#FREEEEEDOM
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me: ok, i'm officially OVER having periods
mum: ha, good luck, you still have another 20+ years left and lEt'S nOt FoRgEt AbOuT mY gRaNdChIlDrEn 👁️👄👁️
#20 years? my dude that's pretty bold of you to assume i won't be taken away by aliens during the next 20 years#where hopefully they'll harvest my eggs for their own experiments#FREEEEEDOM#also pretty sure that i get reminded i'm gonna be an OLD mum#pretty sure women are having their first borns well into their 30's#it's not longer the 1960's get your head out of the gutter and show me your jazz hands 👐🏻#aaand idk being a parent terrifies me
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I finished everything I had to finish, now i can come out of my drawing hiatus!!!
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Well I am officially finished with all exams and A levels in general. What a strange feeling for 2 years work of my life to come to a close on a random Thursday morning at 11am. I am now just a person, seeking life’s purpose.
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THEY'VE ONLY GONE AND DONE IT!! 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱
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guess who just got a new job!! salaried!! benefits!! has nothing to do with my old misogynist shitbag boss!! Alexa play I’m Ready from the Star Trek musical episode!!
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Figure drawings favorite details
#charcoal#charcoal drawing#vine charcoal#returning to charcoal after using conte for so long was so wonderful like freeeeedom😩#illustration#my art#figure drawing#artistic nude
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this also happened in ohio
I have friends at Indiana University and they've been saying there are snipers on IU Bloomington campus. And theres a bunch of cops everywhere. This is wild.
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I'm back HOME with my babygirl!!!!!
#litlunacy rambles#god its good to be home#gonna eat dinner and then hide in the shower for six years#i aint wearing socks for a fuckin month idc how cold it gets#freeeeedom!!!
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One. More. Day.
And then I get to start working from home.
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hi pookieee
i just found your blog and legit spent like two hours reading your stuff- IT'S SO GOODDDDD OML
so, if requests are open, and if they're not! totally fine, but if they are... can i maybe possibly request a jonathan byers oneshot? 😍maybe domestic vibes, some will and joyce, sort of where reader is just part of the daily, like it's not a 'oH jOnAtHaN hAs a GiRl OvEr' type of thing, the byers are just so used to her being around-
OKEY BYEEE, DRINK WATER, EAT SNACKS, KEEP SPARKLING ✨
fall into place
A/N: HI POOKIE! im obsessed w ur energy and i would do anything for u, this sounds so cute hope u like it 😋
Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jonathan comes home to find you fully adopted into the Byers’ daily routine. When did that happen? 1.3k words.
Warnings: fluff, domesticity, cringe 80s references, mike being annoying, KISSING, pet names (baby, heartthrob)
The front door slamming shut rattles the frame of the house, but nobody seems to care over the ruckus. Jonathan drops his messenger bag by the bench in the foyer, shucking his shoes and skirting to the kitchen. Joyce flips through a fashion catalog by the phone with her thumb nail perched between her lips.
"She's in El's room," Joyce says while Jonathan swipes an unopened juice pouch off the counter and tucks a pack of toaster strudel under his arm. There's an uproar in the other room from the usual teenage suspects. He's about to make his way upstairs when his mom chuckles.
"Oh, hi, mom, how was your day?" Joyce teases, "Thanks for asking, Jonathan. It was lovely, I bought you those juice pouches and toaster pastries you like. How was yours?" She cocks a brow, and he peeks back into the kitchen.
"Love you, mom."
"Love you, too. Oh, also it's fend night. There are some leftovers and dinners in the freezer. Your brother was craving frozen pizza."
"Sounds good!" he shouts, already halfway up the stairs and down the hall. The cassette deck on El's desk sings something tinny and youthful and he's pretty sure she has it cranked to full volume. You're perched at the foot of her bed with your fingers looping the fluffy strands of her hair into a criss-cross plait. You look over and smile, leaning into the kiss he plants on your cheek.
"Hi," you coo.
"Hi, baby," he says with a lazy smile across his face. "My room?"
"In a sec."
El tuts, "she's braiding my hair." You chuckle, tying off the end of her braid with a sparkly, blue elastic you nabbed from the bottom of the bathroom drawer. He tips the straw of his juice to your lips, and you hum and pat the top of El's head just before hopping to your feet and fleeing the room with Jonathan's hand in yours.
"Thank you!" she calls, but you both know you'd do it for her anytime.
He falls back onto his springy mattress, and you straddle his hips, pry the decadent box from his grasp, and triumphantly fish out a strudel.
"I didn't know Mike was visiting this week," you mumble through a mouthful of pastry.
"Yeah, their spring breaks lined up." Jonathan chugs the rest of his fruit cocktail, crushing the pouch and setting it on his bedside table alongside the discarded pastry box. Then he recoils, nose scrunching: "You met mike?"
You nod, nibbling the strudel in half and pressing bite-sized piece to his mouth, swiping away the stray crumbs that sprinkle his shirt. "It's cinnamon," you whisper. He hums.
"Was he weird?" he worries.
"Only a little," you tease, sweeping his hair off his forehead and leaning down to press a damp kiss to the open space.
"He's a punk."
You shrug. "Only a little."
You split the last piece of pastry between you, making sure you get an even amount of filling and frosting before clinking the edges and popping them into your mouths.
"What were you and El listening to?" he asks.
"Make it big. You know Wham. 'I don't want your freeeeedom!'" you mock, squeaking out the iconic high note, "Mike got it for her."
"Sounded... contemporary," he chuckles, setting his palms into the curve of your hips, hooking his thumbs in the loops of your jeans.
"Yeah, I think she has a thing for George Michael. We've been listening to it on repeat." Your stretch your arms over your head with a yawn.
"He is pretty cute," Jonathan teases.
"Yeah, well," you say with all the casualty of a partly cloudy Wednesday afternoon, "Not as cute as you."
He scoffs, sitting up with you still balanced in his lap. “Shut up,” he huffs.
“No!” You grin and lean in close, mumbling, “heartthrob,” in a kiss to his lips. When you pull back he stares softly into your eyes.
“How long have you been here?”
“My shift ended at two so,” you say, “since then. Why? You tryin’ to send me home, Byers?”
“No,” he whispers, he wouldn’t dream of it, “No, I like that you’re here when I get home.”
You chuckle and drape your arm over his shoulder. “That’s very domestic of you.”
“God, I know”—he rolls his eyes, pressing his palms flat to your back and smiling coyly—“Wait ‘til uou hear how glad I am that everyone likes you so much. And that you like them, too. Even when they’re fucking crazy.”
You peck the corner of his mouth gently, willing a smile to creep across his face.
“I fit right in, don’t I?” you tease. But he doesn’t laugh, enamored by everything you say and do. His fingertips just graze your cheek and his eyes flick down to your mouth.
He sighs. “Like our missing puzzle piece.”
“Yeah,” you reason, “like the piece that gets knocked onto the floor to collect dust for ten years until someone's sweeping and randomly unwedges it from the floorboards only to realize it's from the puzzle they gave away last week.”
“No, more like,” he chuckles, “like the one stuck to the underside of the lid that you only find once youre putting the deconstructed puzzle away.”
You giggle, tilting your head back. Then you sigh, whipping your head back to stare into his eyes, foreheads pressed together.
“Maybe we’re all missing puzzle pieces,” he suggests. It’s whispered. Like it’s a secret and you two are the only ones who will ever know the truth.
You nod. “Oh, we definitely are. Five billion lonely little puzzle pieces waiting for our lost portrait.” Your fingers twirl a lock of his hair, and he holds back a splitting grin. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation sober.”
He cackles, holding your lower back as he leans slightly. “Wait,” he says, “you’re sober?” You smack his chest, chuckling when he hollers, “I���m kidding! I’m kidding, you're the only person worth getting high with anymore since Argyle's in Utah.”
You pout facetiously, sticking out your lower lip with your brows knitting. “Jonny! So romantic!”
“Yeah, yeah, natural as riding a bike,” he teases. You smile and lean in to kiss him, and he meets your lips sweetly. You pull away and peck the corner of his mouth then his cheek before your doe eyes flick up to his. Your mouth opens to say something, but Mike bursts into the room.
“Ew, gross, at least close the door if you’re going to suck face!”
You turn over your shoulder with a scowl. “You close the door, we’re obviously busy.”
“I don’t even know you!” Mike scoffs.
You hop up and jump to the door wildly, about to slam it just as you squint and say, “Then you’ve got a lot to learn, sonny.”
But before you can close it, Will peeks into the conversation and offers, “C’mon, let’s be diplomatic, people! Mom says come eat and watch Nightmare on Elm Street.”
“Mister Kreugs again?” you say, “Yes, please!” You high-five Will, and he shuffles down the stairs. Mike and El follow. You turn back to see Jonathan lounging back on his bed, eyes closed and just barely smiling to himself.
“Coming, heartthrob?”
“Yeah,” he says, blinking awake, head lulling to gaze at you, “don’t wait up.”
But you run back anyway, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet.
“Too bad,” you whisper, giving him a consolation kiss. You get him to the bottom of the stairs before he pulls you back against him right on the last step. He kisses you sweetly and with a smile.
Will shouts from the living room, “Okay, I’m usually pretty tolerant, but please no making out during horror night!”
You chuckle, still holding Jonathan’s hand with his arm lazily around your waist. “Okay, fine. Only because you asked nicely.”
You look back to find Jonathan already staring at you. It still makes you nervous or excited or something. He’s holding you so close, and you can’t help but kiss him one last time.
stranger things masterlist
#jonathan byers#jonathan byers x reader#jonathan byers x fem!reader#jonathan byers x you#jonathan byers fluff#jonathan byers fic#jonathan byers fanfic#stranger things#x reader#fluff#domestic!jonathan byers#domestic fluff#stranger things x reader#x fem!reader
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We are screwed...
We are so, SO screwed...
In Canada, the next prime minister candidate that currently has the most support to become our next leader is the Conservative party leader Pierre Pollièvre...
He is a man that keeps referring to Canada as the "Country of Freedom" (what?!?!? Since when do Canadians go "Freeeeedom!" The fuck?!?!?!) while adopting a very American rhetoric, was against expanding the definition of "marriage" to same-gender couples (though claimed that they should be offered the same "rights", just not the same "definition" nor recognition), argued that "Justin Trudeau should not have the right to impose his gender radical ideologies on kids and schools", etc.
While far from a perfect leader, Justin Trudeau has always stood rather firm on gender equality and been very open and vocal in his support of LGBTQ+ people.
During Trump's first mandate, Canada and the USA were at odds with each other on social issues, and the Liberal Party (left) provided a certain "buffer" to help temper Trump's (right) influence on the rest of North America.
There's often been this odd balance between Canada and the USA. When we had Stephen Harper (right) as prime minister, Obama (considered to be on the left in the USA) was president.
So, as a Canadian, I was desperately hoping that Harris would win, so perhaps it would temper the devastating influence that Pollièvre would continue to have on Canadians when (because I don't even think it's an "if" anymore) he'll be elected as prime minister.
But with Pollièvre's determination to keep taking on a populist approach, where he's been gleefully riding people's fears and paranoia about "wokism" and "the attack on parental rights" and the "slow erosion of traditional family models and values in Canada" to the top...
Where he keeps being kicked out of the House of Commons and building himself this image of a "strong, opinionated no-nonsense leader" that wants to "bring Canada back to its former glory" (whatever that was) and "stick it to the big guys" and their radical ideologies...
Let's say that it doesn't exactly look good, especially not for our transgender and non-binary brothers, sisters, and siblings...
Harris / Pollièvre? Not fun, but would have sent a message of hope that fascism wasn't as horrifyingly on the rise as it is in society right now.
Trump / Pollièvre? This is a nightmare scenario. This is what the far-right needs to believe the people are finally ready to stand with them against their enemy - those "godless degenerates" that seek to destroy the very fabric of their beloved society, and are trying to replace/erase them by daring to exist!
We will endure and continue to support and fight for each other, regardless of who is in charge.
But JFC! This is so heartbreaking, and as optimistic as I'm trying to be, I can't help but see some very dark times ahead.
#Personal#LGBTQ+#Queer#Transgender#Non-binary#Community#My thoughts#Sorry for the current lack of optimism#But despite the fact that I was bracing for it#Seeing it happen just hit really really hard...
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I know your foob is not fta but.. How about she's skinny because she weight swapped with poor makoto~ all 700 pounds of neet suddenly shifted to the poor student council prez
"Freeeeedom from all my prior life choices~!"
"F-Futaba! Y-you need to take... Hff... Responsibility for your own weight and body!"
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FREEEEEDOM
SOMEONE PLAY I EARN MY LIFE BY LEMON DEMON LEEEEEETTSS GOOOOOOOOOOO
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theres this song in my head, dont know what it is but its accompanied by a gun being cocked/reloaded to the beat
its like ‘ do do do i dont wanna be spared(?), freedom (freeeeedom) freedom! (freeedomm!) ‘
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