#i hate myself i'm the worst

[lazylittledragon]

mombin pt 9!! it's been too long i'm sorry

(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)

[egophiliac]

Please elaborate on your twst Pokémon headcannons I’m very interested

I had planned on drawing everyone for this (I made a LIST!) but it. hasn't been going well. 💀 soooo here's what I have so far!

Riddle - Roserade (I was going with 'no legendaries', otherwise I would've given him a Shaymin) (and I don't think Togedemaru is actually a hedgehog or I would've given him one of those too) (...they kind of do fit though. hmm.)

Trey - Alcremie (clover/mint cream + strawberry/ruby cream)

Cater - DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD!

Ace - Impidimp (I feel like there's probably a better one for him, but I can't think of it)

Deuce - Scraggy (meanwhile I KNOW deep in my heart that this is true)

Leona - Pyroar (but like. a nasty Pyroar. just a grizzly old Pyroar with the shittiest attitude imaginable. they pretend to hate each other but secretly they are a bonded pair, do not separate)

[serene-sky-kid]

"After all we've been through you keep doing this Why? Why do you want to die so badly?" - 🦊

this started as a sketch with no defined context and ended in a complete drawing that reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend about serene's personality. there's nothing really written or thought about it, I mean, it's something I know orion will say, but I'm still not sure of the context or how it will get there

[vaguely-concerned]

from what I infer from some of his dialogue, my guess is that while lucanis hasn't had a proper relationship before he has had one night stands and short term flings. and -- listen, I know he's a dick and a menace and probably a hopeless case but please do still spare illario dellamorte a moment of your thoughts and pity for the role of incredulous yet intrepid wing man that he's all but certainly had to play on several occasions for that to happen. there are 100% people out there who were trying SO fucking hard to get no strings attached laid by this stupidly hot emotionally unavailable mysterious stranger who won't be in town for long without lucanis ever realizing it. people who would have remained tragically unlaid if illario weren't there to clue him in.

I'm just imagining Illario staring in pure dismay and disbelief at his dumbass of a cousin failing to pick up what someone isn't just putting down but scattering all over the floor like glittery confetti burning with a magnesium flame brightness to spell out 'SIR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAIL ME THIS IS AN OFFICIAL ENTHUSIASTIC INVITATION TO MY BED' and having to push him out the door after them like 'maker's breath sometimes i don't understand how you have the wits to grip the right end of a knife, lucanis, they were throwing themselves at you and you just stared at them in mild puzzlement until they gave up and went away go fucking GET THEM for the sake of my sanity if nothing else!!!'

[arttsuka]

Based on somewhat real events

I spent way too much time drawing this...

But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you

A continuation (kinda)

[funkyplantguy]

lord take these cramps and give them to bdoubleo100

[susieandhobbes]

I can't explain this, but Black women looking young is somehow being added to the convenient excuses to not ship Black women with popular white leading men but ~not in a racist way~

She's strong and independent, she doesn't need him

He's a mess, she can do better

She should be gay! or with minor Black side character!

NEW: She looks so young :(

I'm obviously picking on this particular person but I've seen several people dismiss SydCarmy because "he's a much older, mentor figure! that'd be inappropriate!" And like??? HUUUUH???

Sydney and Carmy are an absolute MAX of 5 years apart in age. And while Ayo looks beautiful, 19 she does not look! Sydney went to culinary school and has worked at several fine dining establishments before launching her own business, common sense says she's at least in her late 20s. And while Carmy has more restaurant experience, he was a literal prodigy who started young.

ALSO, this is kind of an aside but where the fuck is Carmy mentoring Sydney in any real capacity?

S1 - she gets hired, 2 days later she was like "hey I redid your entire business plan because your shit is fucked, a day later he asked her to lead the brigade and then ditched her. He went to cater Cicero's party with Richie and once again Sydney was in charge DURING A POWER OUTAGE. She quit mid-service, comes back, and he's like want to start a restaurant with me?? Not as a fucking mentee, as a partner

S2 - Sydney is making the construction timeline decisions and present and participating in financial/loan conversations with the literal owners of the Beef/Bear. Sydney is part of designing the menu. Sydney is hiring. The only mentor-mentee relationship she's in is with TINA!

Does Sydney look up to Carmy because he's in many ways accomplished her culinary dreams? Absolutely. But people acting like she's some bright eyed student he's teaching to dice onions is fucking crazy.

[danielleargentino]

farewell, my shooting star

[triglycercule]

what if because dust and horror wouldn't wanna be called anything aside from sans in a multiverse context and they were both good buddies they both just start calling eachother sans. i'm sans (dust) and i'm sans (horror) ahh duo

becaaause horror in his eye(s) still sees himself as sans!! he's sans!! who else is he SUPPOSED to be god 😒😒 stop attatching this stupid fake name onto him that just points out all his shortcomings in his au and also just dehumanizes him (because i get that aus are named after a key trait of something but COME ON the guy's name is HORROR it's like naming a poor person "brokie" or something,,,). horror is PROUDLY sans smh

and dust ALSO sees himself as sans!!! like,,, granted he's definitely not a better sans than he was before considering everything he did (but he still doesn't like his past self's inaction) but he's STILL SANS. nothing about him changed (really?) enough to warrant the whole identity shift. like dude dont discredit him DONT DENY HIS WHOLE LIFE!!! he IS sans no matter what,,, dust doesnt wanna think about what he became if he's not sans now anyways lul :3

now could they fight over the right to the identity of sans??? possibly,,, but also consider this: there are literally infinite numbers of sanses in the multiverse. at some point the shiny title of Sans would be something horror and dust are used to around the multiverse!!! so why fight over the name (that so many others share already so its not exactly exclusive) when they can just decide to make each other feel better!!! be delusional TOGETHER 🤞

[irhabiya]

lebanese childhood friend was severely injured when israel was bombing southern beirut, palestinian childhood best friend's brother and cousin got arrested in amman for protesting months ago, her brother was released by the jordanian gov but they've yet to hear anything about their cousin, christian syrian friend's extended members in damascus are extremely concerned about hts taking power and preparing to flee, some of my own relatives in egypt were asked to do monthly checks in the interior ministry we're scared to even call them from here and they advised us not to come any time soon i haven't seen my brother in almost 3 years, hell on earth is right next door and it only gets worse by the day. what a time to be alive here honestly

[lesbianwyllravengard]

can you elaborate on gale being manipulative? i dont have him in my party very often so i havent really talked to him much

Yeah absolutely.

So to be fair, I didn't notice it until my second or third playthrough because I never played with him in my party either until I got the mod for no party limit. But once I had him in my party - and would choose different dialogue routes/attempted to romance him (but couldn't go through w it because I don't like him) - that's when it became super noticeable. Astarion's manipulations are overdramatised and overexaggerated because he's a caricature of real manipulation that larian obviously never took seriously. Gale however is real manipulation that is at times so effective it seems whoever was writing the dialogue tree fell for it themselves, given the lack of range in responses.

Gale is very straightforward when he wants something. This is usually an admirable quality. He doesn't hide when he needs something and he isn't afraid to ask for help. But that turns into manipulation when, if he doesn't get his way, he begins putting words into the player character's mouth and assuming their intentions behind denying him what he wants. For the romance path, I noticed this when I began romancing him, but quickly switched to Wyll once I realised I couldn't go an entire playthrough pretending to be attracted to Gale. And when you choose Wyll, Gale has this dialogue:

This. Shocked me, to say the least. Gale immediately equates the player's affections to being a signifier of what makes a man "good", and shifts a simple preference of the heart to be the player saying "you're not as good of a man as Wyll, and you're also unworthy of my love", things that the player never said nor is even a logical thing to conclude from anything I would have said previously. He's putting words in my mouth, he's assuming the worst of my decision. Now this can be interpreted in two ways: either he has no idea he's being super manipulative right now, and is simply lashing out in hurt, or he knows full well what he's doing and is doing it on purpose in an attempt to convince the player to choose him over Wyll in his hurt. Regardless of the intention, the result is that he is twisting the player's intentions and feelings into something that satisfies his own insecurities, either as a reflex or to try to warp the player to giving him what he wants. It's manipulation.

Another instance I noticed this was when I was discouraging him from pursuing the Crown of Karsus after reading The Annals of Karsus. I chose the extreme dialogue choices for this one - outright discouraging him, telling him I don't want him pursuing the crown/godhood - because my first playthrough despite passing the roll to convince him not to take the crown, he still did, because of a bug, but I didn't know it was a bug and just thought I'd done it wrong. So the next time, I tried it this way.

First, I reminded him that the Karsite weave - and the crown itself - is what caused Karsus' downfall and led to an absence of magic. Gale brings up how Mystra wanted him to sacrifice himself to save the realm, and says:

This isn't directed at the player, but it is still a manipulation tactic nonetheless. The player does not know Mystra. We do not interact with her, ever, and we do not ever hear her side of it outside of a brief conversation she has with Gale in the tabernacle. Now, I am not commenting on the act of Mystra wanting Gale to kill himself - obviously that's fucked up. But Gale is, again, completely assuming her intentions behind her request, and twisting the image of her into something purposefully cruel and power-hungry (the goddess of ALL magic… fears not having power? sure, Gale. But there's also limitless power in magic? Which one is it Gale?). He's angry with her, he's angry with the player for trying to discourage him from his hubris, and so he lashes out by warping Mystra's image to the player. He also assumes that Mystra knows for a fact the crown of Karsus can be used to overthrow her, when it literally failed to do so in the past. He is going back to his old habits, he's completely forgetting that the existence of the orb is entirely his fault in his arrogance and in actively ignoring Mystra's boundaries, and he goes on to blame her for it:

by saying she 'took' something from him. (Also, he brings up being cured, as a way to say 'hey you care about me and want be to be cured, so you should be okay with me pursuing godhood, because it means I'll be cured :) Mystra doesn't want Gale to have the crown, and so when the player suggests not wanting Gale to have the crown either, he tries to get us to let him have his way by pinning Mystra as the bad guy. Even though before, he was perfectly willing to acknowledge he was in the wrong:

(this was back in the Tabernacle, after speaking to Mystra). There's also more dialogue in Act 1 where he openly admits to actively ignoring Mystra's boundaries, to being blinded by his hubris, leading him to pursue the pocket of magic only to have that pocket be consumed by him, giving him the orb. Something Mystra took no part in, and actively discouraged him from doing.

When the player says they don't want him to pursue godhood, Gale says:

Just. Wow. Okay. So suddenly, the player disagreeing with him wanting to pursue Godhood means they have no faith in him as a person - something that was never said - and that they think he is automatically inferior to anyone else who would try - again, something that is never said. He lashes out, he twists the player's words and intentions, he assumes everything in bad faith, all to shield his hurt over not getting what he wants and to try to get the player to give him what he wants. (He also, again, reduces his own mistakes as "youthful enthusiasm" despite knowing the risks and taking them anyway. And he intends to do the exact same thing again, here).

He appeals to our empathy by suggesting we mean to say he's worthless, he's not a good man, we have no faith in him, he's inferior, etc., as a way to get us to be on his side. He doesn't see our hesitance to be the understanding that it is - that we know Gale is blinded by his hubris once more, and his seeking godhood will end badly no matter what - and instead twists it into something purposefully cruel and ill-intended. He can be mad all he wants with my decisions - that's normal, that's human, and it's understandable given I'm discouraging him from pursuing something he wants. That's not being argued here. But it is how he acts when being denied something he wants, it's how he twists people's words negatively against them to fit his lack of self-worth that makes it manipulation. He's not taking the player at face value, he's not having faith in the player as his friend and companion, he is shoving us into the 'adversary' box by assigning harmful intentions to our disagreement so that he can feel better about himself.

[livingfast04]

Monster Au? - Part 5

partone parttwo partthree partfour II partsix TW: Panic attacks, references to past/current child abuse, a little bit of body horror (as always), mentions of disordered eating. ---

Steve whines loud and distressed even with his Mama cooing into his hair, his sides hurt- and he wants Dad too. But Dad isn’t here- and it’s not safe. 

She’s running her fingers through his hair, he knows she’s trying to calm him into shifting down, making himself his shapeless form. He can’t he’s not supposed to be and, and everything hurts- and- 

“Shhh, come on Baby. It’s okay, just relax it’s okay. Mama’s right here.” She clicks, and Steve pressed his face harder against her stomach, tucking his legs up. Mama dragged her fingers through his hair, cooing and talking softly. 

The door cracked open, and another body joined them on the bed. Steve curled towards his Dad like he was the sun. Big hands pressed against his skin- “Hey Bubba, deep breaths.” And Steve listened, sucked in a sharp breath, hard enough to start coughing. If Steve had thought his sides had hurt before they burned now, he whined, the noise scraping across a throat that wasn’t used to making any kind of noise.  Mama crooned, and Dad just, Dad just rubbed circles against his skin, over the edges of his spine. Over the scarring over road burns on his back. Down each visible knot of his bones, the way his skin was pulled taunt over a frame that it wasn’t built for. Steve sobbed, his body wrung out, exhausted despite the hours of actual sleep he had gotten for the first time in probably years.

Everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop. 

His ears were ringing, and his head hurt, Steve choked on a sob. A hand cupped the back of his head, curling through his hair, Dad- Steve whined, pressing into the touch, craving the soft affection, deprived and desperate. Please, please- he warbled, pressing his face further against his Mama’s stomach. 

They were talking, he could tell, not that he could hear them, or understand them even if he wanted to. Everything was supposed to be safe, and now it wasn’t- and the house was violated- and he just wanted everything to be normal. 

Steve didn’t want to be like this, didn’t want to live like this. Maybe, maybe if he was human it wouldn't hurt so much, the isolation, and lashing out. He let out a soft cry, his lungs rattling at the force of his distress. He felt like someone had shoved him against something too hot, too warm. 

Lips were pressed against his ear, and Steve wished, wished he could understand- before.

Fingers closed around the back of his neck, pressure. It was, scruffed. His mind went empty, his mouth opened soundlessly. His Mama was still running her hands through his hair, lengthening hair, curling down his neck a little more, over his face. His body falling limp under the gentle pressure of his Dad’s big hands on the back of his neck. Ears still ringing, but the comfort was pleasant and- and, and familiar.  Steve was a frantic child, anxious and nervous. He cried easily, which wasn't that un-normal for young shapeshifters, dependent on parents, and gathered pack, Cubs were normally shuffled away for years before anyone outside of a close knit group would ever see them.

It was harder for Steve when he was really small, carried a lot, scruffed when tears and panic couldn’t be quelled with words. If the body and mind were distressed enough, it would calm, a simple level of pressure around the back of his neck.

Steve cooed, the first comfort noise he’d let out in months. It soothed over the rough treatment of his throat, he cooed again, letting out a soft click, relaxing down against the bed. His fingers curling and uncurling.

His body relaxed for the first time in months, slipping shapeless and more monsterish. Steve hummed, shifting his face against the warmth of his parents and blinked sluggishly. 

Mind pleasantly quiet. It was just as easy to fall asleep as it had been last night, fuzzy around the edges, calm. Empty of anxiety. Sure Steve knows logically he was about to have several uncomfortable conversations with his parents, and the anxiety was going to come back. And Everything would be bad, because the Party- Pack, was going to be so fucking upset with him. Steve would be lucky if they even wanted anything to do with him ever again- 

But, his Dad gave his neck another gentle squeeze. 

It was fine right now, it was fine, and it would continue to be fine because his parents were here, and they’d make sure it was fine. ---

It had been three weeks since anyone had seen Steve. 

Robin had been inconsolable. Eddie wasn’t fairing much better. 

The Harrington’s where staying in town indefinitely apparently, their fancy as hell car seen around town. Eddie only really knows all of this because the Kids won’t stop bitching about how they won’t leave so they can go back to the house. No matter how many times someone tells them that they can’t go back. 

Shit, Eddie had to bodily remove Dustin from the Hopper-Byer’s house for being a dick to Hopper for no reason. Loud and angry, yelling about how they can’t just lose their spot, and why did they even leave, it was theirs. 

Eddie doesn’t think that any of the kids get that Hopper could have been murdered in that house. That they didn’t see just how not human the Harrington’s had appeared. Almost half feral and more than ready to kill for their baby.

He glances at the group of adults sitting around the small table in the kitchen. Their voices were low, but- Eddie makes eye contact with Wayne, who stares back at him for a long moment before jerking his head in the most come here motion Eddie’s seen his uncle make to this date. He’s quiet, moving in the room, at least of all the whole group in the living room goes back up in arms over something that isn’t an easy fix. 

Joyce’s mouth snaps shut the second she catches sight of him, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little, sinking down slightly to rest his arms over the back of his uncle's chair. “Yeah Pops?” Eddie stares at Hopper over the top of Wayne’s head. Wayne grunts, lifting his head slightly, just slightly- to look up at him. “How’s Harrington doin’?” There’s a tone in his voice, rough but also defiant. Hopper growls, the noise quiet, but enough that his displeasure at Wayne’s question is known. Eddie snorts softly. 

His Uncle was older than probably anyone in this town. Wayne wasn’t even a part of “The Pack” not really, and he was only here because Eddie asked him to be. Well, because Hopper wanted another opinion on what to do about the whole “Harrington Family, and House” Situation. And Murray had been very loud in his displeasure at their actions. 

The Human had yelled loud enough that the whole house had been set off. Ranting on about laws, and how they could literally face so many legal issues due to their actions against Steve. The Harrington’s had a lot of power. A lot. 

Hopper had yelled back, it ended with Murray shouting about how they didn’t even know what kind of Creature- Supernatural Steve even was. And depending on that, there would be fucking hell to pay.

They all wanted to go back into the house, the kids were just being shits about it.

Eddie twisted his head to the side, he unfocussed on the boy’s in the living room. For a moment, he was a little overwhelmed by the almost sudden silence, but latched on to what he remembered Steve’s heartbeat sounding like. It was a steady thump against his ears. 

A little fast, but given that the boy was almost always anxious- it was a good sound. Some of the tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize was there soothed out. Eddie hadn’t given himself the chance, or even the thought of checking in on Steve. Anger burning under his skin, but now- 

He slumped forwards a bit more. “Sounds good. Better,” He ran his tongue over his teeth, pushing flat against the sharpness of his canines. Eddie works his jaw, thinking over, focusing a little more on the faint thump. “It’s better than I remember it being.” 

Which really doesn’t say anything, Eddie focused in when Steve was dying, and clearly he’s been dying this entire time. So yeah, Steve’s heart beat is incredibly strong compared to what it had been three weeks ago. “Why’d ya wanna know Pops?” Wayne for all his years, and for all he puts up with Eddie, always makes that face when Eddie mimics some of Wayne’s accent. 

Or maybe he made that face because he doesn’t want to share with the rest of the table. “I just remember the Elder Harrington Boys bein’ rather cruel pair in School. Worried about the boy s’all.” Eddie blinked at his Uncle but nodded, that made sense. Part of him curled guilt, hot, angry. 

Steve felt so outcasted, so desperate for affection- that he possibly put himself in danger by calling for his parents. Steve’s heart gives a soft thump against his ears, if he focuses enough he feels like he should be able to hear the younger boy’s laugh. Ghost over his ears, make them twitch. 

Eddie’s chest feels empty when he realizes he can’t even really remember what it sounded like. Can’t remember the last time he heard it. 

“Could mean nothing,” He shrugs, making eye contact with Hopper across the table. “I mean, he might be, fine. Or the steady heartbeat is because we aren’t stressing him out so badly he’s self isolating.” Eddie’s not bitter. Not really, he can’t be mad at Hop, this isn’t his fault, and it’s certainly not Eddie’s. Sure it’s a group collaborative effort that they apparently all banded together to accidentally try and kill Steve-

All the blame isn’t going to fall on one person, no matter what Dustin wants to think. Steve was dying. From what they have gathered, Steve’s of course some kind of Supernatural. What kind, they really don’t fucking know. He’s not a Witch, they are all far too human for that.

Something a little less human, from the sounds, to the reactions- the noise Steve made when his mother opened that door. The clicking- Steve had hidden himself away to die, like a cat does when they know it's time. And they were going to let him. Because they were too caught up in thinking Steve was human. Eddie was too angry to even think about the fact that Steve smelled so distinctly like death- and sickness. Too used to the scent clinging to him- to his skin, to his blood, to his heart. 

“I still don’t see why we can’t approach the Harrington’s.” Joyce’s voice is quiet, she’s human enough to get away with not knowing everything the rest of them do. Eddie’s kind of jealous of the Witches in their group, they aren’t as torn up about the loss of the House as the rest of them are. But he’s grinding his teeth flat every time they try and offer what they think is an easy and viable solution.

Hopper makes a grunt-like noise, “It’s not that easy Joy. The Harrington’s have every right to kill me if I even get close to the house.” Hopper takes a deep breath, “And I’d let him.” It’s there, that point. They know, they’ve failed Steve. And it seems only a handful of people really want to accept that fact. 

It took Hopper a little, he’s still rougher about it, gruff and very Chief-like about it. But Eddie thinks he gets that just Hopper realizing he’s failed Steve. 

However Eddie has to hear “Friends don’t tell Lies” one more fucking time about Steve not telling them he was supernatural. He was going to start biting people. Better yet! Maybe actually sacrifice something to a higher power. Just to the kids to shut the fuck up. Better, better yet! Eddie might just kill Mike, just because. 

They sit in silence for a long moment.

Eddie stares at his hands, curled over the back of his uncle's chair. At the adults trying to pick apart the situation. “What, what if we didn’t bother with the house right now. Sure, it would be nice to go back.” Not really, Eddie can almost still smell the ghost of the depression that coated the surface of everything the second you left the communal living areas. “But, I-” Everyone is just looking at him. “I’d rather be talking to Steve again, than go back to that house. It’s not like we, you, don’t have space.” The Byers-Hopper house was more than big enough, they didn’t need all the extra rooms of the Harrington house, they didn’t need the room, not really. Eddie taps his lips with his shortened fangs.

Murray, who was surprisingly silent, for all that Eddie knows about the human. “No one in this house is getting back into the Harrington’s Home.” His voice was dry, but strangely firm. Lacking its regular holier than thou’ tone, Eddie stared at him for a long moment. “Legally or otherwise. The Harrington brood are mean, and vicious. With or without the high paid lawyers. Digging I can do to figure out what kind of Monster I’m working with here, but there’s not enough dirt I can dig up for that Shitshow. Not if I want to get out of it with my life, and I am rather attached to my life.” 

Hopper snorts, and Joyce laughs. Both noises are a little bitter. But at this point in these people's lives, after what Eddie has seen, they are a little entitled to bitterness. His tongue is heavy, anger is coating his teeth he can’t stand it- and his gums itch. “Russians of various origins, but unknown Supernatural is the line?” Joyce’s tone was teasing, but also sharper. Eddie wouldn’t want to do anything like that either. They’d already tested the limits, especially Steve’s limits.

Murray scoffed, “Yes, because Russians are all distinctly the same, they want to kill me. Supernatural? With unknown origins, I didn’t sign up for that shit. Not outside crossing dimensions.” No one said anything for a moment, and Eddie shifted. Listening to the thump of Steve’s pulse a little more. It was a faint noise from the distance, and sure. Eddie would never be able to actually track it. Not like this. 

But it was nice to actually feel like he could still listen to it. Eddie doesn’t want to say how many nights he spent listening to it before going to bed. He works his jaw again, grinding his teeth together. Wayne shot him a look, and he paused. Right, he ducked his head, bangs falling in his face to hide behind. Eddie picked at the wood on the back of the chair, running his bitten down nails over the chipping gloss on the chair.

Wayne taps his leg, and Eddie draws his attention back up. “Buckley’s too-” His uncle works his jaw, Eddie can tell his teeth never touch. “Hysterical,” Eddie snorts, just slightly, the drawl of his voice, and the way Wayne shapes it around his teeth. “about it’all.” Eyes are on his skin, and it feels like they are trying to worm their ways into his skin. “But Eds, Steve might, might- letya around.” 

He gives a slow nod, Wayne’s not asking in a way back into the house, he’s telling Eddie this in a make sure Steve’s going to be okay when his parents leave, way. Not alone and dying without anyone knowing, way. Eddie wouldn’t even let any of these people in this house use that against him. Not against Steve, not in this way- never in any way actually. Imprinting is special. And Steve probably knows Eddie’s imprinted on him anyway. Supernatural and all, even if he’s never actually acted like he’s imprinted on Steve. 

A mistake, a mistake that Eddie desperately needs to rectify. To fix. Un-fuck up. “Imprinted.” Murray says, and Eddie hisses, low at the tone. The bald man tends to have a rather crashness, when it comes down to it. And while Eddie appreciates it, he doesn’t in this sense. “That could work.” Eddie gnashes his teeth, standing up, Wayne makes an aggressive, displeased noise. Clearly whatever Murray is implying wasn’t what his uncle was going to talk about.

Murray looks unphased, but Hopper’s tensed, and so has Joyce. The fucking Russian guy that hangs around hasn’t said a word, and he doesn’t now. He smells distinctly Wolvish too- but Eddie’s never paid him mind, he is now. Threat- threat. 

“That, could get you back in the house.” Eddie snarled, and so did Wayne. Tension was heavy, and the living room had gone silent. He could care fucking less, what the hell was wrong with this man. His teeth itched. “Like Hell-” Wayne’s tone was sharp, smoother-

“How fucking dare you.” Eddie would apologize for cutting his Uncle off later- “I know you get off on riling people up, and generally just being a fucking prick. But jacking off to this? Playing with it? I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.” It’s not a threat, it's a promise. The older man pales, and Eddie grins, he knows he looks half feral, knows he looks like he can follow up on this request. And it’s, it’s so good. 

Maybe, maybe, the feeling of regret will show up later, mixed in with the heavy coat of guilt, and bitterness, and anger, that already coats his bones. But right now, now Eddie’s protecting something sacred. Do not touch. 

“Never, like hell. I would never do that. Using someone else. What is wrong with-” “Munson.” Hopper’s voice is sharp, low. Eddie curled his lips back further. “No ones going to ask anyone to do that.” Eddie watches the wolf cut his eyes over to Murray, who jerks his gaze away, embarrassment written in his features. Good. His teeth itch, and so does his skin- blood pooled on his tongue. Wayne was on his feet now, slower, and he tried not to think too hard about how his uncle positioned himself in front of him. 

Eddie snapped his jaw, teeth clicking together hard enough they rattled in his skull. Pain flaring across the roof of his mouth and over his jaw. Eddie hisses at Hopper, knows that the other probably thought about it, knows that they all probably have.

“You could get us back in the house?” Mike’s voice is high, loud- Eddie’s going to kill him. He snaps his head around to stare at the teenager, Hopper Growls lower- maybe he’s now realizing just what Murray set loose in his house. Wayne answers the noise sharply with his own snarl. Eddie’s old man is sharp, and protective without question.

“You could have done that this entire time, and you haven’t? What the fuck Eddie.” Baby Wheeler’s voice is accusing, angry- and Eddie isn’t dealing with this. 

Dustin is by his side, looking at him with almost the same expression, and all the kids are poised for a fight- And Eddie hates being like this, but he’s also not doing this- not like this. He spins on his heel, and pushes past the kids, shoving Mike a little harder than he needs to, as he moves past.

The doorknob is frigid under his touch, and he slams it behind him. Eddie climbs into his van and waits for Wayne to follow him out. Doesn’t remember the drive back to the Trailer, doesn’t remember any of it.

Eddie’s not sure if he wants to. All of this is just bad. IT's bad, and he's so fucking angry it's not even funny. How- how. Wayne doesn't say anything to him

--- I lied about part 5, I procrastinated literally all of my work because I didn't want to do anything for a long weekend. Nothing was done, not for anything. I also didn't post, or work on anything for ao3, shocker. I was going to have this posted like hours ago, but my laptop died in the middle of class... which was fun. This part is also not my favorite of the parts if Imma be honest. I hate Dialogue, so much- and there's so much dialogue. You know, this has like an actual title... but I'm also a Long Title enjoyer. So for now I'll just stick to Monster Au? Because it works. At least for now. If it ever goes up on ao3, which it probably will; it'll be under that title. I'd like to actually post a Steddie One-shot that stays a one-shot. *cries over 138k words* (And yes I'm going to keep pushing this link because that fic is my motherfuckin baby-) Anyway, I'm going to go see if I can get a few hours of sleep. That would be nice. I again, ask, where the hell did all of you come from???? You are all incredibly sweet. <3 (I Think this is all who asked to be tagged? I think? They also messed up halfway through making this- so I might have fucked something up possibly) @theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @estrellami-1 @raysreads @knightofthieves @sassysleeplord @gezell-igg @ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw @thegingerrapunzel @finalmoondragon @warrior-616 @lexyvey @thesuninyaface @whalesharksart @two-faced-biatch @plasticcrotches

[buttercupshands]

wait a minute

stop.

stop it.

[byfulcrums]

i cannot stop thinking about anissa and marky though [COMIC SPOILERS]

how did he react when he learned what his mother did? just like mark, he lived a lie. he thought his mother was kind and nice — the only thing that is true is that she loved him, but now, he has no idea if he should believe it

and. you've grown up being conditioned to believe that violence is peace, and that kindness is a lie and a weakness. you hurt people. by hurting a person, by destroying him irreparably, you found the boy you love most: your son. and you don't regret it. you hope one day, once he sees him, he'll get it. but you still don't regret it. you can't say you're sorry

marky will grow up without his biological father, because when mark hugs him he can only remember his mother and what she did to him. your father can't love you the way your mom did. you can't love your mother the way your father loved his

the worst part is, that it she hadn't done it, you wouldn't have existed. you wouldn't be here. your father will grow to love you. you will grow to accept each other. but you tend to wonder — if he never sees you as anything else other than your mother's son, then who will you have when everyone else you know dies?

[scrawnytreedemon]

While I intend this blog to remain a largely news-free space due to the constant hellstate of the world, let me be clear that I stand in full support of both the Palestinian and Jewish peoples who are currently experiencing relentless hate and suffering in these horrid times.

I am disgusted at the number of people, especially "progressives" on this website who have used this situation to spread both Islamophobia and Antisemitism. This goes double if you dared to reblog those "punch nazis/fascists <3" and "[x] are welcome here!" posts while in the next breath spreading dangerous fucking narratives that kill people.

So many people in online political spaces evidently see this as nothing more than a case of picking "sides", when ultimately what matters is supporting the oppressed against fascist governments and militias, wherever they are.

Common people will always have more alike with each other than their leaders. This is not a novel concept. Your activism should always be motivated by love and compassion first, and hatred second. If you use your beliefs as an excuse to find an acceptable target to vent your hatred towards regardless of the actual material outcome, you are no fucking activist.

You're a bigot.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.