#i just hate this so much and i’m so tired and i just want some fucking help

[buckysgrace]

10. I miss you, I’m sorry

Broken Hearts Club

Steve Harrington x reader

An early post since I accidentally deleted the last chapter smh.

Steve comes to see you.

Steve

The last few weeks had been dull as a gloomy cloud had settled over him, storming and thundering as the lonely feeling caught hold of him. He hated this feeling, but there was no way to get rid of it. He was too bitter to talk to you, still betrayed over how you had lied to him.

“You look awful.” Robin spoke up, shaking the tip jar around again. He had a feeling she was trying to get a rise out of him, but it wasn’t going to work. Not today.

“Thanks.” He replied dryly as he continued to scrub the counter clean, irritated that today had to be such a slow day. Where were all the kids? Probably enjoying the pool like the traitors they were.

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” She asked in frustration, holding her hands out like she didn’t understand. He shook his head, not in the mood to see you at the moment.

“I’ve already spoken to her,” He grumbled, “There’s nothing more to say.” He said, seriously debating about scooping himself out some ice cream. He hadn’t seen you since your last talk, had refused to drive past your house or look at the stall where you worked. Ignoring you was easier, even if he still caught wind of some things.

“I don’t think that’s true.” She told him softer this time around. He snorted, figuring she had to be tired of talking about you too. He couldn’t escape you in his dreams either. It was frustrating, like karma had finally caught up with him.

“Good thing you don’t know everything.” He smarted back, dropping his rag in frustration. No matter how hard he scrubbed at the counters they remained sticky.

“What she did was shitty,” She agreed with him, “But I don’t think she’s a terrible person. You said she was going to tell you, right?” She questioned again, crossed her arms as she leaned against the counter. He sighed.

“Only because her friend was going to tell me.” He repeated the bitter truth, still wondering why you couldn’t just tell him. He didn’t think he was that scary, or shitty. But maybe he still was the asshole from school.

“She’s nice,” She said a second later, “I don’t think that’s completely true.” She nodded her head softly, making him irritated at the way she was siding with you. She was his friend, not yours.

“So I should just forgive her?” He asked with a little laugh, already knowing that he couldn’t do that. At least he thought he couldn’t.

“You should talk to her,” She reasoned with him, giving her head a little shake, “Why are you being so stubborn?” She rested her hands on her hips, mirroring his actions.

“I don’t want to go through another breakup,” He grumbled, “She’s going off to college soon anyways.” He dropped his hands in annoyance again, figuring that would be the end of it. You’d be somewhere else. Much happier. You’d probably find someone else too, but that thought didn’t linger well with him.

“So that’s it?” She questioned him, “You never want to see her again?” She asked as she reached out, giving his shoulder a little push. He grumbled as he pushed her away.

“I never said that,” He sighed, “It’s just complicated.” He stated at last, not wanting to bring up the fresh wounds again. Daybed he would talk to you later, but he didn’t want to think about you right now.

“You don’t have much time left,” She reminded him, “You should talk to her before it’s too late.” She added a second later, making him nod his head as he thought about it. You would be leaving for college soon. Far away, all the way to Chicago. You were leaving this small town for some big city.

“I guess.”

“And get us some more of that banana bread,” She added a second later, “That was really good.” He mumbled along as he thought about how they had devoured it between a shared joint.

He thought about you the rest of his shift and not in his usual mopey way. He took a lot of time considering how the past few weeks had been and if he wanted to keep up like this. He was sure he could eventually pick up the pieces, just as he had with Nancy. But something about you was different. You had always been mingled through his life in some manner and it felt wrong to just lose you completely.

But he was hurt. He couldn’t deny that, even if it was over some dumb bet. Or prank. Whatever it had been. It was immature of you, but that wasn’t the part that hurt him the post. It was the lies. He didn’t understand how you could be with him for so long and keep such a big secret and then be afraid to tell him the truth. None of that made sense to him.

Despite being so hurt, he took pity on you and the way you were pumping your legs furiously to work your bike up over the hill. The summer sun was high in the sky, the air wet and dry. It was a miserable day to be outside. Something about it made him feel soft inside, bitter as he recalled the memories.

He slowed down as he approached you, watching the way you were trying to make your way towards the top of the hill. Part of him wished that he could say that you deserved to be out in the hot heat, but he only felt bad instead.

“Do you need a ride?” He asked as he came to a halt, rolling his window down as your eyes snapped towards him in surprise.

“Oh,” You stalled, “My house is right there.” You pointed out, as if he didn’t know where you lived. His eyes drifted over your shorts for a second too long, heart aching at the worry that you had moved on just fine without him.

“Maybe you can come over and we can talk.” He replied at last, feeling like there was a weight being lifted off of his chest. Your eyes scanned his features for a moment, like you were trying to determine if this was a joke or not.

“Okay,” You breathed out deeply, blinking at him, “Are you sure?” You paused as you glanced down the road, checking for traffic before you pulled yourself off of your bike seat.

“Positive,” He said as he put the car in park, then hopped out to grab your bike, “Why aren’t you driving?” He asked you, recalling how he had seen your car not too long ago.

“Oil change,” You replied sheepishly, “My grandpa is doing it today.” You rubbed your palms over your arm, watching closely as he squeezed your bike into the trunk. Just enough room.

The short ride to his house was quiet, tense as you continually moved your hands across your knees and arms. You were nervous, that much was obvious.

“You can come in,” He chuckled softly, even though he felt just as awkward, “I won’t bite.” He replied as he held the door open, watching as you shimmied your way inside. He hated how the two of you had taken several steps back.

He walked to the fridge, reminded that he desperately needed to head to the grocery store again. He ignored that though, instead reaching for two cans of Coke. He passed one to you, watching the delicate way you opened it.

“Did you read my letter?” You asked at last, bringing the can up to your lips as your eyes fleeting met his. He chewed on his bottom lip, knowing that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

“I did,” He told you softly, “You have a way with words. You should be a poet.” He said seriously. Your words were stunning, beautiful. He wanted to read more of your thoughtful sentences. Even if they sort of rambled at times.

“Right,” You snorted, “But did I explain myself well?” You asked as you furrowed your eyebrows together. He knew what you were really asking. He just didn’t know the full answer to that yet. But he had missed you. Even with all the hurt, he still wanted you. He’d always wanted you.

“I just don’t know why you couldn’t trust me.” He replied at last, not liking the bitter taste that filled his mouth as the words rolled off of his tongue. But it was the truth. He needed to know why.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You promised, “That part was killing me. I figured you’d probably understand. But I didn’t want to be the one that caused the issues.” You shook your head, laughing a little bit.

“It blew up in your face.” He replied, trying to bite back his own smile. Even if he was supposed to be mad at you, something about this felt so natural. He could argue with you for a lifetime.

“Majorly.” You agreed as you sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. He watched you, momentarily memorizing the expression on your face. You look defeated.

“When do you leave for school?” He asked gently, wondering how much time he’d have left. Maybe the two of you could make up before then. Maybe.

“A week,” You told him softly, “I’m excited.” You told him as a smile formed on your lips. He felt his heart crack a little bit, thinking about how far away you would be. He could still change his mind, though. He could still go with the original plan.

“You quit your job?” He asked you softly, trying to recall the last time he had seen you. He had been avoiding you, but maybe that’s why it had been so easy.

“I did,” You nodded your head along, “I figured I owed myself one last week to myself.” Your eyes were gentle as he met your gaze again, feeling the need to cup your face and hold you.

“Just by yourself?” He asked softly, wondering if you were even interested in him still. Maybe he had waited for too long.

“The friends I had were shitty,” You replied with a crinkled nose, “And the guy I’m crazy about isn’t talking to me right now.” You had a longing gaze on your features, making his heart thump roughly inside of his chest.

“We’re talking.” He replied as he felt his lips curl into a soft smile. Baby steps. That was good. Maybe this had been a little too rushed anyways.

“I hurt him,” You continued on, “And I was a big ass about it. He didn’t deserve to be treated in that way. I totally blew it.” You rambled on for a moment, making him consider your words. He agreed with them, but he knew he hadn’t been perfect either.

“I don’t know about totally,” He said a second later, “I think I’ve been a dick before too.” He told you truthfully, regretting the way he had ditched you in school. Things would’ve been better if he had just stuck with you.

“Steve,” You exhaled roughly, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want it to get this far.” You looked apologetic again, eyes brewing over with fresh tears. He watched, but didn’t want you to cry.

“You’re being honest right now?” He questioned you softly, wondering if that trust could be bridged between the two of you again.

“Of course I am,” You said in surprise, “I swear to you.” You told him quickly, nodding your head. He breathed in deeply, feeling a lot better suddenly.

“I’m sorry I ditched you in high school.” He apologized, knowing he hadn’t ever fully said it outloud. Maybe he didn’t mean it then either, but he did now.

“That’s not important,” You mumbled as you looked towards the ceiling, “I shouldn’t listen to what people tell me so easily.” You chewed on your bottom lip, making him smile wistfully.

“You’re going to make much better friends than Patty.” He said honestly, feeling bad that you had been stuck with someone like her for so long.

“You think so?” You questioned, eyes glimmering hopefully. He paused for a moment, reaching across the counter to take your hand.

“I think you’re going to do great things.” He promised, observing the way your hand fit against his. Perfectly.

“I think you will too,” You replied gently, “Maybe you’ll forgive me one day and I can be there to witness that.” You breathed out hopefully, but he already knew what his answer was.

“I don’t get it,” He said suddenly, “How could you just lie to me like that?” He asked again, almost withdrawing his hand. But he stayed still, wanting to hear your answer. He wanted to believe you too. Badly.

“I didn’t realize it was real until it was too late,” You admitted, “And then I was afraid of hurting you. I know it sounds stupid, but I never wanted to hurt you. I promise you.” You nodded your head, looking earnest.

“You’ll never lie to me again?” He asked softly, linking his fingers with yours gently.

���Ever.” You nodded your head sternly, a small smile forming on your lips. His chest felt even lighter, his heart not as sore. He believed you, he really did.

“Maybe I could come with you,” He started to suggest, thinking about where this was going, “I mean, you’re going to need someone to carry all of those boxes.” He replied as a small laugh came from you.

“Oh, absolutely,” You nodded your head in agreement, “I need a strong man to help me out.” You teased, smile blinding as he watched the way your lips parted. He had a feeling that everything was going to be alright.

Thanks for reading!!

Tags: @ravenclawkatherine @losingmygrasponreality

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Omg you’re James works ❤️🥹😊😊😩😩I can’t figure out which era of him I like more so this is like a span? So maybe in 83, James and reader were dating but they broke up. Later, she found out she’s pregnant and she tried to get in touch but he thought she just wants money. Fast forward 10 years and James tries to make amends but then he finds them, it turns out his son hates him because the reader struggled a lot and although they have some money they live very very modestly? And the reader had to sacrifice her dreams as she had to take care of her son? And unfortunately the kid saw the reader cry over a gossip magazine where metallicas “showers with groupies” story was published? That made him despise James? So James has to try really hard to fix it? Maybe in the end he finally proposes? And his son is finally ready to accept him as father?

Thank you so much, I hope you like it❤

Love reclaimed

When James and I broke up, I told myself I’d move on—that I’d leave the memories behind, just like he had. But when I found out I was pregnant, everything changed. I dialed his number, feeling both hopeful and terrified. Maybe, just maybe, this would mean something to him.

When he picked up, his voice was edged with irritation. “Why are you calling?”

My heart pounded as I said, “James, I’m pregnant. This is your child.”

There was a silence, and then he let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Is this some kind of joke?”

I forced myself to stay calm. “No, James. I just… I thought you deserved to know.”

“You thought I’d buy this?” he snapped, his voice full of contempt. “You’re just after money, aren’t you?”

The accusation hit me like a punch. “Money? James, I don’t want anything from you. I just thought maybe… maybe you’d want to be a part of this.”

He scoffed. “You’re unbelievable. I’m not falling for this. We’re done, alright? Stop calling.”

He hung up, and I stood there, stunned, with his words echoing in my mind. The man I’d once loved had dismissed me and our child without a second thought. Tears filled my eyes, but I steeled myself. I was going to do this alone.

Ten Years Later

Life hadn’t been easy, but I’d done my best for Noah. Our apartment was small, but it was ours. We had a routine, a rhythm, and despite the sacrifices, I’d found a quiet kind of strength in it. But as Noah grew older, the questions started, and so did his anger

One evening, after a long day of juggling two jobs, I sat on the couch, exhausted. As I flipped through a gossip magazine I’d picked up to unwind, a headline caught my eye: _“Metallica’s Wild Nights: Hetfield Showers with Groupies!”_ My heart sank as I read the details, the images of carefree musicians living lavish lives while I struggled to make ends meet for me and Noah. I couldn't help but feel a surge of betrayal.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about all I had sacrificed. I had dreams once—ambitions that felt so far away now. I choked back a sob, feeling the weight of my regrets pressing down on me.

I didn’t hear Noah come home until I heard the magazine hit the table with a heavy thud. Startled, I looked up to see him standing there, his expression twisted in anger.

“Why are you crying?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Noah. I’m just tired,” I lied, trying to wipe my tears away.

But he wasn’t buying it. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the magazine sprawled open on the table. “Is it about him?” he asked, his voice low and furious. “Is it about James?”

My heart twisted at the mention of his name, and I could see the anger boiling in Noah's chest. “It’s just stupid gossip. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, it does matter!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You shouldn’t be crying over some guy who doesn’t care about you!”

The truth in his words hit me like a slap. I struggled to maintain my composure, but the floodgates opened. “Noah, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” I said, my voice trembling. “I just thought… I thought he’d be different.”

“Mom,” Noah said, his tone softening, “I hate him. I hate him with all my heart. He’s the reason you’ve had to struggle so much. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I wiped my tears, forcing a smile, even as my heart swelled with gratitude for my son’s fierce loyalty. “I know, sweetheart. I know. But I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“You deserve better than him,” Noah said, his voice firm. “And if he ever shows up again, I swear I’ll make him regret it.”

—---------

Then, one gray, rainy afternoon, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, and there he was—James, looking older, worn, and regretful. My heart stopped. I wasn’t ready for this.

He spoke first, his voice soft. “I know it’s been a long time, but… I want to make things right.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to let him see the hurt that still lingered. “You think you can just walk back in here and fix everything?”

He shifted, uncomfortable. “I know I messed up, alright? I know I should’ve been there. I’m trying to make amends.”

“Amends?” I echoed bitterly. “You think showing up after ten years is going to make up for the hell you put us through?”

As Noah appeared in the hallway, he looked between James and me, his eyes filled with suspicion. I could feel the air grow thick with tension as James turned to him slowly, his face softening, and took a tentative step closer.

"Hey, buddy," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm... I'm your dad."

Noah’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, his jaw tightening as he processed the weight of those words. “My dad?” he repeated, voice dripping with bitterness. “You’re not my dad. My dad would’ve been here. My dad wouldn’t have left us.”

James flinched, visibly pained, but he held his ground, trying to keep his tone calm. “I know it doesn’t make up for the past, but I want to be here for you now, Noah. I want a chance to be the dad I should’ve been.”

But Noah’s face only hardened further. “You think it’s that easy?” He scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “You think you can just waltz in here, call yourself my dad, and everything’s fine?”

James took a deep breath, his eyes pleading. “I know it’s not easy. I messed up, and I can’t change that. But I’m not the same guy I was back then. I want to be part of your life, to make things right—for you and for your mom. I want to be a father to you both.”

I stepped forward, feeling the heat of the moment. “Noah, I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be angry,” I said gently. “But James really is trying to make amends. This isn’t just about him wanting to be a rock star dad. He wants to be there for us.”

Noah shook his head, the anger in his voice rising. “What do you even know about my life? You don’t know how hard it’s been for my mom. She sacrificed everything for me while you were off living your rock star fantasy!”

“Hey, I’m not here to argue,” James said, frustration creeping into his voice. “I came to apologize and to be part of your life. I want to understand what you’ve been through. I want to be there for both of you.”

“Why should I believe you?” Noah snapped, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think a few apologies will fix everything? You left! You weren’t there for my first steps, my first words, none of it! I hate you for that!”

The room fell silent, the weight of Noah’s words hanging in the air. James took a step back, hurt flashing across his face. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said quietly, “but I’m here now. I want to be a better man, for you and your mom. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust.”

I felt a surge of emotion as I stepped closer to Noah. “I know it’s been hard for both of us. James was part of my life once, and he was good to me. I don’t expect you to trust him immediately, but maybe we can take this one step at a time?”

Noah hesitated, his anger battling with a flicker of uncertainty. “What if I don’t want you in my life?” he challenged, his voice shaking.

“I’ll respect that,” James replied, his voice steady but vulnerable. “But I’ll be here, waiting, hoping for a chance to show you that I can be the father you deserve. I want to be there for your mom too. She’s had to carry so much alone, and I regret that more than you know.”

Noah's eyes widened slightly, the surprise breaking through his anger. “You think this is a game?” he asked, his voice lowering. “You think just because you’re famous, I’m supposed to want you in my life?”

“Noah, listen,” James said, desperation creeping into his tone. “This isn’t about fame. This is about being a father. I realize now what I lost, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to rebuild what we can. I want to support both of you in any way I can.”

I felt a lump in my throat as I glanced at Noah. “You have every right to feel what you feel, sweetheart,” I added softly, trying to bridge the gap. “But we’ve been managing. It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve made it work. James can be part of that if we let him.”

Noah's anger began to falter, his voice trembling slightly. “This isn’t just about you, you know. If you want to be my dad, you have to prove it. It’s going to take more than just words.”

James nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “That’s all I ask for, buddy. I’ll be here, and I won’t give up on you or your mom. I want to be there for both of you, every step of the way.”

Noah looked between us, uncertainty still clouding his expression. “Fine,” he said at last, his voice trembling slightly. “But you have to earn my trust. I’m not just going to forgive you because you want me to.”

James took a deep breath, the resolve in his eyes shining through. “I understand that. I’m ready to show you that I’m serious about this. I’m committed to being a father to you and supporting your mom. It won’t be easy, but I’m willing to fight for it.”

The room was thick with tension, and I could see Noah grappling with his feelings. “You really think you can just come back after all these years and make everything better?” Noah challenged, his voice quiet but intense.

“I don’t expect it to be that simple,” James replied earnestly. “But I want to try. I want to make things right.”

“Then show me,” Noah said, his voice firm. “Show me you mean it.”

As I stood there, watching the two of them, a small spark of hope ignited within me. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new. Something better.

“James,” I said, breaking the silence, my gaze steady on him, “just remember that trust isn’t something you can demand; it’s something you earn. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, and it’s not going to be easy.”

He nodded, the weight of my words settling on him. “I know. I’m ready to do whatever it takes.”

I took a deep breath, trying to convey the seriousness of my thoughts. “Noah deserves to see that you’re sincere. He’s been through so much without you, and it’s not going to be easy for him to open up. But if you’re truly committed to making this work, you need to show him you’re here to stay—no matter how hard it gets.”

James looked at me, his expression earnest. “I will. I want to be there for both of you. I promise I won’t let you down again.”

“Good,” I said softly, allowing a cautious smile to creep onto my face. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Show him you mean it.”

.........

As days turned into weeks, I watched as James made a genuine effort to connect with Noah. He was patient, attentive, and slowly, I could see Noah beginning to let his guard down. They would share moments of laughter, and I could feel the distance between them shrinking.

One evening, as we were all sitting together in the living room, Noah glanced at James and said, “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

James chuckled softly, a hint of relief washing over his features. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then, in a moment that took my breath away, James turned to me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

I followed him into the kitchen, where he took a deep breath, the tension palpable in the air. “I’ve been thinking about how much I want to be a part of your lives. And not just as Noah’s father, but as your partner.”

My heart raced as I watched him kneel down on one knee, pulling out a small velvet box. “I want to make this official. I want to be a family. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at him, feeling the weight of everything we had been through together. “James…” I whispered, my voice shaky with emotion.

“Just say yes,” he urged, a hopeful smile on his face, his eyes glistening with sincerity.

Before I could even process the whirlwind of feelings inside me, I nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes, I will!”

James slipped the ring onto my finger, and as he stood up, we turned to find Noah watching us, his expression a mix of surprise and understanding.

“Does this mean you’re really going to be my dad now?” Noah asked, his voice soft but steady.

“Absolutely,” James replied, his voice filled with sincerity, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll do everything I can to earn your trust.”

For a moment, Noah hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face. But then, taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around James. “I think I can give you a chance, Dad.”

The word hung in the air, both beautiful and heavy, and I could see the emotion washing over James’s face. His eyes widened in surprise before welling with tears. “Dad… that means so much to me, buddy.”

Noah stepped back, looking a little sheepish, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Just don’t mess this up,” he said with a small smile.

“I won’t,” James promised, his voice thick with emotion. He looked at me, his heart laid bare. “I want to be here for both of you. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

In that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could build the family we always dreamed of. I stepped closer to James, taking his hand in mine, the warmth between us a silent vow to forge ahead together.

“Let’s do this,” I said softly, feeling a new chapter unfolding before us.

Then, with a surge of emotion, James pulled both Noah and me into a tight embrace. The three of us stood together, a little family forming in the warmth of love and forgiveness, ready to face whatever came next.

[my-fall-from-grace]

ok yknow what i’m gonna say it

no matter how “bad” logan has been or how “little” he deserves this 2nd year or how he’s a “pay driver” or whatever else y’all always say

he doesn’t deserve this. any of this

since the very first moment he stepped in a f1 car, he’s been treated as a joke. first it was the wtf is a kilometre jokes then rah rah eagles and now logan in the wall / fork found in kitchen / deuxmoi memes. every weekend, the commentators compare him to his teammate, ignoring the difference in experience and the way they aren’t even driving the same car and that logan was literally running last years specs multiple times. they compare him to oscar, who has driven multiple times f1 cars during test runs and is in a mclaren and the situations are not even remotely similar, ignoring that logan was promoted early, that he didn’t have much opportunity to drive f1 cars even for testing, that he was literally tossed into the deep end without any help and told to survive.

the only time they were even remotely kind to him was when they gave his car to alex. which thanks for the support or whatever but that is so backhanded i don’t even have the words to describe it.

i think we’re all coming to the terms with the reality that this will be his last year in f1. and i don’t think that’s fair for so many reasons. you promote him early, you give him a shit car, you talk bad about him in the media and you don’t promote him (lap of legends hello?) and you openly court other drivers for his seat. you disrespect him and allow others to disrespect him and that’s not right.

formula 1 is the dream for so many people. imagine achieving your dream, even if it’s in a joke of a team, even if it’s too early. but then you become the joke of a joke, you become the american, which is a bad thing. the outsider, the one who doesn’t belong. they make fun of you each weekend. they ask every day when you’ll be replaced.

(and yeah i agree. he does need to improve to have any hope of keeping his seat, f1 is brutal and it’s never been kind, and i’m not being naive and thinking oh it’s his dream and so he deserves it despite it all. i’m not saying that. what i am saying is that is a human being, just like nicholas latifi was, and some of you are too comfortable being cruel.)

speaking of being the american. they make fun of you as though that will punish the fia for putting 3 us races on the calendar. as though that will punish all the american fans who came to f1 through drive to survive. as though that will keep f1 pure and european and whatever the fuck else - they do the same to yuki and zhou and checo and lewis and even if logan’s situation is not even remotely similar to what they’ve experienced, there’s a bias to f1 that cannot be ignored.

but that’s not the point i’m trying to make. not today

this was your dream. this was your dream. and you were never allowed to enjoy it because you became the punchline of a joke the minute you accepted the seat. it was always going to end like this. you knew that.

so yeah. congrats to logan for achieving his dream of driving in f1! it’s unfortunate that he was never allowed to live it.

[starrcrossrose]

“This Is A Bad Idea”

“I Don’t Care”

Uhh HAPPY VALENTINES DAY *throws guys kissing at you and runs away*

If you wanna see more of them I have a LOT on my Patreon. Uhhhh yeah bYE —

[iguessitsjustme]

*takes you by the hand as gently as I can*

You can dislike Maya without turning her into a one dimensional villain that serves no purpose to the story.

You can dislike Maya without disparaging the story and message the show is trying to convey.

You can hate Maya without moralizing your hatred. You can just hate her. It’s okay.

[itspileofgoodthings]

School is going so great and also I am so exhausted and also I am having an existential crisis

[thefabulousfab-3]

“I can’t believe Penelope got a happy ending”

Oh my god, you’re so right it’s not like this show is a romance where every main couple is guaranteed a happy ending. Oh wait…

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

holy fuck, this gives the zenin so much more lore than what we got in the manga. like the potential is right there to have this great inter-clan generational dispute and cold war but gege just breezes past it and then gets rid of it completely.

with all this cool new shut we’re getting about them, im almost glad that megumi was born a boy. like could you imagine just how much worse the zenin would have been to him if he was a girl? they already have the whole misogyny thing going for them and then their version of jesus pops up and it turns out that it’s a girl who wields their prized technique?

god, i can’t imagine just how much more controlling they would be towards megs, although im still not sure if the whole training until ur bones fall off would still happen. i feel like naoya would be different towards megs but we also know that the zenin are totally okay with incest so i hate where that would go.

It would have been bad.

See, I think the entire training until your bones fall off thing would still happen, but there would be an added layer of cruelty towards it. Because megumi was a little boy who was being trained in a way that even adults couldn’t have handled, so of course he spent a lot of time getting hit and a lot of time crumpling under the pressure and exhaustion. There are very, very few instances where he remembers actually leaving the training room on his own two feet. He usually was pushed until he collapsed and woke up later in the room they kept for him. But if he was a little girl in the same circumstances? They’d make every “failing” about her sex. They’d blame her being a girl for it and constantly use it as a source of sneering superiority.

It would also be bad because she would very much be seen as a source of descendants. Boy Megumi wouldn’t necessarily be exempt from that, but it would happen sooner for girl Megumi.

Bloodline is very important to the Zenin. Inheriting power, techniques—they want to continue the flow of power through the generations. And most of the Zenin clan (and the wider jujutsu world) believe that Megumi is the most powerful Zenin alive right now, if not Gojo’s equal, and the only reason why hes being graded as a Grade Two sorcerer is because gojo’s purposefully sabotaging his development. Like. Mindset is a huge amount of jujutsu ability. Yuuta went from getting beaten up by normal high schoolers to having some combat ability but needing inumaki to handle a semi grade one to being the second most powerful person alive in the span of a few months. He absolutely blitzed the previous second most powerful person alive when he would have lost that same fight a few hours previous. There’s a lot of people convinced Megumi’s on Gojo’s level but he’s been keeping him on a leash since childhood. But the powers still there in his blood.

That’s power the Zenin want to pass on, regardless of gender. But as a boy, Megumi’s got a little bit more leeway—men are accepted as warriors first in the clan, and age won’t affect his ability to procreate. If megumi was a girl? She’s got that goddamn biological clock ticking down. As the ten shadows, I think the Zenin would still expect her as a warrior, but they’d also have a fucking quota she needs to fill before the clock hits zero. And they’d have some very proprietary concerns about making sure no one outside of the clan has a chance to become involved with her. They’d want her to stay within the clan with her partners. And they’d be absolutely creepy and weird about how they went about it. It’s a little bit of a mercy that Megumi’s a boy.

[tricksterlatte]

It always makes me sad whenever stories with hopeful messages or lighthearted moments are sometimes dismissed as unintelligent or weaker than tragedies. Isn't joy and hope what makes a dark journey worthwhile? Not every story needs an unhappy ending to serve as a lesson.

I will forever be a fan of stories that say hey, maybe the world is a rough place, and it will always be this way, but you can make a difference with the people who matter to you. Even if no one else will know, even if no one else will remember, the ones you loved, and who loved you in return, will remember. People who are holding onto you, even at the end of everything else. People who remind you that new beginnings are born from the ashes.

My favorite stories will always end with love, hope, and the sun rising on the horizon after hell and high waters. The world can be so cruel, but we can choose not to be as individuals. Joy is as human as anger and sorrow. Joy is what we reach for when we are at our lowest, whether we realize it or not. We want what was lost back. I love stories where the characters reach the light at the end of the tunnel, emerge on the other side, and are allowed to heal. Even if they’ve done bad things, even if they aren’t perfect, isn’t that true of all of us?

[emeraldbabygirl]

I hate it here. Not like tumblr but ya’know. I miss when I was a kid and only thought about how long I had to play with my toys because I was carefree and not of age yet to worry about adult stuff. I want time to just stop. I want it to stop I’m tired of everything I want off this ride and the only way I know how to make it all stop is forbidden. I just want to stay in bed forever and pretend I’m a kid playing with my toys again without a care in the world because I am a kid.

[chrollogy]

i want to rant

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3

[vampireknitting]

Today we learned the weeks worth of internet bullshittery was because the internet lines in my apartment building haven’t been updated since 2013.

2013.

Old lines get dampeners that need to be replaced after a year or two. Ours was 6 years old. Which means this was the “fix” we got when we first moved in. 95% of these lines had to be replaced so my darling doesn’t lose his work from home job. The one he just got a month ago.

To say I’ve been feeling stressed is an understatement. But it’s been stable and hasn’t dropped once since 5:30pm (4 hours now) which feels like a miracle when it was dropping about 10 times an hour all week. Like he’s getting written up for this but he can finish the training and do the job he’s worked his ass off for, for the last few years.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[frickityfrackityfuckingshit]

I

I need friends.

[pepprs]

crying again lol ok