#Buy real diplomas

[mishkakagehishka]

It's the way everyone was telling me this college is full of commies and bra-burning feminists and then i get here and it's all posers

[samaspic31]

I finally have a good printer I should make prints of my sw art

[mydriverslicence]

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[bestdcddigital]

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[hachiane]

things that are not talked about enough in Love and Deepspace pt. 2

thanks to comments on part one and perusing LADS Reddit and Youtube, here are more ttantaeilads part 2 Wanderer Bugaloo: a reminder that these are canon in the LADS universe:

Despite being big eaters, Sylus and Xavier don’t like wasabi

Zayne is a kaomoji enjoyer

According to Sylus, Mephisto is not 100% waterproof

Sea God Rafayel kicks MC off a cliff

Glowing singing toy handcuffs exist in Linkon

Xavier once waited for rice to grow

In addition to sleeping sitting up, Sylus is also a stomach sleeper, or he became one after meeting MC

MC has also said she sleeps on her stomach when she's tired after missions

Rafayel stepped out of the bathtub, slipped on a paintbrush, sprained his ankle and checked himself into the highest ward in the hospital

According to Zayne, if you wear a black tie and white shirt, you will resemble 85% of him

Sylus got a money tree stolen from him

Zayne accidentally buys a water tank instead of a cup

Sylus, the type of person to hold anything you give him while he’s on a call

Hotpot flavoured desserts exist in Linkon

Xavier owns a star-shaped wand seasoning shaker

Rabbits were once set loose in a hospital

MC gets stalked on two occasions

"okay but like we can just stand there and look smoking hot" is a line Rafayel commented once

MC turns a warped vinyl record into a fruit plate

Xavier will fight your boss

Zayne is good at snowboarding

MC once caught a lobster while surfing

Sylus almost dies in the desert

Xavier leaves a plant unattended that it grew roots to cover his floor

MC is good at origami and sometimes teaches it to the kids at Akso Hospital

Artsy Birb is a second grader

Zayne's nickname at a restaurant "Two Seasonal Specials Dine-in"

A version of Monopoly exists in Linkon

Xavier’s status “After slaying the Wanderers, the bread in the microwave is straight fire”

Rafayel and the way he names his fish friends: 001, 002 and 886

Lil S Pet Store almost came to be

A steakhouse in Linkon serves steak that has one-third of it cooked and calls it medium-rare

Sylus uses an ammo box as a grill – it failed

The two squirrels that frequently visit Akso Hospital are named after medication

Sylus prefers sour salad dressings

Or he likes sour things in general; he made a salad with green apples

Xavier accidentally gets hired for handing out flyers and selling flowers on the street

MC cannot handle horror movies or horror-themed escape rooms

Immersive experiences as part of marketing efforts are so immersive that it puts users into day-long walking expeditions, causes breathing problems and real body injuries, but are okayed in Linkon

Xavier and MC snoop on people near their apartment block and text each other about it

Despite being a doctor, Zayne will dodge medicine for hot cocoa when he has a flu

Rafayel replying to MC's comment: "okie dokie artichokie"

Dragon Sylus's torn pants stay up despite not having a waistband or belt

Bunbun has legs

Xavier and his too many diplomas

Sylus uses the word "fugly"

Zayne uses the word "angsty"

Rafayel has a bathtub next to a couch in his living room

Zayne is some level of bilingual

Sylus recommends a series of hard spirits as a dinner option

Despite being a doctor, Zayne (attempts to) dodge a dentist's medical advice

Wasabi Octopus's legs smell like mustard

edited on 25.12.24 for accuracy

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Genuine question since the media in my surrounding has become progressively anti-immigrant and (especially) anti-Indian; is there not an issue due to the number of immigrants in Canada? I’ve been under the impression that, compounded with inflation and companies buying up housing/buildings, the sheer number of immigrants were putting a strain on the housing market and (in part) causing the housing crisis? Also that a lot of companies have been declaring to the government they “can’t find workers” and getting subsidies to exploit immigrants, explaining why so many are working in places like Tim Hortons instead of places they’re qualified for since their diplomas are likely not recognized by our “amazing” government

Please don't accept the xenophobia that right wing parties and the media is shovelling out. It is not reflective of reality, and is scapegoating real people:

[bunny-jpeg]

aperol spritz

captain john price

cw: summer fic, rich!price, pwp/smut, bulky!price, cowgirl position, seduction tactics, retired!price, age gap (reader is in her 20s), afab!reader, nipple/breast play, in birth control we trust, mid/plus sized!reader, italian summers here we come,

bunny says: here comes the sunshine! happy summer everyone <3 written while listening to "italian vintage summer"

you met him at last call in a party that you and your friend snuck into. it was in a terrace in a decently sized town in southern italy. you weren't looking to meet anyone that night, let alone anyone during your entire trip. it was your last vacation before you finished your university diploma. you were more interested in sight seeing than wealthy british men who offered to buy you a drink.

"you look a little lonely." he remarked.

you chuckled, "my friend is chatting up a local." the drink was placed in front of you. you took a sip of it, the coolness of it compared to the heat of summer felt good.

you looked over at the man who was trying to chat you up. he was taller than you, short brown hair, blue eyes, interesting facial hair choices. his skin looked tanned from too much time in the sun, the sight of his larger arms was enticing. he noticed you staring.

"the name is john, john price."

you reached over to shake his hand, "you sound like a bond character with that name."

he shook it gently, calloused hands touched your own, "maybe i am. maybe i'm on a secret mission to find the most beautiful woman in all of italy... to of course save the world."

you gave him a look and playfully nudged his shoulder, "alright sweet talker. i guess you haven't found her yet?"

he shook his head, "actually ma'am. i have." he placed his hand over yours, a bold move. he leaned in a little closer, "she's standin' right in front of me."

-

in hindsight, maybe ending up in bed with a british man on a breezy italian night wasn't the brightest idea. but the way he looked at you, the draw of his voice.

"well, don't ya look lovely." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and started to untuck his white button up out of the waistband on his slacks.

you stood there, close to the doorway to the bedroom. you were in nothing but a matching pair of white bra and panties. it wasn't the most existing garments ever, but the way that price's eyes raked across your semi-naked body made your pulse jump.

he unbutton his shirt and kept his eyes on you. the faint breeze off the water came through the window. you leaned a little further against the door way, your thighs pressed together and your arms crossed.

"c'mere." he said in that thick accent of his, "i want to see if this is real or my imagination after too many rum and cokes." he laughed as he took the shirt off his body, leaving him in a white undershirt.

you swallowed at the sight of him with less clothing on, you got a good look at the strength in his arms and chest. you licked your lips to compose yourself before you got closer to him, "so." you stood in front of him, staring down at him, "why are you in italy?"

"didn't you already guess? i'm a secret agent."

you chuckled, "right, right." your eyes scanned across his body, "i guess it's all top secret."

he stood up and suddenly loomed over you. he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor, followed by his pants coming off. he then placed both his hands on your shoulders and said, "well, i guess i can let you in on a little secret."

you placed your hand on the front of his undershirt, "i love a good secret."

"former british army, captain and all." he chuckled. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips gently, "now that i've told ya." he picked you up by the middle and lifted you off your feet. he beamed at you, "i have to kill ya." then placed you on the bed.

you burst into laughter, "no one has ever really picked me up that easily." you covered your face to hide your embarrassment as your laughed.

he took off the undershirt and said, "well, you haven't meet people like me." which was followed by his underwear, "picking you up was like holding an expensive bottle of wine." he caught you in his arms as the two of you softly kissed.

"a big, strong, handsome britishman? i think i've seen a few of those." you joked and were met by another round of kisses that made you melt.

you two kissed on top of the white sheets, that felt nice against your heated skin. he held you by the back of the head as he deepened the kiss. he was a lover in a lot of ways. to be flirted with by someone so handsome was something that made you warm all over.

he took his time getting your undergarments off, he peeled your bra off of you like you were a fine treat that he needed to unwrap. once your chest was bared to him, he kissed at your breasts. his large hands fondled them as he licked across your left nipple.

"beautiful." he said softly, his blue eyes gazed up at you, "so perfect." his smile grew, as did yours. you combed your fingers through his hair as he worshiped and played with your breasts.

your legs mingled with his as he kissed and sucked at your breasts. your felt jitters pool in your gut from the feeling that raced in your body. he felt like a dream, your mouth went dry when he dragged his tongue lazily from the top of your breast all the way to your nipple.

"ah, john."

"you sounds perfect saying my name." he purred in response. his motions continued until you were soaked, he brushed his knee against your slick folds and made a soft sound against your breasts. he then looked up at you with those daring blue eyes, "are ya ready, love?"

you cupped his face and looked at him. you noticed the lines in his face and the grey in his hair. your heart leapt, despite the probably drastic age difference. he was undeniably handsome. you craned your neck to kiss him before you said, "c'mon captain price, show me what all that service can do."

he chuckled and rose up against you. his strong arms wrapped around you once more, you felt the muscles move against your torso, "call me captain again, love. and you'll be in a world of trouble."

you fought the urge to call him that again. instead you rolled yourself on top of him and prayed to the birth control gods that your daily pill worked like it should.

he gazed at you like you were a marble statue there for his worship. his strong, rough hands grasped onto your hips. feeling the fat on them. he said softly, "i understand why they craved statues of women with curves." he chuckled at his comment before he met your gaze, "because they are more beautiful than any other art created."

you covered your face once more, "oh my god."

he laughed, "see, i like that. i know you're hot all over. i can feel it." his cock was so close to slipping inside of you, "i want to know if that cunt is as warm as the rest of you."

you pulled your hands away from your face and positioned yourself on top of him. he held onto you and you held onto him as you sank down on his impressive size. you almost felt your stomach in your throat as you fully seated yourself onto him.

"that's it, love. just like that." his words were encouraging as the two of you moved to establish a pace. it was like your bodies knew exactly what you both wanted, if not needed. the connection was strong and the hum of pleasure in the back of your mind kept you going as you thrusted.

"ah. john." you whimpered as you rolled your hips. you held onto his chest, the hair between your fingers as you moved up and down on his cock.

the breeze cooled your heated back and your nipples remained hard. his chest hair and over all strength felt good against your body. it was a feeling of being fully protected. he engulfed your like a comforting flame as you re-positioned yourself to get the best angle with your movements.

"that's my girl." he purred, "my darlin' girl. you look so good. i wish i found ya earlier in my trip. we could've had a lotta fun on the coast." he beamed at you.

his hands dug further into the meat of your hips as he met your thrust with the same lust hat you carried. the metal frame of the bed squeaked under your movements and the headboard rocked against the pink painted wall.

you fucked with all the windows to the hotel room were open. you moaned like the sounds didn't make it street level. but you didn't care. the rush that went through you as you moved up and down onto his cock.

your cheeks felt swarmed with warmth as you felt his hands move up and down you sides, getting a feel for the angel on top of him. you traced your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle.

"yeah, that's it." he said softly, the heat in his face went all the way down his neck, "you feel so good, love." he chuckled then his jaw tensed as pleasure rolled through him.

you reached for his face and held it to face you, your eyes met and you pulled him in for another searing kiss. your heart thumped in your chest as the kisses became sloppy and the two of you edged closer to your orgasms.

his facial hair brushed against your cheeks, you felt so warm on the inside. it was like gooey caramel had melted in the pit of your stomach. you pulled away to catch your breath and placed both hands on his chest once more.

the pleasure filled the room, the heat that clung to your skin and the sweat at your temples. price's words were filthy with how much he thought you were so beautiful. you had never been buttered up like this before.

his grip grew harder and he took a bit more control of the pace. his cock hit against your most sensitive parts as the bed continued to creak. it wasn't long before you were panting.

your toes curled and light bulbs flashed behind your eyes. pleasure washed down like heavy rainfall and the air left your lungs. you managed to squeak out, "holy shit." before you relaxed and found comfort on your lover's chest.

price continued to hit your sweet spots with his cock. but the weight of you on top of him only made pleasure seep through his bloodstream. his head felt heavy with lust as he gave it a felt more strokes before he finished inside of you. for a moment, he realized that he never asked about protection. but he was in too much of a state of bliss to let his mouth ask the questions.

you both laid there, enjoying each other's company. he moved your head and kissed you once more on the lips. the kiss was sloppy and eventually led to a second round in bed.

the a third, followed by a speedy fourth. by the end of it you were both bone tired and you knew you wouldn't be walking right once you got up.

"that's my girl." he drew before he fell asleep on his back and his hand across his bulky abdomen.

when price was well and asleep, you slipped out of bed. you collected your clothing without making too much noise. you redressed in the hallway of the room before you walked out with your heels in hand.

that was quite the story to tell your friends back home. your face stung with a blush by the thought of it as you walked down empty streets before sunrise.

-

a month later you got a text message while you were back at home enjoying your new semester in school. you almost choked on your drink when you saw who it was from.

'hi, love. it's john price. we met in italy a while back. i was wondering if you wanted to go back, expect you don't leave in the middle of the night.'

it didn't take long before there was money being deposited into your paypal with the note 'for our little vacation'. maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to end up back in bed with a man like price. after all, you never gave him your phone number or paypal information.

but you thought about those arms, his kisses and the strength of his fucking. so it didn't take long before john price nabbed himself a pretty young thing.

xoxo, bunny

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[saberlight1]

— can’t help fallin’ in love, coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of trauma, depression, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: another one!! i am a goddamn writing machine these days lmao. i wanted to write something lovey dovey about my boy, i think i may have gone a lil overboard but this app is seriously lacking coryo fluff fics. i hope you enjoy soft coryo as much as i do! <3

masterlist

Coriolanus sat with an emotionless look on his face as he sat on the rocky train that was taking him to his worst nightmare. He was being shipped off to District 12 for cheating to help you win the games. He didn’t regret that, he never would.

But this was not the ideal outcome he’d imagined.

At least he wouldn’t be completely alone— after all, he was going to your district. He just wished it was under different circumstances.

“You know, I thought I might find you here,” Sejanus’ words caused him to turn around immediately, breaking him from his thoughts. “Sitting all by yourself.” He teased, walking into the train cart Coriolanus was currently in.

“Sejanus, what’re you doing—” He stood up, his eyebrows knitted together in concern and annoyance.

“What do you think?” He cut him off with a scoff. “After what I did in the arena? My father had to buy me the Academy a brand new gym just so I could get my diploma.” He put his bag down. “He begged me to stay, but once I found out where they were sending you, I couldn’t get out fast enough.” He admitted with a sigh, moving to sit down. “Barely made the train ‘cause of this stupid knee, but it’s okay, they gave me some morphling for the pain.”

Coriolanus looked at him with judgment. “You volunteered for this?”

“I figured if I get through basic and then maybe I’d become a medic.” He beamed. “Maybe make a real difference out here… just like you said.” Sejanus’ gaze turned downward. “They never told us what you did,”

“I cheated.” He answered, shamelessly. “To save Y/N from the snakes.” Sejanus’ nodded slowly, understanding where his friend was coming from. After a beat of silence, Coriolanus’ tearful eyes met his. “Do you think they killed her?”

“Why would they risk it?” Sejanus questioned with furrowed brows. “She was a big hit, if there is a games next year, they’re probably gonna invite her to sing at the opening ceremony.” He joked with a smile.

Coriolanus didn’t laugh. “You know, when you came in, I was weighing the merits of suicide.” He half-joked, his smile not meeting his eyes.

“When we’re about to be free?” Sejanus shot back. “When the girl you risked everything for might be waiting for you at the end of this track?” At his words, Coriolanus’ throat ran dry, the tears returning to his eyes. The possibility that you might be waiting not even crossing his mind. Sejanus looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye. “My friend, don’t give them the satisfaction. Your life has just begun. You’re gonna do great— We’re both gonna do great.”

Sejanus’ words still rung in his ears, even if they were spoken all those months ago.

Even now, when you were delicately tucked under his arm, your head buried in his neck as you slept soundly. That conversation seemed to take home in his mind, never leaving.

You were, in-fact, waiting for him, and the moment you saw him you ran into his arms, and he cherished you every day from that moment. The pair of you spent as much time together as you could, and you loved every second of it. As did he.

You were like a star of brightness in his darkness— lighting up places he didn’t even know existed and granting them with your warmth. And now that you weren’t fighting for your life, he got to learn so much about you.

He learned about your quirks, your personality, your smile, all of it. You learned the same about him.

But nights like these where he couldn’t find sleep and was left up alone, the silence and ringing of the bugs outside consumed him, the man getting caught up in the ropes that was his thoughts.

He often didn’t believe he deserved you, that you were too pure for him. You were gifted to him by mistake, but he was too selfish to let you go.

And, God, you never wanted him too.

Coriolanus had a bad habit of not speaking his mind, and bottling his emotions until they bubbled over, everything coming out in one out burst of rage and sadness. You didn’t blame him, you never did. Instead, you picked him up from the floor and held him until he calmed down.

He had never experienced the type of love you gave him, and it scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know how to return it, he wasn’t good with kind of stuff. You taught him things everyday, though.

You snuggled deeper into his neck, his uneven breathing causing you, a light sleeper, to wake up. Or, according to your theories, you were so interlinked with Coryo that you could sense when he was overthinking.

You left a small patch of kisses on his throat, cracking your sleepy eyes open to confirm your suspicions— the boy was staring off into space, not a drop of sleep in his eyes.

“Coryo,” You whispered, leaning up to kiss his jaw softly. He turned at your acts, his eyes meeting yours as his previous frown was replaced with that lovey smile you adored. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head, temporarily pushing you off of him in order for him to turn on his side to properly look at you. Once he got situated, he pulled you back into his chest, a giggle leaving your lips.

Your fingers came up to knead through his messy platinum locks. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “Nothing.. it’s just, sometimes I think you may be too good for me.” He admitted slowly.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Coryo, if anything, you’re too good for me. Remember, honey, I’m ‘District Trash’.” You laughed, repeating the words Lucky Flickermen had said about you before wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving kisses all over his face. “You must be a fool if you can’t see how in love I am with you. You are more than good to me, I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.” You promised, continuing to leave kisses on your lover’s smiling face with every word you spoke.

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer to him. “I love you,” He whispered in your ear, beginning to leave his own kisses on your neck and jaw.

Butterflies creeped up your spine at his confession, a love-sick smile tugging on your lips as you leaned up to really kiss him.

His hands came up to cup your face as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kiss only being further fueled with your burning passion for each other. Your hands slipped back into his locks for purchase as the kiss grew more needy. You let out a whimper against his mouth when he began to kiss you harder, angling your body back to deepen it further.

He smirked against your lips at your noises, before pulling back for air. His thumb swiped back and forth across your cheekbone as you both stared at each other, love strong in the both of your eyes.

“I love you, Coryo.” You whispered back, before taking your spot back in his arms. “Get some sleep, my love.” You left another kiss on his throat, the boy hugging you somehow closer, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you,” He softly spoke, leaning up to blow out the candle you had lit earlier.

“Always,”

[old-fandom]

College age Stanford Pines with a copy of "Hunky Drifters 1975" and seeing his brother on the cover. College age Stanford Pines buying it without so much as looking through it, horribly embarrassed, enraged, and turned on. College age Stanford Pines pulling the padge so hard to the magazine that he damn near rips his Lil IQ off. College age Stanford Pines falling asleep with the magazine because he misses his brother so badly yet still so angry with him. College age Stanford Pines talking to Stan in the magazine about his day in school, telling him about his professors, his courses, cracking jokes with him, updating him on the family. College age Stanford Pines coming close to murder when he sees Fiddleford looking through his copy while commenting on how handsome the guy on the cover is. College age Stanford Pines confessing to Fiddleford through tears and snot that it's his brother and it's the only physical piece of evidence that he's got that Stanley is not dead after being kicked out at 17.

Grad Student Stanford Pines bringing his copy with him through his entire academic career, pulling and talking to Stan. Grad Student Stanford Pines celebrating his graduation by showing Stan his diplomas, like he envisioned showing the real Stan, and how he would have been so proud of him, how he would have encouraged him, how he would made a joke, cracked a smile, and stole his breath away with a kiss.

Gravity Falls Stanford Pines, keeping his magazine in his bedside drawer, using it less and less as his time with the unknown, his research, Bill, then eventually the portal took over.

30's Stanford Pines putting everything he had with eyes into a locked storage area in his closet, placing Stan's magazine at the very bottom (the thought of Bill using Stan's eyes to spy on him made him sick.)

Sea Grunkle Stanford Pines spitting out his coffee as Stanley held up the old and beaten copy of "Hunky Drifters 1975". Sea Grunkle Stanford Pines desperately trying to get the magazine out of Stan's hands as he moves further and further away from him, teasing him about it.

Sea Grunkle Stanley Pines throwing the magazine into the trash while taking Stanford's hand, asking him if he wants to see some of those poses live. (He already has, multiple times, but who is he to say no.)

Sea Grunkle Stanford Pines digging through the trash for the magazine at night and hiding it somewhere for safe keeping then returning to bed with the model of "Hunky Drifters 1975".

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the at his family's summer home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but now there are bodies washing up on shore and you're starting to lose pockets of time. Bob and his friends are acting strange. Is it fear, or do they know more than they're letting on?

Content Warning: Nothing major. Allusion to neglectful parents, Death of a grandmother. Please let me know if I need to add anything!

Word Count: 1.5k

Series Masterlist

Music poured out from the music box that sat atop your dresser, the sweet melody filling the room easing some of the tension from your shoulders and neck. It was a small thing, something your grandmother had found while on one of her many antiquing trips. Luminescent shells decorating the sides, edges traced in gold, gave the illusion of something magical. It reminded you somewhat of the mermaid figurine she kept placed atop her mantle. She had left it to you when she passed a couple years prior, and it sat proudly on your desk for all to see as they entered your room.

Finals had been stressful, but they were finally over and you had the diploma waiting safely at your childhood home along with most of your belongings. Your parents had driven out to North Carolina for your graduation ceremony, celebrating with you for the weekend before heading back to the Midwest. They had announced their intention to travel for the summer, an announcement you were more than familiar with by this point as they had taken every opportunity to travel since you had been old enough to stay with family over the summer. Once you were eighteen and off to college, they had taken to traveling throughout the year as well. It didn’t bother you all that much—not really, anyway.

You were an only child, and while you knew you were loved, you often wondered if your parents considered you a burden rather than a beloved child, and you had spent most of your summers with your maternal grandmother. Grandma Madge had been so fun and full of life, and you had been closer to her than any of her other grandchildren, though you had fond memories of playing on your grandfather’s boat with your older cousins in the Florida heat, the ocean spray hitting your face and easing the sting of the summer heat. You had been closest with Bubbles, your cousin closest in age to you, and the two of you had been attached at the hip during those summers, calling each other often during the months apart. Of course, Bubbles wasn’t her real name, just like Skipper wasn’t yours. Names given to you by older family members, Bubbles because of the nervous tick she had of blowing bubbles into her drink while lost in thought, Skipper given to you by your grandfather because of the way you commanded your cousins around on the boat.

You may have been the youngest, but you were a natural born leader according to the older man.

You and Bubbles had drifted apart during high school, preoccupied with friends you saw every day and the different dreams the both of you pursued. Bubbles chased a dream of writing the world’s best-selling novel, and you chased a dream instilled in you by your grandmother.

You supposed it was natural to be drawn to the ocean. How many people do you hear lament about their yearning for a beach vacation? You weren’t just interested in the beach, however. No, you were fascinated by the fauna that called the body of water home, wanting to know all you could about it. You begged your parents to buy you every book available on the different creatures living beneath the waves, taking nearly weekly visits to the aquarium. You loved all the creatures, but your favorite had always been the stingrays. The little cow-nosed rays glided through the water, racing up to you for pets. They were like little water puppies, and you spent hours with your hand in the water petting them until your parents had to drag you away to finish looking at the rest of the exhibits. It was on one of those early trips that you procured your closest confidante, Rusty—a stuffed cow-nosed stingray who you kept with you as much as possible.

Rusty had been with you during every embarrassing moment, every bad test, and had even moved with you halfway across the country to attend Duke University in North Carolina. He hadn’t been your only friend for long, as during that first week of classes you met a boy who you would know as your greatest friend four years later.

Bob Floyd was a North Carolina native, having come from the small, island town appropriately named North Island. Bob told you all the stories about growing up in that small, island town, even inviting you to spend holidays with him, but you had politely refused. You still spent that time with your grandmother, keeping her company as much as possible after your grandfather had died your sophomore year of high school.

Grandma Madge had passed at the beginning of your final year, and you had considered taking time off to grieve. It had been Bubbles of all people who had called you up to remind you that your grandmother would have wanted you to continue and finish earning your degree, and so though it pained you to push on, keep going you had.

Now, you were at a loss with what to do for your final summer before starting your PhD program at Duke’s graduate school. Finals were wrapping up, and you found yourself confronted with the possibility of returning home for a summer spent alone while your parents were god only knew where.

“When are you gonna take me up on my offer to just spend the summer at my folk’s place?” Bob huffed in a laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully at him from where you lay sprawled out on his bedspread, several textbooks scattered around you. Bob was seated at his desk, textbooks also cracked open as the two of you studied for finals. “I’m serious, Skipper. It’s senior year, and I’d really like if my best friend would come hang out with me for the summer.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you started, stopping when Bob scoffed, shooting you a scowl.

“You’re never a bother. And where’s that same attitude when you’re over here eating all of my poptarts?”

“That’s different,” you giggled.

Bob glared playfully at you. “I beg to differ. Besides, you’d be doin’ me a favor. I’m always so bored when I’m at home. I could really use the company.”

“Wow, what a ringing endorsement,” you joked, Bob rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have friends?”

“I do,” he conceded with a grimace, “but Nat and Mickey are the only two that are at least somewhat normal, and I always feel like a third wheel. It’d be nice to have another person there to even things out.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, pen tapping against your notebook as you considered his proposal. It would definitely beat a summer in the Midwest. Bob scooted forward, putting on his best pleading look, blue eyes dark and round as he pleaded with you.

“C’mon,” he urged, lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?”

You sighed. “I’ll think about it, alright? I want to see what my parents have planned.”

As it would turn out, your parents had planned a trip abroad for the whole summer, and you were left with no other option but to accept Bob’s proposal.

“Don’t sound so happy,” he had laughed. “You love the ocean, and the house is right on the beach.”

“I am happy,” you countered, loading your bags into the back of his car. “But, I’m worried that I’ll just be an imposition.”

“For the thousandth time,” Bob said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “you are not an imposition. My parents love you, remember? Sometimes I think they like you more than they like me. Do you really think they would have let me invite you if they didn’t? Hell, I had to fight’em to keep’em from inviting you themselves.”

Bob’s parents were a sweet couple. Susan was a stay-at-home mom turned entrepreneur, while Richard was a tech developer, and both absolutely adored their only son. They had latched onto you the second Bob had introduced you to them during one of the home football games they had driven up to see, and now they considered you the daughter they never had.

“How did they react when you told them I was coming?” You asked him with a grin. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Pretty sure there’s a mountain of balloons waiting for us when we get there,” he mused, closing the door to the trunk. The two of you rounded the different sides of the car before getting in. Once your seatbelt was fastened, you looked up to see Bob giving you a peculiar look. You returned it with a confused one, and he looked down pointedly at your lap.

“Rusty does not sit in the back,” you said, hugging the stuffed ray closer. Bob let out a little laugh as he held his hands up in surrender.

“You sure you remembered everything?” He asked you as he started the car. You nodded, shifting in your seat to get more comfortable.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then,” he grinned, turning to you. “Let’s get goin’.”

A/N: Here it is! I told y’all I was gonna rewrite it lol But I’m finally getting around to it!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do tag lists, but you can follow my side blog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications for all updates! You can also find my stories on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[bloop-bl00p]

Rewriting Sir Pentious justice for the snake boie

Doesn’t anyone find it weird how we’re gonna have the backstory of everyone in later seasons?

Not only do they hardly follow the redemption aspects but they also give us little to nothing about the characters. I can buy that Heaven is corrupt and/or unfair but rather than having Adam throwing curse words and profanities every five seconds, why not show it in elements of the main cast backstory?

Reveal that they were essentially in unjust situations where they had no other choice but sins to survive, the type of stories that’ll make the audience think “Is Heaven fair in its judgment?” then you have the reveal that the system is corrupted. It feels like common sense to me.

Anyway, Sir Pentious wasn’t that much of an asshole in my rewrite, we understand why he acted the way he did but he still fucked up.

Madhav Karmakar was born in 1858. He was an Indian migrant in England who wanted to follow a partnership in engineering. Studying hard and else he worked ten times harder than the other students due to prejudice regarding his origin.

He made his way into a prestigious university and went out with his diploma ready to show off his skill but generally still faced racial discrimination. Throughout his life, Madhav had to do everything in his power to completely suppress anything that tied him to his country, fully adopting British mannerisms and culture, suppressing his accent, and else. At 17, he became an apprentice and started studying Mechanical Engineering, ending officially his studies at 24.

His hardship allowed him to work alongside others to develop steam machines and various ways of transportation. Despite having clearly mastered, and even ameliorated his domain, Madhav still had fewer opportunities compared to his colleagues and was paid less than the other regardless of the amount of work he put in.

What was first jealousy due to the unfairness of his situation quickly became Envy directed at his white counterparts. He started slowly destroying the reputation of his associates mostly by secretly sabotaging their work in various manners, introducing faulty designs, tampering with documentation, sabotaging equipment and tools, and anything really just to make himself feel better.

It lasted for years until one of his sabotages cost him his life. In 1888 at 30 years old, he caused one structure to collapse and the debris fell on him breaking his legs, he died screaming for help under the remains and suffocated because of the dust.

A few years following his arrival in Hell, he used his ingenuity to create steampunk-style machines in order to conquer territory. Problems, most of the lands were already owned by powerful Overlords. Madhav overestimated his inventions a lot so he got his nonexistent ass beaten all the time. He even gained the nickname Sir Pretentious though he still tries and insists on being called by his real surname (nobody does.)

The dude persisted, gaining the reputation of the village fool. Surprisingly for everyone he finally managed to get his hand on a very small portion of a territory… only for it to be snatched away by a punk rookie a week later. It would be easy for any Overlord to step up but they have their own business to take care of and some find it funny to see those two quarrel all the time.

Bit of a fun fact:

→ If I had to redesign him, he’d be fit with a large figure, we’re talking of the man who built this alone…

.. I doubt the egg boys can lift things too heavy considering they are fragile. So yeah, Madhav isn’t a twink.

→ The egg boys aren’t literal eggs just small mechanical robots he built to be his minions, if they were to break they’ll be gears everywhere but he could still rebuild them later. He wishes he could make them a bit smarter.

→ Snakes are very often associated with lies and manipulation and everything related to it. That’s what Madhav has been as a human, an envious liar. But, snakes can also symbolize renewal and rebirth in other cultures, and since he’s gonna be the first redeemed it kinda fits. I don’t know if Viv knew this but shout out to her if she did.

→ Keeping the romance with Cherry, I can appreciate a really good Enemy to Lover but the way it was framed feels like Cherry only got interested when she learned he had two dick, which feels icky and disingenuous.

So, I thought of slowly making their relationship more of a “Are they fighting or flirting” type of thing. That and having Cherry make comments between their fight like “You’re getting better at this!” which flatters Madhav because he never really had recognition for his fighting skills or invention.

He’s still a bit stuck in the old-timey way of courtship, and considering those things could last 3 to 4 years, with him you can expect the slowest slow burn possible. Anyway, he still respects lots of British traditions, being a regular correspondent and sending letters and gifts. I can see him asking to go on a walk or organize Rendez-vous to learn more about Bomb when his rivalry gets more friendly.

→ His obsession with fighting Alastor comes from the fact that he didn't manage to get up the stairs as quickly as the deer did. So he’s envious and seeks to beat Alastor in a battle to prove he’s the superior one, but he loses every time. His last chance is to side with the Vees, but Vox doesn't even bat an eye when he is near. So just imagine how ecstatic he was when Vox proposed to him to be a spy. While the first weeks were fine, he found himself getting attached to the staff more and more. It was a genuine environment where few people actually recognized him as the brilliant engineer he was (I thought he could actually help with the hotel construction since the building is old and all) and they actually called him by his name.

Not siding with Vox will be the first step to his redemption, renouncing to act of his envious feelings and focusing on what he already had rather than seeking to destroy those above him.

→ His lisp gets worse when he’s lying, he obliviously maintains a whole evil British persona in his quest for respect so as he slowly starts to get genius he’ll slowly start to speak with more ease.

→ Regarding how he’ll appear once in Heaven, he’ll be a human. I find it strange that you don't get to get your human appearance once saved. Viv said it herself, the reason why sinners look like that is because their appearance is in correlation with their sins, life, and the ways they die. It’s a way to mock them.

If this dude or girl gets redeemed, they’ll stay on a couch and that’s just sad, imagine you die go to Hell redeem yourself and you're still a furniture. Anyway, Madhav will get his human form back but with hints of his demonic form.

Kinda like Lovesart23 you should go see her videos and rewrite.

[the-most-humble-blog]

The Great College Lie: Why Degrees Don’t Mean Success

For years, we’ve been fed the same script: Go to college, get a degree, and the world will roll out a red carpet to your success. Sounds simple, right? Except, for many, that “red carpet” feels more like a never-ending hamster wheel of debt, underemployment, and job applications that go straight into the void. So, what happened? Did college lie to us, or did we buy into a dream that was never designed to include everyone?

Let’s dissect The Great College Lie—why the degree doesn’t guarantee success, and what you can do to thrive despite the system.

1. The Promise vs. Reality

The Promise:

College is marketed as the “great equalizer.” They told us education would unlock the American Dream: a steady career, financial security, and a house with a white picket fence. And sure, for some, it worked. But for many others, here’s the reality:

The Reality:

Student Loan Debt: The average college graduate in the U.S. owes $37,000+ in student loans, which can take decades to pay off.

Underemployment: Over 40% of college graduates work jobs that don’t require a degree (hello, barista jobs with a philosophy major).

No Guarantees: That diploma doesn’t protect you from layoffs, market crashes, or a rapidly evolving job market that now demands experience over credentials.

2. Why Degrees Don’t Equal Success

1. It’s About Who You Know, Not What You Know

Networking often outranks education. Studies have shown that up to 70% of jobs are never even posted publicly—they’re filled through connections. Translation? You can have a degree from Harvard, but Chad with zero qualifications might get the job because his dad plays golf with the CEO.

2. Degrees are Losing Their Edge

A bachelor’s degree used to set you apart. Now? It’s almost like having a high school diploma. Everyone has one, which means the competition is fiercer, and employers are raising their standards to include master’s degrees and certifications.

3. The Skills Gap is Real

A piece of paper doesn’t always mean you have the skills employers need. A 2021 survey revealed that 46% of employers feel recent grads aren’t prepared for the workforce. Critical thinking, problem-solving, and real-world experience often trump textbook knowledge.

3. The Student Loan Scam

Let’s call it what it is: a scam. The system was designed to profit off your dreams. Here’s how it works:

Colleges Overpromise: They lure students with flashy marketing, luxurious dorms, and vague promises of a “bright future.”

Loans Trap You: The government and private lenders make it easy to borrow, but repayment terms keep you financially enslaved for decades.

Inflated Costs: College tuition has skyrocketed over 1200% since 1980, far outpacing wage growth. So, you’re borrowing more but earning less.

4. “But College is Still Worth It, Right?”

It depends. For some fields—like medicine, law, and engineering—a degree is non-negotiable. But for many careers, it’s becoming clear that skills and experience matter more than credentials.

Here’s the Shift:

Trade Schools and Certifications: Electricians, plumbers, and tech professionals often earn just as much (or more) than degree holders—with a fraction of the debt.

Freelance and Entrepreneurial Skills: The internet has opened doors to self-taught careers in writing, design, coding, and more.

On-the-Job Learning: Companies like Google, Tesla, and IBM no longer require degrees for many positions—they value skills instead.

5. So, What Should You Do Instead?

1. Learn Marketable Skills

Platforms like Coursera, Udemy, and Khan Academy offer affordable (sometimes free) courses on coding, graphic design, marketing, and more.

The ROI on these courses often far exceeds a traditional degree.

2. Network, Network, Network

Attend local events, join LinkedIn groups, and connect with mentors in your field.

Remember: Jobs often go to those with connections—not just qualifications.

3. Embrace Lifelong Learning

The job market evolves constantly. Staying ahead means continually updating your skills, whether through certifications or self-study.

4. Question the Narrative

Don’t blindly follow the “go to college” script. Ask yourself: What do I want to do, and is college the best path to get there?

6. The Humble Truth About Success

Here’s the real kicker: Success isn’t tied to a degree—it’s tied to your grit, adaptability, and willingness to hustle smart.

Degrees can help, but they aren’t the golden ticket we were promised.

Building real-world skills, learning to market yourself, and forming relationships will often get you farther than any diploma can.

What They Don’t Want You to Know

The Great College Lie isn’t just about the myth of guaranteed success—it’s about the systems that profit from your hopes and dreams. College can be a valuable tool, but it’s not the only path to success.

The sooner we stop glorifying degrees and start valuing skills, effort, and innovation, the better off we’ll all be. In the meantime, let’s admit one thing: We were all sold a dream. But it’s not too late to wake up and rewrite the story.

[acowardinmordor]

I needed to warm up, so I did not plan, just wrote this, and I'm about to hit post without editing or rereading. This is Steve&Eddie more than its a slash

----------

It was a week after the rumors made the rounds about Harrington and Hargrove getting into a fight. Eddie would normally assume it was nothing but posting jock bullshit, and ignore it the same way he ignored what he overheard about cheerleaders hooking up with other cheerleader's boyfriends. Except a couple days after the rumors hit a peak, Harrington showed up at school looking like someone beat his face in with a plate.

That made a pretty strong argument for the rumors being true.

The guy avoided his old crowd, and despite his ex and her new boyfriend - if that rumor is true, there was some overlap - trying to include him, he kept away from everyone for the first two days.

Eddie put him out of mind, one less asshole to cause trouble, one less shithead to dodge. Not his problem. Until he found Harrington sitting at his table in the woods the next week. It made sense, sort of. The guy was obviously having a shit time, and like most of the locals that kept Eddie's business afloat, he was looking for a distraction.

Eddie was right, and Harrington bought some weed before asking about getting anything stronger.

"I don't know man, I just wanna like, not be in my body for a while."

"Fair enough, but I don't keep that on me.

Harrington showed up when told to, and bought enough shit that Eddie hesitated before handing it over. He gave the guy a whole speech about not overdosing and ruining Eddie's upstanding reputation. Whether he listened or not wasn't something he could control.

So, the next Monday, when Harrington chased him down, and, as best as Eddie could tell, tried to become his friend, Eddie's first thought was that it was a ploy to get his next massive purchase of drugs on discount.

But Harrington didn't buy again except for a bit of weed. He did stick around. Outright said he wanted to be Eddie's friend. Kept at it through January until Eddie, confused as shit, admitted that yeah, they were friends. Mostly friends at least. There was stuff that Steve wouldn't talk about; his headaches, his nightmares, his tendency to freak the fuck out if the electricity got weird. Maybe it was better to say that Steve was his study partner who he sometimes hung out with. Cause that was the thing, Steve was pushy about Eddie studying.

"You really want to come back for a third run at graduating, man? Fuck that. 85 is gonna be your year, even if I have to bribe the teachers to pull it off"

"Why do you even care Steve? Maybe I want to become a legend of terrible scholarship in this crap town."

Steve never gave a real answer about it, just kept pushing him, hounding him about his homework, and showing up at his trailer every morning to drag Eddie out of bed if he had to. Wayne thought the whole thing was incredible and gave the guy a spare key. Traitor.

They got closer. Eddie finally met the kids Steve babysat. They immediately decided that Eddie was much cooler than Steve, and ragged on him constantly about it. They were close. They were. Fell asleep at each other's places. Spent half their time together.

Close, but not close enough for Eddie to get answers about why the fuck Steve had bruises and burns and scrapes sometimes. Bad ones. No matter how many times he said it, Steve didn't get those because he got distracted while cooking. It drove Eddie crazy sometimes. That was a lie. It drove him crazy all the time. Steve would tell him about how shit his parents were, but wouldn't admit why the fuck he needed stitches at the top of May.

"You did it."

"I think you'll find that you're the one that did it, Steve, I was an unwilling kidnapping victim in your quest to get us both across that stage."

It wasn't graceful, literally or figuratively, but Eddie got his diploma in 1985. Steve gave him what he said was a small part of his grad present from his parents. A thousand dollars. A thousand goddamn dollars. It was enough that Eddie didn't put the dots together right away. A small part, plus Steve's crappy job at the newly opened mall.

It was weird. But Eddie let it go, because Steve was his friend, maybe could have been best friends if the guy would stop pulling back whenever they got too close. He let it go, and he let Steve push him towards the goal of getting the fuck out of that town, and he promised he'd call when he got to Chicago.

It didn't really click for Eddie until he heard about the mall burning down from Wayne, that Steve never promised that he'd call too. The guy was there, and when Eddie called and demanded to know if he was okay, got another partial answer, another dodge, another thing for the list of shit his friend wouldn't talk about.

They fought about it. Loud enough as Eddie shouted into the phone that his neighbor banged on the wall. Maybe Eddie crossed a line. Maybe he crossed it a long while back. He didn't know. Eddie kept calling until September, but on the rare times that Steve answered, it was awkward and curt and terrible. He stopped trying when Wayne told him that Steve never stopped by, or even waved when they crossed paths.

Steve wanted it over, and it was so fucking weird. The guy slammed into Eddie's life out of nowhere, shifted it, changed the course, cause there was no way in hell Eddie would have graduated if it wasn't for Steve forcing him to try. The guy did all that, and nine months later, was gone again. Out of his life.

It was a week after new rumors reached him in February of 86 that a package arrived. His uncle called outside their normal plans, and said it wasn't sure yet, that there wasn't any proof, but Steve was missing, and some of those kids of his said he'd saved their lives. Said that he wasn't going to come back. Wayne didn't really understand what it meant, but passed on a message from those kids that they'd answer when he called.

Eddie got a box a week after finding out that Steve was gone, full of letters. Long, detailed, apologetic letters. The first was dated in December of 84, written after Steve spent a weekend 'out of his body' just like he wanted to be. The promises at the start didn't make sense. Steve said he'd save him. Steve said he'd make sure he got out. The apologies got more complex. Something about keeping Eddie away from friends he'd never make. About being selfish. About keeping secrets and lying when all he really wanted was to tell Eddie everything.

It was so fucking weird.

The last one was dated a couple days before things went bad in Hawkins, longer than all of the others. Monsters and nightmares and death and chance to make it right. Apologies for not doing it better, doing it sooner. For not wanting to risk it, for pushing Eddie away. Promises that Steve would call him as soon as it was over, that he was only writing this just in case. That it wouldn't ever be sent, and he'd burn the whole box after they won. Then he'd drive up and apologize in person, explain it in person, fix it, because Eddie meant more to him that Steve had ever let show, and he wanted to make it right.

At the bottom was a post script.

"Eds, If it doesn't work out, call this number, and ask for Robin. She knows the whole thing. She'll help. So will the kids. I hope you never read this. So I'm sorry if you are."

[mr-double-downer]

So since a jerkoff tonight wanted to mention “entry level positions” here’s the starting pay for grade 1’s/2’s for the waste water industry here california.

For a small fee of 99 dollars at my local community college (where I saw a flyer for this since I had gone in to take my Brit Lit final) I can take a three hour online course from 9am to 12 pm for a duration of four months. I’ll get my credentials for my grade one and will be eligible to take my grade 2 immediately. Even the minimum starting salary at 60 grand a year is very much doable to live on my own and save up to buy a house, even around here. There are five grades for operators as well as other types of positions for plant management and leadership that require a degree.

My father makes last time I checked 52 an hour as a grade two (he can’t pass his grade three because he’s not good at taking tests) along with all sorts of other benefits due to working for the city/county. He has no education higher than a high school diploma and he’s been doing this for over two decades. In fact the only reason why he learned about the job in the first place was because he knew a guy.

So what’s my point?

Opportunities like this in spite of the seeming ease of entry, are hard to come by. If I hadn’t taken a class in the building this flyer was posted in, I might not have seen it, and if my dad didn’t know a guy, he never would’ve found a breadwinner job so easily.

And sure 99 dollars isn’t much of an expenditure for me, but someone who is actually living paycheck to paycheck might have to think about it, even though it pays well because they’re always hiring operators as they build more plants. 9am to 12pm might be hard for some people to schedule around as it is kind of awkward time placement wise, and unless you have a laptop or computer (which can be another couple hundred dollar investment that some people might not have money to spend if they’re making minimum wage and living paycheck to paycheck) you’re going to have to find a public library with good internet access and hope they have computers available if at all, and honestly online classes really aren’t for everyone especially if you get distracted easy or find the lack of direct access to an instructor discouraging.

Social mobility/advancement has always been gatekept by money, because a lot of time to make money you need to spend money you might not have. This is really nothing to me money wise because I’ll be the first to admit I’m privileged in a lot of ways but a lot of people aren’t me. People don’t even talk about wastewater as industry because it’s also dirty work, the kind of work people turn their nose up to because you work with literal shit and shit water and piss and all sorts of other gross stuff.

Yet the entry level position that requires a 99 dollar enrollment fee and spending 3 hours a week for four months pays a lot better than most jobs that require a degree or trade school/apprenticeship.

So when people say entry level positions shouldn’t be livable I’m going to share this, and say “I bet you feel real stupid now huh?”

And some will say “but downer waste water is really important work our society couldn’t function without it!” yeah you’re right so would every other entry level wagie shit because I doubt most people have the means to live on their own without having to go to the grocery store every couple of weeks. Not even that but people lose their shit about not having access to caffeine, and if you have a pet especially an exotic one like a snake that requires mice whether dead or frozen how are you going to feed without some schmuck like me grabbing it for you?

now never did I say wagie shit needs to be a high paying career cause I’m a firm believer in a job being a job till the next one, but if people take me saying what amounts to “I don’t think people should have to struggle to live even a little comfortable” as some kind of… attack? then I really don’t know what to say other than go fuck yourself and develop real issues to be angry about.