#i dont usually share this kind of thing

[faithfulcat111]

Had a really wild-ass dream that was an AU with the Stranger Things teens. It was some kind of murder mystery cause Argyle was murdered and Jonathan was blamed, but it wasn't him.

Also, somehow Nancy and Steve had lost the last 11 years of memories so the last thing they remembered was their last year of high school and they were trying really hard to keep this fact a secret because Nancy was some kind of security officer (?) investigating and they wanted to find out what happened. I don't remember now what Steve's job was, but Argyle was mayor of the town they were living in and somehow Jonathan ended up as some kind of materials scientist with Will and Lucas.

Anyway, signs were pointing to Lonnie being the actual murderer, but dream me was describing this as some show she was watching to someone else and was pretty sure that was a red herring. Also there were robots.

[delta-piscium]

@steddie-week day 1: Hunger | 1.1k words cw: light angst in that Steve is a little sad/dealing with some mental stuff but like hurt/comfort (not EDs which mental stuff combined with the prompt word might make it seem like, hunger is used as a metaphor)

Sometimes Steve doesn’t talk to anyone for days. He just shuts himself in his room and hides, barely leaves his bed. Pretends he doesn’t exist, or that time has stopped and he’s the only thing that exists.

Sometimes, he’ll go back too soon, feel bad for the ignored calls and drag himself out of bed to see the people who matter most to him. But it won’t feel warm and soft those times. He’ll be too raw and It’ll feel like they’re grabbing his insides and eating them. Pulling his heart and brain out of his body and devouring them without letting him eat theirs in return. 

Usually, he’s okay with that. He knows his place, he knows that’s what he’s for. For other people to get fed. And he’s happy to feed, to do that for them. 

He loves them, of course he’s gonna give himself over. It’s just that sometimes they take too much. They don’t know they do he thinks, they don’t know they’re eating him alive. That he’s presenting himself on a silver platter and letting them take take take, and that sometimes they take too much.

That’s why he disappears, so he can grow back. So he can give more. Because if he stops giving he's afraid they’ll get tired. He won’t be useful, he can’t give when he’s like that. He starts craving, he starts wanting. He feels starved and wants to take and feed too, and that’s not part of the deal. He’s not supposed to eat, he’s supposed to be eaten. So when he turns hungry and ravenous he hides, he isolates. 

Robin is the only one who truly gets this about him, who doesn’t take and demand. She gently accepts the things he gives and never without giving too, forcing him to stay whole. It’s overwhelming and sometimes he has to hide from that too, he doesn’t know how to deal with the force of it. He’s so used to the constant hunger it’s a shock when it’s gone but he’s gotten better. And anyway, he and Robin are part of one whole so whatever is given or taken between them is never really gone. It stays with both of them.

Robin is the only one, or she was the only one he should say. Because now there’s Eddie. Eddie who gives and gives and gives, almost as much as he does. But who doesn’t seem to dwindle and dim like Steve does. Who doesn’t seem to starve or hunger. Eddie who notices when Steve does, when he stumbles and gets greedy. Who holds him up and makes him whole with a look, a touch, a word. 

Eddie who breaks in through his window when he shuts himself in his big empty house and lays with him in his bed, softly telling Steve stories and running his fingers through his hair. 

It’s wonderful.

It's the worst. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna end up as empty as me,” Steve tells him, whispers it into the dark. “That you’re here now and you’re giving and I’m taking and you’re gonna be the one left with nothing.” 

Eddie doesn’t respond immediately but hums in acknowledgment, lets him know he heard and is thinking. 

“This is good for me too,” he says eventually, “being with you and resting. Getting to be here for you when you never used to let anyone but Robin be. It’s good for me too.” 

“It can be good and still drain you.” Says Steve, knows it to be true. He doesn’t resent giving the way he does, he loves it, it’s good. It drains him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “this doesn’t drain me, you’re comforting me too. It’s balanced.” 

Balanced. That’s what Robin tells him too. That’s what Nancy sometimes asked him for when they dated and he couldn’t let her see the cracks. That’s what he wonders about with his other friends. 

He doesn’t usually know how to do that. He doesn’t know where the lines are. He doesn’t understand how Eddie knows. 

“You let me give, and I let you give, so it’s balanced. We don’t take from each other, we gift and we receive. It’s balanced. You have to let other people give sometimes too, Steve.” 

It hits something deep in him, the last words. He knows this, he doesn’t want to know it. 

“I’m afraid they won’t. if I open myself up to it. If I ask, I’m afraid they won’t.” He says it so quietly it’s almost inaudible but Eddie hears. 

His hands still in Steve’s hair for a moment before moving again, gently scratching his scalp. 

“I know baby. But that’s not fair, they want to give too. If they knew how much they took without giving back they’d be heartbroken. It’s not fair to you or them.” 

Steve lets Eddies words wash over him, he knows he’s right. They’d be nauseous with it. His sweet wonderful friends and family would be crushed.

“Sometimes it will happen, maybe,” Eddie continues when Steve doesn’t respond beyond a sharp breath in. “Sometimes people won’t know how to give after only getting but you gotta let them try. Sometimes they’ll learn and adjust, sometimes they won’t and you’ll have to deal with that. But you can’t starve yourself like this because you won’t let them try.” 

"What if I take too much?"

"Then they talk to you, like you should talk to them."

“When did you get so wise,” Steve snorts, his voice is tight but he makes the effort, tries to lighten the mood. Deflects, like he always does. 

Eddie lets him, a little, knows Steve has to. But he’s still serious when he answers.

“Wayne is like a never-ending well of insight and digging around in everything, never lets me get away with shit.” 

The opposite of Steve’s parents who were the first to take from him and never give, never look into his eyes and tell him to eat. 

“He’s a good guy,” Steve tells Eddie instead of weighing him down more than he already has. Instead of acknowledging and relieving the hunger pang that strikes him at the thought. Even now, here, he doesn’t know how. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “I’m here to relay his wisdom, like playing telephone with whatever stuff he teaches me. The things your parents took away from you.”

Eddie still knows, of course, he does. He always knows.

“And what do you get?” Steve has to ask.

“I get you. I get everything.”

Steve smiles, turns around to kiss Eddie. He doesn’t feel empty when Eddie kisses him back, hungry. When he takes and devours. 

[minkufu]

Anyway if youre like me and have trouble visualizing poses you have in mind, 3D models are a godsend.

The structure and proportions of the models arnt perfect even if you resize them, so I end up adjusting a LOT. I just need the general shape of the poses.

one of the best examples I have of 3D models in clip studio making it possible for me to actually complete a draw I otherwise would have scrapped lol

[elkkiel]

.

got brave and shared sleep token with my dad, ya know, because it's important to me and he likes looking for new music. immediately comes home after listening to tmbte on his commute + goes off on how it's neat on a surface level listen, but it's actually super cheesy and inauthentic when you look into it/fundamentally fails at what they claim they want to do with the music and artistic approach to the story they want to tell. Just overall very very critical, esp after I shared why I like them a lot (emotional connection from my own mental health + abuse, etc.) so that kind of sucked

smh my head dude can't have shit in Detroit

(I am never sharing a hyperfixation again lmao I can't do this shit, the rsd is coming in with a steel chair and I'm just trying not to cry because it feels really fuckin dumb to be so upset, but that's the funky thing about rsd lol)

[enden-k]

once in 3 months i make the mistake checking the like rb ratio and considering deleting my blog and just move to twt but this will pass right hahah just like my need to pull kirara hmmmmm

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[arolesbianism]

Anyways incorporating new saint hcs into my semi au Sliver lore means that now saint gets to continuously experience ascending Sliver forever 👍

[blu3berrydraws]

I'm glad to hear you're taking good care of yourself. It's not easy! And correct- that was not for the meme. Okay, here's for that: My opinion of you is that you seem to work very hard at honing your art in stylistic and skill-istic ways. I think you understand that your art is good, even when it "could be better," so I worry that you sometimes draw what will attract others because sadly, OC and older/more niche fandom art often fails to get spread around, even when it is drawn with dedication and skill. Of course, I could be wrong about your relationship to fanart- it's just an easy thing for artists to become reliant on the positive affirmation it brings. I've been in that boat and I could merely be projecting. All in all, I think you are a really special and sincere person- and you're pretty btw. Have a good day🐮

[kurgy]

the writing account that hosts wip wednesday has replied to the wip you posted for wip wednesday

[chisatowo]

I think itd be funny if Tate and Lisa couldn't actually communicate telepathically or could only in a limited capacity, just them rehearsing a bunch of call and return lines during their free time and then they're forced to actually have a social interaction that lasts longer than a couple minutes and you can taste the violence in the air as one of them says smth the other wasn't expecting or that they don't know how to finish

[nightlilium]

@oriandcate

[ignoblefury]

Shit is looking bleak. Again.

I want to escape so fucking badly, I want to be rid of this shit fucking hell country. But I know the political climate of the US always leaves reverberations across the world, both for better and worse.

I remember in 2016 hearing about the golden dawn in Greece and what happened in the wake of Trump's first outing. I remember emboldened fascists patrolling the streets of Florida, waving the flag of traitors and butchers while I was still in that pit of a state. I remember being strong for the queer people I surrounded myself with at school, long before I ever reckoned with my own identity. Long before I allowed myself to even think about my identity because of the anxiety I gave myself. The assumption that the young transmasc person that clung to my side at lunch was so fragile as to need protection. The assumption that if I were queer myself, I would need protection. And the sobering realization that nobody was ever truly safe, regardless of any preconceptions of safety a supposed straight man (even if heavily in denial) was able to grant to his peers.

And now I'm here, years and years later. Feeling a vulnerability that I never had before, because now I don't have that rotten concept of masculinity to shield myself. A double edged sword of being able to call the flesh I reside in home, in tune with my femininity, and being a beacon for the bigots to torch all the same. I live in a state of self that the me of 2016 couldn't conceive of, couldn't dream of, couldn't understand, with friends and family closer to me than I ever could be with my own blood. But now I feel like I'm beginning to understand why that friend of mine clung so close to my side so many years ago, and now I realize I have nobody near to cling to like they did with me and feel that same comfort that at any given moment, and now i feel small.

Small in the face of billionaires that break rules, small in the face of debts needing payment, small in the face of people close to me dying stupid needless deaths, small in the face of a world that is already full of refugees in more need of assistance than a trans girl in a first world country. The entitlement in the face of all this isn't lost on me, but is it so bad to want better? I want to say we've bled and cried and stressed enough. I think as much at least. Haven't we earned a break already? I'm so tired of being told to stay alive because my continued existence is an act of rebellion. I know it is, it shouldn't have to be, I don't want it to be. Joy as an act of rebellion is such a bitter medicine to prescribe to someone who is already jaded. Who sees it all and wants to feel apathy, but can only muster heartbreak.

Iunno. I'm tired, I'm going to be homeless soon, my car barely works, and my job breaks my body faster than I can recover. I have ties to a place I feel nothing for, responsibilities both financial and social, court dates, and not enough damn time to juggle it all. Being apathetic at this point isn't even a "fuck you, got mine" move anymore, its just a coping mechanism. Lord knows my hairline has already crept back enough without mango mussolini at the white House doorstep, and now we're in for round two.

It's so hard to be enthusiastic about being not even a thorn in the side of the capitalist juggernaut we call the US presidency. The gung ho attitude and fake smiles get heavy, and i haven't even been doing it that long. Despite it all though, I still feel some annoying, unyielding, frankly unrealistic urge, yet another responsibility, to spit in the face of the fascists at the helm. So I guess I'll be living a bit longer than I planned.

Stay safe. Love each other. Fight that apathy with whatever you can. Doesn't matter if it's joy or rage or spite. And above all else, bitter medicine be damned, survive.

[penisbilt]

i think niyt wouldve been hopelessly dependent on the canned ravioli

[eruukat]

final fantasy tboys save me. ff tboys save me. save me ff tboys. he/theys if you can hear me please

[guinevereslancelot]

is there any worse feeling than when you feel like someone is mad at you bc they literally are mad at you

[pabotofus]

while we're at it (the whole. emotional vulnerability/reflection/sharing time thing I'm doing rn). you ever notice that you're very similar to a certain person in like. idk. many things. the way you act. react/respond to things. think about things. the things you like. and ur like. hm! interesting! to kind of see yourself mirrored in someone else. but also? worrying!