#YOU DO NOT FIT IN ANYWHERE

[elias-the-corvid]

Oh my fucking god I love the inheritance cycle saga so fucking much I love Eragon I love Roran I'm so glad I decided to reread this I'd forgotten how GOOD IT WAS

[waitineedaname]

now that i've finished tgcf i can make memes about all three books! i was tempted to put binghe at the absolute center because he could easily go into any quadrant at different points in his life, and both lwj and hua cheng could swing jock, but i think the most important thing is that wei wuxian is all four at once. somehow.

[psychotic-nonsense]

It's happening again.

With Max, it's attempting new tricks on her skateboard. With Dustin, he takes apart and reassembles basic little trinkets. With Nancy, she rewrites old news articles. With Mike, he reorganizes the D&D dice box he's been carrying everywhere since Will left (and even after he came back). With the Sinclairs, it's spinning something - a basketball or pen or keychain or hair tie.

The loud music isn't uncommon, nor where it's coming from. But where the source is, and what kind of music it is, feels like something reserved for times like this.

Steve wasn't supposed to be out here, technically. He's on his lunch break, and he wanted a change of pace from the Family Video parking lot. He drove out to the edge of town - Keith doesn't give much of a damn how long their breaks are anymore - to find that cliff only he really knows how to get to. Helps that his Beemer is like a second heartbeat.

But on his way out, he hears the music.

How the hell Eddie got his van out this far into the woods, Steve's never gonna figure out. But there's loud ass music coming from it that's different to Eddie's usual type. More replicable, mainly, something that sounds like an actual song yet still has Eddie's whole screamy vibe. As Steve gets closer - having parked by the road just outside the woods - he can hear another voice singing along with their full chest.

That's when he realized what it is.

It's that violent restlessness. The buzzing feeling in, under, becoming every inch of your skin. Paralyzes you from doing anything substantial, yet everything else you try to do doesn't make the feeling fade. So you're stuck in a repetitive motion while stuck in place and it feels like exploding from the inside with nothing bursting out.

Most of The Party gets it bad nowadays, since the Upside Down was sealed away. Years of living on the brink of death to suddenly being plopped back into the mundane. Steve especially got it from the lack of sports, which worsened the Upside Down buzz.

Steve knocks on the van's back door, hoping it drowns out the music to not startle his friend too badly. He tries the door, which opens easily, and floods the woods with guitars and drums and voices.

Eddie doesn't startle, but neither does he move. He's laying down on the floor of the back, the precautionary blankets there all twisted up and scattered about in evidence of motion. One hand is tugging hard at the roots of his hair, the other snapping hard along with the music. One leg is bent up and bouncing, and his chest heaves in an attempt to keep up with Eddie's shout-along singing.

"Yeah, you said a single word,

But no one really heard,

Sometimes we scream alone!

It's always worse at night,

When darkness kills the light,

You're in the danger zone!"

It irks Steve in just the wrong way, seeing Eddie frozen like this. Gets him to leave the door open, walk around to the stereo sitting in the passenger seat, and hit the thing silent.

"What?" Eddie snaps immediately. The van rocks as he sits up.

Steve ignores him, just walking back around to the back to smack the side of the van. Noise will keep Eddie stable in this state. Eddie, who's staring at Steve with that adrenaline-fueled glare, jaw tense, sharp where he doesn't mean to be. Steve makes his words stern, to cut through the buzz no doubt rushing through Eddie's ears. "Up. I'm getting you out of here."

"'M fine," Eddie bites back, flopping straight back down with a bang he doesn't feel. One of his hands goes back to his hair.

Steve just reaches down to grab the end of one of those blankets, tugging hard. Eddie just moves an inch, but he flails like the bat tails are back around his ankle. He sits back up, eyeing Steve with a malice he can't mean. It's Eddie and he never does, not even when he's high on fight or flight.

Steve just nods to the outside world, repeating, "I mean it. Come on."

Eddie's jaw tenses just a bit more, before he rolls his eyes and scoots to hop out. Steve backs up, lets Eddie jump out of the van with too much motion, slam the doors shut and pat them in a goodbye both too hard, lets Eddie grip his leather jacket too tightly as he leads the two of them back to the Beemer. The snapping comes back a few minutes in, but Steve leaves it be.

Doesn't pick on Eddie not wiping his shoes, nor for slamming these doors shut or not buckling. The police has had more to worry about them than some unsafe driving. Steve just turns the radio up a bit too loud, leaves the snapping alone, and drives them along the edge of town.

He stops when they get to the junkyard. Doesn't say anything, just gets out and goes straight to the trunk. He hears Eddie follow him outside as Steve gets the not-nailed bat from the back, then slamming the trunk shut to keep Eddie's attention (no matter how much it and the slam prior hurt his soul).

Steve walks past Eddie into the heart of the junkyard. He spins the bat, scanning the ground, and finding an old can-looking thing. He picks it up, tossing it into the air a few times.

Then he tosses it once more, rears back, and hits the shit out of it.

The loud crinkling of metal and crack of wood creates an echo that slices through the residual buzz forming in Steve. He watches it fly haphazardly in the air, spinning randomly before landing on an old car, another echo to cut the buzz.

Eddie doesn't react verbally, but that's fine. Steve just finds something else - a piece of tire - and hits it too. Does the same to a crumpled sheet of metal, then another can-shaped thing. Feels the buzz get torn to pieces with every satisfying echo and vibration of conflicting action coursing through his veins on each hit.

When Steve finally turns to see Eddie's reaction, it's just the snapping fingers to really get his attention. Everything else about Eddie's body language says confused, curious, hungry.

His body still screams, and here it sees something that will listen.

So Steve holds the bat out by the barrel, handle to Eddie, and waves it at the junkyard around them. "Go ahead," he urges.

Eddie eyes it confused for a moment, but he eventually pushes off the side of the Beemer he was leaning against. Makes it to Steve with steps that still feel too hard, but takes the bat. Stares at it, spins it once to get the feel, but still hesitant.

Steve walks past him to retake that place on the Beemer. Eddie watches him go, still confused.

As Steve settles in, he motions again to the open empty junkyard. "Who's going to hear you?" he says.

'Only who you want to hear you,' goes unsaid.

Eddie blinks at Steve a few times more, then down at the bat. Spins it again, looks around. He spots something, stomps over to it, picks it up. A can. Tosses it up once, nearly doesn't catch it.

He looks around again, goes to a car beside him. Sits the can on the hood, steps back. Gets into a stance that feels at once natural and amateur, but Steve doesn't dare.

Because Eddie hits the can and it goes flying, with a crunch that gets Eddie to laugh a little.

Now he's really moving, looking around for something more. More metal, plastic, rubber, anything he can feasibly hit and some things he can't. It gets heavier, harder, doesn't go as far but that means the impact is in rather than out. Cuts through the buzz like nothing.

Soon Eddie takes off his leather jacket and really gets going. He's looking for glass and throwing it far and hard, feeling every shatter in his own insides. Grabs the bat again, starts hitting the vehicles, smashing the windows in further. Drops the bat again, finding unbreakable things and throwing them on the ground, on cars, against other smaller things. Looks like he's going ballistic but it's just the energy finally finding freedom and release in something.

Steve watches it all with prideful satisfaction.

Eddie digs through a pile of rubble, grabbing something evidently interesting. It's stuck, it's difficult, but that manic energy is nothing but insistent. Eddie eventually pulls it out, a rusted old metal chair far heavier than it seems. But Eddie just laughs at the challenge.

He picks up one end, and starts fucking spinning. One heel barely keeping him balanced, he spins and spins and spins. The chair gets lighter, his arms rise with the momentum. And finally, with a growl as cathartic as the destruction, Eddie throws the chair into a car, watching it shatter the glass and dent the metal in a loud bash of sound and noise and release.

This, it seems, is what finally curbs the buzzing. Eddie slumps over with the action, panting and laughing a little. He stumbles to the side, barely losing his footing in time to catch the side of that infamous bus and flop to the dirt beside it. He's panting and breathless and red in the face, but ultimately... satisfied.

Steve resigns himself to the bucket beside Eddie. Leans back against the rusted metal that saved his kids' lives, handing Eddie a water bottle from the storage in his trunk. Eddie takes it with an especially rough huff. Steve takes it as the thank you he knows it is.

Eddie gulps down a quarter of the bottle, spills another quarter on himself on accident. He leans his head back to stare at the sky, panting in relief.

"How... the hell did you know...?" he eventually gets out, still not looking at Steve.

Steve just stares at the patch of grass in the center of their little courtyard, forever greener from the cutlets that rotted there. Shrugs. "Just a hunch."

----------

2/4/25 Edit: Adding in some lyrics from "Breathless" by Dio (1984) thanks to the lovely suggestion by @finalmoondragon !!!!! Everything is the exact same as the original post the only difference is the lyrics :]

[crabsnpersimmons]

the biggest glow-up/flex is showing up 4 years later with a ~7ft tall animatronic spouse

have been trying to figure out an outfit for a social event today all week, so i felt like it was time for Eclipse’s turn for one of these OOTD doodles

he's a real sweetheart

[bumblingbabooshka]

Janeway crashing on Tuvok's couch post Voyager is a funny idea to me because make no mistake, she COULD just get another house in the no-money Earth future or stay with her own family but I think what she really needs is to just bounce between her new Admiral's office and Tuvok's guest room for a few months so she never has to think about her own personal life and she and Tuvok can talk about how fine they are and how unnecessary everyone's worry about them is while they're both very clearly going through something. Bonus points if this is latter mirrored by Tuvok staying at Janeway's place a bit later on and Janeway doesn't even know why and doesn't quite know how to broach the subject with Tuvok because they don't usually talk about that sort of thing and neither wants to change that part of their relationship because it's one of the few things that hasn't changed and that's comforting so she takes him on some maybe not totally official mission with her instead and it goes sideways and everyone gets mad at them. There's no real resolution to this, every planet just keeps spinning.

[commsroom]

this is a sensitive topic for me, so i really hate that i have to make this post, but unfortunately it keeps becoming relevant: stop infantilizing hera, and stop making excuses for it.

"well, she's literally four years old" she's been fully conscious with an adult mind for most of that, awake for most of that, and in multiple places at once for most of that. do you think that is comparable to a child's life experience, or is it maybe representative of something else?

i assume you understand why it would be wrong to call lovelace "literally two" because the fact that she is a clone is textually representative of the trauma she's been through. i also assume you understand why hera occasionally making flippant or frustrated comments about her own struggles living as an AI is different from the text telling you who she is or how you should regard her. it's science fiction, and it's a show that uses science fiction concepts in ways that resonate with real ones. the ultimate fact of the matter is that hera could've been in a lab for 30 years, or for 200 years, in a different setting, and be written the exact same way: as a sheltered, isolated adult woman without real life experiences.

hera is not a child or teenager in a natural stage of development. she is an adult who never went through the usual stages of development or life milestones, who has adult friendships and responsibilities, but who feels she is permanently ill-equipped to handle her life because no one ever taught her how, or gave her the space to make mistakes. if you don't understand why this distinction is important in discussing her trauma, that there are real, adult people who feel the same way, people who feel they've only been alive for four years, women who were never girls... then i really don't know what to say to you.

and i guess i have to say it: it's inherently infantilizing to say her peers see her the same way they see an actual child, or to say she needs them to be parental figures, especially eiffel of all people. "adult women have parents too" not ones that are 30 year old men! and parents have responsibilities to children, even adult children, that are different from the responsibilities two unrelated adults who care about each other have. it fundamentally reframes hera's most equal relationship in a way that diminishes her autonomy within it. (and if you're arguing it's all equal anyway, then what does it add? why don't you consider friendship as important?)

i know some people will dismiss that point because i view eiffel and hera romantically, but i've never argued you have to. if you want to go down that road, it says some pretty awful things about the couple of writers and actors who also view it romantically if you think she was meant to be viewed as a child, much less comparable to his child. you're inventing problems that don't canonically exist.

i just don't understand why you would make it about eiffel at all - and eiffel does not have the right to be a parent; the only thing that will heal his relationship with his real actual child is in relation to his real actual child - instead of discussing what a disabled, isolated, traumatized adult might be able to offer a disabled, traumatized kid. isn't the whole point of hera not being like pryce about breaking cycles? why make her a passive figure in her own story when her entire story arc is about taking control of her life?

there's no utility to this line of thought that doesn't further demean and alienate her, while implying she isn't ready to be a fully autonomous adult person. i don't think most people mean to be ableist, but hera is canonically a disabled woman, and i don't like where that line of thought leads. and yes, she's just a fictional character and can't be hurt by it, but everyone brings some real-world biases to how they engage with fiction. she's written as a marginalized adult person, and her womanhood is textually tied to defense of her personhood and autonomy (as well as a parallel to lovelace, also a marginalized woman.) to paraphrase minkowski - "you are going to show [that woman] some goddamned respect."

[possamble]

I absolutely really need to be writing anything but random ideas while I procrastinate and this is so awful rough bc I literally wrote it on my phone in one sitting while avoiding work but

Do you see my vision. Her Nosy Bitch Syndrome would actually be good for him when they've both chilled out a little in the postcanon.

[sukibenders]

People who hate on female characters because they perceive them as getting in the way of their ship, especially if it's m/m, even when there's proof in the media that that isn't even true...I know what you are.

[kusuokisser]

saiki always says he doesnt have a favorite animal. hes lying. he secretly fucking loves octopuses. he thinks theyre so cool but he would never admit it. to anyone. hed rather die than have people find out but god does he think theyre awesome.

[sircesimblr]

A Grand Piano, for a Mother and her Daughter.

That's what I've been doing last week, instead of scheduling story posts 🤍 And yes, the picture above is a Northeney remake of the filmposter from The Piano (1993), totally inspired by a comment @treason-and-plot made on my story 😉

It is an edit of the Grand Piano from the Late Night EP and makes the stool legs separately recolourable from the piano itself. Anything different would not do for this lady currently in my game!

I had to learn a bit of Blender from scratch for this, and want to send big thank you's to @simlicious for helping out with my question marks! It feels really nice to get going again with cc-plans that were sitting on the shelves since my Milkshape trial ended. So I did some more Blender stuff the rest of the week.

But would you think this Mother is happy with her gift?

Now she can't hide behind "If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient" any longer...

[fallenwhumpee]

"An Hour."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, aftermath of captivity, mentioned death.

Medic, despite what their job would suggest, wasn't a caregiver. They were just a mechanic working on circuits, not who carefully kept the whole mechanism running. They could fix people, but it was that. Someone would have to take over the aftermath.

Much to Medic's relief, Leader was a caregiver. A good one, even.

Too good, they lately noticed. Too good that it was starting to make Medic worried. But just like every other day, Medic knocked the infirmary door in exactly same time, before opening it fully. Youngest was asleep in the hospital bed - Medic had said Leader that it was unnecessary, but Leader  brought one anyway - and at last drops of their IV.

"An hour," Leader muttered. At this point it felt like a ritual. So, without a word, Medic moved and changed Youngest's IV to antibiotics as Leader deserted the room silently. Probably to sleep.

Good, Medic thought. Leader needed it.

Medic made their way to the armchair, only to see Leader's office keys on it. For a moment, they considered giving it back. They respected privacy, but they were also curious. For the last one month and a half, all Leader did was looking for Youngest, caring for Youngest or staying in their office. The first two was understandable, but the third...

Now Medic could learn whatever Leader was doing in their office.

Medic hesitated. They shouldn’t invade Leader’s privacy—Leader had done nothing to earn suspicion, at all. And Leader never broke anyone's boundries, so Medic doing it to them was just wrong. But something had been gnawing at the back of Medic’s mind for weeks now, something beyond the usual worry for Youngest. Leader’s behavior, so single-minded, so intense, felt wrong. So wrong for someone almost obsessed with making the future better. And if there was something in that office that could explain it...

Steeling themselves, Medic turned and walked down the hall to Leader’s office. The key slid into the lock with an ease that almost felt too simple. "Where's Leader?" Medic shouted. Leader's room was wide open and Leader wasn't there.

"Went for a quick walk," Right Hand shouted back.

Medic took a deep breath. "Okay," they muttered. With a simple twist, the door creaked open. Medic slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind them slowly. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the walls. At first glance, it looked like any other office—neat, organized, professional. Just like how Leader liked to keep everything. Medic opened the lights.

Notes. Dozens of them, pinned to a board on the wall, scattered across the desk, and even taped to the edges of the bookshelves, almost creating a wallpaper. Most were in Leader’s precise handwriting, detailing locations, names, dates, and other pieces of information that, together, painted a picture out of a detective's office. Medic’s gaze was drawn to a map on the wall, marked with pins and red string connecting various points. They moved closer, recognizing the locations as places where incidents had occurred—break-ins, disappearances, attacks. All related to Youngest.

Their heart pounded as they picked up a file from the desk. It had a picture, the person's face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was. Medic had seen that face around Whumper—one of the underlings of them. The person had been found dead two weeks ago, the cause still under investigation. There were detailed reports about them, autopsies, locations, biographies... informations that Medic doubted Leader had the authority to kno let alone storing.

They set the file down, their hands trembling slightly. Leader had been gathering evidence, but it wasn’t just about finding Youngest. It was about something more.

Another photo on the desk caught their eye. Medic took it, revealing more photos, more notes underneath. Some were crossed out, others highlighted. A list of names—people connected to the kidnapping—each one with a note beside it: confirmed dead, under surveillance, possible lead.

Some of these people were no longer a threat because they were dead. Was it coincidence, or had Leader...?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped Medic out of their thoughts. They hurriedly closed the folder and placed thr picture back on the desk, glancing around to make sure everything was as they’d found it. The door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

Leader stepped inside, looking tired but alert. They froze for a moment, eyes narrowing as they stared in the sight of Medic standing in their office.

“What are you doing here?” Leader’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning.

Medic tried to keep their expression neutral, forcing a casual shrug qs if they weren’t digging through the room for the last ten minutes. “You left your keys on the chair. Thought I’d drop them off.”

Leader’s gaze flicked to the keys in Medic’s hand, then back to their face. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leader crossed the room, taking the keys with a nod.

“Thank you,” they said, their tone polite but distant. “Please wait for my return next time.”

Medic nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a physical weight. They turned to leave, but couldn’t help one last glance at the desk, at the folder now lying innocently on the surface.

Leader didn’t miss the look. “Is there something else?”

“No,” Medic replied quickly, shaking their head. “Just... take care of yourself, okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Leader’s expression relaxed, a smile so soft and tender taking over. “Don't worry. Byt you should get some rest too.”

How could Medic be suspicious of them when all Leader did was worrying and caring for the team? Shoving the guilt down, they forced a smile and left the office.

-•-

Later that day, Medic was in the break room when the news broke. The television mounted on the wall buzzed with static before the anchor’s voice cut in, somber and urgent.

“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Henchman, a key figure in the recent string of criminal activities linked to the late terrorist Whumper, was found dead earlier this evening. Authorities are investigating, but details remain scarce at this time.”

Medic’s blood ran cold. Henchman—another name on Leader’s list. Dead. Just like the others.

They stood frozen, the room spinning around them. The timeline didn’t add up. Leader couldn’t have done it—they had only left the office for ten minutes, not enough time to cross the city and back. But the coincidences were too many, too pointed.

When Medic next saw Leader, they couldn’t help but study their face, searching for anything. But Leader looked even more drained than the last time, still trying to hold it together desperately. When Medic mentioned the news, Leader’s response was calm, almost indifferent.

“Tragic, but not unexpected,” Leader muttered, shrugging slightly. They weren’t even focused— they looked like they could just collapse and take a twenty four hour nap. “Agency was after them. It was only a matter of time.”

Medic nodded slowly, but the uneasy feeling in their gut only grew. There was something, something that was beyond their understanding. But as Leader walked away, Medic knew one thing for certain— Leader was doing something wrong. It was either their sleeping habits or the team had a huge problem.

-•-

Soo, have another random one. This is standalone, but I wrote this with "A Score to Settle" in my mind. Not quite part two, but I began writing with that intention.

[okkanai]

" i'm not going to pretend anymore . . . i care about you. i don’t have to sit here & figure out why. i just do. " with a gentle cant of her head, lashes flutter, a small breath of laughter leaving plump lips — the only indication of her presumed nervousness. " you're my person. " / open

[greenapplebling]

As someone who loves putting characters in boxes without squeezing them into reductive pockets I love the Houses from twst bc there's a variety and you can find different characters as members of the same House. Bc as long as you have at least one trait that is strong enough that aligns with a core trait of the House you're in

All this to say I have a lot of fun sorting characters from other media into the twst Houses/Dorms

[gumi-writes]

I've been loving the lore dumps for Tien. I instantly fell in love with them and the more I learn the harder I fall. I noticed early on, do they have two names? I noticed your partner's tags and it's been on my mind for a while. Sorry if this is a dumb question. (>.<)

not to worry! 😊 i actually don’t think i’ve ever explained why they have two names on this blog! if anything i'm very happy you noticed and were curious enough to ask about it! :3 so they do have two names, and in the hypothetical situation where they were in the game, you’d be introduced to them as Sister Sabri, which is the name they go by in their role as a senobium nun! (it’s been a while since i’ve played the demo, but i always figured you’d meet them after vere where you’re at the senobium gates and you see a flash of mhin—the guard there who was like NO TOURISTS >:( would refer to her by that name. she never actually introduces herself that way to you).

fun fact (or not haha), but tiên actually didn’t have a name until closer till adulthood, and tiên was one given to her by a past… something. this something was a ex-senobium scientist who was one of the assigned staff to monitor tiên, up until she grew the ill-advised desire to break her out. as you can probably guess, all tiên has left of this person is the name she gave them.

also, it makes me happy that you’ve been enjoying the lore dumps! 🥹 i don’t speak as much as i could about her on here, but that’s because i have way too much information so it’s easier to wait until people have specific questions, even though i don’t expect them at all! thank you for falling for them too hehe, even though i’ve made them with the intent to be a love interest oc, i’m still honoured every time someone does want to find out more about them! 🥹

[carebearcody]

english punditry is so lazy and full of bad takes it makes me hate this country even more

[lakesbian]

imnot reformatting this into a coherent post but do you hear me. is this thing fucking on. is this any thign.