#needs to get free

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Changes

Words: 4030

Summary: Steve Harrington has always dreamt about running away from Hawkins and his parents. Ever sense he could form his own thoughts, he has always wanted to travel the world in a beat up van with those he loved. Yet obvious circumstances stop him from leaving. Instead of being on a beach somewhere he is stuck in Hawkins, Indiana waiting for the world to end at any time. He loves all of his friends, but he has been missing a piece of himself for a long time. After taking the first steps of self discovery and putting down the crown, he realizes that he’s barely touched the surface of who Steve Harrington really is. Even if it means running away from home last minute, taking chances and using the flimsy excuse of a family emergency to get away from his friends for a while, he’s willing to do what it takes to make himself feel whole again. Make those thoughts finally disappear and maybe be more then what others has set his image to be.

Part : 1/?

Ao3 link

Note: I have the next few chapters planned out, but I don’t think this will be a terribly long fic. Five chapters is most likely max. But who knows I might like writing this so much that I add a few more. I just didn’t want to rush the process and not have Steve returning to Hawkins different hit the way I wanted it 😭

Steve runs a hand through his hair, water droplets falling down his forehead and down his nose. Watching each one move down his freckles through the reflection of the mirror. It wasn't uncommon for Steve to sleep in, honestly it was very common for him to sleep until nine am at the latest. Lately though, his body has been craving for a lot more sleep then what he can offer it. Flapping his hands a bit, spraying water around the small little bathroom of the diner moves himself out of the cramped space. Giving a tight smile to a older male that pushes his way through before he's heading back to his table. Moving, wiping his hands off his pants a little, fidgeting a bit before he plops himself into his designated spot next to Robin. Who was currently rambling about something, hands flying in the air as she leaned forward at the table in a chaotic manner. Matching Eddie, who was nearly standing on the opposite side of the booth from excitement. Steve isn't sure what part of the conversation he catches them in as his brain goes foggy again. The splash of cold water not grounding him into reality like normal. The feeling was annoying, and instead of catching either of his friends attentions he moves to start eating his food. Zoned out a bit as he planned out his day in a way that he could get a nap in. Maybe he was coming down with something?

For the last couple of months? Yeah no fucking way dude. There was something wrong with him and he wasn't sure what. Though he was physically good in health, maybe cutting back the amount of time going to gym was making him feel so ill. But that also didn't make any sense, he still felt the same icky feeling going to the gym, one of the reasons why he stopped going more then twice a week. He's chewing carefully on a strawberry when Robin playfully shoved him with a soft smile. Not showing concern, but looking curiously at him. Steve furrows his eyebrows as he swallows the fruit in his mouth. Letting a soft hum out, "Hm?" Licking his lips shortly after as he turns his head to glance over at Eddie who's properly kneeling on the booth seat, head cocked to the side a little bit. Trying to read him almost.

"Do you want the rest of my pancakes?" She asks gently. A common ritual between the two friends. Her eyes would be bigger then her stomach which left Steve swooping in and finishing what was left. He needed the calories anyway, constantly burning a decent amount on his morning jogs and in the gym. Though with the cut back of exercise he wasn't feeling all that hungry. That was the excuse he came up with as he shakes his head no, carefully licking some whip cream off from the top of his mouth.

"Nah, I'm find Robs." He responds with a hum. Watching the way she stops mid movement, holding the plate in her hand as if she was already on her way in moving it to put on Steve's. He chuckles gently, raising his eyebrow at how awkward she looks. Startled as well as she jokingly moves a hand forward and touches Steve's forward with the back of her palm.

"You feeling okay Dingus?" She asks softly. Not holding the plate for much longer as Eddie moves quickly scooping it from her hand. She doesn't bother looking over at the table, where Eddie was currently shoveling the food in as if he hadn't eaten a hamburger, a full plate of fries, and a strawberry milkshake with chocolate syrup mixed in a little bit. Steve had thought once the other wasn't on the run any more he would stop shoveling food into his face so fast that he nearly hit some of his fingers off. That, did not seem to be the case.

"Yeah, just started cutting back on how much I go to the gym." He admits, "so I'm not as hungry." He says softly. Watching Robin relax, the softness in her eyes grounding him better then the water in the bathroom. Her eyes crinkling a bit as she playfully pokes him lightly in the stomach.

"See, I told you so. Lady's dig the dad bods dude." She teases playfully. Causing Steve to laugh gently, shaking his head amused as Eddie starts to choke on a piece of fruit. Coughing a bit as he pulls back from hovering over the plate, any closer and his nose would have been touching the glass.

The day goes the same, for the most part. Steve drives to his shift at Family Video, sharing it with Robin like normal. Watches the neighborhood kids come in and leave after inspecting the shelf that held a , "new movies" sign above it with a life sized cut out of David Hasselhoff leaning against kit the talking car. It was a couple of years old, but it worked fine with getting the younger boys excited about the car. More desirable then having to move a life sized cut out of a girl in a bikini away from a drooler. He's fiddling a random rhythm on the counter as he tries figuring out what he has to do. Feeling a tad forgetful lately he frowns as he moves crouching down as he picks up a lollipop stick off the rug. Probably Robins wrong doing, scrunching his nose from disgust as he moves it likes it's the plague, to a trash can. Hearing the bell of the front door going off, following along with a very pissed off Dustin. Steve's lost as he swings himself over with the rolling chair.

"This is such bullshit Steve!"  Spit goes flying everywhere as Dustin has no control over his lisp. Voice Loud enough that it echos through the store catching Robins attention. Who had been opening new boxes of tapes. Behind Dustin is Max who looks agitated, Will Byers who looks confused and wants nothing to do with this conflict along with Mike Wheeler who's face is a light pink and looks like he's done something. What, Steve isn't sure. If they didn't all look like they were in one of the most serious situations in their life's Steve may have snorted and cracked a small comment to Dustin about "saying it not spraying it."  However the saying went.

"What is Henderson?" Steve asks slowly. Furrowing his eyebrows tiredly as he tries to catch onto what the other was talking about. He hadn't forgotten anything had he. But even if he had Dustin would not be this pissed. Mistakes happened, and most times Dustin made sure to ride his bike everywhere.

"You're parents!" Dustin spits out again. Steve's lost again, he hasn't heard anything from his Mother and Father in a couple of weeks. Doing god knows what in god knows where.

"What about my parents?" He asks confused. Moving his arms a bit as he looks concerned as well.

"Hellfire Club, or any club that doesn't fit a Christian like bubble can not and will not be allowed at Hawkins high because someone's parents refuse to donate money to the school if it's not a preppy Christian love nest!" Dustin says upset. And oh, that makes sense.

"But- I thought hellfire was banned already?" He asks confused.

"It was! But you don't understand, the only clubs that are allowed are all sport oriented." Dustin snaps.

"Ok—" Steve drawls out. "You can't create you're own—" before he can finish Dustin's snapping again.

"This is bullshit! Of course you would side with your parents, and here I thought you were on my side!" Dustin in clearly upset as he slams his hand on the counter. Normally Steve would be able to handle a out break like this, he understood he used to be a moody teenage boy himself. For the most part Dustin wasn't all the angry. He stands up startled, eyes glancing over at Max who says softly. Almost as if she was shy, moving her body around as she keeps her arms crossed around her self.

"They cut robotics club-" and oh. That made sense why Dustin was so pissed. He had been so close to creating a device where no matter how far away you were, it would use some form of connection to connect to another device. The purpose was to be able to tap on it, like Morse code almost. Which he somehow knew, along with his girlfriend Susie who would definitely appreciate the more private way of communicating instead of having a sibling eavesdropping. Though knowing this Steve was also a bit upset.

"Too far Henderson-" he says calmly, trying to get rid of the agitated part of his tone. Watching the way Henderson's shoulders deflate under the words. Meeting his eyes a bit. That mutual agreement they had months ago coming through, not once has Steve ever had to say to far to Dustin about something. Normally it was Steve who took the jokes to far sometime. Used to tough jocks his age who made fun of stuff like that, not a small teen boy who was obviously going to have some insecurities. "First off, I don't agree with my parents. Honestly, I didn't even know they were doing that. Haven't spoken to them in weeks, with the 'earth quakes' my phone line has been down, and I just got it fixed a few days ago. Plus, it’s not like my parents ask me for permission to do anything before they do it!" he rambles out. Most days he doesn’t even touch his phone, it was always through the radio that he contacted the group by.

"Second, I am sorry about your club. I'm sure that you brainiacs will figure out a way to steal the parts back and finish it up by yourselves. You've got a lot of it done. Third, no I am not on your side dude. I'm on all of your guys. Which includes the others not just you Henderson." Steve says waving his right hand loosely, leaving the other on his hip. Cocking said hip off to the side a little bit, his nose flaring a little as he hears Robin moving around in the back. His head was starting to kill him from all of the commotion, as he moves forward grumbling under his breathe as he pulls a ibuprofen out. Popping it in his mouth before swallowing and then sassily waving his hands for the kids to get out.

"Now scadadle. Start coming up with ideas for your own clubs, I'm sure you can create your own. Don't need money to just hang out with each other. Plus, I expect you to figure out a way in stealing what you started to  create Henderson." Steve says with a playful huff. Dustin his moving back a little as he nods his head eagerly. Much more calmer then what he been earlier. Now he looked like he had a part of a plan formed in his head as he playfully bounces up and down walking backwards out of the store with the other goons following shortly behind as their voices start to mix and go over each other as ideas started to form.

"You okay Steve?" Robin asks curiously. Moving over to him, slightly hovering over him as he sits down on the chair. He looks up with a soft smile, feeling her hand laying on his shoulder where his neck met his shoulder. He moves his own hand placing it on top of her tinier in a comforting manner. As if he wasn't the one who needed it.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiles dimly, watching his friend relax before patting his shoulder absent mindlessly then walking away to go finish what she had started.

Thing is, Steve has always randomly gotten the urge to pack up and leave. Leave everything behind, start over, become someone new - someone that wasn't Steve Harrington. Son of two rich assholes who didn't have any real touch to reality. Become something more, be something more then the image his parents have created, no spray painted all over this town. Of course he's used to it but the thoughts are particularly hard to shut up tonight.

Has Steve really not changed at all?

Is he still like his parents?

What if everyone around him was better off without him?

Now, the last thought was a bit shocking. Steve wasn't suicidal, he just wanted to curl up somewhere and disappear for a while. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to be living in a sense. He was exhausted, feeling his bones ache to just lay in bed for a while. Though he was tired, he couldn't fall asleep. It was the most annoying thing he's ever felt. He rubs a hand through his hair, runs a hand down his face. Sitting up when the reality of the situation hits him. He can start over, he can leave Hawkins behind, he can go off and start off fresh. The excitement fills every part of his body as he throws himself out of his bed, looking around the room as he realizes he can make his own room. Have something that was his own, just as long as he got out of this town. Just as fast as he makes the decision to leave, he is quick to shut it down. Running a hand through his hair. Stressed out by the thought of even leaving Robin and the kids behind.

Deflated of all hope he moves curling back into his bed. Deciding he would much rather live in misery, then conflict any hurt feelings on his friends. His rambling thoughts are non stop as he stays curled up, now on top of the comforter. Feeling the sun beaming through his window as he turns on his shoulder getting more excited about getting up and seeing Robin. Though slightly agitated that he had just spent the last eight hours laying in bed doing nothing. Hopping off the bed he moves, pulling his sweats off, then his shirt before scratching at the slight happy trail he had that connected to even more hair hidden behind his boxers. Moving his body at weird angles as he starts to get changed, tracing his v-line as he looks at the mirror. Slight scaring placed underneath his finger tips before he pushes himself out of his room, heading to the diner to meet Robin and Eddie for breakfast.

And today feels like yesterday, then feel the same as tomorrow. As he sat down next to Robin he felt like everything was moving around him so fast. Robin and Eddie’s voices drowning out in the back of his head. Eyes glossed over with exhaustion as he looks around the diner. Eyes stopping at the newspaper that had been pinned up on a board near the kitchen. Swallowing a bite of food he leaves his eyes trained there. Looking at the image of a town further away, that seemed to somehow be smaller then Hawkins. That seemed nice, Hawkins was pretty big for a rural town. In his head Steve realizes he’s daydreaming about leaving. About just disappearing, imagining everyone’s reactions. Knowing that not many people would care. Most likely only Robin and Dustin would be the only ones to notice his absence.

The slight shove against his side and his attention is back on Robin who’s not asking this time as she forces the last of her pancakes on his plate. Leaving a bit more for him then what she normally would, as if she was trying to make up for the day before. Steve smiles tiredly as he starts to eat. Staying silent as he glances over at Eddie. Who was a little disheveled this morning. Hair a mess, bags under his eyes as he rambles his thoughts out as well. Robin seemed a bit more tired then normal as well. “What’s got you two so tired?” He teases. Knowing his excuse, but it was rare for Robin and Eddie to have sleepless nights on the same night. It was more common for one to come in like a zombie and the other to be beaming until their roles were reversed. Steve would be the consistent one, always getting enough sleep. On occasion though he had his moments, like today.

“Oh, Eddie decided he wanted to throw a long ass session yesterday. Argyle, Jonathan, and I were all up until three am dealing with his bullshit.” Robin laughs gently. Steve looks amused, though his chest ached. Logically he knows he wouldn’t have been playing with them, but it still stung that he hadn’t been there when they were playing. He wouldn’t mind watching. And typically before every session he was invited to join anyway, to watch which he gladly accepted. Though there is no comment said about him not being invited, as if it was just common knowledge that he wasn’t accepted in the group.

“Oh?” He chuckles gently, running a hand through his hair as he lets the topic die. Letting Eddie take over, talking about some movie that was coming out. His brain wandering, not finishing his food as he steps out of the booth when it’s finally time to leave. Normally the minutes went by super fast, and he didn’t want to go. Today, he was bored out of his mind and couldn’t wait to head back home. Not having a shift today, maybe he could get a quick nap in. Waving at Robin, who would catch a ride with Eddie who would be passing the family video on his way home. Steve moves clicking himself in the car and rubs his eyes. He’s on a loose thread, and he felt like something was coming. Something that was just going to cut it in half and force him to have to do something he had no plans on doing.

And it does. When he gets a phone call from Keith, the store manager. Who’s trying to get him to come in on his day off. Wanting him to cover a shift, that someone else could easily cover. Steve was close to passing out, there was no way he was able to get behind the drivers wheel and drive like this. “Keith! Can you - dude I can’t come in right now!” He snaps. Running a hand down his face. This was really going to be his last straw. Something so small yet so big. The urge to run away was getting stronger, to escape from the real world. His exhaustion running deeper then just physically but also mentally. Before he can even think about what he was saying he spits it out. “Fuck dude! You know what, I quite. Don’t even bother calling me again, my uniforms already in my locker so I don’t even need to drop it off.” Steve snaps. Slamming the phone into its holder.

It felt amazing, the slight relief of not having something tying him down. The feeling was addictive as he sets his back against the wall. Sliding down dramatically as he feels tears forming in his eyes. Then the relief is gone and he’s overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with everything. Soon, he knows Robin will be calling him. Probably chewing him out about quitting the only stable job there was in Hawkins. His mind was making everything seem bigger then what it really was, anxiety eating away at his stomach as he tilts his head back. He felt like he was drowning, though just a few days ago he had been perfectly afloat. Fine really. Then something happened and he was being pulled down. Shuddering at the thought of a hand wrapping itself around his ankle and yanking him down he throws himself off from the cold floor. Rushing to go to his room.

Logic was gone, he needed to leave. Before this town dragged him down any further. Duffel bag on his bag, his movements and decisions are erratic and stupid. Any person staring and watching from a third persons view could see that. God even Steve could see that, but his brain was so wrapped around the feeling of being buried alive that he doesn’t even care. He wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t calm either. Pulling what he needed out, this was all last minute and he knew that the second he left Hawkins he would be stuck in shitty hotels and sleeping in his car for awhile. Though that sounded more exciting that sleeping in this empty house.

Moving to his closet next he pulls out what he needs, leaving everything else as is. There wasn’t much he needed here. Grabbing his walkie, hoping that where he went would be able to catch the station the kids were on. Moving to the bathroom packing soaps and his toothbrush. Careful not to let any of it explode in the bag. Moving out to his car tossing it in the trunk, before he’s moving back in grabbing any food that wouldn’t expire any time soon and didn’t need to be refrigerated. Though he was panicked, he was clear minded enough to think about cleaning the fridge out. Not much in there anyway. Running a hand through his hair he grabs his keys and takes one final look at the house. He could back out now. But that made him more upset then the thought of leaving Robin and everyone behind. Of course he left a small note, where he knew Robbie would find it. Though he’s sure that he would call when he got to a gas station. Coming up with an excuse about a family emergency.

Moving out side he realizes the thought of never returning to this ugly house didn’t phase him as much as he thought it would. Growing up he was convinced that he would be crying when he drove away from it for the last time. Instead none of those emotions were there. Instead his hands shook as he gripped onto the steering wheel. Looking forward, and not behind him as he pulls out. He shouldn’t be driving, with the lack of sleep he really shouldn’t. Though he needed to hold onto the walkie. Moving and grabbing it from the other seat he presses it hard on his right thigh. Letting the windows down, wind wipping his hair all over. He’s sure that this stunt would only last him a couple of weeks, he would be back in no time.

As the sun comes up, he slips his glasses on. Beaming excitedly as he turns the radio on. Letting whatever station that had been on last play. Heading off to god only knows where, with only what he got, a wallet with all of the money he’s saved up over the past couple of months and a bank account filled with hush money that has been yet to be touched. There was nothing but looking up from here. Letting the road take him where ever it wanted to, hours away from Hawkins. And when it was time for him to meet Robin and Eddie at the diner for their daily breakfast, he’s tempted to turn back. Hearing the panic in Robins voice through the speaker. Reminding himself that he would call later, he turns the thing off. Throwing it to the seat, hearing it thud to the car floor. Nothing but the woods and dirt roads surrounding him now as he finally fulfills his dream of running away.

With the time he had, he knew he was being stupid. Stupid got you killed. But kids his age were allowed to be stupid, so why wasn’t he allowed to be stupid. It wasn’t fair. He sighs as he sees a huge sign that read open. Moving and parking in the driveway, feeling and hearing his tires crunch against the rocks as he heads to eat in a entirely new diner, all by himself and alone for the first time in months.

And god, did it feel good.

Tag list; @whalesharksart @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @justforthedead89 @kengwisi @anzelsilver @miss-wright

*note if you wanted to be added to tag list let me know, though again I don’t plan on this being more then a few parts and no more then 20-30k words because I’m also working on a bang fic lol*

[yourdadsghoulfriend]

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend’s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[stil-lindigo]

For all my Australian followers!!!

El-Rahman is an organisation of volunteers currently helping to re-settle Palestinian refugees who recently arrived in Naarm/Melbourne. If you’d like to tangibly help improve Palestinian lives right now, they take monetary donations and have multiple drop off sites for supplies.

If you follow their Instagram, they will regularly update with what supplies are urgently needed, which range from furniture, to clothes, to sanitary pads.

Can't emphasise enough how important it is for people coming out of a warzone that their needs are taken care of. We should all strive to give a semblance of normalcy to these families who are traumatised and still going through immense suffering.

[mokeonn]

"But if college was free, then people would abuse that and get useless degrees" hell yeah I would! If I could go to college without debt I would make it my job to get a degree in every little thing that interested me. I'd get a doctorate in film studies. I'd have a bachelor's degree for every science I like. I'd try to learn at least 5 languages with varying results. I would learn something "useful" like coding and then follow it up with a ""useless"" degree like art history. I'd be the world record speed run holder for getting every degree possible.

But I can't afford college without going into massive debt, so instead I spent the last 5 years trying to figure out what I am passionate enough about to consider going into debt over, because unfortunately being passionate about everything is extremely expensive to pursue.

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

The thing that is striking me the most about this album is just how messy and human it is. She’s not holding anything back or trying to appear one way or another. She’s just letting it all out regardless of what anyone might say. She found that trying to be polished and keep all the ugly, imperfect, human stuff in to be stifling and just said fuck it I need to do this for me. This album was an exorcism for her.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[heartorbit]

searching for a star that's still unknown to anyone!

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[undertalethingems]

Unexpected Guests Chapter Ten, Act Two: Page 20

First / Previous / Next

I sure hope no one's tired of Undyne being awesome. Because well. She is very much not done with being awesome.

Look for the next update on Aug. 29th!

[almondpiglet]

was doodlin today… the new train attendent collab art goes hard

[heavenbarnes]

when do we talk about art fucking you on his n tashi's private tennis court because he has no decorum and needs your little tennis sneakers bouncing by his head stat.

right neeeeeeoooow OH MY GOD-

he gets you down onto the court with the premise of needing you to serve to him so he can practice but it doesn’t last long

not when you end up on your back with your skirt flipped up and his hips literally pounding you

sounds of tennis balls bouncing replaced with the slap of his balls against your ass

sounds of his grunts after serves replaced with his grunts as he pulls your hips back onto his cock

your tennis shoes are up round his ears as he grips one of your calves draped over his shoulder, pressing his lips all the way up to your ankle

your pathetic little whimpers and moans seem to be reverberating as art’s lost in you- running his mouth about how good this “pretty little cunt feels wrapped around me- oooh just like that my baby- take me just like that”

you cum flat on your back on the tennis court with art literally filling you with a thick load he’d been saving up for you since your last “lesson”

the neighbours probably heard- not that you care

not when you know tashi heard (and saw) from her spot above the court

all you care about is whether she thinks you did a good job

[baph0meat]

this is the Gaza Family Funds Directory, a spreadsheet of palestinian families' gofundmes, sorted by the amount of support they've received thus far. please choose as many as you can from this list to donate to, even just a dollar.

in addition, the sheet also contains a link to a gdrive folder with designs for flyers/stickers that you can print out and place in your community. if you truly can't spare anything directly now, please consider doing this so you can get these links in front of people who can donate!

it also remains urgent to keep the people of palestine connected in the face of communication blackouts; please contribute esims! it is very easy to do and is fully explained on this page: https://gazaesims.com/

if you cannot afford the price of an esim individually, there's a campaign currently running on twitter to which you can contribute whatever you can afford ($1, $3, whatever) to a larger pool which will then be used to buy esims collectively. there's also the crips for esims for gaza fundraiser, which operates similarly. there are probably more than this! i chose these two for this post bc they are currently active + both have easily vettable proof of donation (screencaps in the qrts of the twitter campaign, financial accountability document in the crips for esims campaign.)

finally, look into local grassroots organizations in your area so you can stay in the loop on protest activity. many such orgs have accounts on instagram. if you are in the us, looking for local chapters of the PSL, the palestinian youth movement, or national students for justice in palestine can be a good start.

please, please, please: pick something here and do it. i know it can feel overwhelming and there may be an urge to tell yourself that you'll reblog this now and get around to it later. instead please choose one thing. even if it's just finding orgs in your area and following them so you'll be notified the next time there's a protest. even if it's just downloading the flyer designs and looking up a print shop where you can run off a stack of copies. make a decision to do something tangible right now, even if it's just a first step.

[slavhew]

two guys enter a closet