#my queer cockroach ass self

[batwynn]

Here’s to another one 🐦‍⬛

[vamp-stamp-fics]

Eddie Munson hcs

Tags: Eddie Munson Headcanons, mostly fluff, Eddie lives!Au, some steddie hcs too while I'm at it, some inconsistency

A/n: some of these hcs are based off of my own experiences so enjoy that lol

Edit: here's some old hcs I have that I found lying deep in my drafts collecting dust lol

_________________________________________

One time in 9th grade screamed "hail Satan" during the pledge of allegiance

Has a childhood stuffed animal (probably a teddy bear) that he still has out of nostalgia and that he's too connected to it to let go of it

Had a pet fish when he was younger. when it died he cried and buried it in the backyard. You can still kinda see the watered down cardboard headstone behind the trailer

This man is gay and realized that probably around middle school

Literally cried when he found out bc he knew what would happen if anyone (especially his dad) found out

Uncle Wayne's the only one in Eddies family that's supportive

I personally hc that's why Eddie lives with Wayne bc his parents found out and kicked him out :(

When he's not playing dnd or hanging out with the rest of the group he kinda just tends to stay in his room and practice guitar. That or goes into the woods

Or selling drug's lol

Has an extreme fear of bugs. Literally screams if he sees a cockroach in the trailer as he violently stomps the shit out of it

But if he's with the kids or the queer quartet (especially with Steve) and there's a bug he'll just act all brave and heroic and kill it

"seriously Harrington, with that scream the neighbors gonna think There's a girl in here"

"yeah haha real funny Munson"

But internally he's just as freaked out

Eddie secretly kinda always wanted to have a younger sibling so he could teach them stuff he knew and get them into stuff he was interested in and that's why he absolutely loves his relationship with Dustin bc he's like the younger brother he's always wanted

was absolutely ecstatic when he meet will

Basically took the kid under his wing like he did with Lucas, Dustin, & mike (A/n: side note people need to bring up more about Lucas when talking about Eddie being mentor for Dustin & Mike cus he's also a part of hellfire club so goddamn I'm doing it)

He also encouraged will to wear his "will the wise" costume to at least one of the campaigns

Speaking of hellfire club-

There's this hc I saw on TikTok that I absolutely love that Eddie lost a bet to Lucas and had to wear a princess costume to a campaign

Makes me laugh every time I think about it

I just imagine Eddie with a deadpanned face as the rest of hellfire tried not to laugh Thier asses off

Also Erica decided that she actually liked going to the hellfire campaign and decided to go more often

Tho she won't officially call herself a member cus "hellfire clubs for a bunch of losers" lol

(this for the Eddie lives!au where Eddie just goes with Dustin instead of going and trying to fight the bats off. I'm still mad about that 😒) How Eddie met will was after the "earthquake" when the rest of the group are at Wheelers house and the California crusaders (argyles group lol) are back in Hawkins and there all hugging each other and just happy everyone's okay 👍

"but vamp Eddie is wanted by the police shouldn't he still be in hiding and not in the public eye" I THINK A MURDER SUSPECT IS THE LEAST OF HAWKINS WORRIES AFTER A EARTHQUAKE THAT DESTROYED THE TOWN JUST HAPPENED

Anyways Mike and Dustin introduce will to Eddie (someone pls write a fanfic of this PLEASE-)

Eddie sees alot of his younger self in Will

Like ALOT

Besides the fact They're both queer (will didn't say shit about that btw, Eddie just knew) they're both seen as freaks and have similar interests with dnd so when Eddie and will learned more about each other and realized they had more in common

Steve & Dustin 2.0

obviously Eddie doesn't just sweep Dustin under the rug now that wills there but c'mon he can have 2 younger brothers can't he?

And Steves his bf he's gotta take care of their kid together/hj

Speaking of steddie Steve & Eddie kinda give off divorced parents taking care of Thier kid together and Secretly still are in love with each other but doesn't say anything to the other ab it

Eddie's also the 2nd person for Will to come out to and Eddie immediately accepts him

"I mean byer c'mon it was a little obvious"

"huh?"

"you're kidding right? I see the way you look at Wheelers brother"

Of course Eddie doesn't tell anyone unless wills fine with him telling someone else

which let's be honest he probably doesn't want Eddie telling anyone else at least until he's absolutely sure how they feel about queer people. And even then will probably be a bit hesitant on telling the person WHO he likes (A/n: totally not projecting or anything)

After will comes out him Eddie decides to pull a switch a roo out of his ass and come out to will as well

"besides the fact that I also know how you feel, considering I swing that way too"

Will is absolutely shocked

Bamboozled even

Just :0

As if Eddie doesn't look like a walking Skittles ad

Tbh I might make a little fanfic of this scenario :)

Back to when Eddie gets introduced to everyone

Argyle thinks he absolutely fucking cool

"wow man that's a pretty sick jacket"

"you, like metal?"

"well Eden listens to metal so if she likes metal I say it's pretty cool 😎"

Eddie, argyle, & Johnathan are smoking buddies

+ Eden sometimes if argyle visits her

(I'm sorry but I love argyle x Eden sm. They're in a long distance relationship damn it)

If Edens with them Eddie talk ab different type of music they're into sense they have somewhat similar taste

I hc Eden prefers goth music (Siouxsie and the banshees, the cure, joy division, sisters of mercy, Bauhaus) but listens to metal as well so if she wants recs she'll ask Eddie

They all just hot box in argyles van

Anyways back to Eddie hcs

When he graduates (finally) he does exactly what he said he would do: flip principal Higgins off and run like hell out of there

Hellfire club + the rest of the queer quartet, and Wayne was there in crowd cheering him on

After the ceremony tho he was absolutely ecstatic

Wayne gave him the biggest hug out of all them

"I'm proud of you kid"

Nearly teared up when Wayne said that

Jonathan took a bunch of pictures

They had party at Wayne's trailer

Nothing too fancy but there was enough people to call it a party

He also has a pet rat named Ozzy

A/n: anyways these are all the hcs that I could pull out of my ass for now but I might update this post if there's more I can think of

[gravegroves]

It's not that Billy isn't grateful that the bastard sprung him out of the secret government lab he'd woken up in and subsequently spent weeks or maybe months being poked and prodded.

But out of all the closeted queers in Indiana that could have taken Billy under their wing, Murray goddamn Bauman is probably the last one that should legally be allowed to care for another human being. On the flip side, he may have single-handedly convinced Billy that heaven must be real, if only because Murray has most certainly dragged Billy to some version of hell. A better hell than he'd come from, but hell all the same.

Billy's starting to really hate classical music.

The fact that he's still bedbound doesn't help the situation any. If he could walk he'd smash that damn sound system with his bare hands or just fucking leave. But walking isn't an option while his body tries to heal, so if Murray doesn't soon turn off the 9th repeat of that Bach-Rachmaninov-Mozart bullshit he's blasting throughout the bunker-like structure Billy has been forced to call home for the past two weeks, he's going to strangle himself to death with the IV tube still lodged in his arm. Hopefully he'll shit himself after the fact and Murray will be forced to clean that up too.

"Turn that crap off or take me back to Hawkins you balding piece of shit! At least my dad only beat me!" Billy roars at the water stained concrete ceiling and grits his teeth against the pain when the move pulls on what feels like all the stitches in his body.

Murray glides into his field of vision like an unwashed spectre and throws himself onto the couch opposite the one Billy's lying on, still dressed in that same ratty bathrobe that probably hasn't been on the laundry pile in years, smiling that maniacal smile that Billy is less and less convinced is put-on by the day.

"Self degrading humor to mask the pain. You'll fit in here just fine." Murray sing-songs before getting back up and scuttling his way out of the room like the cockroach he is and into what Billy thinks might be the kitchen. Doesn't exactly know the layout of the hovel they're in, being bed-bound and all that.

The music cuts out and all the muscles in Billy's body slowly unwind as he breathes a sigh of relief.

Murray comes back with a flask of something foreign and pours a generous glass before handing it off to him, either unaware that Billy probably shouldn't be mixing alcohol with the cocktail of drugs he's still on or, more likely, doesn't give a shit. Billy downs it before the man can even open his mouth, too quick to really appreciate how it goes down smoother than water.

"You fucking philistine. That's good Stolichnaya." Murray grins before downing his own helping straight from the bottle.

"You a commie?" Billy asks, such a carbon copy of Neil he can almost feel the man's hand up his ass directing his words like a fucking puppet and he bites his tongue hard enough to hurt. Not that Billy's a big fan of the commies or the government or Neil or anyone really, but he's fairly sure they're the worse guys if this whole situation were a contest.

"Nice ideology, poor execution. No, but I'm gonna teach you how to speak like one Billy-boy!" Murray says, snatching away Billy's empty glass and filling it for him once again. "No one learns Russian well when they're sober though, so drink your heart out. It's gonna be a long year."

Billy stares.

"The fuck am I learning Russian for?"

Murray grins.

"Gotta go save a bigger Bastard than you or I."

"And why the fuck would I do that?"

Murray throws his hands out wide, "For the greater good, Billy. And maybe Steve Harrington will touch your dick about it, who knows."

Drugs really have a way of loosening Billy's tongue as it turns out, and it had taken a good day and a half for the worst of the effects to wear off after Murray had gotten him out. The Bastard hadn't let the opportunity to pry slip by him though, that's for fucking sure.

Billy scowls.

Besides, Steve Harrington doesn't even know that Billy's still alive. No one does. And even if he did… well.

The greater good will have to be enough, he supposes.

[offical-dystopiantale]

*Chapter 2: Talk to me..*

Ink: Age 16

Error: Age 17

Part 2

*If self harm, suicidal thoughts, verbal and physical abuse are triggers for you, please skip over the section I have marked out*

“Error!”

The skeleton looked up as his name was called, his eyes landing on Ink; who was running across their school’s front lawn to where the ebony monster sat

“Hey.”

Ink plopped down onto the grass beside him, huffing. “What are you doing out here? Aren’t Basketball tryouts going on right now?” A breeze blew past them, kicking up a few of the yellow and red leaves that littered the ground; Error shivered, but he much preferred the cold to the heat of the summer. Besides, in fall, no one looked at you weird for always wearing sweaters.

“Last I heard, yeah. In the gym.” He snorted, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “Why? You wanna join this year?”

“Oh gods no! I just… I figured you would tryout.”

“Why?”

The white skeleton picked up a fallen leaf, idly ripping it up into small bits. “You were on the team in grade 9, and last year… you were really good too. It looked like you had a lot of fun.”

Error pulled anxiously at the sleeves of his hoodie and avoided looking at Ink. It was true, he had really enjoyed playing on the team and his height definitely gave him an advantage that made him feel… powerful. Useful. Or it had, at least. Now he couldn’t find any motivation to try it again.

It doesn’t make him excited anymore. Nothing really did.

So what was the point?

“I just… don’t feel like doing it this year.”

Ink hummed, reaching out and taking Error’s hand. The larger skeleton stiffened. “I feel like you’re not telling me something…”

Error pulled his hand away, stuffing it into his pocket. Why did Ink have to care?!

“You can talk to me about anything, you know…”

“Ink…”

He looked up, meeting his friend’s gaze. Ink stared back at him, locking their eyes and not looking away for a second. “I really, really care about you Error… I’m here to help you… Is, um, is everything ok? At home and stuff?”

The bell rang, the sound all but piercing through the air. The taller of the two boys all but jumped up, grabbing his bag. “See you in fifth period.”

Ink called after him as he quickly walked away, cursing himself. He rubbed his arms nervously, his mind wandering to the scars underneath. How did Ink know?! He made sure to never bring up anything from his home life, made sure to never mention the secrets carved onto his ulna and radius.

Ink wasn’t supposed to know.

He wasn’t even supposed to suspect anything.

That was the whole fucking point!!

Error promised to protect him. He promised. If Ink knew what he’d done, what he thought.. it would hurt him. How the hell could he still says he’ll protect him if he’s the one who hurts him?!

Well, technically there was something he could do…

Error pushed the thought down. Now wasn’t the time for that.

He’d continue to deny anything his friend threw at him. He’d act the same as he has for the past two years. Ink didn’t really know. He was just worried. All Error had to do was squash that worry. As if it were a cockroach.

After all, he was fine.

Error sat down at his desk, pulling out his science papers, his eye lingering on his arm.

… He just needed for Ink to believe he was fine, whether or not that was true couldn’t matter less.

*****

“Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Error glanced quickly at Ink who sat in the passenger side of the car. The white skeleton was staring out the window, his chin resting in his palm.

He looked relaxed.

Cute.

“Nah. Mom usually hands out the candy and dad does what he always does. You know neither of them really go out of their way to celebrate this sorta thing.”

Ink giggled, eyes shifting toward his friend as he cheeks gained colour. “So you’ve said, multiple times.” He sat back in the seat, arms crossed in front of him. “Anyways, my mom’s going out to a party on Halloween night, leaving little ol’ me to tend to handing the candy out all alone.” The small skeleton dramatically wiped at fake tears, faux pouting. Error snorted. “And I thought, maybe a certain someone could come over that night to help me. We could even watch horror movies and binge eat some snacks!”

The monster driving snorted again as Ink awaited his response. He knew the ebony skeleton would say yes; they always hung out on Halloween. When they were younger, Winter would take them out Trick-or-Treating together and the two boys would have a sleepover afterwards; where they’d giggle and eat way too much junk food. But, seeing as both of the monsters had outgrown their candy hunting days, they preferred to stay in and watch bad horror movies while eating chips and popcorn; with Error occasionally making a crude joke about the film they were watching or something else that had happened during the day.

“Isn’t it just a given that I’ll come over now?”

“I mean, yeah. But I didn’t want to assume anything.” Ink winked, giggles erupting from him as Error stuck his tongue out in response.

“We could totally play a prank on the kids as they show up. Give ‘em a little trick with their tre-“

Error stopped mid-sentence, his tongue becoming cement in his mouth. He was just pulling up to the sidewalk in front of their houses when his eyes had landed on his father, standing on the front steps of his home.

He was mad.

Actually, mad was an understatement. Cyber looked absolutely pissed.

Error swallowed hard, grip tightening on the steering wheel. What had happened to get his dad so mad? Nothing came to his mind when he tried to think of something he’d done: his room was pretty clean, his bed was bed made, the laundry put away. He hadn’t done anything wrong so what-

His mind skidded to a stop like a train that was pushed off the tracks and ending with a loud, fiery crash.

The pins.

The pins Ink had gotten him a year ago. He’d made sure to keep them tucked away so his dad wouldn’t see them, but this morning he had been in a rush trying to find where his extra pair of headphones had gone. He had pulled them out and left them on his desk. He had eventually found what he was looking for, but had forgotten to put those secret pins away (He had accidentally crushed his good pair of headphones the night prior, and had made a mental note to buy some new ones).

Now, if his father had been anyone else they wouldn’t have thought twice about seeing the pins. Or maybe they wouldn’t have cared. But this was Error’s father, the man who’d take any opportunity he saw to harass his son; be that verbally, or - on the rare occasion - physically.

“Is that your dad?”

“Yup.” His voice cracked and he cursed himself. He took a deep breath and blocked off his emotions to the best of his ability, isolating them from his voice.

“He looks mad… did something happen?”

“Dunno.” He turned the car off, undoing his seatbelt. “You should head home. I’ll call you later.” His voice sounded distant and hollow, even to himself.

Ink hesitated, looking his tall friend up and down, checking for any signs that he wasn’t ok. Once satisfied, he sighed and muttered a small ‘ok’ before leaving the car. Error exited after him, watching as the small monster walked solemnly to his home with Cyber glaring at him. Hatred boiled up in Error’s soul, Ink hadn’t done anything wrong. How dare his father look upon him with such hateful and condescending feelings.

With his back straightened, he strutted up to his father who had turned his angry gaze to his son. Error met his eyes with the same loathing stare.

Error looked remarkably like his father: they had the same dark bones with the rare red and yellow bone along their bodies, they both had the same blue markings under their eyes (though Error only had three strips while Cyber had five.) The only things different between the two monsters were their eyes - Errors were a bright red, with one yellow eyelight and the other yellow with a blue pupil; while his father’s eye sockets were black, like most skeletons, with yellow eyelights. The second difference was pretty obvious: their personalities. Cyber Sona was cruel and cold, someone who only really cared about himself. Someone who drank away his problems and solved conflicts with violence. And Error… well, he didn’t know how to describe himself, but he knew he wasn’t as bad as his dad.

… At least, that’s what he hoped.

As the seventeen year old walked up the steps, his father pushed open the door. “Get your ass in here now.” His voice was deep, like a rumble in the Earth. It sent a shiver down Error’s spine as he entered his home, skull hanging low.

Cyber slammed the door after both of them were in the house. Error’s mother was busying herself with cooking supper in the kitchen, completely ignoring what her husband was about to say to their son.

Error often wondered if his mom even cared or if she was in the same mindset as his father.

Either way, Error moved to stand on the other side of the kitchen table, closer to his mom. Considering she’s never hit him, maybe it was just natural for him to feel at least a tiny bit safer near her.

Cyber tossed the two pins, the rainbow and pan ones, onto the table. They skidded to a stop near the center; Error winced and looked down.

“What the fuck are these?”

Cyber’s voice sounded menacing, and Error shrank into his sweater, staring at his feet like a child who was caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

Cyber slammed his fist onto the table top, causing Error to flinch backwards. Mumbling, he answered, “They’re just pins…”

“‘Just pins’...” His father jabbed a finger at them. “They’re part of that goddamn queer group.” He crossed the table to stand in front of Error; they were nearly the same height, but Error was still a bit shorter than him. He wanted to scream at his father, tell him he wasn’t, and never will be ‘his’ son, that it doesn’t matter if he was gay or not. But he kept his mouth shut, the fear inside him extinguishing any confidence he had. “Do you really think you’re gay.”

His voice had suddenly changed, taking on a soft tone. Error hesitantly looked up to meet his father's eyes.

“I-“

~Trigger Warning~

He was suddenly grabbed by the front of his hoodie, his father pulling their faces close, expression becoming dark. “Are you really going to do that to your mother and I?!”

He let go of the fabric, pushing Error to the ground; he went without a fight, grunting as his body hit the hard floor.

Cyber knelt in front of him. “You’re already such a fucking disappointment and burden to us... and now you’re going to say you’re a f*ggot as well?!”

He grabbed Error’s wrist roughly. This time, the boy tried to pull away, yelping.

That yearned him a hard smack to his head. “What do you have to say for yourself, you piece of shit?!”

Rage filled Error as he looked up as his father. He didn’t do anything wrong. It didn’t make him any less of a person just because he could love another dude! He wanted to spit on him; tell him to go fuck himself. Cyber must have seen that spark of fight in Error’s eye sockets as he painfully yanked his son’s arm forward, causing him to call out in pain. The force of the pull caused Error’s sweater sleeve to get pushed up on his arm, his cuts coming into full view.

Panic surged through the monster as he tried desperately to get his arm away from his father.

Cyber only laughed.

“You’re a fucking pussy too? Can’t handle all of life’s problems can ya?” He leaned in close, a sick grin plastered on his face. Error wanted to cry, but refused to do so in front of this son of a bitch- “Grow up. Life isn’t going to change just because you feel a little bummed out kiddo.”

Error was trembling, Cyber finally let go of his arm and the younger monster pulled it close to him. His father burst into more laughter, making Error bristle. “Why don’t you just go kill yourself then, huh? It’d make life so much easier for all of us… besides, no one’s gonna love someone like you.”

A sob escaped Error, his father snorting. “Go to your fucking room.” He said, standing back up. When Error didn’t get up, his father repeated himself; this time yelling.

The ebony monster shakily got up and scurried off to his room like a wounded animal.

He broke out into sobs once the door was safely shut behind him, sinking to the floor just inside his room.

He hated, absolutely despised his father.

He sobbed harder. Why the hell did the words he said have to affect him so much?! He knew his father was an asshole who was full of horse shit.

But it still hurt. It still hurt so badly to know he wasn’t enough, that he’d never be ‘good enough’.

He fumbled to his desk drawer, yanking it open and pulling out a small razor blade.

He knew he could just conjure up a knife with his magic, it would probably be easier than keeping these blades around. But, in a way, Error likes the feel of the cold metal. It was sick and he knew it.

He slid the blade along his wrist, another sob leaving him as a bead of blood slowly flowed out.

Usually when things got this bad it only took him three or five cuts to fully push the sadness away, to bring him into a state of cold numbness.

Five cuts came and passed.

As he got to ten, he was shaking roughly, letting the small razor slip from his fingers. A new wave of tears came crashing down on him, his hands coming up and gripping the side of his skull.

He was disgusting. All of this made him revolting.

Unlovable.

A disappointment.

If Ink knew… god, if he knew, he’d see Error as he really was: a grotesque shell of a monster, undeserving of any of the care he’d been given.

A light came on across from him. His head whipped upwards, soul dropping to his feet. His door, which he still sat in front of, was directly in front of his window; a perfect viewing point for anyone to see him if they looked from the house next door.

Exactly as Ink was now.

There was a look of shock on his face, then horror as Error jumped to his feet, stumbling to the blinds and shutting them hastily.

He’d seen the blood, Error knew he had.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

His phone began buzzing in his pocket; he pulled it out (if he hadn’t been so distressed, he probably would have taken time to be surprised the screen wasn’t cracked after his father’s little ‘display’). Ink was calling, of course it was him, who else would it be? But that confirmed that he’d seen what Error had done.

The skeleton pressed the red button, putting an end to the buzzing.

Ink knew.

Error flopped onto his bed. He’d tried so hard to keep this from Ink, and he still failed.

Ink probably hated him now. He had no reason to care anymore, he’s seen what Error was really like.

“Why don’t you just go kill yourself, huh?”

Error knew how to sneak out of his window, he’d done it before. But to do that, he’d have to see Ink.

His phone buzzed again.

Fuck it.

He pulled open the gray blinds. Ink’s room was dark.

Error wondered briefly where he went as he opened the window and hopped onto the small ledge below it. Next, he carefully edged to the side, dropping down onto the ground.

He still had the car keys and he had a good place in mind where he wouldn’t be found.

Well, hopefully he wouldn’t be found.

~End of Trigger Warning~

*****

Ink was scared. He’d never seen Error act so skittish.

He’d never seen his eyes so full of tears.

… and the blood…

His soul ached painfully in his chest as he tried, again, to call his friend.

Voicemail...again.

He was pacing in the living room, anxiously biting the tips of his fingers. He knew that Error had been hiding something from him. The way he suddenly started wearing only long sleeves; how he never wanted Ink to come inside his home; and, then today, when he said he was going to stop playing basketball.

But Ink never pressed him to share what was bothering him.

He never did.

His mind was brought back to Error’s arms. There was so much blood… what had caused him to do it? Why hadn’t he come to Ink for help?

If he was cutting… how long had he been doing it? How long has it been a secret?

Was he suicidal? The thought of losing his best friend brought a heart wrenching pain to his soul.

“Ink, sweetie, are you alright?” It was his mom, standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Should Ink tell her why he was so worried? She was a nurse, so maybe she’d know what to do; but at the same time, Error obviously didn’t want anyone to know…

“I’m just worried about Error, he’s not answering any of my calls-“

The sound of a car starting and driving away came from outside caught Ink’s attention.

… Error had their car keys.

Rushing to the front window of his house, he peeked out. Sure enough, the car he shared with his friend was gone.

Shit.

“Ink, what’s going on?”

“I need to borrow your car.”

“Excuse me?” Her hands were on her hips, and the short monster sweated nervously. Seeing her son’s anxious expression, she continued: “Honey, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

Ink took a deep breath. He loved his mother to death and knew she meant well, but now was not the time! Who knew what Error would do out there all alone?!

“Mom-“

“This isn’t negotiable.”

He clenched his fist. He wasn’t an angry monster, if anything, he was typically very calm. But right now…

“What’s going on is my best friend might kill himself!!” His voice cracked and it came to his attention that he was very close to tears.

Winter stared at Ink in shock, her mouth agape. “S-so I need to borrow the car so..” He took a shaky breath, his eyes welling with tears.

“Where do you think he’s gone? I’ll drive you there.”

“Mom, no, I’ll gone alone.”

Winter was already at the door, pulling on some shoes. “You’re head isn’t clear. Neither you or Error should be driving when you’re so upset.”

“H-he’ll freak out if you’re there too, he’s already so upset I-”

“I’ll just drop you off and then leave. You will call me if you need a ride back.” She opened the door. “Now come on, we need to hurry.”

*****

Error took a deep breath and leaned against the oak tree on the hill, his breath forming a small cloud in front of his face. He’d come out here because he figured it would be a good place to do… what had to be done. But once he had arrived and seen the tree, and the stars, it had made him think of Ink almost immediately.

He was probably mad at Error.

He was probably worried out of his mind.

“I really, really care about you Error…”

The skeleton grumbled, wrapping his aching arms around himself. He knew he couldn’t do it. Even if he really wanted to, even if he knew not many people would care.

Ink would care.

Another sob escaped him. He was tired of crying at this point. He craved that numb feeling he hated so much. He was scared and tired.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore, but where else could he go? Neither of his parents would comfort him. If anything, his father would just tell him to go off himself again. He supposed he could finally return Ink’s calls… did he really want to answer his friend’s questions though?

… No, he didn’t want to. Shame lay heavily on his shoulders. How would he explain how he felt to Ink? How could he?

“Error?!” The ebony skeleton shot upwards, stumbling as he stood and instinctively hiding his arms behind his back. He’d taken off his sweater earlier, and hadn’t thought to grab it before leaving. Ink stood near the bottom of the hill. When’d he get here?! Error hadn’t heard a car pull up-

Error’s eyes caught on Ink’s mother’s car driving away. Well, that explained how he got here at least. But how had he known this was the place Error would run off to?

He supposed it was pretty obvious; this was their spot, after all.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Ink’s voice was loud and his clenched fists were trembling. His large eyes were full of tears, causing a pang of guilt to course through Error’s soul.

“I-Ink, I’m-”

“You’re a fucking idiot is what you are!” Ink was walking quickly to were his friend stood and, despite his height, Error couldn’t help but feel intimidated. In all the time he’d known him, he’d never seen Ink so upset. He couldn’t even think of a time where he’d ever heard Ink swear before beyond a small ‘shit’ here and there.

Ink stopped when he stood in front of Error. He was still shaking and tears flowed out of his eyes. The taller monster wanted to stop the tears; he wanted to stop his friend from hurting.

Most of all, he wanted to stop those god awful tears.

“I knew there was something wrong! You suddenly became more.., quiet, and-and you started only wearing long sleeves and- ”

“You only wear things that cover your arms too…” Error’s voice sounded scratchy from all his crying; so he kept it low, looking to the ground. Besides, if he looked into his friend’s eyes, he knew he’d just break down again.

“Yeah, I do. Because I'm hiding something, error!” Ink sniffed, wiping at his tears. “Why.. why wouldn’t you tell me about this?”

The softness in his voice convinced Error to look up; Ink’s eye lights were so full - full of worry, of anger… of sadness. The ebony skeleton felt himself tear up as well.

“I… I didn’t want to hurt you… I promised I’d protect you and i-if you knew you’d be sad and I-” He whimpered, his arms moving from behind him to wrap around his cold and tired body. The tears he’d be holding fell from his eye sockets once again.

“Error… “ Ink reached out for his friend, but flinched when he got a good look at his arms, at the scars. “Oh Error… how long… how long have you hidden this?” The monster didn’t answer, sobbing harder. He stumbled forward, pulling Inks into a hug. Ink didn’t fight it, instead he wrapped his smaller arms around Error, rubbing his lower back as he bawled.

Ink was warm in Error’s arms, like he belonged there. And Error would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t feel good to be comforted.

“Y-years.” He finally mumbled, holding his smaller friend tightly as he trembled. “My dad.. I… “

Ink pulled away slightly, looking up at him. “Let’s sit down, Ok? You’re going to tell me everything.”

Error was too exhausted to fight Ink on this right now, so he just nodded, pulling away and sitting down in front of the tree. The smaller monster didn’t follow him, instead he hesitated. “There’s a first aid kit in the car, i’m going to grab it, ok.”

“Why?”

Ink pointed a finger at him. “We can’t just leave those like that. They should be cleaned and bandaged.”

It didn’t take Ink long to grab the first aid supplies and soon he was sitting next to Error, asking him gently to show his arms.

“Can.. Can you tell me why you did this?”

Error hesitated before he let it all pour out of him; it was like a damn breaking.

He told him about how his father had treated him poorly since he was a kid. How his father would sometimes take a swat at him. About how his image of himself had been going down for years.

He also talked about the numbness.

Ink was quiet as Error vented, listening intently and tending to his cuts.

When he finally finished, Ink finally spoke up. “Your father… is abusive.”

“I guess you could call him that.”

“There’s no ‘guess’ about it… shouldn’t we call the police? They can help or-”

“No”

“Error, come on, this is serious.”

“We’re not calling the police. I’ll be moving out in a year anyways…”

“You almost killed yourself because of him!” Error flinched and Ink signed. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I want you to be safe.”

The ebony skeleton didn’t answer, just looked away. He was feeling better after telling Ink everything. As if a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Though he wanted to hold Ink again.

“I… I don’t want to deal with the cops.”

“... You need to get professional help, at the very least.”

“Isn’t therapy like, really expensive?”

Ink shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of talking to the counselor at school.” Error grimaced at the thought. He could barely tell Ink all this, and now he wanted him to spill his guts to a random stranger at school? “Oh, she’s not that bad. She’s actually really nice.. I’ve talked to her a few times. She’d be able to help you deal with all this.”

“I told you, isn’t that enough?”

“No. I’m just… another person, Error. I don’t know how to handle depression, or how to learn healthy coping mechanisms. That’s why there are professionals.” Seeing his friend’s uncomfortable expression, he added, “I can come with you, too. So you’re not alone.”

Error sighed … The thought of getting better, of feeling better than this, was very appealing.

He wanted to get better.

For Ink.

… for himself.

He wanted to be better.

“Ok. We can go see her on Monday.”

Ink smiled gently, patting Error’s knee.

“Hey… I have an idea.” He pulled the locket he always wore around his neck over his head. It was round, light pink at the bottom, fading onto a light purple at the top. The skeleton took the larger monsters hand with his own, opening it. He placed the small necklace into Error’s hand. “You can have this.”

“W-what? No, you always wear this thing, you love it!”

“Exactly. This way, whenever you’re feeling like you're alone, you can just look at this and it’ll remind you that you’re not alone! That I’ll always be here for you.”

Error looked down at Ink’s locket. He honestly had no idea what picture was in it. He popped it open, inside was a picture of the two boys from last winter. They were standing by the large christmas tree that was set up in the city’s center every year. Ink had a scarf wrapped around his neck and chin, a warm cup of tea from the nearby coffee shop in his gloved hands. Error was beside him, drinking from his own mug - his had been full of coffee; something the smaller of the two found too bitter to drink.

Error could still remember that day clearly. Winter had suggested driving the two boys to the center of Blightview since the ice rink had just opened for the next few months and, after Ink’s persistent begging, Error had agreed. He had absolutely no idea how to skate though and the evening was spent with him trying his best to stay upright, and his friend fighting back giggles as he tried to help. Once Error had gotten annoyed with constantly falling on his ass, Ink suggested they go get something to drink. They walked around the tree and other displays for a while and, when they weren't paying attention, Ink’s mother had taken multiple pictures of them: like the one that now sat in the locket.

Error smiled at the memory, closing the locket and putting in on. “... thanks, Ink. For.. all of this.”

Ink hummed. “You said you didn’t tell me because you promised to ‘protect me’?”

The ebony skeleton nodded.

“Protecting me, and keeping me in the dark are two different things Error… I get you’re protective, but that should just apply to bullies and shit. This… you can’t help how you feel, and what you’re going through… no one should have to do that alone, you know? And I’m your friend - your best friend. You should be able to come to me for help… knowing this kinda thing isn’t going to scare me away, or hurt me.”

Error sighed, shivering. He really should have brought his hoodie. “I’m sorry. I was scared of how you’d react. Before all this happened, dad said some crap about it and… yeah.”

“Just… talk to me next time, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Now!” Ink stood suddenly. “Let’s head home. You can stay with mom and me tonight, because there’s no way you’re going ‘home’ after all this!”

Error chuckled, standing up as well, albeit a bit slower. “Thanks… is Winter going to ask about...uh.”

“She’s going to want to know you’re ok, but mom won’t push you to share what you told me. Don’t worry. Oh! And give me the keys.” He outstretched his hand. “I’m driving.”

Error snorted, pulling said keys out of his pocket and tossing them to his friend. As they walked back down the hill, the tall monster suddenly reached out and took Ink’s small hand into his larger one. Ink nearly tripped from surprise, his face becoming hot.

“Thanks again Ink… it… you mean a lot to me.”

Ink smiled, squeezing his friend’s hand gently. “Anytime, Glitchy.”

[positivlyfocused]

How I Get What I Want Easily

The best happiness is conjured. It's how I get things easily. Getting what I want should be easy. That's the way life can be for everyone. For me it is.

It hasn’t always been easy.  I had to learn how reality happens before getting what I want came easily. I appreciate what I learned. So I'm sharing it.

In the old days I didn’t know all this. By "old days" I mean a few years ago. 😀

Back then, I got a lot of what I wanted and some of what I didn't. I got that the same way you likely do. Random!

I became pretty successful, but it was hard work, struggle, sacrifice.

Instead of talking about the old days, I want to talk about today's days. But I guess I can't without referring a little bit to the old days for context. 🤷🏽‍♂️

How Do Things Happen?

First, let me clarify something: Getting what I want means creating reality.

Many people scoff when "new agers" talk about "creating reality" and "manifesting". Here's the thing about that.

A lot of what I want is “real”. Physical events, physical things and, yes, some intangible things too. Like peace of mind. And understanding how life works.

But everything I want, including intangible stuff, must happen in the physical world. I call that “reality”. You probably call it that too.

So getting what I want means experiencing realities different from what I have. New realities that include in them what I want. Somehow, those realities must come about.

How do they come? Aren't they being created? If so, who or what creates them?

I explored these questions some time ago. I'm glad I got super-clear answers.

So when I talk about getting what I want, I'm talking about creating new realities. Realities that weren't realities before. I'm at the center of "how". And I'm getting better proving to myself how that "how" works.

Fig. 1 below shows how I used to create reality. I call it "The Haphazard Way". Here's how that process worked for me. Maybe it works for you this way.

^^Illustration by the author

Reality Needs A Perceiver And It Shapes That Which Perceives

Reality doesn’t exist if there is no perceiver. So reality needs a perceiver for it to “be”. Any consciousness capable of perception will do. In Fig. 1, I'm using me as the perceiver. But it could as well be a dog, bird, cockroach or single-celled organism.

In The Haphazard Way, as perceiver, I look at the world (Step 1 in Fig. 1) and see what's happening. From that, I choose what I want.

For example, when I was young, I realized having money was a good thing. In high school, I looked at professions where my talents (love of writing, art, etc) would pay most. Then I planned my life to match that trajectory.

So far so good.

But while spending so much time looking at the world, I also couldn't help see how other people got what I wanted. Sounds normal, right? You set a goal, then look at others' success as a model for yours.

The problem is, I’m not here to copy what others did. I thought I was. And I succeeded at that for a while. It wasn't fulfilling though.

^^Illustration by the author

I’m a creator. I’m here to do it my way. A fresh way. You are a creator too. You're not here to copy others.

Besides, the majority of humans (like 99.999 percent) create what they want haphazardly (Fig. 1). That works. But it's not easy. That’s why so many people describe getting what they want as “working your ass off," "sacrificing", "paying your dues", etc. Then they feel proud about that.

Why would I want to copy that? If they knew what I now know, I don't think they'd feel proud.

But it's what they know. So I don't blame them. Instead I say "more power to you!" Because they're going to need it.

In their reality (FIg. 1), working your ass off (or who you know, or having money, or paying your dues or whatever) is necessary. It's necessary because they’ve looked at how others have done it. And they are copying that.

I was doing the same. Here's why I don't do that now.

Living Other People's Experience By Default

When I copied another’s way, I also accepted their beliefs about reality. Everybody's doing that. Which is why we have the world we have, where pretty much everyone thinks the same way about reality. I thought that way too.

Back to Fig. 1: Looking at the world (Step 1) formed beliefs within me consistent with what I was looking at (Step 2). Including other people's beliefs. If I believed as everyone else, my actions would match everyone else (Step 3). Not my original, pure inspirations.

^^Illustration by the author

Beliefs dictate actions in The Haphazard Way

My actions reflected what I believed. Next I'd look at results my actions created (Step 4) to check (Step 5) if they matched my expectations. “Expectations” is another word for "beliefs about the future". Based on beliefs I got from others, I formed beliefs about the future containing what my acts should produce.

Make sense so far?

Here's the problem. My adopted beliefs included ways to get what I want. But they also included negative beliefs about the world. About me too.

A major negative belief about the world, which I adopted from others was "there's only so much to go around". Another: "I'm in competition for those limited things, whether it's money, women, cars, etc.” Another: “money doesn’t grow on trees” meaning: it’s scarce.

These are beliefs new agers call "scarcity consciousness". They make an unlimited thing limited.

My beliefs also included other people's beliefs about people like me. For example, I had a lot of negative beliefs about being African American and queer. These negative beliefs shaped my self-worth, self-respect and, most important, what I thought was possible.

Maybe you have these too. Where do these come from? I got them looking at the world. I listened to what my parents' said about the world and believed them. I watched their personal experiences, then formed beliefs from that. I got beliefs from my personal experience. I shaped beliefs listening to TV and radio. I got beliefs from reading stuff.

In other words, I got my beliefs from looking at the world around me (Step 1).

How about you? Where do your beliefs come from? Have you thought about that? Some people I talk with are open enough to say they get their beliefs the same way I did. "I was raised to believe..." is how it usually starts.

Maybe you were "raised to believe..." a certain way too...

Back to Fig. 1.

^^Illustration by the author

So when I checked my progress (or lack thereof), I would make up stories reflecting my messed up (inaccurate) beliefs. "This happened because I was black" or, "I can't do that right" or, "I wish I could do it like that guy", or "I need money to do that and I don't have money so..."

The thing is, the world I saw matched beliefs I had. It's tricky to sort out beliefs I hold from the world I see. They are so intertwined. In reality, they are one. They both reflect each to the other. I know that now.

^^Illustration by the author

So no matter what happened from my actions, I interpreted them according to my beliefs. I still do that. That can't be helped. Life will always reflect my beliefs.

But today, I have a whole new set of beliefs. They come from a new way of creating reality.

What's interesting is, I wouldn't have my new way, were it not for the old way. 

Life will not differ from how I believe. "Life" is the cycle illustrated in Fig. 1 and 2. Both cycles repeat themselves over and over. Beliefs become automatic. Acts born of beliefs recede into the background. What’s left are results and interpretations.

If I want any part of my reality different, I must change my beliefs. To change beliefs, I must know how they happen. Then use that process differently.

That's where Fig. 2 comes in.

^^Illustration by the author

The World Turns From One Thing I See To The Next

I questioned early on why things happened the way they did. So The Haphazard Way helped me. It's not wrong. I think it serves this exact purpose.

I'm not the only person who knows about this. More are learning it all the time. Here's how it works:

First, I look at the world (Step 1). But I don't accept that world as factual. Instead I look at what is and use it to decide not only what I want, but how I would like it to happen.

I don't think about the specifics of how it could happen. I only think about how it would feel to have what I want (Step 1).

Once I figure that out, I choose beliefs (Step 2) consistent with what I want.  I just make up beliefs. The more original the better. The beliefs boost the feelings.

Next I hold the feelings the beliefs have boosted. I keep feeling the feelings. I pay as little attention as I can to current reality. Including the fact that it doesn't contain what I want. I don't think about what I want either. I only feel how it feels having what I want.

I'm not always successful. But you'd be surprised how little success is needed for this to work.

If/when I'm successful with Fig. 2 Step 2, the universe and the larger part that is me gives feedback, suggestions and impulses about acts to take (Step 3). I try never to act unless I get inspiration. This is important.

Sometimes it takes a long time before I get inspiration. Just ask my wife! 😜

Other times, inspiration comes immediately.

Sometimes I have to sort out where the inspiration is coming from. Old beliefs sometimes draw ideas to me. They sound like "you should be doing...."

The right inspiration doesn't sound that way.

When right inspiration does come, I try to act immediately (Step 4). Next, I do my best to not look for evidence my acts create. I don't check. Instead, I use observing the world as fuel. Fuel for more manufactured beliefs. Beliefs consistent with the reality I am creating, rather than the one I'm looking at.

My Inner Being has written in this blog about some results this process produced. It's going to continue doing that. So many things are happening all the time.

Life has changed for me since using this process. Most important, I'm finding myself happier. Not because I'm getting more of what I want easier, which I am. But because when I'm spending most of my time focusing on positive beliefs, how can that not become a habit? And how can a positive focus turned habitual not produce a reality consistent with that? And how can that not create a happy life?

That’s conjured happiness.

In the end, I want what I want because I think I'll be happier getting that. When I'm positively focused, I'm already happy. That's the best place from which to have what I want show up. It takes out the yearning that happens when I seek happiness in getting things.

The best happiness is conjured happiness. I know that now. And thank goodness that I do because it makes getting things easy.

[hussyknee]

The Arrow season finale was actually fucking amazing. I did not expect that. Usually can't even think of Error without wanting to scream and take all my anti-depressants. People who are definitely dead: - Talia - Evelyn - Digger Harkness People who are might be dead: - Samantha? - Nyssa - Dinah - Curtis People who are definitely alive: - Felicity - Diggle - Quentin - Rene - Thea - Slade - Black Siren - fucking Malcolm Merlyn (cos we would only be so lucky, the cockroach) Excellent cliffhanger for S6. Hopefully we get less villain Sues with a personal vendetta, more female bonding, less fridging of women, PoC and queer folks, very little forced romantic sub plots (please keep the Olicity at just this amount of slow burn and dont let Ollie hook up with any more women please for the love of God. His dick is the plot equivalent of a fatal STD at this point) a little more Dad!Ollie and some indication that Rory and Roy were ever on this show. I might actually go back to watching this show if these things happen. Because I'm a ridiculously sanguine, self-punishing, gullible asshat like that. EDIT: Goddamn, Stephen Amell acted his ass off this episode. Why can't he just keep doing that consistently? EDIT 2: Moira, you were such an amazing character why did we have to lose you?? 😢 I cried during that last flashback you guys. EDIT 3: Can Merlyn just stay dead please what does it take to curbstomp this douchebucket why do the writers keeps trying to make this irreddeembale genocidal megalomaniac a sympathetic character??