#this kid has been through enough

[localdiscountgoth]

marine biologist percy jackson this and that. I propose trophy husband percy jackson with annabeth as the bread winner

[marypsue]

So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."

I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.

Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.

And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.

The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.

(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)

[butterflyscribbles]

Creator🐍✨

[silverglimse-productions]

Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone nice. Please let it be someone ni

[rbtlvr]

(text from this post, fic is little kid with a big death wish by @remedyturtles)

i'm genuinely not sure where to start here - ig first of all this fic is absolutely incredible and if you somehow haven't read it yet you absolutely should!

okay. man. rem, this fic means so so much to me and i'm so glad i got to be here for it. i think this is one of those fics that'll stick with me years down the line even if one day i'm not into tmnt anymore, one i'll come back to over and over again

your writing has touched so so many people myself very much included, and i just. want to thank you so much for writing this fic and thank you for sharing it. you're an amazing writer and an amazing person and i'm lucky to know you. i can't wait to see what you do next

[canisalbus]

To me, Machete kind of has the energy of a secondary villain/coldhearted side character in someone else's story that a lot of fans latch onto, moreso than the protagonist. Question is, would he be the villain in anyone's story?

Why, thank you! I'm actually glad to hear he gives off that vibe. I don't think he set out to become a villain but a lot of people certainly view him as one.

[artiststarme]

The Gift of Not Dying Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

It's been awhile but hopefully this will get me back in the groove of things. I hope you like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~ Steve watched as the dazzling smile on Eddie’s face dropped to reveal absolute, unadulterated horror. He clearly wasn’t expecting his best friend/tomorrow’s date/future boyfriend to show up at fuck past two in the morning with a bruised face and blood covered sailor’s uniform. Steve could only imagine how he would respond if Eddie had shown up to Hopper's cabin looking like death the way Steve must right now.

“Oh my god, Steve?! What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Eddie ushered him into the trailer and gently pushed him to a seat on the couch. 

Steve didn't know how to respond to him. On the one hand, he didn't want Eddie to worry. On the other hand, nothing would ever be alright again. Hop was dead, his body still stuck in the Russian base under Starcourt where he himself had died multiple times. Steve could feel the throbbing of his broken heart's beats pulsating in his face still. He definitely had a concussion if the double vision and underwater hearing were indicative of anything. Worst of all, it was all Steve's fault. This entire situation never would have happened had he not tempted the universe. He was too happy, he knew everything would fall into catastrophe eventually and he hadn't warned anyone.

So instead of answering his best friend, he pulled at Eddie's shoulders until the man got the message and wrapped him in a warm embrace that smelled of Honeybunches, motor oil, and marijuana. All of Steve's favorite smells that usually calmed him down. But not this time.

He sobbed into Eddie's chest, tears and blood mixing together on his face and soaking into the thin black fabric of Eddie's shirt. Steve just couldn't stop. He cried for the pain he'd gone through in the Russian base and the incessant battery he'd endured at the hands of sadists. He cried for the loss of Robin's normal life and the fact that she would probably hate him now since he'd dragged her into the absolute shit-show that was his life. Most of all though, he cried for Hopper. He cried for his dad that adopted him into his little family and gave him a little sister, the dad that dropped everything to help Steve whenever he needed it.

Poor Eddie just hugged him through it all. He didn't know why Steve had woken him up from a dead sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning only to unveil a face more recognizable as ground beef. He didn't know who had beaten him up or why Hopper wasn't behind him in his truck ready to drag him back to the overprotected cabin in the woods. He didn't need to understand because his best friend was in need of help and a good hug which Eddie could provide.

After what felt like hours of crying, Steve rasped, “Eds, Hop is gone. He died tonight.”

Eddie’s hands stopped their soothing circles on his back and he pulled back to look him in the eyes. There was no joking there, just complete and utter dread and hopelessness in the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

“Chief Hopper died tonight? Are you okay, where are you going to go?” He backtracked for a moment and pulled Steve’s battered body to his gently once more. “I’m sorry for your loss, man. I know the Chief was like a father to you. What’s going to happen now?”

Steve wanted to cry, to scream at the world for being so unfair as to take one of the only people that had ever cared for him. But his eyes were dry and his heart was bone tired after such an arduous night. So instead of sobbing some more or breaking down, Steve shrugged. “I’m going to have to go back to my parent’s house. I can’t stay in Hop’s cabin without him there. And El is going to live with Mrs. Byers. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Eddie shook his head and placed a weary hand on Steve's face. He wanted to give him comfort but with all the blood and bruises on his face, he didn't know where to touch without causing more pain. “You can stay here. Wayne won’t mind as long as we don’t mess with his mug or cap collections. He’s got a habit for taking in strays. Hell, just look at me. You’ll always have a place here.”

Steve couldn’t move in though. Everywhere he went, misfortune followed. He was like a plague, sucking the life out of everything he touched. It started with his parents and he sucked the joy right out of their lives leaving nothing but bitterness and sorrow, certainly not enough love for the disappointment he became. It broke Nancy by killing her best friend and tainting their relationship. Steve should’ve kept his distance from Hop and El but his selfishness won out in the end. And now Hopper was gone. Steve’s plague had struck once again and had stolen his happiness with it. He couldn’t do that to Eddie and Wayne, they’d been through far too much already. They didn’t deserve to deal with him on top of it all. 

“Thanks but I don’t want you guys to get sick of me. I’ll just stay at my parent’s house and crash here when they come home. If that’s okay with you and Wayne.”

Eddie shook his head before entwining his fingers with Steve’s. “Of course it is. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, let’s deal with your face. Did you go to the hospital? I can literally see the bruises swelling in front of my eyes. There’s no way you don’t have a concussion right now, why would they let you drive like this?”

“They didn’t, I walked,” Steve corrected distractedly. His mind was reeling over grief and pain, too distracted to abide by the story he was supposed to use. 

“Walked from where?”

“Starcourt,” his mouth just kept talking despite his eyes seeing the alarm on Eddie’s face. “The Russians stole my car keys so I couldn’t drive. It’s fine though, I have an extra set in the kitchen of my parent’s house. It was only four miles or so, not too bad in the grand scheme of things. I’ve had worse.”

Eddie just looked at him blankly, too indecisive to decide on concern, horror, or anger at whoever had done this to his friend. He was pretty positive he loved this weirdo, who the fuck had the audacity to keep beating him to a pulp? Couldn't these monsters see how lovable he was?!

“Um, I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m getting my keys and we’re going to the hospital. I don’t need to know what happened, especially since I’m pretty positive that you’re concussed and not making sense. I just need to know you’re okay so we’re going to the ER. Let me just call Wayne and we can go.” Eddie motioned with both hands for Steve to stay still and he did. Even when he heard crashing in Eddie’s room while he looked for his keys and panicked whispers when he finally reached Wayne on the phone, Steve remained in his seat on the old couch.  

He knew he didn’t have to go to the hospital, the worst that could happen already had, but he couldn’t reveal that to Eddie. So, he’d bite his tongue and go through the motions. That was his specialty after all. For now, he’d let Eddie take care of him. He would ignore the grief that blackened his soul and the pain that accompanied the thought of his found family breaking apart. He'd deal with the trauma of loss and pain and death sometime later when he could handle a breakdown alone. At this very moment, Steve would hold himself together and lie to his friend and the doctors he was forced to see to keep the Party's secret. He had already dragged Robin into this mess and had probably lost her in the process, he didn't think he could survive losing Eddie too.

Tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @counting-dollars-counting-stars @newtstabber @estrellami-1 @thegoblinboy @manda-panda-monium @i-less-than-three-you @joruni @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mentalcyborg @vampireinthesun @spectrum-spectre @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @nam-draws @anaibis @zerokrox-blog @renaissan-vvitch @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @labels-are-for-the-weak @amoris-no-smut-allowed @5ammi90 @precursorandthedragon @i-must-potato @valinwonderland @lololol-1234 @wonderland-girl143-blog @tailsfromthecrypt @trippypancakes @ghosttotheparty @thing-a-ling @bleach-the-kitten @pyrohonk @carlyv @gregre369 @lololol-1234

@conversesweetheart @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @perseus-notjackson @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @lumoschild @lawrencebshoggoth @devondespresso @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @nohomoyesbi @theseaofdespair @justdrugsformethanks @space-invading-pigeon @audz-aus @mintmont

[gingermintpepper]

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about lineage curses.

The line of Ouranos is infested with curses - generational malice that's sunk its claws in deep and cannot be cleansed. I think of it as a curse of love - an affliction that is something like a paternal equivalent to postpartum depression - the men of the line of Ouranos were, for a time, unable to bond with their children. Ouranos himself adored his wife but despised his children from the moment they were born. It was disgust perhaps. Or maybe plain fear. Or maybe there was no reason but a deep wrongfulness that he could only attribute to the birth of his new children. But he hated them and his hatred bred hatred. His hatred bred Kronos.

Kronos oddly, is the spitting image of his father. Why he would so exactly resemble the father he despised, who knows, but he married a goddess of the earth - the mirror image of his mother - he loved his wife and his people - the mirror image of his father - and, like that father, all his kindness and good sense died the moment he became a father. What was it about Ouranos' blood that made Kronos mimic even the method of torment? To lock his children away in the dark, cold emptiness of his stomach. To feed them the same doubts and fears that his brothers were fed as babes? What anguish paranoia must be to turn the Golden King into a shaking, spitting beast.

That, then, is the fate written deep in the blood of Zeus. Great king, destined to be overthrown by his children. Great king, doomed to live in fear of the son that would rend him limb from limb and scatter his sex to the ravens. Ah, but what is Zeus if not an enigma. That strange child fed on goat's manna and raised by his mother - is that the difference? That Zeus alone was showered in the hopes and dreams of his mother - that his father was nothing but a target to kill, an opponent for him to conquer. Is that why his curse of love mutated not to encompass his children but his lovers? What other name is there for he who eats his wife to gain her wisdom? What other name but cursed is he who pursues the stars until she becomes dead ground? And when he has a child who is his spitting image, dark eyed and blood-heeled, what can he do but hate?

(Zeus, at least, battles the demons in his blood on his own. Maybe that is the mother in him. Maybe that is why he swallowed Metis while she was still rich with their child. Maybe swallowing a mother restored that missing paternal hole all his father's line had simply been made without. Maybe that's what he tells himself when he looks upon his children and knows he's made things different for them, no matter how much he dreams of keeping them locked in a cool, dark place, pretty in display cases just for him. Maybe that's just his father in him.)

[youchangedmedestiel]

How I see the world since I watched Supernatural:

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[jemmo]

i finally got the time to watch love is better the second time around and im not at all shocked that im obsessed with the adult second chance at love jbl - have you met me.

but it also needs to be known that shiraishi is my beloved, the actor plays this role so perfectly and i want my bitchy sad gay to find true love

[randomwriteronline]

"We had deluded ourselves," Vakama answered simply. His shoulders had risen and fallen with his words in a disheartened, resignated shrug as he had simply gazed forward, never tearing his eyes from them. "We had grown accustomed to calling them ours. But they never were. They had never been meant to be."

Vastus followed his gaze.

"They were never ours," the Turaga repeated softly. "They were Mata Nui's first and foremost - from the very beginning."

They watched in silence, for a while.

Discussions typical of these situations were still on hold, hanging in the air with their jittering inevitability as they went unspoken in awkward glances and weights shifted from one foot to the other, cautious not to shatter the careful filigree of new pain that only the inhabitants of Spherus Magna were already familiar with.

The Toa looked beside themselves in a distant, lost manner. They kept touching them as though it would have done something. It didn't, and they knew it wouldn't; but they continued.

"It doesn't quite matter whose they were meant to be, in the end," the Glatorian murmured.

"It does," Vakama said, but there was no emphasis in his statement.

"It doesn't," Vastus insisted. "In the end, if you feel like this, it's safe to say they were yours."

"They were not," again, without conviction.

The Matoran touched them too.

As if that would have done something.

It didn't, and they knew it wouldn't; but they continued.

"They were yours," the Glatorian repeated. He recognized that quiet anguish; he had seen it, on many faces, across many years. "It always hurts," he continued, though he had changed the subject somewhat, "To see your children die before you."

A wordless moment passed. Many hands, smaller and bigger, kept touching them, their limbs and chests and masks, as if that would have done something.

It didn't.

And they knew it wouldn't.

But they continued.

"I don't understand that word," Vakama confessed. He still did not turn away from the sight of the gathering crowd touching them as if that would have done something. "I don't know what 'children' are."

Vastus thought quietly.

"Younger beings," he explained at last, hoping it would make sense: "Little ones, or bigger ones. They can come into your life as easily as they can not, planned or otherwise: they start knowing nothing, aimless, confused and scared, and it's your duty to guide and care for them. You teach them what you can; you tell them who you were, what they never saw. You love them despite it all and they love you too, hopefully. You teach them and they teach you back, sometimes. You watch them grow. One day they might be bigger than you. One day they might be the ones protecting you. One day you might watch them leave, and it will hurt. One day they might see you die, and you will always hope it won't be the opposite."

"Ah," Vakama spoke.

They kept touching them, as if that would have done something.

As if that would have kept the protodermis warm, the muscle taut.

It didn't, and they knew it wouldn't; but they continued, because there was nothing else to do except touch as if that could have done something.

"Yes, then, I suppose," the Turaga said very softly, in an unsteady, wavering breath, the mechanism in his throat which gave him his voice creaking like a door gone unoiled for far too long: "It must have been so. Or something like it."

Among the many cruelties bestowed by the Great Beings, he counted the ability to grieve in a body that cannot cry.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok & Seven of Nine should have been overbearing co-parents to the borg children

[crypticjackal13]

My mom: *sees me hard at work crafting and not talking to anyone just spacing out with my headphones in* wow I wonder what's got him so quiet?

Me: *thinking about tired MK. MK who has had enough of everything. MK who ever since the spider Queen has felt like a weapon, like if he stops training or doing ANYTHING then everything will fall apart. MK who has tried everything under the sun to feel better and cope but no one understands--not truly. Not enough that the burden of being the hero gets any lighter. Even working alongside Mei, his best friend in the whole world, he feels the need to be the leader, because as great as she is she doesn't have his powers. MK who, ever since the Lady Bone Demon, has a bittersweet relationship with the Monkey King, to the point where he can't look him in the eyes anymore because when he does it just hurts. MK who, as soon as he gets the perfect chance, goes to see macaque to see if MAYBE he has some advice, though deep down he's just worried he'll be tricked again.

Macaque is intrigued at the kid's sudden lack of energy and how everything about his energy just seems darker. Still, Macaque tells his true opinion to the kid when MK asks about the Monkey King. He's just Wukong, just a lazy immortal who only ever disregards others. And when the kid leaves with an odd sag in his shoulders he can't help but feel worried for him, even if he tries to deny actually caring about him.

MK who goes off on his own without telling anyone. MK who stops by Redson's house to ask if he knows any good demonic runes or something to make it so people can't find him. MK who disappears for a fairly long period of time and no one can get a hold of him because even though Redson thought it was a strange thing to ask for, he still complied because it was worse having to look at MK's oddly sad face.

MK who gets used to being alone. MK who never settles down, is always on the move in between different cities and towns, and he has no idea why but there's always some sort of half assed care package waiting for him by his bag in the morning, and along with it a poorly drawn doodle of him. On his birthday, there's a full note, signed by all his friends, even Macaque, not asking him why he left, but just asking him to come home safely.

MK, who, after a full year away from home, makes the trip back. He's happy to see that the city hasn't fallen apart without him, happy that he won't have to clean up a mess.

MK, who walks into Pigsy's and feels a lump in his throat when he smells his favorite recipe being cooked. Pigsy, who just about jumps over the counter to embrace his son, Tang joining in, and as if she could sense it, Mei appears too and causes the three of them to collapse onto the ground as she throws herself into them.

MK, breaking down into sobs without any words as he allows himself to be loved. The Monkey King, who goes to MK instead of the other way around, very patiently waiting his turn to speak to him because he knows this is a lot for anyone who missed the kid. Macaque showing up as well alongside Redson and both will still deny how much they care for him but they don't even try to mask their relief at seeing him safe and in one piece as he sits down to eat a proper meal.

MK, who goes to sleep that night in his childhood bedroom at Pigsy's place instead of his apartment because they both need the reassurance that the other is there.

MK, who feels refreshed after finally getting a break from everything.

[a-s-levynn]

Just so you know, if i disappear i either jumped off the roof or finally snapped and murdered my upper floor neighbours.

[mrstsung]

The only kids shang tsung would have and loves is his own. From himself.

NOT MILEENA. sorry not sorry i hate that hc with a burning passion from fandom.

If it's not made from him,the ol fashion way. He wouldn't be as keen with it. Im not saying if there was a child in the equation with you before (single parent) that he wouldn't step up. He would. But if it's a child made by magic or something like that. It would bring back not so nice memories. Ptsd even.

So i doubt he'd be dad to an experiment like mileena or milly herself. Too much baggage there. I've been over why that hc from Fandom isn't a good one because it's so ooc and ignoring his tramas from shao kahns court and the crap he went through. It's ignoring key parts for a short lived thing that honestly could be easily remedied by MAKING AN OC OR FANKID.

If you want him to have a half tarkatan child make an oc. Leave mileena alone!

She needs kitana,her sister,not a father. If anything. Raiden is right fucking there. Have him step up.

Shang tsung i love him to death but kids,is a touchy subject i feel for him. And honestly,not everyone is ok with parenting. Even people who like kids,want kids but cant have em,etc.

Sorry for this rant but i just do not like this hc. And i myself as much as i dont mind kids,they are a lot of work,and even reading hcs about parenting drains me. Don't get me wrong shang would be an excellent father,just not to mileena. Mileenas father IS SHAO KAHN. that's right there,plain as day. No matter what you think,say or hc. Shao kahn is millys dad. Now like i said kitana stepping up,squashing the unnecessary beef,and ACTUALLY WRITING THEM WITHOUT TARNISHING EITHERS CHARACTER BY WRITING MILEENA AS A FUCKING DISEASED ANIMAL THAT CAN EASILYTUNR BACK INTO A CONVENIENTLY ATTRACTIVE EYECANDY UGH. is what needs to happen. Kitana and mileena despite her being a clone,actually being sisters and ruling outworld side by side.

She doesn't need a man. To make her great. Father or otherwise.

Plus mileena being treated like she has no agency. Even as a fictional character. Pisses me off. Women of mk get this too often. Sadly.

Plus shang doesn't like mileena nor treated her like a person. And mileena hates shang for creating her. Tanya was the only other person who actually gave a rats ass about her other than reptile. Kitana if they weren't cowards. Sindel cared for mileena but was selfish because kitana was actually born form sindel. Not milly. So.....sindel a bit vain. Unless you want mileena to be of a tarkatan affair and add drama to the kahns. Lol. (I actually have a whole ass story idea for that. But again. It's only an idea. Not what actually happened) either way. Mileena doesn't need a man to be amazing.

Tanya is her daddy *wink*. Lol. I joke i joke.

But yeah i just hate when fandoms ignore the obvious traumas and problems for a cute short hc that doesn't even make sense. MAKE AN OC. it's ok. It's not cringe. Police wont bust down your door for making a fucking kid oc for shang tsung. God!

Anyways. I have fankids with shang tsung. But it's more of an exploration idea than anything. Not nessicarly an au,but eh. I dont mind the idea. Just not nessicary for me in my self ship. I like being kidless in my self ship. It's easier to manage. But eh shit happens.

But anyways. If y'all wanna see the fankid au. Or my juicy outworld court drama idea. Lemme know.