#fucked up society on a floating rock

[cupuasu]

not gonna lie to you lads and gents but next year im gonna be 24 still living with mom no job no will to live and just rotting away and rawdogging university and by the time i finish it (300 years from now) im gonna be a zombie and im not even gonna want to work with architecture because this city is fucked beyond anything and i cannot fix it in my lifetime no matter how much i want to because no one really cares about it and i realised maybe i shouldnt care either. i feel empty and every year that passes just makes me realise i really shouldve killed myself in 2013 and i know i say that a lot but its the truth. feeling temporary happiness and pretending things are okay and that life is worth living just for me to feel the complete opposite of that 30 mins later likeeee is anyone else living like this lol !?! all i have going for me right now is spending hours daydreaming about a life i will never have because i was doomed from the very beginning to live a miserable life. of course i will try to make it better and i will try to get less depressed and try to 'be normal' but i cannot help to feel this way right now.

[babyjakes]

earn it. [blurb.]

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event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | if you want your daddy's cock, you're gonna have to earn it.

pairing | daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. fairly soft!daddy!bucky but he does force an orgasm out of reader. thigh riding. begging/pleading. fingering/clit play. (implied) multiple orgasms. overstimulation. praise. petnames. squirting. implied p in v.

word count | 308

requested by @vase-of-lilies | I'm excited about your event! If I could request a Bucky fic where the reader is super needy and just wants to ride his cock, but Bucky is a menace so he makes her ride his thigh first, then he takes super good care of her after being such a good girl for him, so she earns lots of overstimulation because she listened to him the first time! I hope that it is not too much or too little! I just love needy!reader and menace to society!Bucky lol!

an | okay soooo i haven't written for bucky in ages but i really really really wanted to write this request for you friend, thank you so much for sending it in 🥺🤍 i looove thigh riding and overstim so this was just the perfect little idea, thank you for sending it in and i hope you enjoy friend!!! <333

"Please Daddy, pretty please!"

"I'll be good for you, Daddy— I'll be sooo good if you let me!"

"Pleeease Daddy, need your cock! Need it in me, please, please, please!"

Your desperate words fall on deaf ears as your daddy bounces you on his bare thigh, his big hands supporting you by the waist as you sniffle and whine into his shoulder. "Shhh, pumpkin. C'mon, give me one more. Cum one more time for Daddy, and then you can have it, sweet girl."

"N-no Daddy, please," you beg again, your little hips jerking as he grinds you down more forcefully against his flexed thigh, the thick bands of his muscles hitting right up against your weakest spots.

"But you're doing so good, baby. So good for me, yeah? Just wanna see you cum one more time. You know how much I love seeing you fall apart like this. Doesn't it feel good, baby doll? Don't you like riding Daddy's thigh?"

"Y-ye-es Daddy, but—"

"Shhh," he shushes you again, reaching a hand down to move things along by rubbing your poor, puffy clit. Your hands dig into his shoulder blades as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head pounding as you hear Bucky whisper, "C'mon, baby. Let go for me. That's it..."

He coos loving praises as you squirt helplessly against his leg. He keeps rocking you on top of him as you ride the waves of your orgasm, letting out the sweetest little hums and moans against the familiar safety of his t-shirt.

"That's my girl," he murmurs proudly, kissing the side of your head as you float back down from your high. "Did so good for Daddy, 'm so proud of you, angel. Now let's get you all spread out on your back and ready for me, hmm? Think you've finally earned a good fucking from Daddy."

[tarotwithavi]

How would a writer describe your character in a book?

Piles : 1-2

3-4

Masterlist

Paid services

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes, politely ask your spirit guides and angels to show the right pile for you. Open your eyes and the first picture that attracts you is the right pile for you. You may choose two or more piles.

I'll be writing all the piles in first person POV so you can read it as if it's your inner thoughts.

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Pile 1

As a kid I was always curious of people and how they act but no matter how much I tried I could never understand emotions. One time they'll die for someone and the other minute you mean nothing to them. I felt as if people are hypocrites. They'll be nice and respectful to your face but say the nastiest things at your back.

As I grew up, my curiosity to understand people flew away and have never seen it since then. I want to isolate myself from society but I think I will not survive alone. I could never understand humans and understanding a community is way worse. At first they'll make you become addicted to company and when you'll want to live alone, the side effects of this addiction will cause you to k*ll yourself. What a great scam is that.

An author would describe your character as a person who can't / isn't able to understand humans and always feels like an outcast. They try to find meaning in meaningless things and is sort of gloomy. Who hopes to find someone or something to live by. But gets depressed in the way, in the end the only hope they have left is themselves.

Masterlist

Pile 2

I want to explore this world, explore the highest mountains to the deepest caves, from the blue oceans to the evergreen forests. This world makes me excited. This world is magical. People who don't believe in magic are missing out on great excitements. Like we are literally living on a magical rock that is floating around in a pit of mysteries and mysterious things.

I have some abilities , magical abilities so to precise and with those abilities comes a lot of responsibilities. I am not saying I don't like that but I want sometime for myself. All day long just looking after people and fighting off evil is tiring. People say I'm special but what about me? Do I not have the right to enjoy my life? I absolutely love helping people and love being victorious. But sometimes I just want to run away alone. Away from all these responsibilities , just me alone.

An author would describe your character as an extremely passionate person who is an explorer. You will definitely be in a fantasy novel being the main character, your character will have a lot of responsibilities considering you'll have magical abilities. You'll solve mysterious , help people and fight off evil. Your character would be described as a happy and joyous person who is tried of responsibilities.

Masterlist

Pile 3

My parents always told me that being a royal meant not having loyal and real friends . I didn't believe them because I had real friend or so I thought. Point to be noted HAD. The people who I thought were my friends come out to be the most poisonous snakes. I'm wondering how the fuck did I survive all that. I believed everything they said, entrusted my secrets to them and even gave them a luxurious life.

Guess they took me for granted. Growing up I hated the word "revenge". Just hearing it gave me chills because I didn't understand why would people want bad for the people they once cared for. But I guess life had different plans for me. Hah! Never knew the word I hated so much growing would become the main motive of my life. Now all I can think about is the word I hated so much. It's true when they say you became what you despise. So kids never hate something, who knows you might become it in future.

You would be described as a character who is of royal background and and had suffered a lot of betrayal in their life. After going thought all these Betrayals and heart breaks you character would have no choice but to want revenge. Funny how I'm not seeing any romantic interests here because you novel would have a revenge plot.

Masterlist

Pile 4

People always told me how lucky I was to be born in the imperial family. They always told how I was their future and forced their customs on me from a very young age. The dance lessons, the history classes and the courtesy lessons meant nothing to me. I never wanted to become the Emperor/Empress. I never asked for all that.

Maybe if I was born in a normal family I would have enjoyed what a family environment is? Only then I would have known what love is. Maybe I should just run away? Maybe I should fake my death? But doing this will take a lot of courage I don't have. I never stood up for myself. I don't know what being real is anymore. I wish to find myself, I wish to find the child who lost his/her childhood. Who never got to enjoy life. Will I find what people call love if I run away? A few friends I guess? Who knows maybe I would die like this? Maybe.....

Another oyal character but in your story, your character would be forced to act a certain way, you know to satisfy the society on how a royals should be, how they are forced to act in front of people. Your story would be about your character finding their true self that they thought they would never find. Letting go of customs of society and being their true self.

Masterlist

I'm not a writer but I tried to explain haha pardon me if you find typos up there.

[conniesrockstargf]

Rant of 9/27/23

Y'know one of the best things about being 19 is? The limbo of leaving the teens to being a starter adult.

It's the age where people 25+ constantly tell you that you're too young for A, too young to feel B, too young to know about C. It's so demeaning and invalidating.

I'll say, that as a girl who worked 3 jobs in her first semester of college, freshly 18, I'm fucking exhausted. I'm the oldest daughter of my family (which is a whole cause for therapy in its fucking self) which means that I've spent literally my whole life up to now, taking care of family. When i was 3, my grandmother kicked me and my 3 month old little brother out of her residence because she got into a spat with my mom. Even before that i was taking care of my younger siblings. When on family vacations, i am involuntarily designated babysitter (for children and (drunk) adults).

I work two jobs. One in a hospital kitchen, full time and the other as a barista part time. I am constantly on my feet for 7+ hours a day, tending to people who could care less about me.

When i was 16, i almost committed suicide in my bathroom. Still haven't been to therapy. 🩷

As a person having been through the bulllshit of life, it's really fucking frustrating when "older" adults try to disqualify my experiences because I'm young. Age has nothing to do with it! We all experience things differently and at different times, but that doesn't mean that anyone's journey is invalid.

I am a black, queer girl. I've got ENOUGH problems 😭. I don't need some millennials and oldheads in my face trying to tell me that I can't be tired or feel overwhelmed.

If i have every right to be grateful then i have every right to fucking complain. If i say I'm tired, I'm tired. If i say my feet fucking hurt, they hurt. If i say that i like Hello Kitty, i fucking like Hello Kitty. These older generations need to get through their heads that this generation is still human. Regardless of any technological advances or any other bs that our species comes up with, at the end of the day, nothing can make us more or less of a human than the next person. We have been beaten down by society forcing heteronormative, gender-biased, and eurocentric stereotypes and roles on us, which only hinder the true experience of being a human. We're surviving instead of living. It's truly a cruel world.

We're on a floating rock in the middle of fucking space and you're trying to argue about work ethic?! Please stfu.

Just enjoy the time that you have here and spread kindness. I don't understand why we can't do this 😞😭.

THIS PLACE FUCKING BLOWS 👎🏾

^^^ i do make them for fun, so if you wanna send an idea for any, my asks are always open.

I'll do anything I'm familiar with,

; tv shows, movies, characters, music, art, fashion, etc.

[neoyi]

Okay, within the first twelve pages, the comic has stated:

A few years have apparently passed, which confuses me because all the characters look the same??? Maybe they're going by floating timeline. Tucker has a smartphone now. ...Then again, the first smartphone came out around 2008ish, roughly around the time the show ended. I guess it'd make sense for Tucker to rock one before anyone else does, buuuuut I'm guessing they're just going with "this story is a sequel to the show set within a few years, but the few years is nebulous because we're evoking floating timeline." Fair enough.

Dash, Star, and Kwan is part of a city-wide ghost protecting squad hemmed by the Fentons, continuing the nice little character details that bully and shallowly popular they may be, they're not evil little shits; they're decent kids and people who've constantly supported DP in his line of work. Them volunteering to keep Amity Park safe is genuinely cool of them and really, sets them up with a future where they can grow up NOT to be dick heads.

Tucker was mayor for all of 48 hours before they restored the previous mayor because he accidentally dropped a baby omg fucking tucker making him a politician was stupid and made no damn sense.

Mayor Tucker felt like a last-minute ending to give him something because by the end of the show, no one had any damn clue what to do with him. His entire personality was that he was a Horny Nerd and very little beyond it in spite of some promises. Like Danny is accepted by his loved ones (and the world.) Sam gets Danny. Vlad loses. Etc etc. Bullshit aside, you could argue their journeys have led them to where they are by the end of the show.

Tucker's biggest character study was his second banana status. He didn't have the cool ghost powers his oldest, bestest friend had; they were both "losers" in their teenage wasteland society, but Tucker didn't get a super power. There was no equality between the two of them anymore - not in his eyes anyway. The one time he does get 'em, he fucked it up epically because he gave in far too easily into his insecurities. There was a story there, and rarely did it ever get explored. Giving Tucker a key to the entire city would have been disastrous because he learned absolutely nothing when handed any kind of power. And it made no damn sense even without that context because that boy has only ever shown any interest in politics once ("King Tuck" when he ran for class president) and did so because he wanted to be heard. While his tech has been instrumental in helping Team Phantom, the show never validates it and ultimately him. He would never get past sidekick status in a way both Sam or Jazz did. he had no voice and by season three, not as much screentime. So he's mayor because... he demonstrated his tech skills which translated into leadership because he gave a few orders. Within two comic panels, the creator undoes all that and, well, I can't say "all is right in the world" since it doesn't do a thing for Tucker's arc, but it removed something so fundamentally cartoonish and out-of-nowhere that I'm not complaining in anyway, shape, or form. Mayor Tucker was stupid and the comic rightfully points it out as such.

The comic also contradicts Hartman's hypothetical proposal of where Vlad would have ended up in post-"PP" - that is a prisoner to aliens of which he'd eventually escape, go back to Earth, and I don't know, go even more mad with power? Like Mayor Tucker, the whole alien thing is just balls nuts because it brings in an element that was never presented, emphasized, or necessary for the show. It's about ghosts. It's only about ghosts. The original plan for Plasmius had him as a vampire, which is why he has a cliche Dracula look to himself, but they took it out for being "too occult." It would have also added nothing. This isn't a catch-all "Best Of" Spooky Monster Variety Hour show, it's just about ghosts. So thankfully, they just had him fly back where he found out he lost everything. No aliens needed.

[kiddokori]

but you're so right about everything with totk. you put it in words so well 😭 idk if you found memory 9, so i won't spoil anything, but it was SO GOOFY look up gmod smile after you watch it and explode instantly. loftwings would've made the game infinity better, like skeleehorses can go over gloom (such a silly name btw) and horses are always great, but there's nothing to ride in the sky??? missed oppurtunity imo. i basically play with no tech becuase i hate using it 😔 i have much to say on this game and sadly most of it around the plot isn't thatg nice

SKELEHORSES CAN GO OVER GLOOM??????

but no yeah i dont enjoy the tech lol. i think modern tech in fantasy is a slippery slope from “woah cool its so interesting how this fantastical society developed things we never couldve thought of” to “this isnt even fantasy its just sci-fi with medieval paint slapped over it” thats what botw vs. totk is to me. we went from giant magical mechs and tech that felt more like sentient creatures to a straight up four wheeler. also its just clunky. to me. vexes me.

i am playing it very slowly for several reasons so im not far im only two memories in (trying to do them in order) lol but im not impressed by the writing either again ive only beat the rito “dungeon” idk what to call it. it was fine. really felt like they just tried to replicate the divine beasts but it didnt work. the weird disembodied voice felt forced in totk its just this random exposition guy that felt like he was just there for the sake of mimicking the structure of the champions talking to you where in botw that makes sense because they’re important characters that you learn more about and play a role in the story and also they literally died and their souls were trapped in their beasts. and totk was like ah shit ah fuck we gotta have another disembodied voice throw this guy in there and have him lore drop on you. who is he. who cares.

and then the divine beasts were like interesting involved puzzles there was one i thiiiink the camel you literally had to turn entire parts of it to line up electrical signals to get places and unlock things it was a little frustrating but i had to think about it!! same with the elephant you had to control the entire mechanism to move things and you had to Think about it. the rito ship was just go find these things. ok the divine beasts were also that with the terminals but you had to work for it. totk really just went go walk around for awhile and find them. no real puzzle to it. there was a little bit with the doors/levers but it did not feel nearly as involved or thought through.

i will say i did like the boss fight the ice guy. cool guy. looked cool baller music neat new little thing you had to do to beat it i liked it. that was cool i will give them that they know how to get me pumped for a boss fight

ok but the cutscene with zelda near the beginning was goofy as hell. just straight up like woaaaahh she floated into the sky thats crazy!!! whaaat!!!!! felt extremely silly. i was sitting there like is this a gag is this supposed to be funny i cannot tell. very much threw me off. could not take seriously

also. fucking. got rid of her again. if they wanted to have the same success of botw maybe they should’ve gee idk changed the formula again and let zelda be with us. a two player zelda game would be so cool. even if it was still single player and we could just interact with her and have her with us im thinking kindof last of us/resident evil 4 style where she helps you do certain puzzles or helps you fight like other npcs. even if she just stayed at the base and helped purah with research and you could talk to her thatd be more interesting. GIVE HER TO ME!!

the intro really just felt like oh we have to get rid of zelda again because we need link to be alone so we can copy botw uhhhhh magic rock teleports her to the past yeah yeah that works. they decided they needed this to happen and then made a story to excuse those choices rather than actually construct something cohesive.

im not even halfway through the game so i dont wanna be tooo hard on it or form strong opinions but id rather be pleasantly surprised than disappointment after getting my hopes up. i havent been spoiled for anything but i have seen people complain in general so im kinda leaning towards disappointment lol. like its zelda im still having fun i just also am looking at it from a critcal point of view and i have plenty to say. i used this as an excuse to talk for a looong time anyways. im currently working on getting specific horse colors that i preplaned by looking at this horse chart to name after characters from a book i like ✌️ i didnt pay 70 dollars to not have any fun with this game so help me god i am going to enjoy Some of it

[reddiscourse]

I've never read an anti-transid argument that made genuine sense to me.

I'm pro-endo and all plurality too. How does someone being plural in a different way actually hurt anyone?

I guess I'm pro-be-your-ultimate-inner-self-even-if-its-cringe.

I don't want to be that guy but - we literally live on a floating rock when thinking about the vastness of the universe I don't me being trans-plural matters -

Good for you (for the pro-be-ur-ult-inner-self-even-if-cringe thing/g).

Yes, shit can hurt people, even if it isn't physical harm. Like for instance, having your disorder demedicalised (Autism, for instance, yes this is happening). Stigmatising ideas spreading faster through people faking disorders (this one applies to so many disorders, take it as a broad example). People who fetishise your nationality because they want to be cute (Take Japan for example). People who mimic your accent and the language of your ancestors because it's funny (Because having "yellow skin" and "slits for eyes" and "bucked teeth" aka "the regular Chinaman" is hilarious). People who think that it is OK to have a name of a culture that you are not apart of or involved in because they think that one to a few people speak for an entire race or culture (The entire discourse on this; of alters from Asian media who are not bodily Asian using their name from source or another name of that culture). Yes, that hurts people. Take a look through history and society before you waste your white-out on the textbook.

It isn't cringe, thank you. It's insulting. So what if we live on a floating rock? We LIVE on a floating rock. We are humans. News Flash! Humans have emotions. Humans have feelings. Animals have feelings. We have lives. We have goals and dreams and futures. We're human. Fine, downgrade everything to "existing on a floating rock in space"- that doesn't stop me from feeling hurt. From feeling insulted. Insecure. Ashamed. I don't give a shit what you identify as as long as it's an identity. There's a difference between identity and connection. Race is not an identity. I, as an Asian person, can never know what it's like to be Black. I, as a South-East Asian, can never know what it's like to be from the Middle East, or Central Asia. I, as an Asian person, can never know what it's like to be a White person. Why? Because I'm Asian. And I have emotions. And I have a history with people appropriating, making jokes at, and disrespecting me and my heritage. So my shittiest apologies for taking fucking offence, and for being hurt.

People who identify as TransAsian aren't actually, literally stabbing me. They aren't physically attacking and threatening me. But here's another news flash: people can feel fucking hurt when there is no physical damage. Someone ever yell at you for something you didn't do? Did someone ever betray you? Did someone ever make fun of you? That hurts you. They may not have pushed you or made any physical contact but it does hurt.

In the vastness of the universe, nothing fucking matters. You don't matter, I don't matter, climate change doesn't matter, nothing does. But you DO matter. I matter. Climate fucking change matters. We're human. You're human. You're alive. I'm alive. Have some fucking heart.

Apply that thinking to everything. Slavery? "Oh, we're on a rock in space, it doesn't matter how I treat you, even if it's inhuman, manipulative, abusive, selfish and fucked up." Women's rights? "We're on a rock in space, your emotions and thoughts don't matter. Your body and money does." China-Virus? "Oh, we're on a rock in space, it doesn't matter if I talk of a race of people like they are all the same. So what if people start murdering and beating up Asian people, blaming them for the virus? Not my fault. Nothing matters." Police brutality and BLM? "We're on a rock in space. Your life doesn't matter, nothing does. I will do what I fucking want."

"Actually" is where you fucked up. The fact that you made it stand out via italics doesn't help. Yes, it actually hurts people. "Actually being hurt" doesn't have to be a punch to the face or physical force and pain. Actually being hurt can mean name-calling. Actually being hurt can mean stereotypes. Actually being hurt can mean rumours. Actually being hurt can mean being betrayed. Actually being hurt can mean someone outing you. Actually being hurt can mean being persecuted to have your life taken away in a somehow legal way. Actually being hurt can mean fetishising. Actually being hurt can mean having your feelings taken as something less than a 10th of a nickel. Etc.

I know this isn't about trans-plurality like your ask states, but I'm taking a break from a majority of syscourse and system origins. I am not going to bring up trans-plural or state anything further on plurality for the time being. I know most of your ask was about plurality, so I'm sorry. This was extremely passive aggressive, or just plain aggressive. It was also very at you, anon. And my response wasn't even really connected to your ask, so the aggression was uncalled for. Just. Yk. People taking my the bullshit i've experienced and shoving them down the garbage disposal in a way of like "oh this? doesn't matter. the way that you're still thinking about this is sad and doesn't need looking into or talking about because it's not a valid experience because i can just easily identify as you and not have that experience" yk? Lol. But yes, things can actually hurt people, just FYI.

[peligrosapop]

i believe in God deeply yet whenever i see this freaks on ur page telling you to beleive in God i just think "do YOU!?" there is no way God wants people doing all of this in a random tumblr anon box right? hmmph....

Hi. Thanks for your message. I’m not surprised this happens because religious bigotry is just as idiotic and irrational as any other bigotry; it’s almost a psychotic to me, you hate people bc they don’t believe in your invisible person(s) in the sky? the invisible friend you ask for things? sounds like an mental illness. I went to a Christian church in December bc my sister asked me to and I couldn’t believe how people believe that BUT I respect that she does, she finds peace, she finds community there and she is not a bigot; not anti-gay or anything, mostly a feminist etc, same as some Muslim girls I’ve met here who are great fucking people but I also see how religion limits them at times, shames them, besides all the limits and shame we have to deal with a capitalist patriarchal society (which most religions thrive in). For me organize religion and even not organized, culty shit, is incompatible with my world view and politics, as an anarcho-feminist, as religions tend to have hierarchies and conservative views on body-autonomy and non-inclusive authoritarian “my way or be damned/die” tendencies.

Now, talking of god, I find living without the idea of god/gods and after life quiet freeing. I try to be nice, kind, think if others, try to be as unselfish as possible; want other to be as free or have as much as me, seek justice etc because I want to, because it’s the right thing to do, you see it when you do it, not because some book that is made to be divine told me or because I want to be in the “good place” or be born again as something better when I die. I know this is a one time thing and when it’s done, life will flash by, I’ll be grateful, hope the people I loved remember I loved them and then it’s done.Like sleeping but you never wake up. And knowing that to me is better than god but existencial dread is super real, happens to me, and I know having the idea of god(s) is better than thinking you are here on a floating rock in space in a very arbitrary way for a few years without any purposes. But you know what? We don’t need a purpose. The path, life, is the goal. Enjoy it. It also makes it easier to understand why every awful thing that happens, happens (it’s other people, not god lol)

I believe in life deeply, I grew up Christian (was a absolutely out of it by last year of HS) and the feeling that was put upon me to be god being with me I have found not in church but everywhere. When I feel water underneath by feet, seeing the sunset, listening to music in my living room, when someone I like gives me a hug, the euphoria of hundred of happy screams in a concert or a sports event, when I see a painting in person, when I read a postcard a friend has sent, making love, etc etc. I hope you find it too. Have a great day.Sorry for the long reply lol

[epickiya722]

REACTIONS TO EPISODE 9 - KATSUKI BAKUGO: RISING

As usual, just my reactions as I watch the episode. There's jokes, there's opinions, some "meta" (I'm the last blog to be considered analytical honestly), all that good stuff.

Now, knowing this is Bakugou episode, I do not care for any antis. I don't, I really don't.

LAST EPISODE'S REACTIONS

I'm already SCREAMING!!!

Aizawa thinking about his reasons to live and CUTTING OFF HIS LEG!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

THAT IS HORRIFIC!!! DAMN!!

"You really are the cool one, Eraser Head". Yes, but.... BECAUSE YOU SHOT HIM!! VILLAIN, YEAH, WHATEVER FINE!!!

IT'S THE SECOND TIME ERASER HEAD DID SOMETHING "COOL" BECAUSE OF YOU!!

AND THEN YOU TOUCHED HIS FACE AND DID THAT!! OMG!!

Those faces Shigaraki made though... nightmare fuel...

TODOROKI!!!! HI, ICYHOT!!

Daiki put his soul into voicing Deku for the "SENSEI" part. As usual, loving his work.

Also, Yuki, too, for Todoroki because I felt that urgency when he came up on the scene.

Oh, my other 1A kids!!!

"There is a massive villain heading north..." AAAAH CRAP!!

... someone should have snapped his neck. Seeing the hero students with devastating on their faces... BROKE ME. Especially, Sero. He's always smiling so when he's not I just... uuuuggghhh...

*Cuts to Tokoyam and a mummy-looking Hawks* Damn... 🥲

"... they didn't see us as a threat." Because they're stupid. I'm glad they're stupid though because you're alive.

I'm sorry, I just hate seeing the kids upset.

THEY TRIED EVERYTHING AND MAJESTIC DIED!!!

"In thay case, all hope is lost." See, right there, Mineta. You already underwater with the fandom. Not on thin ice. You are under the ice. Shush.

Honestly, this shot is hilarious. But I'm still mad at Dabi.

MIC, PLEASE PUNCH THAT PIECE OF CRAP AGAIN!! I WANT HIM QUIET!! (I'm so used to his glasses that this threw me off but...)

That was a mistake, I'll admit. X-LESS WAS DUMB AS HELL!! Why didn't he just carry Shigaraki out when Mic had Garaki?! That some dumb ass horror movie crap and I made a post about that!

What... the... hell... IS THAT?! *some funky looking Nomu*

OH CRAP, NATIVE!!! *cries in manga reader* Fun fact, KENN voices him!

"Shigaraki will crumble the society saturated with so-called heroes." FALSE! That's AFO's doing. Shigaraki is just a puppet like everyone else he uses, hate to say it.

He's so pretty when angry! 💚 Don't blame him though. Whoop his ass, Deku!!!

Shoto just randomly shooting ice in Endeavor's direction and Endeavors confused reaction. Why did that tickle me?

Whoa, damn, that was fast. Endeavor did that flash, quick FLAME ON!

OH MY GOSH HE IS PISSED!! Rock Lock is me. "Okay. Whoa, kid. Damn. You are angry."

"What day is it?" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I'm sorry, nah. I knew that was coming and honestly, I also didn't think they would add that in. That is funny as hell. "Has it been four months?" Yes, it has, my guy!

"His body is falling apart." Deku was also probably thinking "Good".

FLOAT!!! HE'S USING FLOAT!! FUCK YEAH, DEKU!!!

HE'S JUST SO PRETTY WHEN HIS QUIRK IS ALL ACTIVE AND GLOWING LIKE THAT!!!

Bakugo warning Midoriya about staying away from Shigaraki. OMG 😭 see, HE DOES CARE!

... every time I see Shigaraki's forehead it's like *SMACK* "FOREHEAD!!" I feel this way about a lot of characters... he does not have eyebrows.

I love how they show just air wisps and not close-ups because it reminds me of those cartoon fight clouds where all you see is shoes flying. So you know it's bad.

THAT FACE!! BAKUGOOOOOU! Before any ass thinks they're being funny, that is not an angry face. That's a face of worry.

I'm glad I know got an animated version of this panel.

Hearing Deku talk all calmly after just shouting in rage is whiplash. Daiki Yamashita, everyone!!

"What is wrong with your hair?" 🤣🤣🤣 My broccoli looks just like that when I don't pay attention.

Bakugo casually walking in the background while Uraraka yells at him. 🤣

How dare this episode make me cry and then laugh.

TSU IS FIGHTING HIM?! 🤣🤣🤣

... Gang Orca got his own line of water? Makes sense.

The Bakugo and All Might talk... okay I cried...

Okay, Deku smacking Shigaraki around reminds me of a rabbit playing with a yo-yo.

Bakugo telling them what's going on with Deku... Yes!!

Rock Lock saying "kids". That's the dad in him and I love him for it. I hope his wife and son are doing okay.

HE'S FLYING UP, IT'S HAPPENING!!!

AFO... Omg... why are you here? Why do you exist?!

WHO MADE THE DECISION TO PLAY BAKUGO'S MEMORIES LIKE SCENES ON A TV?! YES!!

AND NOBU!! THE VOICE ACTING!! JUST... 😭😭😭

IT HAPPENED!! KATSUKI BAKUGO: RISING!!!

I'm just realizing they didn't give us the title of the episode until that moment. 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

BONES YOU... OOOOOHH...

We're getting OFA NEXT EPISODE!!

[futureless]

i think too hard about too many things & i can’t help but wonder wtf is the point in all of this-

we are tiny organisms living on some random ass floating rock in the middle of a solar system that could potentially be 1/103742819181 billion other galaxies but we don’t even fucking know - why do we take this shit so seriously? we are literally nothing… we’re not shit

we work our asses off to barely get by, working 5/7 days at LEAST a week, only to retire at 65. like bro we can’t even fucking do shit hardly at 65 anymore?! like your whole life is gone and some people don’t even make it that far- like who made the rules? who the fuck did this

we can’t even do what we want, drugs are illegal & some random people telling lies in our “government” tell us what to do, take from us, like who the fuck said they’re the bosses? why should we do what they say? they bleed just like us, this is our earth too, they can’t just own us? like if i wanna go smoke crack behind a dumpster and frolic naked down the road then i fuckin can, i’m not hurting anybody! shit is fuckin stupid man

i just don’t see the point, you can’t even enjoy your own life! like people were made to laugh, play, be naked, drink wine, & live in the woods happily ever after- not this fuckin bullshit. love doesn’t exist anymore, nobody cares about each other, we can’t even get fucked up to escape this shit bc everything is “illegal”, everyone is depressed, the system doesn’t fuckin work!

fuck society dude- they can all suck my fuckin ass man

make it make sense 🦠

[ayellowcurtain]

Some more alpha!Sander and omega!Robbe for @lucidpantone

-

Sander decides to finally force himself to open his eyes. He could very well sleep more, but he’s making a grumpy decision not to. The bed is empty and it has been for a while. Robbe is too happy, living a dream life and Sander can’t allow himself to waste time oversleeping. Sander smiles thinking about a wild Robbe exploring nature like it’s something new as he turns to lie on his back and stretch his whole body. Fuck! Sander loves Robbe so much it’s overwhelmingly good sometimes. He never thought this feeling belonged to him. They finally had the time to get away from everyone, from every noise and hide, just the two of them. Sander tries to tame so much of him on his daily, socially acceptable life, and it’s stupid how he feels free here, in the wild, just with Robbe around. Sander knows him inside out, and when they’re in nature, most of the walls are down because there’s no sign, or smell, or memory of a broken society keeping him on a leash.

A small but noticeable enough rock crosses the open window and hits the sheet on his shin. He rolls his eyes, and sits up, pushing the sheets away from him so he can get up already.

“You really can’t live without me…” He thinks out loud, ripping his underwear from the bed to put it back on as he drags his feet across the tiny cabin they rented to go outside, finally meeting a sunny, happy, already sunburned Robbe.

“Hello, you! Good morning…” Robbe looks at the sky, the sun burning bright right at the top with no clouds to bother, “I think afternoon is more fitting.”

Sander nods his head, barely able to open his eyes still, walking down the few steps until his bare foot reaches the soft grass. It’s a burning hot day, but there’s a soft breeze that makes it bearable outside.

“Where were you?”

Robbe smells like fresh, cold water, and his heart is beating fast, all clues about his whereabouts. Sander woke up a few hours ago when Robbe left. He couldn’t smell him, or hear his heartbeat, or feel his emotions for a long time, making it hard to fall back asleep but he did eventually, when Robbe was calmer, and Sander could now picture him just floating in some calm river water.

“Went to take a cold shower in the waterfall. It was freezing cold! But it was nice once I got used to it.”

Sander snorts, feeling the shivers down his body just thinking about it. He would never go skinny dipping so early and to meet a freezing cold water, but this is one of a million good parts about having a forever, root deep connection to his Robbe. He doesn’t have to go skinny dipping in a waterfall, he doesn’t have to force himself to like it either. It’s more than enough for him that Robbe went by himself, and enjoyed as much as he wanted to. It’s hard to explain a feeling that’s so raw and deep inside of him. But somehow, he and Robbe are two different, independent people who are deeply dependent on each other, connected to the core of their beings, in constant need to be close, together to make everything better, more real and honest and light.

“Of course you went to an unknown waterfall in the early hours of the day, by yourself.” Sander holds both ends of the towel around Robbe’s neck, pulling him closer, happy to receive some of his freezing temperature for once. “Was it as good as people say it is?”

Robbe nods his head, wrapping his arms tightly around Sander’s waist, making him contract his whole body and shiver.

“Fuck me!” Sander curses under the quick breath he just missed, still unable to push Robbe away, even if he’s painfully cold.

“Any time.” Robbe whispers, kissing him.

“Liar.”

“Like you would like to change the dynamic here.”

“Like you would like to change the dynamic here.”

“Never.”

“Good.” Robbe laughs wholeheartedly, and Sander softly kisses his whole face, hugging him tight, fuck the cold. Robbe’s smile is, by far, the most beautiful, innocent, real smile to ever exist. Sander quietly draws the soft lines that frame his perfect smile. Sander will happily make him warmer any day.

“Did you have a good night of sleep?” Sander nods his head, burying his face against Robbe’s neck. He can’t remember the last time he had a bad night of sleep.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

Sander looks at Robbe, how he’s pressing his lips together, humming as he thinks and Sander kisses him softly again just because he can.

“You’ll cook breakfast for me?”

Sander rolls his eyes. He’s not the best cook, he’s a good enough cook, maybe. But he likes to spoil this small, lean, soft hearted, with an easy smile omega.

“Yes, Robin.”

Robbe decides for some pancakes with the weirdest toppings and some fresh fruits they can enjoy now that they’re out here, surrounded by nature, with countless fruit trees around to complete their breakfast. He made some coffee before leaving for his city-boy-in-the-wild early morning adventures - very strong and no sugar, just how Sander likes it but they can stay outside for another minute.

Robbe’s body is still adjusting his temperature from the ice cold swim he had, and Sander holds him tight in his arms, closing his eyes, thinking he could easily sleep another hour or two.

“When we get older, can we live somewhere like this?”

Sander opens his eyes after a minute of rest, blinking a few times to adjust to the bright day light again. He looks around, well aware of how far away the last gas station was before they got here. No internet, very little signal for phone calls…

“Would you like to live in the wild like this?” Sander asks. The freedom of being away from any other human is very much his type of place but he’s not sure about not being able to order food, about having to bike miles and miles to get to anything at a tiny convenience store, no smart tv with countless old movies for them to watch in HD…

“I think it would be nice.”

Sander tries to focus his thoughts only on the pros and not the cons. He thinks about not needing much clothes, thinks about a fresh Robbe coming to wake him up every morning with the tips of his hair still ice cold wet from his early morning river swims…He could easily, easily get used to those parts. And he thinks about not having to hold himself back, about being a full alpha whenever he can or feels like it, and he knows Robbe would be a lot more comfortable to be his softest omega too. Just the thought and the picture that instantly forms in his brain makes him shiver, and Robbe looks over his shoulder, probably meeting a dazed Sander trying to calm himself down.

“What?”

“What what?” Sander replies, kissing him teasingly, sneaking one hand up Robbe’s torso, reaching his neck, squeezing a little when he holds Robbe’s sharp jaw, deepening the kiss.

“You were thinking something…” Robbe whispers, out of breath when they stop kissing for a second, just brushing their lips together.

“Always.” Sander purrs, creating a line with the tip of his nose until he reaches Robbe’s ear, whispering, “Breakfast can wait. You’re going back to bed right now.”

Robbe doesn’t need to hear another word. It took him a second because he was still recovering from their breathtaking kiss but they’re back to reading each other and Robbe moves graciously on his tiptoes, circling around Sander, leaving him behind as Robbe dries his hair a little more with the towel, going back straight to the bedroom. Maybe Sander can live somewhere like this in the far, far future

[infitsovermisfits]

What Should Have Been - Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson - Fix-it Fic

WARNINGS: Fix it fic for season 4 because what the fuck was that, ends in Steddie (as it should), Max and Eddie are established friends, spoilers for episodes 1-4 of season 4, questioning of sexuality, mentions of knives, mentions of bullying and harassment, graphic descriptions of injuries, drinking, angst that gets resolved

INFO: what do you mean this isn't how season 4 was supposed to go? The duffer brothers are clearly wrong and I'm 100% right- they leaked the scripts and here I am, writing it out for u all?? (/j /sar) no but seriously I think there was a lot of wasted potential regarding certain character relationships that could have been fun so here. *cough cough if you also think max and eddie should have been best friends let me shamelessly plug my other fic *cough cough* My idea of a fix it fic :) enjoy!

7130 words

There were many colourful nicknames Eddie Munson's classmates had given him over the years. Some he wouldn't repeat; some that faded into oblivion; some he still heard every day. Eddie 'The Freak' stuck for the longest, and by his second time attempt at passing Senior year, he wore it more as a badge of pride. 

Eddie 'The Banished' was undoubtedly new. 

Since he was young, Eddie knew he was different to the other kids, and he never understood why. Maybe because of his interest in metal and rock music, long, long books about Middle Earth and a rampant obsession with a fantasy roleplaying game weren't seen as 'cool' to the other kids. Maybe because they grew out of playing in pretend worlds and wormed their way into the new, mature adult one faster than him, chasing after boyfriends and girlfriends and climbing the invisible rungs of a fabricated social ladder. Eddie was never interested in that. Never felt compelled to chase, or climb, or reach anything that hadn't already been obtained by someone more qualified. He didn't need to land on the moon or reinvent the wheel to have a good time on this planet.

As time passed, he got good at hiding from that side of the world- busying himself with a new campaign to torment his Hellfire club with, searching for the outcasts to invite them to join, or learning the riffs to a new Metallica or Black Sabbath song on the Warlock Wayne had bought him for his fifteenth when he got his first A in his English class. It was so easy to disappear, considering how society either looked down on him, or forgot about him altogether. 

Eddie was aware of the new names he was branded with: 'Satanist', 'Cult Leader', 'Murdurer'. He heard it from the townsfolk who passed the boathouse a few days ago when he had half a mind to hide out at Reefer Ricks. Frankly, he thought it was hilarious. He knew himself well enough to not make deals with people he didn't trust and that he certainly didn't steal black cats and sacrifice them to the Devil. He far preferred to pet them. And though he'd never admit it, the idea of death made him uneasy for many reasons, he'd never think to open up about.

Chrissy Cunningham was someone he watched from afar as she climbed the ladder of High School popularity, claiming her 'Queen of Hawkins High' crown the moment she started dating Jason 'The Asshole' Carver. She wouldn't remember him- the boy with the buzzcut playing a fair rendition of AC/DC's 'Back in Black' at a talent show? He didn't place at all and she placed second. He'd pass her in the halls amongst her cheer friends, muttering things about him he learned to block out.

So when he got a note in Algebra signed with her initials that she wanted to buy, he was confused. Seeing her in person at the small table was shocking too, though her... Kindness was something he wasn't expecting. Something he perhaps didn't deserve. And when she asked for something stronger, and he offered to take her up on that offer after the campaign finished, he should have realised something was up.

He could still see her horrifically bent body, her pure white eyes as she floated up to his ceiling, the blood that dripped from them and the vacant holes they left behind; still hear the crunches and snaps of her bones and neck breaking whenever he closed his eyes, or tried to sleep under the tarp in Reefer Ricks's boat. What the hell even happened that night?

Those images and the pain in his knee from when he'd fallen as he ran away reminded him this was real life. That did happen. He wasn't stuck in another horrific nightmare. He wasn't drugged- he was stone-cold fucking sober. Well, until he found a bottles of beer stashed away in the corner and began downing them in hopes he'd pass out and get a wink of sleep. 

Steve Harrington was the last person he expected to see, let alone jabbing him with an oar. 

The broken bottle at his neck was maybe a bit much for a first greeting but they'd found him. They could turn him in, he had to defend himself. Eventually, once the adrenaline rushing through him subsided he realised Henderson was there, urging him to calm down. It wasn't until he surveyed the group for any more threats did his eyes meet Max Mayfields and he relaxed, moving and sliding down the wall, away from the guy he'd threatened and shaking.

Of all the people he'd expect to protect him- though the list wasn't long- he didn't expect the former king of Hawkins, Steve 'The Hair' Harrington to be part of the mix. 

Max being there was shocking too.

This was the kid he had welcomed to the trailer park halfway through the summer with warm words and reassurances that although this wasn't a five-star hotel, she'd warm up to the trailer park eventually. The kid whose cassettes he'd fix if the tape wound too far and bond over their love for Kate Bush. The kid whose skateboard he fixed twice, would laugh at, then help up if she fell, and talk to on the late nights when neither could sleep and found themselves on the rusty swing set of the playground separating their homes. The kid who had just lost her brother in the mall fire, and quickly found him risen from the ashes in the form of Eddie Munson- never cruel to her, never yelling at her. Always gentle and understanding, and quick to distract her from the thoughts and regrets running rampant in her brain.

Though she was resentful of him at first, over the few months, she opened up to him- mostly because he wouldn't leave her alone.

Following Chrissy's death and his exile to Rick's boat house, he was filled with more surprise when the red-head decided to stay with him. Though he was twice her size, she'd asked for Harrington's baseball bat- "Y'know- the one with the nails!"- and patrolled the small room from window to window, holding it like a soldier at the foot of a palace,

"Hey, uh..." He was sitting inside the dingy little row boat, throwing a few pebbles he had gathered into an empty soup can to entertain himself. He was never good at sports of any kind so most of the pebbles ended up bouncing off the metal and clattering against the wood. He was, however, great at talking, "Why'd you ask to stay here, Red?" He asked, glancing at the rings on his fingers and twisting them once his hands were vacant, "You could have just left me the bat and-"

"Yeah, cause you know how to use it," She said, a sharp, sarcastic edge lacing her words together. He found a small smile creeping its way onto his lips, the first in what felt like days, and with a small shake of his head, he glanced back down, "Besides, you're a friend-"

"A friend?" It was hard not to conceal the surprise in his voice as she said it. Eddie rarely made any friends these days, and she had no reason not to believe he was behind Chrissy's murder. She even confessed at some point she was the last to see them together. His gaze fell back on her- she had left her post, moving over to the boat and using the bat as a cane to lean on, staring at him with those ice-cold, blue eyes,

"Well, yeah," She said, "You've... I never got to thank you for everything you've done for me," She said, moving into the boat opposite him and sitting down, pushing the rocks that ended up on the seat onto the floor of the boat, "You made me feel... Better when everything was shitty," She said with a small breathy laugh, glancing back at him, "So thanks, Eddie," She smiles, before hanging her head to collect the rest of the rocks. 

When had the last time someone outside of Hellfire said those words? They weren't sarcastic, or mocking... They were honest. He blinked slowly, stalling to let his confidence rebuild itself, before he cleared his throat,

"You've got nothing to thank me for, Red. Anyone would have done that," He's playing with his rings again, "I'm fairly sure Harrington would jump at the opportunity to help any day," The sting of bitterness in his tone was clear and he grimaced as he bounced his foot and stared at his leg moving. His eyes found the 'bat with the nails' resting against the side of the boat, questions like what the fuck Harrington needs a weapon like that for, "Is this even real?" He asks, amusement clear in his voice as he reaches a hand out to touch the handle. 

He never got to play stupid baseball with his old man- too busy drinking and stealing an idiot's car, attempting to sell it halfway across the state to care what his son was up to, or interested in. He recalled getting laughed at in Phys. Ed. for missing the ball every time they'd play, cowering slightly whenever it flew too close to his face, or one of the kids threw the bat too hard at him and it just slipped his fingers, or hit his arms or feet. He'd much rather run laps around the field until his legs gave out, his lungs became void of air and bile rose in his throat than attempt to play the damn game. Did you need to have good aim with rusty nails sticking out the ends of the bat? 

"What's Harrington need it for- Jesus Christ-!" He topples out of the boat at the sight of Max's ghostly face, eyes plain white and staring ahead, unmoving. He lands with a loud thud, and hears her gasp for air as he scrambles to get out of the tarp he's caught in, 

"Eddie- what the hell!?" He hears her yell, then her footsteps, as she jumps out of the boat and grabs the tarp off of him. It's yanked and scrambles backwards, staring in fear at her scrunched face, though her eyes back to normal and she's glaring at him, "Are you trying to give yourself away!?" She huffs in annoyance as he freezes, chest heaving as he stares confused. She grabs the bat again and begins to pace, looking out of the windows and leaving him to pant on the ground and collect himself, 

"What- Are you okay?" He asks as he stands shakily- his head's spinning. She quickly grabs him by his vest, pulling him down so his head isn't visible through the windows, 

"I am going to knock you on the head with this-" She gestures to the bat, "Keep your head down," She hisses, standing at the window near them and looking out of it cautiously. He nods slightly as she lets go of him, before collapsing on a box of something, cradling his throbbing head in his hands and gripping his hair, tugging on it, 

"Fucking-" He hisses to himself, looking back at her as she turns to glare at him again, "What the fuck happened to you?"  He demands in a hushed whisper, 

"What do you mean what happened to me?" She asks. He scoffs, glancing around the empty room, before turning his gaze back to her. She makes a confused gesture, "What?"

"Your eyes! They went all... Freaky and white like... Like Chrissy's before she-" He gestures roughly upwards to the ceiling with his hand and shakes his head, "Just- can you not freak me out like that? I'm already on the verge of a nervous fucking breakdown," He says shakily, not even trying to hide the immense amounts of fear circulating through his body as he clenches and unclenches his empty hands,

"Wh- what?" She asks, "I didn't... I..." She blinks rapidly, glancing back at the boat, 

"You didn't what, Red?" He asks, "I saw you. Did you have some... Some fucking seizure? Or what-"

"No!" She quickly says, though clenches her jaw and glances back at the boat, 

"Then what?" He demands, "What was that?" She doesn't meet his gaze, eyes darting around the empty room looking for the words,

"I don't... Know," She hisses, crouching down near him, "This... This has been happening since... Since Billy uh..." She gestures vaguely so she doesn't have to say he's dead. Eddie saw the papers and news reports, so he nods for her to go on, "I get these nightmares... The ones I'd tell you about," He remembers, "Sometimes... I just have them even when I'm awake," She admits, in such a quiet voice he can barely hear her. His gaze softens at the tear slipping down her cheek, "But you can't tell the others," She says quickly, reaching a hand to wipe the tear away, 

"Why not? Do they not know?" He asks, 

"No, and I'd prefer it stays that way," She says coldly, standing and moving to the other window, "Why'd you care anyway?" He should tell her. He should say it. In case she ends up like Chrissy or in case the police heard him screaming and are on their way to haul his ass to jail for the foreseeable future, 

"Maybe cause... I don't know- I care about you, Red?" He says, glancing over her face as she whips her head around to stare at him. Even though her eyes are that same cold blue, they've softened, "And... I don't want you to end up like Chrissy," He sighs, hanging his head.

Because if he could prevent Max's death, maybe it'd be enough to quell the guilt eating at him from the inside out.

Hearing Harrington's urgent yells for help startle him. They're followed by Henderson and Sinclair's cursing. They shut their respective car doors with such force the car shakes, and when he looks out of the window, making sure only his eyes are visible, Eddie sees Max is unresponsive. Harrington's hands are on her shoulders, shaking her with a similar urgency Eddie had when he attempted to unsuccessfully wake Chrissy from her trance only a few days ago.

Eddie had always thought he was selfish. Why should he care for anyone else when so few cared for him? He grew up learning quickly that isolation was good for him. And damn his large heart seeing the lost sheep, the misfits, the social outcasts and quickly deciding he would make their high school years a hell of a lot less stressful, taking them under his wing and being there for them.

So how could he just sit by and watch Max face the same fate as Chrissy?

The walkie-talkie crackled in the seat next to him, Robin's urgent callings for anyone filling the silent car. He picked it up, extending the wire and shakily uttering her surname. That was all she needed before she began to ramble about their venture to Pennhurst, Wheeler quickly taking over and yelling that music was the key. Eddie knew music. He knew Max's favourite song- he had been the one to show it to her after all. 

He didn't think. That always got him into more trouble than was worth, but now? In a life or death situation? He couldn't waste the moments banging on the windows of Harringtons' car to try to signal the group's attention. With the Kate Bush tape, walkman and headphones clutched firmly in his hands, he shoved the car door, leaving it open as he sprinted up the small hill and towards the panicked group in the middle of the Cemetary. He didn't even bother to check the street for oncoming cars, or the graveyard for any mourners.

In urgent moments like these, Eddie wished he hadn't skipped Phys. Ed. so much in his later high school years, opting to smoke or deal, hidden away somewhere outside. This year, he had only run from the cops or from the Jocks trying to attack him for making fun of them after another failure on the basketball court. He'd have to add running from his small-minded home town to save his sister to that list if he made it. Yelling to the group to signal their attention, he was met with their horrified and confused faces, Henderson screaming about him needing to get back in the car and hide.

Eddie fumbles with the items in his hands, breathing out desperately that 'music was the key' as he sets the headphones over Max's ears, though he recoils and drops the tape in the grass with a hardly audible thud at the sight of her pure white eyes. He stumbles away as Lucas grabs it, clicking it in place in the walkman, the faint drums of 'Running Up That Hill' being heard over their desperate yells and attempts to wake her.

And when she floats into the air, Eddie feels his chest constrict and he can't breathe, backing up in terror and stumbling over a grave, landing harshly in the dirt as the other boys yell for Max to wake up. This was it, he breathes, not loud enough for them to hear, but to himself. He was too late, he knew it. He could tell that she was gone just like-

Max drops from the sky suddenly, his heart going with her, burning away in his stomach. She falls into the group's arms, and he feels like throwing up as he hears her heavy breaths and sobs, and the worried voices of Dustin and Lucas asking if she's okay. He struggles to stand on weak legs, shaking as he approaches them and meets her tear-filled, thankful eyes. He can only nod at the weak 'thank you' she gives, before turning her head to rest against Lucas, searching for comfort. 

Eddie drops down into a crouch, hand touching Dustin's back and patting the terrified kid as he grips Max's arm, as if the kid's afraid she'll float away on them again,

"I didn't run away this time..." Eddie finally speaks breathlessly, to no one in particular. But for once, his brain is empty of everything and all he can think is that he saved her life. A slight smile ghosts his lips as he glances between Dustin and Steve,

"You didn't," Dustin tells him with a nod. For once in his life, he hadn't run from danger like a coward. Max wasn't dead, and pride and relief filled him as he collapsed to the grass next to the group. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, patting his jacket slightly. Glancing up, he found Steve watching him, brows knit together in worry, 

"We need to get you back in the car before someone sees you," He says firmly. His voice sounded far away even in their close proximity, "C'mon," Steve's reaching his hand out to him, and he accepts the help, feeling his body get pulled up to its feet. Steve's hand is warm, and doesn't feel any bigger than Eddie's, though it's softer. Much softer. And the touch, though firm, is the first thing that begins to calm Eddie's erratic heartbeat and makes him feel that much safer. The moment is quickly gone, and Eddie remembers he is a wanted man out in the open, "Lucas I'll carry her, we have to go-" Steve commands, as he picks Max up, walking quickly with the group back to the car.

Max's head lolls against Eddie's shoulder as she shuts her eyes tiredly. He can faintly hear the finishing drumbeats and the synths, along with the altered vocals of 'Running Up That Hill' through her headphones. Glancing to see Lucas already sleeping, his hands locked in a tight hold with hers, he reaches out to her walkman and rewinds her tape back to the beginning. He sets his hand back on his knee, tapping along to the rhythm of the song and glancing outside at the colourful sunset,

"Hey, uh, Munson?" Steve asks, voice soft and quiet so he doesn't wake the kids sleeping around them. It catches Eddie's attention, eyes focusing on the slithers of reflection in the overhead mirror, "I just wanted to say it was really good what you did," He says. Eddie's hand stills on his leg and he blinks slowly, "You saved her life risking yours, man. That's like..." He doesn't seem to have the words,

"Pretty metal, huh?" A proud smile spreads across Eddie's lips, 

"M- Yeah? That's-" He doesn't miss the confusion in Steve's voice, catching the way his forehead creases in confusion. Eddie chuckles slightly,

"It means good, yeah, Harrington," He says in amusement at his obliviousness, 

"Right," Steve nods. From the mirror, Eddie notices Steve's smiling and nodding his head, "You're a good guy, you know?" The reassurance causes Eddie to tilt his head like a dog, large brown eyes meeting Steve's soft ones for a moment in the mirror. Just a moment. That's enough to speed up Eddie's heartbeat so he can feel it against his chest,

 "No need to flirt with me, Harrington," He says with a hint of playfulness, surprised at where the confidence is coming from. Glancing from the window back to the overhead mirror, he smirks to himself as Steve gapes, blinking, unable to respond. The tips of his ears are red and Eddie laughs, "Damn Steve, are you really that easy to make speechless?" He teases. He could really use a cigarette about now, 

"N- don't..." He begins to say, though stops himself, "I just- I was being nice," He says, and Eddie hums,

"Nice," He echoes, 

"Yeah- friendly you know? I wasn't flirting," He begins speaking quickly; in contrast, Eddie nods slowly, 

"Damn..." He sighs, "That's a shame, big boy," Eddie smirks to himself, "Cause I was," He pats the back of Steve's seat, turning his head to glance out of the window and sliding further down in the car so no one can see him. He doesn't recognise this part of town- the houses are large and nice, "Where-"

"My house!" Steve says too loud, causing everyone in the car to jolt awake. Eddie hisses as Max's hand flies to grab his, nails digging into the side of his wrist, 

"Dude- what the hell?" Dustin grumbles, glaring at Steve as he pulls up in front of a two-story house with an outdoor, inground pool. There are no other cars but Steve's, 

"Get out- we're here," He announces to them all, getting out first and turning up at Eddie's door. They lock eyes again, Eddie sending him a wink before Steve opens the door with a glance around for anyone who could possibly see the criminal. The others get out with their own grumbles and annoyances of being startled awake, and once they're all inside, they fall quiet again, "My parents aren't home- they're out in Oregon for my cousin's Wedding," Steve's rambling as he removes his muddy shoes and walks into the landing of the spacious home. Glancing over his shoulder, he surveys the stunned expressions, "What?" Eddie's the first to look at him, 

"You could have told us you live in a mansion, Harrington," He says in awe, 

"It's not a mansion-" He quickly tries to say, 

"No, Eddie's right, this is basically like, a castle, Steve," Dustin says, "You could have at least told me you're a millionare-" he rants, 

"I'm not a-" Steve can barely get a word in as Henderson keeps ranting,

"I can't believe you only invite me to your house when we're in danger," He says with friendly annoyance as Steve rolls his eyes, 

"Max, are you h-"

"I just want to go to sleep," She mutters under her breath. Her gaze is downcast, and she refuses to let go of her hold on Lucas' arm, 

"Okay- up- here let me show you," Steve takes two steps at a time as he walks up the stairs. Max and Lucas are slower when they follow him- she's clearly exhausted. Before she gets too far, Eddie feels compelled to speak, 

"Red," He says, head reaching the step she's just got on to. He reaches a hand to touch the stair, rings clicking against the hardwood, "You're safe here," He assures her, offering a smile. She gives him a brief one, nodding as Lucas continues helping her up. Eddie nods to himself, letting them continue up as he leans against the wall,

"Okay, Eddie," Dustin's voice comes from next to him. Its suddenness startles the metalhead,

"Jesus, man, could you not!?" He hisses at Dustin, moving a hand to rub his forehead, messing up his bangs, 

"Sorry, sorry," Dustin quickly says, lifting his hands up in self-defence, "But when were you going to tell me you knew Max?" He demands in a similar hushed tone,

"She's my neighbour," He frowns, shrugging, "I guess I saw her a few times and said a few things here and there? I don't know- it never came up," He huffs,

"What do you mean it never came up?" Henderson frowns back, 

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to just randomly bring up that I know Mayfield, we're best buddies now that she's moved into Forest Hills?" Eddie says sarcastically, 

"Just..." Dustin sighs, "We're really lucky you were there with us," His tone is soft now, and he reaches out to pat Eddie's arm in a strangely... Comforting way, "Without you she'd-"

"Yeah," Eddie cuts him off quickly, not wanting to think about that too much, "No use dwelling on the past, right?" He tells the younger boy, reaching out to ruffle the top of his head. He smiles slightly when Dustin grins, fixing his messed up 'Thinking Cap'. Eddie was always fond of the Henderson kid, far more than Wheeler. He could really see his passion during campaigns, something that reminded him of himself. And Eddie wasn't one to dull a flickering candle in a stifling wet cave. No, he was the one with the canister of gasoline and sticks of dynamite, ready to start a fire or blow something up. And though he hated picking favourites amongst his lost sheep, Dustin would always have a place up there,

"Dustin?" Steve calls from the stairs, "You good to take the couch?" He asks walking down the stairs and meeting the two boys still there, "We're working out shifts for rewinding Max's tape and checking in on her. Lucas said he'd be fine doing it all night by himself, but you know. Can't be too sure," He tells him, 

"Sure- I can take the couch," And Steve nods, before glancing at Eddie, 

"And uh-"

"I can sleep on the floor," Eddie quickly says, causing Steve to gape at him in confusion, "Yeah just like... Get me a blanket and a pillow or something and I'll be a-okay," He shrugs nonchalantly, smiling at Steve, who for some reason, finds the skin of his cheeks and chest growing warmer, 

"I- uh, no, you won't need to, Eddie," He says, blinking fast as he realises he's not making sense, "I mean the... The living room windows! Anyone could see you from them and you're-" Steve gestures towards Eddie,  "-You are still a wanted man," He says, raising his brows. As if Eddie could forget. He was half expecting a parade of pitchforks and fire as soon as he left the safety of the car in the graveyard, "You uh... I have beer in the fridge," Steve tells him, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek at the way Eddie's face lights up, 

"Now you really know the way into a man's heart, Harrington," Eddie grins, patting his shoulder as he eagerly turns and pushes open the door. Steve watches as he bounds to the fridge, gasping as he opens it and looking up and down at the plates of leftovers, vegetables and a full, unopened pack of beer inside. He bites the inside of his cheek again to stop smiling at his child-like reaction, then turns to Dustin. He's staring at him with a confused look, 

"Should he be drinking right now?" He says as Steve walks and opens the bedroom door, turning the light on for him and shutting the curtains, 

"If..." Steve shrugs, "If he wants to drink right now then who are we to stop him?" He says, before moving to get a blanket and a pillow for the kid. For some reason, his mind fixates on those words. 'You know the way into a mans heart'. It was meant as a playful comment, but that smirk... And Steve's own heart racing and warm smile threatening to appear on his lips all because of Eddie it... Was so confusing, "Hey- Dustin," Steve hisses, 

"There's no one else in the room, Steve," The younger kid reminds him, raising his brows as Steve returns to him and hands over the pillow,

"Right uh... So... Eddie," Steve doesn't know how he should ask this. Robin told him a half truth, then the real truth; both times had been unprovoked. She had told him she was queer on her own accord, giving him a reason for her disinterest in him. And he accepted her and loved her like a best friend ever since. He didn't know Eddie enough to declare him a 'best friend'.

He had heard of Eddie the Freak. Eddie the Metalhead. Eddie the 'I play DnD with him because you won't'. Eddie the 'I heard he sells drugs for a good price- better than Rick'. Eddie the 'guy who flunked his Senior year twice'. Trailer trash, weirdo, creep... 

Steve didn't think those applied to him anymore. Weirdo, maybe, yeah. Sure he talked a lot- back in the car on the way to the cemetery, he and Dustin tried to explain Lord of the Rings to him when he made a joke about Eddie having a lot of rings. He didn't miss the sigh of disappointment from Dustin or the bark of startling laughter when he confessed he thought the books was called 'Lots of Rings' at first. But there was something endearing about him. The way his face lit up when he got excited; the more animated he got as he explained what Hobbits and a Middle Earth were. There was something about him that had Steve speechless and captivated,

"What about him?" Dustin asks, "Oh my god- please don't start battling for my affection like divorced parents-" He shuts his eyes and heaves a sigh, "-Any other day, I'd be flattered, but right now, I-"

"No, no," Steve says quickly, "No, it's... Do you know if he's...?" Steve shakes his head, spreading his arms. He doesn't know how to say it. Maybe he doesn't want to say it. Ask it, "He's very-" He can't say the words. Flirty, open. Does that mean-

"Yeah, he's like that with everyone," Dustin rolls his eyes, "It's pretty funny- he does it because he 'likes watching people squirm'," He quotes, before snatching the blanket from Steve's hands and draping it over his shoulders, "He just wants a reaction out of you. Don't be too worried about it- unless..." Dustin narrows his eyes, "Oh my god, you do feel threatened by him?" Dustin looks amused, 

"Wh- No, I don't!" Steve tries to defend quickly, 

"But you are, Steve! Oh, this is great," At least Henderson thinks this is funny, 

"It's not- go to sleep, you little shit, and get as much as you can. Lucas is gonna wake you up when he gets too tired to stay up," He's back to ordering his children around, hands moving to his hips considering they're empty now, "Goodnight," He says, a firmness to his voice as he turns the light in the room off so he can't see Dustin smirking to himself as he removes his hat and sets it down on the coffee table,

"Yeah, love you too, Mom!" Dustin calls after him, causing Steve to roll his eyes and bite his tongue as he closes the living room door. He lets out a sigh, eyes darting over his hand still lingering on the door handle,

"Mom?" The amused voice asked from seemingly nowhere, sending an already stressed Steve into overdrive, 

"Jesus fucking..." He manages through heavy breaths, setting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart at the sight of Eddie in his kitchen. At his reaction, Eddie laughs loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth to not wake anyone already sleeping as he smirks, 

"I didn't know you scared so easily too, Harrington!" He removes his hand so Steve can see him smiling as he brings the beer can up to his lips and takes a long sip, "Here," He gestures with it towards Steve as he enters the kitchen, "Oh I also found your Cheez-Itz..." Eddie shakes the red box. Steve had bought those a few days ago because Robin liked them, even though he himself didn't. He kept it around in case she wanted to come over after work. The box sounded almost empty by now, "Is that okay?" He sounds genuinely worried, casting Steve a sceptical glance,

Once again, Steve finds himself short for words. For former 'King of Hawkins High', speaking wasn't an issue. He could speak about anything, with anyone, for as long as he needed. So why was he getting so tongue-tied around Munson? 

"It's fine... Yeah," He carefully took the can from him, nodding as Eddie smiled again, digging a hand into the box and attempting to fish out the crumbs. Steve noticed how if he focused on something, Eddie would stick his tongue out to the side. For some reason, his heart raced a little faster at the sight, and he had to grip the cool beer can a little tighter so his hands wouldn't shake. Before he could think too hard, he lifted the can to his lips and took a sip. Eddie hadn't bothered to get him a new one- usually, he wouldn't care or notice... So why did he care so much now? Their lips had touched indirectly,

"Cool," Eddie mumbles over a mouthful. He shook the box again, frowning as he tilted it to look inside, "Cause it's empty now," He tells Steve, setting the box on the counter and wincing slightly as it falls over, 

"Yeah, I can see," Steve says, glancing at the beer can and shaking it a little. There was still a fair amount of liquid left, but Eddie made no move to take it back. With a slight frown, Steve glanced back at him, "Hey, when was the last time you ate anything that wasn't... Snacks?" He asks. Eddie blinks at him, taken aback by the question. Was Steve Harrington- the guy he'd, upon first meeting, shoved against a wall and pressed a broken beer bottle to his neck- seriously worried about him? To mask his running thoughts, he simply snorted, 

"I get why Henderson calls you mom now," He says with a smile, 

"Oh my god," Steve hisses, setting the unfinished can on the kitchen island and turning around, grabbing a cutting board and a freshly opened loaf of bread, 

"Y'Gonna make me a PB and J with the crusts cut off too, Stevie?" Eddie has the discarded can in his hands and he's casually sipping on it, walking over to lean against Steve's fridge and watch as he makes a sandwich, focusing on his hands and his long slender fingers as he grabs the loaf of bread and cuts two slices. His gaze travels upwards, to the grey jacket Steve still hasn't taken off, to the freckles dotting his cheeks. His lips, his hair. He was close now and he could smell it. That alone made him smile and feel so much safer than he had been in the week he was formally exiled from society,

"Here," Steve says, with a similar affliction to an annoyed mother putting up with a rambunctious child. There's a plate that's slid over to Eddie, making him set the almost finished beer can down,

"Holy shit, I was kidding!" Though he's smiling wide again and grabbing the crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich, eagerly taking a bite and smearing the grape preserves over his cheeks. Steve's instincts tell him to look away or get him something to clean his face with, but he hasn't seen Eddie smile like this and a part of him wants to take it in, 

"It's what I had on hand, nothing... Fancy," Steve shrugs, "You want another?"

"Please," Eddie pleads, muffled by the mouthful of bread and peanut butter even though he hasn't even started on the second slice. He doesn't miss the twinkle in his eye, or the way Steve's gaze lingers on him as he licks any stickiness from his fingers, smirking in a sly way, "You always stare at your house guests this much Harrington?"

"No," He says it too quickly. Jesus Christ, Steve had made so many girls nervous in his life he thought he knew what that was like. Now the shoe was truly on the other foot, he had no clue what to do with himself, "No..." He said slower now, spreading the peanut butter on the bread a little slower, more aware of what he was doing,

"Damn," Eddie hisses beside him, "Guess I'm special," Steve laughs a little at that, shaking his head as he grabs the other knife and spread the jelly on the bread, "What? I must have charmed you somehow, considering you and your hair haven't run to the police to report me," Eddie says. He's shifted now- Steve can see him in his peripheral vision when he straightens, back pressed against the refrigerator and focused on the stationary ceiling fan, head tilted upwards at a slight angle as he chews thoughtfully, "Why haven't you?" Eddie's large brown eyes meet Steve's with a curious look, a frown set on his lips. There's still a smear of preserves on his cheek, "I mean, what's in this for you?" He shrugs, "For all you know, 'King Steve', I'm a wanted man," He says with bitterness in his tone, 

"But you aren't a murderer," Steve says, pressing the two slices together and grabbing the larger knife, focusing on his hands and cutting the sandwich's crust, "Besides," He sighs. He drops his voice, just in case Henderson's listening in from the living room, "You're Dustin's friend- he doesn't just make friends with assholes," He says,  

"Way to boost your own ego, Harrington," There's the amusement back in his voice, "So this is all for Dustin, huh?" He asks. When Steve looks at him, he raises his brows, "After this... Miraculously blows over, we go back to hating each other?" It feels like an ice spike suddenly drives through Steve's heart, and it's so sudden and confusing, that he feels like he might die,

"What?" He can't help but choke out, deeply concerned. Was this... Was he being led on? Messed with on purpose? When he glances up at Eddie's face, he can see the slight fear and hurt on his face, even though he rolls his eyes and sets the empty plate down,

"Fighting for the kid's undying affection and all that," Eddie shrugs, "Aren't we competition?" He doesn't sound very sure of those words, and Steve also picks up that he's not looking at his eyes anymore. In fact, he's looking down to avoid all eye contact altogether,

"Well I don't think of it like that at all," Steve admits, cutting the final crust from the sandwich and slicing it into two triangles. Eddie is quiet, though he lifts his head again. Steve turns to him with the sandwich on the same plate, pressing it into his hands. Eddie takes it but makes no moves to eat, "C'mon, you're hungry," Steve taps the plate with his finger, before glancing at the eight crust pieces left behind on the cutting board and taking a bite of one, 

"If we're not competition..." Eddie says after a few moments of silence, gaining Steve's attention again, "Then... What are we?"

In that moment, Steve recalls all the conversations he's had with all the people he's dated in High school. The dreaded 'lets make it official', 'are we just dating, hanging out, or are we boyfriend and girlfriend?' and... 'I love you'.

The more time he spent alone, the idea that maybe he was one of those people who was never supposed to experience love began to settle in his heart. Perhaps he was never destined to hear those words said in pure honesty and with the utmost affection a human being is capable of. 

But when he looked at Eddie now, watching him expectantly with those round and innocent brown doe eyes, frowning so gently, he felt that familiar swell of adoration blossom in his heart. Even when his eyes flicked over the smear of grape jelly on his cheek, He realised if he was going to love anyone; if there was anyone he wanted to tell 'I love you' and be told 'I love you too', it'd be Eddie. And though the thought terrified him, it filled him with an excitement for what could be,

"Co-parents?" Perhaps it was too forward. He only said it because of the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body at the sudden realisation of the depth of his feelings. He never expected it'd make Eddie snort and laugh loudly, a beautiful sound that caused Steve to let out the smallest chuckle, barely a breath escaping his slightly parted lips, 

"Co-parents," Eddie repeated with a grin, thankfully, "Cool- I'll take that over suspect number one any day," he tells him with a pleasant smile. Eddie quickly realises said smile is beginning to hurt his cheeks, though he oddly doesn't want the pain to go. He doesn't remember being happy like this before and he wants it to last. He finally takes a bite of the second sandwich while Steve eats the discarded crust in peaceful silence. He'd call it a ceasefire though there was no war between them to begin with, apparently. Maybe he judged Steve wrong- did the exact thing everyone's been doing to him all his life. Staring at his perfect hair and expensive clothes and thinking he'd want nothing to do with a rat freak like Munson. Yet here he was, eating the unwanted crusts of his PB and J. Steve could see Eddie was terrified back in that boathouse- he wouldn't hold a grudge against a man fearing for his life, "So because you're the mom, am I the dad?" Eddie asks with a smile once he swallows another bite. Steve laughs lightly, though the tips of his ears burn pink. 

There were many things Eddie Munson had been called over the years. There were many things he expected Steve Harrington to call him. 'Co-parent' was nowhere on that list, but he'd take it over 'murderer' any day.

[sincerestarlight]

The Introverts Guide to The Meaning of Life.

Yeah the title is a bit grandiose but I like it.

This is coming from a place where I wanted to be able to help people. I don’t always know the best words to express what I think when I speak but lately I’ve wanted to work in a space where I could just speak at length about what I feel I’ve learned in my life. About how I think and relate to people and the world at large. And I wanted to do so in a space I felt would maybe be seen and help a person or two.

Hence I made the decision to come to Tumblr.

Call it Madness or Wisdom, you’re still probably right.

So this is going to be my partial diary, partial wisdom blog, partial hard record for whatever therapist wants to look at me down the road. Hopefully they appreciate the documentation.

So I guess the first thing I want to kinda dwell on is, as the caterpillar asks…

Who are you?

TBH I think about this question a lot. Sure I can answer with my name, and that’s indeed who I am in society, but where I begin questioning is who I am to myself.

To anyone who is reading this, Lils is fine.

One of the things I’ve always had a problem with is trying to describe myself. The concept of ice breaking activities fills me with dread, or more commonly these days it’s the ominous “tell me some of your strengths and weaknesses”.

Whoever came up with that question needs to be sentenced to having to use the bathroom on stage in front of an audience.

Seriously there are no good answers to that question! If you say to many good things, or those good things in the wrong way, you’re perceived as arrogant. If you say to many negative things, you lack confidence, or worse they lowball you in pay cause they think you won’t fight back.

And the thing is that you should have confidence in yourself! We are in a big old universe that, as far as we know, stretches on for immeasurable lengths, distances where you can only measure in how many years it would take light to reach it *and it can still be millions of years*

On top of that matter that had at one point just been floating in the void floated into each other *so hard* that it became a giant floating rock. Then this rock managed, through scientific fuckery, make water! An atmosphere! *Fucking Life*. And whatever you think about *what* made life, the fact is that from there, millions of years passed, dinosaurs happened, then they stopped, then humans. Greece, Rome, Wars, and all that time has led to you.

You.

And then fuckin life happens.

Oh yeah, it’s a miracle but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck a whole bunch of nards. Christ almighty, it’s a miracle when a kid makes it out of high school without some form of lasting trauma. And then we mold ourselves around that trauma, in the worst case passing those issues onto the next generation.

Why bring up trauma? Well I think that’s why I have a problem with the initial question of who I am.

I used to really like ice breaking activities when I was younger. I always saw them as an opportunity to make friends, maybe if we have similar likes or interests, one of the peeps in my new class will like it too, and we can bond over it and then boom, friend made. So a lot of times, I would talk about what I liked, or things I learned from properties that I liked. It seldom worked the way I expected, but again, stories for another time.

That was my safe spot you know? The things that I liked. I knew those. Give me two options and I can tell you what one I prefer. Tv shows? No problem. Video games? Piece of cake. Sportsball games? I might not be super into them but I can tell you what team I prefer over a different one, even if it’s just based on their uniforms or mascot game.

But then everything changed when the question did.

See, you *have* to go to school. You *have* to do your homework. For stricter upbringings like mine you *have* to get good grades. Living within those confines is it’s own form of comfort. You know what you’re going to do, the question was doing it in a fashion that you like. And after many years of picking between Pokémon starters, that was an easy task. But then one day, maybe later than other people, I wasn’t asked “what do you like”

I was asked “what do you want to do.”

For some people, that question is easy. They know what they want to do. Doctors, artists, scientists, parents, people know what they want to do and the most tenacious of us make it with jobs in their chosen field and I am genuinely thrilled for people who follow their passion. But when I was addressed with that question, I froze. Want was never included in my world up to that point. There were things that sure, if I had complete freedom and unlimited money I’d like to do, but being invested in anything like that was merely fantasy. Sure, being able to lie on the beach in a nice chair with a book in hand sounds like paradise but it’s not really a realistic goal. Same with world domination.

After that I struggled…a lot. I started learning about the things that I like, maybe I could refine down what it was that I liked about them and magically, like an epiphany, I would see the thing that would make me happy, the passion and determination that others had when it came to their craft. But nothing came. I got a retail job after that and spent a good long time basically chasing that next bit of Serotonin. Nothing dangerous but definitely not good for my mental health. If passion wasn’t in my future the least I could hope for would be comfort.

Then I moved into my own place. I had a job that could (barely) afford, and then I looked around and said “well. Now what?”

That was the goal. Self sustainability. And I don’t mean to sound dour about the whole thing, it’s an accomplishment that I am proud of, but a ghost loomed over my head. The concept that now that I am self sustainable, what did I want to do? Obviously there are limits, but now I could exist beholden to no one but myself and…I didn’t know what to do with it. I still don’t. and it’s felt very lonely. Lonely because I feel this bright passion inside of me and I have no way to share it. No way for it to exist in this world.

I don’t know what I want to do but I want to do something.

I want to live my life in joy

I want to love whomever I want at my own pace

I want to be passionate and excited and run into the future with the confidence of the ball of conscious stardust that I am.

And even if no one reads this, writing it down helped a lot. The fact that the very thought exists somewhere helps.

[bee-ina-boat]

gender isnt real sexuality isnt real math isnt real language isnt real money isnt real society isnt real nothing matters you are a weird shaped blob on a fucked up rock floating in space with other weird blobs and there is no meaning to life

we need to come together to agree that love and kindness is the only thing that matters and throw all of the awful blobs that are killing us and our little rock off into the void so we can all be happy and silly

we should all just stop being mean to eachother about our interests and identities and brains and instead hug and kiss maybe

[toshootforthestars]

Here’s that viral video of a U.S. House Representative from Tennessee that may or may not be truncated, and may or may not be missing context.

1.  “...and we’re not gonna fix it. Criminals are going to be criminals.” Fuck you.

2.  So many people are guided by such quaint, folksy “wisdom” that this guy espouses.  This isn’t reasoned, critical thinking.  It never will be.

3.  “Buddy... if someone wants to take you out and doesn’t mind losing their life, there isn’t a whole heck of a lot you can do about it.” 

As I’ve heard endlessly from the social conservatives and moderates today and yesterday, this man speaks the TRUTH. There ISN’T a goddamn thing you can do about it... other than KILL. Get your weapon of choice, quickly gain tactical advantage, and kill the fucker before they kill you. Great! I genuinely hate that this is the best and only option. This fucked-up dumpster fire oligarchic country provides little for the individual anymore, and so many elected leaders shrug their shoulders and decide “Fuck it, you’re on your own” as if their only job is to compliantly do the bidding of their financial backers. Mass shootings?  Just buy a gun and be careful.  If you get shot up, that’s on you.  OK.

So *supposedly* we can’t end mass murder because this is a violent world and for I to think otherwise and act otherwise is an invitation for death. Every moment of every day I have to stand my ground and prove my worth and watch my back. Slip up and fuck around, and I’ll find out a hard lesson fast.  And until society gets tough with all the weirdos and mentally ill and criminals and whatnot, we all can't have any safe space.  Not for us nor our kids. 

And I don't kid myself, this is a dangerous world full of dangerous people. In many places I have to watch my back.  The past few generations of leadership in this country is complicit in this. 

I want to imagine a better world and strive to make that happen... and I'm very well aware that many people in this country are not on the same page with me, as they don't have the imagination nor inclination to envision a better world, and also perhaps have an active stake in keeping things the bloody way they are.

This proxy war against the enemies of political and social conservatives and moderates is the choice the leadership in this country chooses to make, instead of doing anything else. They make these choices out of ignorance and spite, and my friends and I can’t help but be afraid now to be who we want to be and live the quiet lives we want to live, because a sick cadre of reckless individuals ordains upon themselves control over this country. The fraction of us that want peace and understanding are being forcibly shut out from the lives we want and deserve on this floating space rock...

...

[lordoftablecloths]

Yep it's just the age old story of the tortured creative and the society that want to mold them into something they're not

Yep woohoo yippee nothing special at all just me and my pathetic ramblings and inability to come to terms that the society I want to live in will never be created in my lifetime yay wahoo

I want to say some dumb shit like "I'm not meant for this world" which is so overused and dumb but I stare at those words and I realize what people around me expect from me and then the tears start forming in my eyes again and oh fuck I'm typing so fast stop it stop it stop crying shut up why can't you just be normal please please just be normal please I just want to be happy please someone tell me I'm doing alright please I can't take it anymore let me die or give me a real reason to live I don't want to live in a world that rejects me stop it stop it it's hurting me please It hurts so much

I just want to be a good boy I just want to be a good boy I just want to be a good boy I just want to be a good boy and I'm trying so hard please why doesn't anyone notice please it hurts I feel like I'm choking I can barely breathe with this lump in my throat it hurts

The fan blade wouldn't be able to handle my bodyweight, I don't know how I'd even get to the roof of a building tall enough, we don't own any guns, and knives hurt too much I just want it gone please

I am in Hell, I am in Purgatory, I am in a place where I am trapped and I have lost all reason to continue my hourn here

There's only one thing holding me back, really. It's stupid, it's so fucking stupid it's cliche it's cringe I don't care it's stupid

I need to write this book. I need to. I need to show people I'm worth knowing im not just a faceless nobody that mumbles and stutters over their words and is easily overwhelmed and doesn't know how to talk properly and too awkward and nervous to make any friends and both desperate for attention and terrified of having to interact with someone

I'm so stupid I'm so pathetic my head hurts my hands are shaking please just let this end already I just want to be a good boy PLEASE I FUCKING BEGGING YOU SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE I FEEL LIKE I'M SHOUTING AT A VOID NO ONE CARES IT'S SO EMPTY AND COLD AND I'M JUST A LONELY LITTLE DRIED OUT HUSK OF A ROCK FLOATING THROUGH SPACE WITH NO ONE TO NOTICE I'M THERE AND NO ONE TO NOTICE WHEN I'M GONE

My head hurts so much I hate allergies