#interstate fair

[worshipthedoll]

[thecelestial-art]

Adulthood is so crazy like I pay my own rent and live in a completely different state and I’m still like “my parents said I can’t drive on the interstate :( I cut my hair how am I going to explain this when I see them in three months :(((“

[iamjosiahmovie]

Advertising & Sponsorship Packages are available, but time is running out.

August 2nd and 3rd

Contact: Pro Rodeo Spartanburg Committee

Eugene Fowler, Chairman: 864.415.9281

Crystal Barnett, Marketing/ Graphic Design: 864.982.9127

Email: spartanburgrodeo@gmail.com

[seapeppers]

hashtag america

[seat-safety-switch]

So I ask you, fair voter. Call your two-dollar whore of a congressman and tell them to meet me at Al's Car Hut for a fight for the soul of the greater New England area. This ends tonight.

When you decided that I should be the warlord of this area, I knew that I would have to tangle with the established political order. They weren't getting it done for you. That's why you trusted me with your support, in the form of muscle cars, arm-mount crossbows and an unbeatable army of fiercely loyal soldiers. I got you clean water. I figured out how to hook up a bunch of old Priuses to solar panels so that you could heat your homes. And now, I'm going to keep you safe from Uncle Sam.

Why does the federal government persist in trying to stick their noses into our perfect worker's utopia? Sure, there are flaws. I'll be the first to admit that I haven't been a perfect leader. I've been hoarding most of the gasoline, and keeping all the breakfast cereal that falls out of the trucks we ram-raid on the interstate. Those shouldn't disqualify us from receiving aid, just because the neighbouring states haven't had the common sense to surrender to us yet and are busy enjoying their false pleasures of running water, ample electricity, and same-day pizza delivery.

When Congressman Phelps finally deigns to visit his constituents, believe you me that we will discuss the finer points of his position on this whole thing. In Al's Car Hut's parking lot, the debate will be short and brutal. He likes to frame it as a "rebellion," as if we were rebelling against anything other than having to go to our shitty jobs every single day. He thinks you've been brainwashed by a highly charismatic nutjob. He didn't even mention how nice my hair is looking, now that we stole all the pomade from that ship out in the harbour.

I think he's just jealous of all the factories my government – our government – has captured and converted into producing continuation examples of the 1978 Plymouth Volare, the only car that anyone could ever have wanted.

[hardly-an-escape]

For your road trip prompt ask: Dreamling going to a fair☺️ Have a safe trip!

oooh I so want to write what’s in a name? Dream & Hob stopping at a state or county fair somewhere on their weird ass sex romp-slash-road trip, but that fic is set in winter and I just don’t think it’s plausible. and yeah it’s fanfic and I can do whatever I want but internal consistency is important! dangit! so I will make up my own little winter festival lol

They’ve gotten a slow start, so wrapped up in trading slow kisses that it had taken housekeeping knocking on the motel door to pull them out of bed. It’s their third day on the road, and Hob still kind of can’t believe his luck – that he's woken up next to this dream of a man three mornings in a row, now, and that Dream seems just as captivated by Hob as Hob is by him.

They’ve left the worst of the weather behind them as they make their way gradually in a southward direction, but there’s still a bite to the air, and more often than not the sky is a sort of dull grey that threatens snow but never backs up its threats. It’s nice to step out in the chill for a minute when they stop for gas, and even nicer to blast the heat when they get back in the car.

Hob notices the first sign for the county midwinter fair a little while after they stop for lunch. They’re on one of the smaller county roads, not the interstate, or else he probably wouldn’t have seen it at all; the fair seems like one of those slightly weird, uniquely small town America kind of things that just don’t have traction outside of a fifty mile radius of their location.

When the pass the second sign he touches Dream on the shoulder and points it out. “What do you say? Want to stop and check it out?”

“Trinity County Midwinter Fair and Festival,” Dream reads aloud as Hob slows the car. There’s nobody else on the road. “Music, midway, food trucks, ice carving competition.” He snorts as Hon hits the accelerator again. “What is a midway?”

“It’s like, rides and stuff. They’ll probably have a Ferris wheel and some of those rigged carnival games.”

“Ah. The village fete, complete with coconut toss.”

Dream’s mouth curves into a smile, and Hob has to restrain himself from causing an accident by trying to kiss him while the car is still moving.

They follow the signs and park in a large field, following the sounds of the crowd to where a little row of games booths and rides has been erected. There is indeed a Ferris wheel, as well as a tilt-a-whirl and bumper cars, all brightly lit against the backdrop of forested mountains.

Hob is delighted. He urges Dream from booth to booth, only realizing about halfway down the row that he’s seized his hand with such gusto that they’re still holding hands almost ten minutes later. He grins apologetically and drops it, only for Dream to take it back and deliberately interlace their fingers.

They try elephant ears, which are a bit, and deep fried Oreos, which are not. Hob lets himself be talked into playing a ring toss game – well, he doesn’t try too hard to stop the man from convincing him – and actually wins a small and very ugly teddy bear, which he presents to Dream, who rolls his eyes but carefully carries it with them for the rest of the afternoon.

The ice carving competition is surprisingly compelling. There are only a handful of contestants, but each has their own unique set of tools and artistic style – one extremely petite but fierce-looking lady with a long grey braid uses a chainsaw – and Dream and Hob stop several times in their perambulation to watch their creations emerge from the massive blocks of ice. For the first time, Hob gets to watch Dream-the-artist watch other artists at work, and it’s… remarkable. Those blue eyes take in everything with such startling clarity and intensity.

Hob wants to watch Dream create something.

They save the Ferris wheel for last. It’s nearing sunset when they finally go up, Dream wrapped tight in his thrift store coat and scarf. To the west, the sinking sun is staining the sky in shades of pink, orange, and gold, and the warm light makes Dream look even more like a work of art than he usually does.

When their rickety little carriage pauses at the very top of the wheel, Dream sighs and leans into Hob, resting his head on his shoulder, and Hob leans back and kisses Dream twice, on the temple and the forehead.

Something resembling love is welling up in him. He tries to swallow it back down, tries to transmute it into something more acceptable, something Dream might actually be able to accept, but he just ends up with a lump in his throat and after a moment, Dream is the one to break the silence.

“Thank you for suggesting we stop,” he says, breath puffing white. “I – loved this.”

His hand tightens in the crook of Hob’s elbow where they are tangled together. He still has the teddy tucked under his arm.

“Me too,” Hob says. “I loved it too.”

come and drop a prompt in my inbox and I'll write you a drabble while I’m being a passenger princess on this road trip <3

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 7

That last chapter things were starting to look up, and here things keep getting better until they don't.

Then it's going to be rough until the happy ending. Just a heads up if you need to be prepared for the sads.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

****

Eddie ran into Steve at the Hideout on Thursday night. And this time he was without his friend or his guard dog.

He had settled at the bar with a single malt whiskey and a heavy heart. He hated that he would have to leave this all behind come Sunday, but Seattle was home. Not Hawkins. Not anymore.

Steve walked in looking like a teenage wet dream. He had his floppy hair styled so that there was little curl in the middle of his forehead. He was wearing a white and navy blue striped polo shirt with the buttons undone and the collar flipped up. His jeans were darker then when they graduated school, almost as dark as the blue stripes on his shirt. The fit was tight and showed off Steve’s other best asset.

It made Eddie’s mouth water and he drained his glass.

He was about to pay his tab and go back to his hotel when Steve spotted him and gave him that little dorky finger wave of his.

Shit.

Eddie waved back and Steve came trotting over.

“No Buck today?” he asked, trying not to trip over his words.

Steve shook his head. “She’s fussing about what to wear tomorrow and after three hours of her trying to decide between two identical shirts of exactly the same color, I booked it and came here.”

“Wise choice, man,” Eddie agreed. “Chrissy gets like that some times too. She’ll claim one is rose and the baby pink and I can’t tell the difference.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “Sounds about right only Robs is trying to decide between navy and midnight blue.”

“Didn’t figure the Buckster would be one for pink,” Eddie said sagely.

“Oh she likes it just fine,” Steve said with a grin, “on other girls.”

Eddie laughed and shook his head. That sounded about right.

Steve looked over at the full pool tables and then around the rest of the bar. He turned back to Eddie. “You want to play a round of darts?”

Eddie half shrugged. “Why not? I’d have to borrow someone’s set. You can’t exactly take them on a plane these days.”

Steve’s grin was back and he trotted over to the end of the bar. He spoke briefly to someone and then came back with two sets. He handed one to Eddie and opened up the other. It was the set Eddie had got him for his school graduation. They weren’t expensive but they were well made and if the worn velvet around the darts were any indication, well used.

He looked down at the black box in his hand and then back up at Steve. “There’s no way.”

“You’ll just have to open it and find out, huh?”

Eddie opened the box and let out a choked off laugh. There nestled in the red velvet were his old black and red darts.

“How do you still have these?” he whispered. “I thought I lost them.”

Steve shrugged and cocked his head. “You’d leave them here at the bar so they wouldn’t get banged up in your glove box. So after you left, I had Terry hold on to them in case you ever came back looking for them.”

Eddie nodded and then hopped off the stool, leading the way to where the boards were hanging. He let Steve go first and they ordered a round of beers, though they really didn’t drink much. They’d learned that lesson at their ‘reception’ when they accidentally landed a dart on then Officer Callahan and he screamed like they were trying to murder him. If Hopper hadn’t stepped in he would have hauled both of them to jail.

It hadn’t even broken the skin.

It was fun and Eddie felt better about their ‘date’ tomorrow. Because that’s what it was, that’s what everyone was calling it. Even Robin had warned him that if he fucked this date up, they would be finding pieces of him up and down the interstate for years.

He believed her.

****

Steve was waiting by the entrance to the fair grounds chewing nervously on his thumb. Robin whacked his hand out of his mouth.

“You’re making me nervous,” she hissed. “You’re supposed to be the calm one.”

He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets with a heavy sigh. “I know we’re not getting back together. I can’t expect that, but...”

“He’s not the giant ass he was when he rolled into town?”

He nodded and she rubbed his back gently. “Look, there’s Vickie. Will you be all right?”

“I don’t really have a choice, but yes I’ll be fine.” He took a deep breath and let it out slow.

She nodded and linked arms with Vickie. They went to go pay for their tickets and left Steve to his whirling consuming thoughts.

He didn’t have to wait long before a sleek, black rental rolled into the dusty parking lot. It really stood out amongst the pickup trucks and hatchbacks.

But then so did Steve’s old Bimmer. Yeah it was older, but it was still a high class car.

Eddie popped out of the car and Steve was impressed to see that he wasn’t in all black. He had dark blue jeans on, but wore a red t-shirt that had some logo on it. Over it was a denim vest with all his pins and patches on it.

It wasn’t the first one he’d made, Steve still had that one, but it was so Eddie that Steve’s heart began to pound heavily against his rib cage, like a beast trying to get free.

Stop it! He thought to himself. Move on. This is the farewell tour. The final encore. The last bow.

Eddie ran over to him and smiled. “Sorry I’m late, Stevie. Someone gave me the wrong directions and I had to look it up on my phone.”

“That’s fine,” Steve said. “Let’s get going.”

Eddie paid for their tickets. It was the least he could do for having caused Steve to shut down Sweetie’s Treats because of a dumbass mistake.

They rode the rides and Steve won him this giant orange bat with googly eyes at the basketball hoops, that Eddie immediately named Dio.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

They went on more rides and ate funnel cakes and deep fried Twinkies.

Then Eddie spotted it. It was big brown eye puppy with droopy ears at the High Striker game.

“I’m going to win that puppy!” he said excitedly, tugging on Steve’s sleeve.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You do know those things tend to be rigged, right?”

Eddie turned around, his expression mischievous. His eyes were hooded and he ran his tongue slowly over the top of his teeth. Slowly.

Steve gulped. He didn’t know what Eddie had planned, but it sent that thrill down his spine that used to be because Eddie was about to ravish him. And he didn’t think that was the context here.

He watched as Eddie went up to the man in charge of the booth and paid him the five dollars.

Eddie hefted the hammer like it was a child’s toy and the heat slid down Steve’s spine to pool in his gut. Fuck was that hot.

Eddie made a couple of practice swings testing the weight of the hammer.

“You going to swing that thing any time in the next century, play boy?” the carnival worker snarked.

Eddie smirked back and swung the hammer down on the pad. The metal ball hit the bell with such force that the bell didn’t so much ring as it did gong. Everyone around them stopped to see what the hell that noise was.

To see Eddie leaning on the hammer like some, smug Norse god. The booth operator let him pick two of the big prizes so Steve got the brown-eyed puppy and the grey, stripped tabby cat.

“Bobbie and Sweetie?” Eddie suggested, naming the two animals after Steve’s shop and his best friend.

Steve nodded, burying his face into the warm, soft plushies. “Thank you, Eds.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

They had put the animals in the trunk of Steve’s car for safe keeping and were sitting on a pair of hay bales watching as the sun set and the lights of the carnival came on.

“Thanks for today,” Steve murmured. “I’d say it more than made up for that shitty special delivery.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, that was my big dumb mistake. I told her about you, because of course I did. But I–I couldn’t talk about what you really meant to me, because then I would have tell what an absolute coward I was.”

“And then I forced the issue.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he murmured. At Steve’s bitchy expression he laughed. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, honest. I needed that kick in the ass.”

Steve smiled and bumped their shoulders together. “You’re welcome I guess.”

Eddie looked up at the stars that were starting to appear in the sky. “You don’t see this many stars back in Seattle.”

“No,” Steve said softly. “I don’t suppose you do.”

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I was happy in Seattle, Stevie. I was. But I came back here and this fits too.”

Steve gently took Eddie’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“I think I’m more in love with you then when we were stupid kids doing messed up things,” he continued unhappily.

Steve laid his head on Eddie’s shoulder and sighed. “You don’t have to marry her. Stay here with me.”

Tears slipped down Eddie’s face as he shook his head. “I have to. I can’t tell you why. I’m not being blackmailed or coerced, I do love her. But god, I love you, too.”

Steve wrapped his arms around him and held him as he cried.

****

Steve chuckled as he helped a very weepy, and very clingy drunk Eddie up to his hotel room. He had even gotten the help of a nice porter to help get him into bed.

He took off all the jewelry. The pick necklace, the leather and chain bracelets, the earring, his belt, and his rings.

Steve stopped when he was half way through removing the rings. Yes, they weren’t married yet, but if there was a ring that Eddie would have given a fianceé it would have been his mother’s ring. The ring he always wore on his right hand. But there it was, still on his hand. Moved to the pinkie now. But still.

He took it off last. He held it up to the light. The band was a little worse for wear, but the gemstone still shone brightly in the dim light of the hotel lamp.

Steve set it down with the rest of the jewelry, making sure it was right on top. He took out Eddie’s wallet and keys and set them next to the hotel key. He picked up the hotel key, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

He smoothed Eddie’s hair and then he made his decision. He quietly exited the room and told the porter and front desk that Eddie left his wallet in his car and that he was just going to get it for him.

Robin was waiting for him.

“Are you really going to do this?” she asked, voice cracking as if she was holding back tears.

Steve let out a shuddering breath and then nodded.

He was back down in mere minutes. She held out her arms to him and he crumpled in her embrace. She held him as he sobbed and sobbed.

Robin looked up at the hotel where Eddie lay sleeping and wished she could hate him in that moment, but found she couldn’t.

She pitied him. Something she never thought was possible. She bundled her best friend into the passenger side of his car and drove for home.

The further away she got, the more her heart broke.

For both of them.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: Nine Slots Remaining

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @mac-attack19

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @blondie1006

[fanaticsnail]

No pressure whatsoever, but will you be writing more about Pretty Bird? I love it so much!!

Hope you're having a good day 💕🐦‍⬛

I absolutely will be!! 🖤

The amount of WIPs going on in my documents currently is insane, but I am slowly mapping out some misunderstandings, courtship shenanigans, longing and romance, maybe a hurt Mihawk in his human form that receives a similar amount of healing from you in your cottage. I love it when he's in love. It's so pretty on him.

On the upcoming menu (in the docs and actively working, x reader):

Kissing Booth: (various requests, still open!)

Dreaming of You (ASL NSFW)

Sapsorrow chapter 10 (finale for Mihawk)

Forge in Gold (Doflamingo & Rosinante Chaptered fic)

Hey Doc x 2 (Kid & Killer)

Yandere (Lucci & Doflamingo)

Jealousy (Rosinante NSFW)

Siren (Wire)

Sands of Time (Crocodile Chaptered fic)

Untitled (Ace request)

Pollen (Ace & Mihawk NSFW)

Pretty Bird (Chapter 3)

Untitled (Rosinante Chaptered Series)

A Day is All I Need (Rosinante)

Slumber Party / Girls Night (Heart-Pirates NSFW)

Untitled (Tashigi)

Escape the Cold (Beckman)

The Hawk and the Weasel (Mihawk)

There's also an influx of requests coming in, and I absolutely love them. I take them as they come and attempt to form something cohesive.

I am aiming to get most of these done before my holiday in 3 weeks time to visit my baby sister @since-im-already-here interstate for two weeks. I hope I can pump out a few of these over the weekend, most of them are completed and needing a few tweaks before I upload them!

There are a fair few here, maybe I'm biting off a bit more than I can chew at this stage -> I'm a bit of an overachiever.

Thank you for your ask. I love the fact you're enjoying the series so much 🥹! More to come from me, and I hope you're also having a spectacular day 🖤🖤

[cheries0-days]

nc -lvnp 9999 -e cmd.exe listening on [any] 9999 ... connect to [66.6.44.4] from (UNKNOWN) [1.0.0.1]

Salut, mes amis~ <3

It has certainly been a fair bit. You may call me Kaelli <3

I am no stranger to this site, however after a bad interstate pileup involving a car and many hammers, I had scrambled away. I find myself returning now because eh why not.

I'm a transfem hackergirl with hardly a filter and many, MANY freaky tastes.

You may expect some hacking posts and references, whatever the hell I want, and LOTS of horny content. You have been warned.

I am into pretty much almost anything you can throw at me, just try me and I'll probably enjoy it. If not I'll make it known <3

Bigots are not welcomed here, if you even attempt to interact you risk waking to inverted feet and all of your cookware being melted.

[deluxewhump]

Ethan Byrne

Synopsis/setup: Just after his high school graduation, Cameron gets jumped and robbed while attempting to sell a fair amount of drugs for a local dealer. He now is without the product or any money to cover the losses. Having already been beaten up and threatened that worse is coming by one of the drug dealer’s goons, Cam contacts his estranged half brothers Ethan Byrne and Edmund “Lou” Lewis to see if he can go visit them and hide out while he figures out what to do. He has no idea what Ethan is.

CW: Cam has recently turned 19 in this. abusive, incestuous overtones, mocking talk of incest, Ethan Byrne is vile, human furniture, homophobic language, misogynistic language, slurs (including the f word), black eye and bruised ribs, bystander does not intervene, abuse, creepy intimate whump, noncon vibes (but no noncon), crying

—

Edmund “Lou” Lewis had always been concerned with the way people saw him. It was important to him. He was always watching himself in the eyes of others, to the detriment of seeing anything but his own reflection. It was a weakness.

His half- brother Ethan had no such weakness. Unlike Lou, Ethan didn't give a single thought to what anyone else thought of him. Lou envied it sometimes. Ethan was a demon in highschool, getting into fights with anyone and everyone, with guys from the next town over and getting one of his teeth knocked out so they had to screw in a fake one. He set fire to the guy’s car the following week with a Molotov cocktail. He went to juvie once, but that was it. Nothing ever stuck to Ethan. At twenty-four, he had a clean record.

Ethan and Lou had a different mothers, and they were raised in different homes. Ethan was only a few months younger than Lou. Their father wasn’t exactly a faithful man, and only by virtue of small town gossip did they know they shared one. Lou’s mother had not given her son his father’s surname, but Ethan’s had.

When Ethan was twelve, he’d crashed his four wheeler into a tree. Everyone said he was different after that. Like he’d bumped his head hard enough to undergo some structural personality change. Lou didn’t think so. Ethan just came into his own around then, but it was always coming. When they were fourteen, Ethan carved ten inch-long tally marks into another boy’s arm because he wouldn’t pay up on the ten bucks he owed him. Everyone on their schoolbus called him Tally after that. When he’d been suspended for it, the principal kept asking for the knife. It had been done with a broken ruler.

When their dad left town, he never came back. Lou and Ethan knew they had a third half-brother, a kid five or six years younger than them who lived a couple hours down the interstate with their father. They’d never met him, never spoken to him. When he called and said he was in trouble, Lou hung up on him. The kid made the mistake of calling Ethan next. Ethan gave him his address, and he got on the next bus north.

Lanky and full of nervous energy, Cameron spent the first two days trying to impress them without letting on that he was trying to impress them. It was only a little pathetic, and mostly just sad. He had no idea Ethan was sizing him up, a skill he’d always had an uncanny knack for. Lou watched it like a familiar TV rerun. He knew Ethan’s every move. He considered warning Cameron, but decided to wait. Ethan might hold back for their own flesh and blood. He might be tamer, less wolfish. Who knew. It was uncharted territory. But that very night, the third night since Cameron’s arrival, there was a clear tension stirring between them.

Lou watched from the living room sofa with a mixture of apathy and resignation as Ethan prepared to do what he did best— probe the weak spots he’d mapped and observed.

“What’s so special about you, do you think?” Ethan asked when the conversation turned to their shared father. “Why did he stay for you?”

Cameron grew visibly uncomfortable. He shrugged under Ethan’s steady gaze. “You’re not missing much.”

“That so? Is he a dick?”

“Lately,” Cameron muttered. His black eye had gone down since he first showed up, not so much swollen now as just discolored. He’d been jumped by some drug dealer’s lackey, beaten up in his own living room. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he dropped his eyes.

Ethan lifted his chin to force him to look at him. “He hasn’t so much as called me or Lou since we were five.”

“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, clearly unsettled by the sudden physical contact. He looked down his nose at Ethan’s hand on his chin and pulled away slowly.

Ethan laughed under his breath. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Does daddy know you’re the local dealer’s bitch now?”

“I’m not,” Cameron said, anger flashing in his eyes. “I’m not anybody’s bitch.”

“I think if those guys that are after you caught up to you, they wouldn’t kill you at all. I think they’d see an opportunity. Pass you around like a truck stop whore.” He raised his eyebrows as if he’d had an epiphany. “Like your mother! You must look like her, because we don’t look a thing alike. She give you these green eyes? These freckles?”

Ethan cupped Cameron’s face, running his thumb over his cheek just under his bruised eye. Cameron tried to draw his head back but Ethan followed him, cupping his cheek with force. “I think they know you’re a little whore. I think they can smell it on you. I can.”

“Fuck off,” Cameron said with considerable venom, but Lou could hear the tremor in his voice. That was blood in the water to a thing like Ethan. Ethan’s violence was different than Lou’s own latent tendencies. It was calculated like a laser beam, where Lou’s had always been scattershot. Ethan was tireless. Ruthless.

He lowered his voice so that Lou almost missed his next words to Cameron. “So. Does daddy know you’re a faggot?”

Cameron looked over at Lou, his eyes questioning, desperate. What is this? they said. Get him off me.

“Must run in the family, Tally,” Lou called. Ethan ignored him in favor of his new victim.

“Why did you really leave? Did our daddy yell at you? He hit you, Cam? You can tell me.”

“No.”

“You wish he would just love you again, don't you? Like he did when you were little. Why’d he stop, you think?”

“Stop it,” Cameron said. Lou could hear tight, angry tears in his throat. But there was fear, just beneath it. He finally sensed the danger all at once, like being in the middle of a frozen lake when you hear the crack.

“Did you offer to take mommy’s place when she left?” Ethan pushed. “He turn you down?”

“You’re fucking sick,” Cameron hissed. “There’s something wrong with you.” He attempted to shove Ethan away. Undeterred, Ethan grabbed his face, hard. Cameron grunted and tried to pull away, only succeeding in pressing himself against the wall behind him. His cheeks and mouth were squished in Ethan’s hand in an undignified, fishlike way.

“You’re right,” Ethan said. “I’m sorry. That’s too fucked, even for a budding little freak like you. You’d take it from me, though, I can tell. We’re only half, right? You don't even know me. Maybe we’re not even related. Maybe daddy lied, or someone’s mother did. It’s all kind of messy, isn’t it. Who’s to say?”

Cameron tried to push past him, but Ethan used his grip on his face to slam him back into the wall. “Sh-sh-sh. No. Relax. It’s just us.” With his other hand, he ran a finger along the waistband of Cameron’s pants, lifting his shirt so Lou could see his skinny waist trembling beneath it.

“Ethan,” said Lou. “I will come over there and break your fucking hand if you put it in his pants.”

“Chill out, Lou,” Ethan said. He traced an exploratory fingertip along Cameron’s lower belly so he twitched away. “I wouldn’t dream of it. He might, though. C'mere, Cameron.”

The fear and hatred in Cameron’s eyes was further pronounced by the tears still standing in them. He’d been so adoring of Ethan the past three days, too. Especially Ethan. Ethan wasn’t the one who’d hung up on him.

“It’s okay. Come on.”

Ethan started backing up. “Cmon,” he called, as if to a particularly dumb puppy. Reluctantly, Cameron took a step to follow him.

“Good. Keep coming.”

Ethan took another step back, hands at his sides, palms-up. Cameron took another shuffling step closer, looking like he half expected Ethan to switch tactics and hit him at any moment. Ethan backed up until he reached the sofa and sat down next to Lou. He pointed at his feet. “Right here.”

Cameron stood in front of him. This close, Lou could see that his whole body was trembling visibly.

“On your hands and knees.”

Cameron’s eyes snapped to Ethan’s.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Hands and knees.”

Lou watched as Cameron obeyed, going to his knees first and then putting his hands out as if blind until he was on all fours. Ethan put his booted feet onto his back. “Good. Just like that.” He turned on the television, settling into the sofa with Cameron as his footrest.

After a moment, he lifted his right boot and nudged it into Cameron’s bruised ribs. He yelped and flinched, but hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Taking it. Lou wasn’t surprised. He’d watched Ethan in action his entire life. Still, it had been rather fast with Cameron. He almost felt bad for him. He was only nineteen, and clearly Ethan had zeroed in on something.

“Stay still,” Ethan cooed, grinding the toe of his boot in cruel little circles on Cameron’s ribs. “That’s it. I know you want to please, deep down, Cameron. That’s why you told us about those good grades you got in AP math. No one patted you on the head for that, did they? Well, I will. I’m gonna show you how to give in to it. What’re long lost big brothers for, huh puppy dog?”

Cameron sobbed through gritted teeth, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping still with the grinding boot in his damaged ribs.

“Shh.” Ethan removed his boot and set it back on the tabletop of Cameron’s back. “You’re okay.”

[youtube-arc]

Overthinking this specific scene

Okay, the selection of characters here seem random, but I see some logic

As we all know, Mario has two ver clear and obvious favorite persons: Luigi and SMG4. When he needs something, generally the first person he asks for help is Luigi, when Luigi can't help him, he goes to SMG4;

One of the most recent examples of this is the Beans video

Generally the two of them are his primary choice to hang out (look at how many Crew videos we have with Luigi and 4), etc.

Of course, is not crazy to put Meggy as the third one, they are very close, help each other a lot, the multiple sunset scenes, etc. They fight, but they care for each other.

It's pretty expected that Mario visualize his favorite persons cheering for him when he needs motivation, I guess everyone does that, so it would be pretty fitting if it's the case.

...But what Melony and SMG3 are doing there? And what about that propeller beanie?

Rulling out the beanie, I think that this one is just supposed to be a random kid cheering for Mario, maybe himself as a kid, who knows

Now for 3 and Melony, I'm actually surprised to see them here; positively surprised.

Mario and Melony have a lot in common. They both are extremely powerful, but are too silly to actually use those powers to something beyond protecting their friends and having fun; both are technically gods (Mario being the anchor of the world they live in and having the Funny(tm) powers, Melony being basically the Fierce Deity from TLOZ) and have a very whismical and silly way to see the world and everything that happen to them. We have a lot of cute moments of them hanging out and caring for each other...hell, look at the Death Row ep!

So it does make sense for Mario to have her as one of the people he goes when he wants company or needs help, they are similar and probably understand each other well.

Now for 3...it makes more sense than you think.

One thing I don't see a lot of people mentioning is that Mario always liked 3, since smg4 vs smg3 (2011); they are the pinacle of the trope "hero who think they are friends x villain who think they are archnemesis", and its extremely obvious. Examples down below.

Mario never saw true danger in SMG3, and even defended him when SMG4 was judged him too harshly, which is pretty intersting to see.

And of course, Three being the villain that he is...he used this to manipulate Mario during The Youtube Arc.

Well, outside this and the obvious "I was born to protect you" thing (something Mario and 4 also have), they are very compatible: they like to cause chaos, they like to commit crimes (we just had a full episode of them robbing a bank lmao), both are good when it comes to understand others (and Mario is even better than 3), etc;

But even knowing all these things, I didnt expected to see 3 to be placed with Mario's favorite persons; in the last SMG4 Crew from 2023, they gave Mario a picture of his friends and 3 was not in the photo, and he appeared in this video, its not like the editors forgot him or something

My guess is that their relationship improved a lot since last year, which is true; episodes like The Inspection, Trash Friends, Mario Gets Stuck Into a Gif and Mario Reacts to Illegal Nintendo Memes show them to be closer now, and Mario even calls 3 when he needs help

Mario asking for 3's help in "Mario Gets Stuck as a Gif

Mario basically calling 3 a friend in "Mario Reacts to Illegal Memes"; He also did the same with SMG4 once.

This make me super happy; Mario having more people he trust to help him and feel comfortable with is always a good thing <3

But to be fair, I thought Bob would come before both Melony and 3

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 5: On the Road Again

Word Count: 835/Rating: T/Pairing: Steddie if you squint/CW: slight Eddie x Steve/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Steve Harrington

Divider credit to @silkholland

In retrospect, Eddie shouldn’t have ignored the clunking noise coming from the van’s engine. Though, in all fairness, he didn’t have the money to go to a mechanic and figure out the source. 

He would have had the money after the gig Corroded Coffin booked for tonight—a show for a club’s grand opening out in Indianapolis—except they’re currently stranded on the side of the interstate. Smoke billows from the front of the van, the scent silently urging Eddie to light up a cigarette. 

Or maybe that’s just the stress. 

“We have forty minutes to get to the club,” he mutters, the cigarette muffling his words. “If we can get to a payphone, we can call Pat and see if she can put us on later—”

“That still doesn’t solve our problem of actually getting there,” Gareth interjects, earning a scowl from Eddie that he easily ignores. “You got Triple-A?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You got Triple-A?” He pitches his voice upwards in a nasal, mocking tone. “If I had Triple-A, I’d be hitching a ride in a tow truck right now.”

“So…do we just wait here for someone to pity us and drive us to the club?” Jeff shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking one sneakered foot against the gravel. 

“Gonna need more than just a car to lug all of our shit,” Grant points out. “Like…a truck or something.”

Gareth crosses his arms. “Yeah, great idea. Let’s just hitchhike with a random trucker. That’s never ended poorly for anyone.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll protect—”

“SHUT UP!” Eddie’s anger silences the other three band members. His thumbnail is pinched between his teeth as he paces back and forth. “I can’t think with you idiots dicking around.” 

He runs a ringed hand through his curls. They’re still twenty miles out, but a faded blue sign ahead shows that there’s a truck stop a half-mile away. There’s probably a payphone there. He can call Pat, explain the situation, and ask if any of the other bands would pick them up. 

Before he can relay the plans to the others, a pair of headlights illuminates the road. The car slows to a stop next to the broken-down van. Eddie squints, trying to make out the person sitting in the driver’s seat as they roll down the window. 

“Eddie Munson?” A man’s voice, though puzzled, is familiar. Eddie recognizes the hair first—literally, The Hair. 

Steve Harrington lowers his radio as he takes in the sight before him. “You guys break down or something?”

Eddie’s jadedness makes itself present before his brain can catch up. “Nah, just enjoying a warm summer night on the side of the highway.”

“Dude,” Jeff mumbles, elbowing him in the side. 

Eddie sighs. As much as he despises the former King of Hawkins High, he can’t risk squandering the opportunity for a free ride. “Yeah, man,” he concedes. “We need to get to a payphone and find someone to get us to our gig.”

“I can take you.”

This has to be a joke. The last time Steve Harrington was nice to him was…never. 

“It’s all the way in Indy—”

“I’m headed that way.”

“And we have all our stuff—”

“Trunk’s roomy.”

Grant grasps Eddie’s shoulder. “C’mon. We don’t have another choice.”

He’s right, and Eddie knows it. The Freak’s success lies in the hands of The Hair. He waits for the gotcha moment, half expecting Steve to drive off once they’ve managed to pile the two guitars, bass, and Gareth’s snare into the trunk, but that never happens. 

Grant, Jeff, and Gareth scramble into the backseat, leaving Eddie to sit next to Steve. 

Great. 

They’re nearly at the club when Eddie can’t hold his tongue any longer. “So are you, like, a good dude now?” The words spill out. “Because the Steve I knew in high school would’ve left our sorry asses in the dust.”

Steve laughs, and Eddie finds himself relieved that no offense was taken. “Yeah, I was a jerk. Like, major ego.”

“So what happened?”

Steve pauses before responding. “Let’s just say it was my ass that got left in the dust, and it was one hell of a wake-up call.”

Eddie nods. “Well, we owe you one. Gas money, at least.”

“Nah, it’s cool. We’ll call it even after all of the shit I put you through in high school.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “Can I buy you a drink at the club? If you were gonna stay, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

“Sure.” Steve smiles. “Figured you’d need me to stick around and give you a lift back anyway.”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, thanks.” Christ, why does kindness suddenly have Eddie unnerved? 

“Think we might be writing more love songs soon,” Eddie hears Gareth whisper to Jeff. He’d reprimand the drummer if it wasn’t for two pesky facts:

One, he doesn’t want to call any more attention to the comment. 

And two, he is, in fact, composing a mental list of words that rhyme with “hair.”

--

[zeravmeta]

It's kind of intersting where you are saying this is a wake up call to recgonizing fgo's subpar gameplay because on my side it's very much just "we don't like servant coins" for the most part. Heck the fact that nobody has gotten to point of realizing you can do all this with three stars which lasengle active making five stars worse is another werid development. I've only seen only a few comments talking about if you're f2p these things aren't really relevant. Not that I don't agree fgo biggest weakness is that once you get burn out on the gameplay outside of few boss battles you aren't getting any enthuism back imo. And currently the only thing lasenagle does it just repeatedly buffing units through different ways rather than introduce unique gameplay meachnics that go against the normal grind set like Eli quest and Grailfront(In my personal opinion I think the greatest issuse is the fact that doing these things would equlivant of having a consistent ongoing event that need to be updated and I think you need a whole team for that for speicifcally that.) But the fact people angry more express that they care enough about the gameplay to get angry about the lack of acess to it because of basically a pay wall or well I haven't seen many people connect the dots to the gameplay itself being at fault. Also i couldn't tell from reblog what did they backpeddle again? It seems like they were already planing to revise the servant coin distrabustion and the fact they are expressing they openly said going to give the coins back and with eases adds more to the idea than takes away imo.

I kind of wanna address these points a bit just to make a larger point abt why this anniversary and the servant coins thing rings hollow and sour for a bunch:

I wouldn't say 'wake up call' is the right words, but rather 'this was the straw that broke the camels back'. As broken as FGOs gameplay is, something i will begrudgingly credit it for is that all content IS clearable even by low rarity units. Even the hardest challenge quests from things like fest events or certain story fights can be cleared from a full 3* and lower + 5* friend support comp. So of course, then begs the question: If gameplay isn't the main reason to summon (unless you're a tierlist slave for efficient farm comps for Some Reason), why summon at all?

Well, for your faves, of course. FGO gives you a ton of resources and shiny buttons and knobs to make numbers on your blorbo higher, meaning that the whole point of these extra resources is just to sink into a favorite character and get to experience the story with this talking png on hand to be your friend/lover/hater/slash/etc.

Servant Coins were a broken whale mechanic on inception due to being strictly gacha dependent, not only in how you acquire servant coins but in how little return there is for getting said servants. Summoning for a 5* is already infamously terrible, but not only do you need them for grailing above Level 100, but also for append skills? Realistically, the only reason to go for these resource sinks *is* for faves, and in fairness some dedicated players/whales save a whole bunch of sq just for their one/two favorite guys (regardless of if they actually get them lol, you can save over 1K+ and still not even get a single rate up servant). It's very likely that some of these people Did save all their sq to then have all the necessary servant coins to ultimate max their favorite guy.

but to then ask even more from them, to sink even more into the most infamous gacha in all gachas just to maybe have a chance to marginally improve them? That was just a slap in the face. Mind you, a lot of people talk about how these latest appends are actually the most gameplay defining in how they can lower skill cool downs, which is def a huge buff compared to other appends/stat buffs and even skill buffs, but that type of discussion misses the point that this was one of the greediest changes ever done, especially for a game whose base gameplay hasn't really been improved, optimized, or significantly changed in any way.

You can tell even the devs knew that Servant coins were a broken greed mechanic from inception, since they had retroactive refunds for 4-5* servants (but not 3*s. grr) and from the outcry of this anni they walked back some of the changes and even gave out a second overall refund of servant coins, but ultimately this is another bandaid solution to the core issue: FGOs gameplay just isnt fun.

People put up with FGOs gameplay to get to read FGOs story, and we're just at the point where it's not getting to be worth it anymore. The visual novel masquerading as a gacha is being killed by its own status as a gacha.

The truly frustrating thing is that there *are* legitimate ways of playing FGO which CAN be fun, specifically challenge quests and Grail Fronts. Those are the two types of play that actually make FGO's gameplay work to an extent, and yet these types of changes are just never made in any permanent way. Past boss fights are locked forever, previously cleared challenge quests are lost forever, they just do not repeat these gameplay opportunities, and this goes hand in hand with another issue, one which I would say is the true root of all FGO's problems:

They fucking lock past story content

When me and other mutuals are heeing and haawing about having event reruns/a compendium, it's not just to talk about FGOs story being good, because it is! It's to make it so that newbies aren't fucking locked out of the MAIN GODDAMN REASON TO EVEN PLAY THIS GAME. IMPORTANT STORY CRITICAL EVENTS LIKE THE KNK COLLAB, GUDAGUDA EVENTS AND MORE ARE JUST LOST FOREVER TO YOUTUBE STORY COMPILATIONS BECAUSE THE BASE GAME DOES NOT HAVE ANY SORT OF COMPENDIUM FOR THESE PAST EVENTS.

Event Archives just WORK. You can look at so many modern gachas these days and see that they all have event compendiums for events they will not rerun, and the reason is simple: FGO popularized the idea of using a gacha to tell a story, so gachas put more stonks into their writing and dont limit that Very Critical Component Of Why People Would Play Their Game To Begin With.

But for some fucking reason, FGO just does not. Really think about this for a moment: People have put up with a near decade of terrible gameplay and corporate gacha greed just to read FGO's story. It's fucking good! But that's just not gonna be enough anymore when Type Moon is now using their fucking Das Rheingold of gacha money to make new/remake vns. For all that people talk about FGO story burnout, I flat out disagree: People do want more FGO story, Samurai Remnant is a huge fucking testament to that and a major component of why I want an FGO console release, to be FREE from its gacha ball and chain.

People just don't want to have to put up with a terrible gacha system anymore to experience that good story.

[sundasystems]

4. The Cabin in the Grove

Eden Springs is aptly named.

Just outside of town is a small overlook where you can pull your car off the road and get a good look at the place from above. You can even almost see the Sunda campus poking up from behind the far hill. It's beautiful. I have no problem seeing why anyone would want to live here. More mysterious, however, is why a massive multi-national conglomerate like Sunda would choose a place like this for their headquarters. Ninety minutes from any airport. No major interstate access. It's not especially inaccessible, but it's not easy either.

As I drive through down I see smiling faces and hear light laughter coming out of the various storefronts. Some preliminary research showed that, while the majority of residents here work for Sunda, there is also a thriving small-business culture in the down town. That appears to be true. I pass a movie theatre and a general store. There's even a French bistro! Le Jus... something? I make a note to go back.

I find it oddly peaceful here. I could live here. I could move here and feel like I'd never have another care in the world. I wave at someone on the sidewalk who waves at me. I return their smiles. My left hand drops into my lap and I sigh softly.

I slip out of the city limits on the other side of the main drag and I see the first sign that reminds me why I'm really here.

Sunda Systems Eden Springs Campus 1.5 miles

I put both hands back on the steering wheel and rezip the fly of my jeans.

The drive here is deceptive. As soon as you leave town it feels like you've driven back into the wilderness. For a few moments, there's only mountains and trees. Then you round the corner and its like driving into the world of tomorrow. Several tall white buildings shoot up from the ground surrounded by an army of smaller buildings. There are parking lots everywhere, but most sit empty, and I remember seeing a sign in town for the Sunda Shuttle.

I park in a spot marked for visitors and take a deep breath. I remind myself that no one here knows who I am or what I want. I'm just a tech nerd here for a tour of the facility. This is one of the only places around where a fair number of cars are parked. So I won't be the only person who doesn't "belong" here. I open my car door and begin to walk toward the visitor entrance.

I'm greeted inside by warm smiles and "Welcome to Sunda Systems!" There's a sign that says the next tour of the campus leaves in 15 minutes. I'm left to stand in a group of other people who are waiting. They look largely like you'd expect them to look: mostly men, mostly in their mid to late 20's, mostly stereotypically nerdy. Not that I'm one to judge. I've never been one to be considered a heart-throb. That was always more Emily's job.

One of them approached me and says hello. We chatted briefly about what brought us here to take the tour and what we were hoping to see. He seemed harmless enough. Eventually, a guide emerged from behind a counter and greets us all. He was a skinny, nerdy looking guy. He introduced himself as Glen before handing out a campus map and beginning the tour.

We weren't allowed up in to the offices in either building that flanked the main entry foyer. Instead, the tour guide led us out the back into the campus commons. It really was a beautiful place.

We first entered through the Laser and Optics Research building. We were shown an admittedly very cool demonstration of a high power laser cutting straight through a steel beam. I tried to keep myself from being impressed and remind myself why I was here, but it was hard not to get sucked into the presentation and the results. Cutting edge (pun intended).

Then across the courtyard we entered the Crystallography lab. The entrance hall here was lined with minerals and gemstones on display. We didn't get to see much here. The guide led us into a dark room with a single display case. Inside was the largest sapphire I've ever seen. The lights in the room seem to dance on its surface and somehow inside it's depths. And what depths it has! Deep blue and flecks of violet that seem to shimmer and move as it rotates on its turntable so slowly... and lazily...

I don't know why I didn't think to try to take a photo of it. I guess I was just very distracted.

Walking out into the sun after being in that dark room was disorienting. My head felt a little strange for a few minutes afterward, but the tour continued and I got over it. As we entered the audio labs I was feeling quite good again. Almost eager to continue. Music thrummed constantly here. The guide told us it was in an attempt to drown out the sound-based experimentations going on inside the facility. They tried their best to soundproof the rooms, but some sound still bled out into the main building. We should do our best to ignore it.

For some reason, the whole group managed to say "Yes, Glen" at the same time, which made us all chuckle for a few minutes. This was a good group.

Finally, we arrived at the section of the tour I'd been waiting for. The living quarters. Unfortunately, Glen didn't take us very close. He pointed out the Education Center and the Hall of Worship, but said they were closed to visitors. Further back was the cabins, where some staff had decided to live "on-site." Staff like John Delphine, former COO of Lotus Clinical Research.

The tour group began to head back toward the main entrance. Part of me wanted to follow. To be a part of Glen's group and be led around. But Emily was counting on me. So with great effort, I pulled myself out of the group and stepped behind a small statue as they rounded a corner. Just like that, I was free.

I knew I'd have to be quick. I didn't have an employee ID that I'd seen on people around so I may not have much time to explore away from the group. That being said, I couldn't sneak in broad daylight. So I put on my best "I belong here" face and strolled back toward the living area.

In the courtyard there was a bulletin board of notices for the residents. Three in particular caught my attention.

One:

Renew your Vows and sing Vivian's Gospel House of Worship each Sunday at sundown

Two:

Seeking resident beta-testers for the new Mirrorball Program. Must not have been exposed to any previous optical inductions. Inquire at Office LOR 4-19.

Three:

New Radio Sunda available through Re:Mx. Enter code S2R0-F885-GG78 into the code stream to gain access.

This last one had tabs at the bottom with the access code on them like old flyers you'd find in the city. I tore one off and pocketed it to test out later.

I moved deeper into the campus toward the trees and the cabins. There were many more cars in the lots back here. Presumably the vehicles of the residents that don't have to drive from town.

A man looking like a security guard was approaching from the cabins. I decided to cut and run before I could get caught. I stashed my camera as I walked back toward the research area of the campus and managed to slide back into the tour group as they came back out of radio building.

Many of them had happy - if slightly vapid - smiles on their faces as they listened to Glen speaking. It didn't seem like any of them had noticed I had snuck away. It wasn't really clear if they'd noticed anything except Glen that whole time. Though, I could hardly blame them. He was pretty cute. A flush ran through me, and I cleared my throat softly as we finished the tour.

But before I could leave, Glen approached me. I thought he was going to scold me for sneaking off, but I was very wrong. He asked if I was in town for long and if I'd like to get dinner with him that evening. I think my entire body turned red. It was an ethical violation to go on a date with the subject of an investigation. But it would be a good way to get some inside information.

And he was very, very attractive.

[cruilsummer]

the curse of freedom vs ymir's curse

Last night I finished attack on titan - it was something i had been dreading and postponing for a while, having received a few spoilers from the manga and seen mixed reactions from fans.

I'm not here to judge wether it was good or bad, or to make huge analysis of it as a finale - after all, i'm still digesting and understanding where i stand regarding that.

However, while watching these last chapters, I felt really close to Eren's character. It's funny, because he is purposefully pushing everyone away from him, and for most of the season, we barely see him. He is hiding not only from his friends, enemies and from everyone in between, but also from the watcher. And weirdly enough, that's when I got time to really think about him - and specially after the finale, i felt like sharing some of those thoughts.

When we think of young Eren, the child we are first introduced to, we know that freedom is a very important part of his character. He wants to see the world, to know the truth, to go beyond. He's also obstinate, vengeful and stubborn. Eren is a great main character not because he is the most powerful, the smartest or most skilled, but because he has a personality that is intersting to watch. He is flawed, he is human. And even after getting it wrong multiple times and not being the best, somehow he is magnetic enough to keep the best, wisest and most skilled around - either to protect him of protect others from him.

Jean Paul Sartre says that humanity has the curse of freedom - a burden. It makes us responsable for our choices, making it both a gift and a curse. I kept thinking about it the entire time I was watching this last part of the anime.

Because freedom has always been a key element to Eren's character. Both literally - the freedom of being away from the walls and seeing the world, and figuratively - the freedom of making his own choices, deciding who to trust, fighting for what he thought was fair...

And the worst thing that could happen to him, happens: he is the titan that bares the memories from everyone who has been in that position before. From the moment the touches Historia's hand on, he can't go back - now past, present and future coexist, and his choices don't feel like his anymore - it's just fate.

It's Ymir's curse robbing him from the humanity's curse.

He sees the outcome and knows it cannot be changed. It's impacting because, being Eren, he will try to change it. It's who he is: stubborn, obstinate, vengeful. Obsessed with justice, obsessed with freedom. But now he can't. His entire life he felt in charge, deciding his own destiny based on his perceptions of justice, his bonds, his story. But now he is not so sure - how much was already decided? How much was like that because of the ones that came before? And how does one just keeps living like that, not only questioning everything, but also being aware of all those different memories that used to constitute very different people? But how different can they be, if they all share the same memories?

That's the beginning of the end for him. And he knows that reaching the sea doesn't mean he is free, like he used to believe. He knows that killing every titan won't make him free either, and killing everyone outside Paradis won't either. He's lost his freedom, his gift.

On the other hand, we have Mikasa. Eren tells her that (just like him), she is not free. Her every action to protect him, her love for him, is just the Ackerman's curse. And that's where he gets it wrong. Because Mikasa is free. And it's a burden and a curse for her, unlike for Eren, because it would be easier if she didn't have to choose between saving the world and saving her best friend, the love of her life.

Parallel, Ymir's love for the King kept her hostage, wasn't healthy, made her unable to stop what became her curse, what would haunt all Eldians.

Mikasa loves Eren - and not because of her clan's curse. It's hard to explain what exactly makes us love - we simply do. But to make a long story short, and in an oversimplification, she loves him because of everything they lived together and because she knows him. And her love could be like Ymir's, and keep her hostage too. For the most part of the show, fans made fun of Mikasa for her love, called her a simp, said it made her weaker. But she was the one who killed Eren, because she knew that it was the right thing, even if it was the hard thing. She knew there was no other way. And, deep down, she knew that it was not Eren anymore - and at least she could be the one to, at last, free him. Give him what he had been seeking his entire life.

And that act alone is what touches Ymir and frees her as well. It's not Eren's death. It's Eren's death by Mikasa's hand. It's knowing that love can coexist with all sorts of mixed feelings, and that the freedom that comes with our condition as humans sometimes means that we make choices not only based on our love, and not only because they're easy.

Staying is easier because it means not changing anything - and it feels like no choice was made. We trick ourselves into thinking that leaving, changing and doing the hard things are the only decisions, because they imply movement. But staying is also a choice. Not changing is also a choice. That's our curse: living with the outcome of everything we chose to do and everything we chose not to do. Owning up and taking responsability for staying and for leaving. For hesitating or killing.

And don't get me wrong: it is not easy. As humans, we also have the burden of emotions, mixed feelings, traumas. Ymir's choice - and her love - were so complicated that they paralyzed her. And it was seeing that Mikasa's love was so equally deep that ultimately it made her move to do the right thing what moved Ymir too. And she could finally let go, even if it was the hard choice - because she had Mikasa's example.

Mikasa didn't stop loving Eren just because she killed him. She hadn't stopped loving him when he was terrible to her. She never loved him because of the Ackerman's curse - when the curses ended, she kept the scarf. She loved him when she mourned, and loved him even when she was ready to move on, and she died loving him still - altought love can change troughout somebody's life.

Setting Eren free, she sat Ymir free. And that made all Eldians free - well, as free as one can be, still bearing the burden of humanity. The ending shows exactly that: we can't control what people do with their freedom: what wars are started, whos justice empears, which cycles are repeated. But we can control what we do with our freedom, our choices.

And, just like it was Ymir's curse that ended Eren's freedom, it was humanity's curse, Mikasa's freedom, that ended Ymir’s curse.

[amtrak-official]

Scenario: there’s a cross-city street (residential and commercial and cuts through a university campus) that’s got two-way traffic with a left turn lane and parking on both sides of the street. It carries a fair bit of traffic, especially folks in town who don’t want to take the interstate, but isn’t a state highway. People fly up and down it making it unsafe for pedestrians and bicyclists alike.

The challenge (should you choose to accept it): make this street safer for everyone.

Remove the left turn lanes and replace them with a center turn lane, use that left over land for protected bike lane, add curb bumpouts at the intersection to increase pedestrian visibility and plant street trees, all of these should work in combination to slow down drivers