy a lot of one of a kind pieces from small boutique sellers, especially if it’s jewelry. shades of black and pink and periwinkle and blues and greens. he likes to dress down and keep it really lazy, too. the clothes don’t wear him. he wears the clothes. and he makes them look great.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: his  smile... everything rly...,

✨ 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟐    :    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.    

FEARS: feeling restricted, loss of autonomy, being misinterpreted. he’s a control freak about himself. other than that... nothing. heehee.

GUILTY PLEASURE: he’s not a fucking catholic. he don’t feel guilty about anything.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: people who never feel moved about anything. they annoy him in a way that can’t be described... like. he’s not someone to break down and cry over a song, but he can appreciate things for the way they’re meant to touch the soul and heart. actually i lied about the crying over a song part. he’s spent many nights in his bathtub sobbing to sexy r&b with sad lyrics.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: to help someone. anyone.

🌙 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟑    :    𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: what kind of smoothie to make, if he should take a run around the block before taking a shower, plans for the day, how his self-image issues are crushing him, tbh.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: depends on the day and how busy he is! sometimes thinking about work, sometimes thinking about smoking weed and popping half a xan and going to sleep for about 12 hours.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: if he got all his emails sorted out and answered... lol. and sometimes he has to double, triple check because it runs him a little crazy sometimes. but hey that’s why he keeps a tablet at his bedside.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: his creativity and how he’s applied it to many parts of his life. especially as someone who makes mental health his life’s work.

✨ 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟒    :    𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒    𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: single. group dates are distracting and lame.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: you can’t have one without the other for him. if you can’t respect him, you could never love him. he needs both in a relationship. love is never enough. it’ll never be enough.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: both. he’s not one of those people that are like... not picky about looks. he wants to be physically attracted. and you don’t have to be super smart... just don’t stick a fork in an electrical socket and y’all good. emotional intelligence is more important than book smarts, anyway.

DOGS OR CATS: both are cute, but he’s a cat person.

🌙 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟓    :    𝐃𝐎    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

LIE: not really. he withholds information if it’s a bit too personal sometimes, but he doesn’t straight up lie and bury it like it never existed.

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: some days it’s burdensome, but yes. :)

BELIEVE IN LOVE: all the time. even if he feels cold some days, it always comes back to him.

WANT SOMEONE: does he?

✨ 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟔    :    𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘    𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…

BEEN ON STAGE: often! for theater back in the day, for dance, for seminars, et cetera. even to this day. he’s a beast at performance and public speaking, it’s a little scary.

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: he would never.

🌙 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟕    :    𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.

FAVOURITE COLOUR: black, periwinkle.

FAVOURITE ANIMAL: cats, various types of birds and moths and slugs.

FAVOURITE BOOK: hardboiled and hard luck by banana yoshimoto.

FAVOURITE GAME: does... dance dance revolution... count....

✨ 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟖    :    𝐀𝐆𝐄.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: july 21st 2023.

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE: 29.

🌙 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑    𝟎𝟎𝟗    :    𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

I LOVE: the ability to love.

I FEEL: a weird mix of tired and satisfied. can’t go on, but i want to.

I HIDE: nothing, if i feel like the atmosphere is right.

I MISS: the sunlight in chiang mai mountains.

I WISH: every child grows up heard and safe.

*title of the post from fight the blues by utada hikaru. ur welcome for the rec.

✨ TAGGED BY: @consvlting ty, ✨ TAGGING: @enztonov @opportuning for nadiya!! @bewitchingbaker @gormez @bledwaves​ @themechaneer @diicktective @starfoam @wolfvirago + um if i didnt tag u but i wanna do it go ahead?? :)

[troglobite]

hmmm

okay watching this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3HFGijKwQw

around the 54 minute mark (just before) they're talking about how realizing that, at the stage of life they're in, maybe they're dealing w their own shit that they used to see in adults when they were kids

the lack of light in the eyes, the tiredness, the "thank goodness you kids are here to give us this spark of joy and hope" and whatever

and i'm like

[stares at my childhood]

ostensibly not as bad as at least one of the people in/having that conversation in that video

and yet.

i look back at my childhood and i experience anxiety and fear and judgment and uncertainty

i loved learning, there was wonder there, and that feels the same now as it did then, in some ways, i think?

but i can't connect at all with this idea that they've now lost hope as adults.

and i'm not trying to be this fucking edgelord or whatever

i just genuinely cannot think of moments of pure joy from my childhood

okay i'll try

times w my dog, misty. times w my bird/parakeet, cuckoo.

sometimes playing games. not always--games sometimes meant severe anxiety or confusion.

um. being held. but that was often bc i needed comfort bc of extreme anxiety.

um.

oh there's one i don't remember personally but my mom shares--going to disneyland as a tiny kid and seeing cinderella and just BOLTING for her. shyest kid imaginable, i ran away from my parents in public. absurd.

um.

yeah just. literally everything has a tinge of anxiety or fear or confusion or uncertainty or feeling unmoored attached to it.

i was the classic "old soul" at times.

i also can NEVER connect w this idea that kids don't understand longterm consequences.

i did. as much as i could, i did.

i figured that shit out at 2 years old with a story that also explains a current phobia so i won't go into it.

i literally figured that shit out as the youngest i could possibly be to figure it out, and from then on i was like "nope, no thanks, i'm good"

self-preservation, often thinking through potential consequences, etc. i didn't know what it meant to be 20 years old, no. i didn't understand that. but i understood consequences and that sort of thing.

partly that was bc my parents would explain that shit to us. "if you do this, then this will happen" like rather than say "don't do that bc i say so/bc it's dangerous" they'd EXPLAIN like "if you stick a fork in a light socket you'll get hurt. that's bc the metal conducts the electricity and it goes into your body, and that is very bad and dangerous." shit like that. "don't touch a stove when i'm cooking. it's VERY hot, and not only is it hot and therefore will it hurt, but it can ruin your skin and make it hurt for weeks and weeks."

i was taught how to use the stove before i was 10. they showed me how it worked, how to check for leaking gas, when to NOT try and spark the gas bc it'd been leaking for too long. how to not touch hot things, how to be careful using pots and pans, etc.

i mean ffs i was taught how to drive at 10 years old. we had a bigass yard so my dad taught me.

and quite literally the problem in high school that i had with driving was NOT figuring out how to use the car, it was entirely getting over the TERROR of being in control of a giant metal thing around other people who i didn't trust, and having to make split second decisions.

though to be fair i still can't drive stick, i never learned. i probably could, but i am REALLY small and kind of weak now, so i think it'd go very badly.

anyway i'm rambling.

i can't relate with how people describe being a kid.

my memories of being a reckless little shit stop at like age 3 or 4. i IMMEDIATELY learned what consequences were and how to try and manage my own emotions and actions at that point.

i yelled at my dad and slammed my door once when i was VERY young.

there was a bath towel on top of my door and my door got stuck. i literally was SO careful abt slamming my door past then.

even now when i'm furious and want to slam something, i evaluate how hard i can do the thing so that it's satisfying, but won't break anything. like i'm never gonna damage something on purpose. i have been evaluating that sort of thing p much my entire life.

when ppl say as kids they "just didn't know" i can't relate. i was too afraid to find out, and i had other avenues to learn.

there's a post on here abt showing kids how baking works by testing out all their questions and "wasting" those ingredients to teach them.

and i absolutely understand the value in that!

and at the same time there's a part of me inside like

CAN YOU NOT JUST LISTEN AND LEARN AND TRUST SOMEONE IF YOU ARE GIVEN SOUND INFORMATION THAT YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF IN MYRIAD OTHER WAYS????

but no, they can't. and they shouldn't have to.

but that's how i operated.

and idk how fucked up that is. i'm not saying i'm special or Better or ANYTHING.

i started this by saying that i have no joy from my childhood. brief moments of it. having fun at recess, maybe.

but then i was also bullied and weird and people treated me like that.

i was always perpetually afraid of doing something wrong. i didn't test limits, i tried to observe them and figure them out and then stay within them. i didn't want to test them.

and idek why. it's not like i was ever DESTROYED for going outside them or testing them. idk man.

this is the part of me that i want to figure out.

why was i BORN SO AFRAID.

i just was. i was born scared.

and i guess that's the autism, right?

the world is so much scarier to an autistic person.

but it feels so unsatisfying as an answer. i'm just angry, i guess, that i was born so afraid. my mom feels guilt for it but i feel like, although she may have helped facilitate a few specific fears, she helped me navigate fear bc she treated it as legitimate.

then i just also have ocd so i'm always afraid even when i logically know i don't need to be.

i don't understand this idea of childhood joy. and i'm even a person who's been like "yeah i kinda wish i could be a kid again" but to me i picture something different to what i had, and i mostly want to abdicate all responsibility that i currently have.

idfk man.

anyway. rant over i guess.

[time-to-leaf]

That's just a thing mean adults say too make kids do what they want and take away their agency. Yes, you should listen to your parents sometimes, like when they tell you not to stick a fork in an electrical socket or play in the tall grass without a Pokemon, but you don't always have too listen too them. After all, you seem pretty smart yourself.

Plus, adults can be real stupid sometimes too. Like Team Rocket.

i....red's mum isn't mean...very much. But i have to listen to adults, they're older and smarter. Even if i'm smart they're smarter! right you have to listen to your elders...

Team Rocket is so dumb!! I hate them!!! ...maybe i dont have to listen to all adults..

[licorishh]

"Everyone's a little ADHD"

you should throw your cup full of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should go run over to that stranger and kiss them cause hey you've never done that before and you should shout a curse word at the top of your lungs just to see what that person over there would do if you did and you should grab that butter knife you just put in the drawer and as a test to see if it'd work as well as a steak knife you should poke yourself in the shoulder would that feel funny? maybe i don't know now run away from home even if you have a great relationship with your parents tie yourself to a tree and wait and see if someone will notice you're gone snap your phone in half purposefully try to hyperextend your knee you've done it before and it didn't hurt that bad so why would it hurt to do it again? everyone is watching you it's so loud it's so bright you want to strangle that person over there because they're chewing too loudly and that light is flickering and your head is splitting open and if someone looks at you again you're gonna start crying but you're in a class you can't run out of the room you're stuck you're stuck you're trapped wait what did the teacher say? you missed that when was the due date she didn't write it down now you don't know what you need the bell is ringing the class is over the teacher is busy with other students you're still sitting here you're wasting time the next class is starting soon wait was there homework? probably not you would've written it down if there were so you can leave now you home you're tired wait did you eat lunch? no you didn't have time you're starving you make yourself a sandwich hey you should throw your cup of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should throw your sandwich on the floor so you have to remake it again or you could leave it there and let the dog eat it even though you know it would make him incredibly sick wait your mom is calling you you forgot to do the dishes ok stop making the sandwich do the dishes finish the dishes check your phone oh that artist posted! scroll through pinterest an hour goes by you forgot to eat the meat and cheese are still out and they're probably spoiled you put them back in the fridge and hope your parents won't notice and now it's time to go to bed and your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep and morning comes and it happens again and again and again.

But sure, "Everyone's a little ADHD."

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Thoughts and rambles

I really do want to get top surgery in the future, but for now I just bind. I feel like I would be a lot happier and more euphoric being able to take off my shirt and see it's completely flat and also just feel the sun on my chest. Literally a weight lifted off of my chest. My chest isn't even that big to begin with (32A I'm guessing? Idfk I only wear binders now pfffff-) but still causes dysphoria.

I kind of wanted to draw myself with top surgery scars with my shirt off at the beach or pool, or just laying around in sweat pants with one of my f/os or something. I already kind of drew myself laying on one of my f/os while we're in our underwear and sleeping. If I woke up tomorrow and had no breasts I would legit feel relieved-

After top surgery I'd totally be one of those people who say,"Man I'm glad I got THAT off my chest" for the next week and a half and even get a t shirt with that phrase on it heheheh

Getting called,"young man" has me ascend by the way-

But yeah, seriously thinking about drawing myself shirtless, top surgery scars I might have in the future, flat chest, feeling free

Random but I want to see how long my hair actually can get until I get tired of it, then I'll probably cut it to my shoulders. I'm just curious for the most part. My hair is violently curly because my mom's Hispanic and everyone on her side has tornado twists. For real, as soon as a drop of water gets on my hair, it curls up like a dead spider -_- I have to constantly straighten the freerf out of it 🥲 no it's not pretty bouncy dainty curls, we're talking Isaac Newton sticking a fork in an electrical socket curls-

But anyway, I would like to look like Botw Link or Diego Brando for the most part... Even though I'm not blonde and I don't plan on becoming blonde in the future 😭 I just think they're neat- plus I dress up as Link all the time 💪 next comic con I go to, I'll be Botw Link, full blue tunic and stuff heheh!

Yeah, but yeah, I'm a lot happier with my gender now 💪