#making a separate post too for reblogs

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[seasideoranges]

update he loves it (sequel to this)

[front-facing-pokemon]

greetings, everygamer! it’s not often you see a text post from me with no asks attached to it, so what gives?

@front-facing-pokemon (this blog) is rapidly approaching its end! you may have noticed if you’re paying attention to the remaining pokémon in the pokédex, but we’ve only got like TEN DAYS before we reach the END of the pokédex and i have nothing left to post on this blog. yesterday, i queued up the FINAL pokémon in the national pokédex, and have thus RUN OUT of pokémon to queue up!

so what happens now? well, that’s up for you to decide! this is That One Post where you can drop all your suggestions as to what should happen to this blog once we reach the end of the national pokédex! i’ve already heard things such as redoing the whole pokédex but this time it’s shiny (top contender right now!), back-facing pokémon, and turning this into a poll blog, so those are already in the running! if you have any other ideas (that are pokémon-related, please—and if they stick to the theme of the blog [like shinydex], that’s even better)

once i get enough suggestions and filter through for the ones that i like or that are viable, i’ll make one final poll that will decide the fate of this blog. (personally, i think the shinydex is in the lead for me) until then, enjoy the remaining posts, and thanks for stickin' around for this bumpy ride!

and finally, because plenty of folks have asked, and i’ve kept it a secret for this long, i feel you all deserve to know!:

my main blog is @kinogassa. that’s breloom’s japanese name! subject to change, and i rarely use that blog to be QUITE honest with you. buuut, if enough of you still care, then maybe i will!

a lot of you who cared already managed to sniff it out back before i could comment on posts from sideblogs, so shoutouts to you guys! for everyone else, i hope it was worth the wait(?)

i think i’ve also gotten a few other suggestions like taking requests on specific angles or whatever but that changes the flow of the blog to being request-based as opposed to queue-based ’n i dunno how i feel about that

by the way, massive shoutouts to the pokémon models ripping project, without which this entire blog would not have been possible!

i can't think of anything else to say (for now), but i'll be more active and responsive in the coming days as we try to figure out where all of this is going. see you tomorrow for whatever comes next!

[crystallizsch]

hi so Yuuyu Laya is back??? i guess??? (he's gonna be neglected </3)

this is my previous post about him (a lot of the initial ideas are changed/scrapped now) and in a nutshell:

yuuyu (he/they) is my twst tinkerbell oc and who is one of the first batch of ramshackle members

he's not yuu/mc, he is just called “yuuyu” (which is just a nickname so not his real name)

the “real yuu” in question is in their second year and is officially the ramshackle prefect/housewarden

sneak peak of my very convoluted oc lore below the cut:

[flowercrowngods]

written for @steddieas-shegoes as a follow-up to this "can you read the letter for me" post-breakup scene (@artaxlivs wrote a wonderful version over here for you to read!) cw: drug mention, OD mention

Steve's body doesn't quite feel like his own as he walks to the playground with his breath lodged firmly in his throat and his heart trying out an old beat that used to be familiar. It's struggling, though, and Steve tries not to think about it. The cold breeze of the night hits his face, making him shiver for more reasons than one.

He hasn't been to the playground for years now. It used to be their spot when they couldn't sleep, kept awake by nightmares and memories and the worst of scenarios. They would come here and sit on the swings, steal glances at each other and talk into the night air, pretending like the other wouldn't hear, and hoping that he would.

He first took Eddie's hand here, swinging as they were, and Eddie had chuckled through his tears, and then his smile hadn't left all night – nor did his hand.

Maybe it's a bad idea, meeting him here. After everything. But some part of him thinks that it might be what they need. If Eddie really is doing as badly as he said, if he really does need a break of several weeks, a tiny part in Steve (the part that would always put himself last as long as it means that the other person gets the tiniest bit of comfort) wants Eddie to have this.

Their little bubble. Or the memory of it at least.

Steve is shaking as he sits down on one of the swings, one of his hands wrapped around the cold chain, the other balled to a fist in the pocket of his jacket. He feels oddly tethered even as the world begins to sway this way and that, even as the breath lodged in his throat solidifies into a lump and he feels as though he's about to cry.

Maybe that, too, comes with the muscle memory of swinging.

He spends an odd second envisioning himself from twenty years ago, laughing and squealing with his friends as they tried to do a looping, and then jump right up into the sky above, see who got farthest.

It brings a smile to his face and a nostalgia to his heart that he hasn't felt in a while.

He feels like he hasn't felt anything in a while. And that he won't until Eddie will apologise. Until he will explain.

The steady squeak–squeak–squeak of the swing is almost eerie in the quiet of the night, but to Steve it brings a certain calm; a safety that he knows is treacherous, but he feels it tingling in his arms, because–

Eddie is there. Slow steps approaching, the gravel crunching underneath his feet that makes Steve want to look up, but, tightening his grip around the chain, he refuses.

I’m sorry for being too much and not enough at the same time.

He knows the letter by heart now, and he wants to see. He wants to see how much space Eddie will be ready to take now, how much he'll let himself be this time. It's unfair, he knows; Eddie's not fine, he should take a step towards him. And he is. He's here. He has agreed to meet with Eddie and hear him out. He has agreed to allow himself a chance at mending his own heart.

Steve feels so torn inside, in more ways than one, that he feels paralysed and petrified and frozen. Part of him wants nothing more than to leap up and take Eddie in his arms, tell him that they'll figure it out, that they can do it, that they can make it work. That second chances are just a thing that happen in life. That it doesn't have to be one and done.

That's another reason he won't look up. There are so many reasons.

"Hey," Eddie's voice cuts through his racing thoughts, though it sounds so gentle and fragile that Steve wonders if it's not Eddie who's been cut.

The steps have stopped, the gravel no longer crunching, and Steve can see a worn pair of Chuck Taylor's in his vision. Not Eddie's usual armour. It throws him off, makes him want to cry, makes him shiver in a way he can't blame on the breeze anymore.

"Thank you," he continues, sounding even more gentle, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, no longer wanting to hear that voice, not when it sounds like that. So bare. So raw. So vulnerable. "Can I sit with you?"

Steve swallows hard, and doesn't have to consider at all. He nods. Gravel crunches again, then twin chains squeak, the old wood creaking and groaning a little above them, but Steve knows it'll hold. It always does. While Steve is gently swaying, one foot anchored to the ground, Eddie remains impossibly still.

Maybe they're both about to break.

After a while, Eddie speaks up again with the words that Steve has been longing to hear for four years. "I'm sorry."

They're not nearly as satisfying as he always hoped. The world is still broken.

"Okay," he rasps, not really knowing what he's supposed to say. What Eddie wants from this. What he wants from this. If either of them still have the right to want things.

"I had this speech prepared," Eddie continues, still entirely still aside from the way his voice wavers, his laugh a bit breathless and bitter at himself. "But... I didn't... I didn't think you'd come, to be honest."

"Funny," Steve says before he can stop himself, cutting off the rest before it can leave his mouth and make it worse than it is. Coming from the one who left.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says again, and Steve is already tired of it.

So he says nothing, and his silence seems to mute Eddie.

"What does it mean?" he asks eventually, still not daring to look over at the man who used to hold his heart in his hands and then threw it down the quarry before leaving town without another word for four years. But he can feel Eddie's eyes on him. "That you're sorry, what– what does that mean."

"It means that I..." Eddie starts and trails off, considering his words in a way that makes Steve wish he wouldn't.

Just tell me. Take up space. Be enough. Be too much. Just tell me.

"It means that I wish I hadn't left, but that I know I had to in order to find out that living without you is not living at all. It means that I know that I broke your heart and your soul and your future, maybe, for this need of mine to just... find out. To run away. To be someone I could choose to be. And, God, it wasn't worth it. None of it. And still it happened, still I did it, still I know that I just... I had to do it. Being the person I was then, it... I just. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this. None of it. And if I could, I would turn back time and just tell you. Or sleep it off. Get help, talk with Wayne, anything. Anything that wouldn't lose me the... That wouldn't lose me you. And I'm sorry."

When Eddie finishes, his voice is hoarse, and Steve can't look away any longer. He opens his eyes and prepares to meet Eddie's beside him even in the dark of night, but he finds that Eddie is looking up instead, towards the sky where the moon is busy painting a cloud in silver light as it moves to cover it incrementally, and Steve takes a second to look back down at Eddie and watch him for a second.

His hands are clenched around the swing's chain, and they're shaking a little – so minutely that Steve's not sure if he's imagining it at all, but he feels like he knows Eddie enough to know that he's shaking, too. That they're in this together still. His thick leather boots are replaced with the worn, dark red Chuck Taylor's, and he's wearing a pair of jeans that aren't ripped at the knees. His black denim jacket is plain, no pins, no patches, no rips or tears or any sign of Eddie.

It leaves Steve feeling bereft, untethered once more; and isn't that unfair. It's not fair for Eddie to come here looking like this, looking so open and plain and vulnerable – how is Steve supposed to talk to him now. To talk at him, knowing his words will only meet armour. Armour that will make Eddie leave again.

How is he supposed to say anything when Eddie might not leave again. Or when he never came back in the first place?

"What happened to you?" he asks, the apology forgotten at this need to know. This need to protect, even after all these years. This need to be Steve and Eddie. If only just for the duration of a question.

Beide him, Eddie huffs and looks away from the now covered moon, meeting Steve's gaze with those big brown eyes that look so much bigger now. So much... sadder.

"I've spent all my life knowing who I didn't want to be. Knowing what to be against. Knowing what to hate. And then I– Then I met you. And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that. And I didn't see, I never... I never quite saw that, Stevie. Because that sad, scared, angry teenager part of me still wanted to hate and rebel and to leave and to be someone. And it didn't matter who, what kinda person, just... Just someone. So I left, and I– God, I lost myself. That self that you brought out. That self that wanted a life full of, like, love, y'know? Not hate. Not anger. Not... Not battle vest, leather armour, sticking it to the Man. But when I realised, it was too late."

"When did you?"

Eddie breathes out heavily. "Last year? Friend of mine OD-ed. Lou. Found her in the hotel, just..."

He breaks off, and Steve can see him blinking away tears just as he blinks away tears of his own.

"I called the band in this, like, full-on panic attack. Told them it was over. Told them I didn't want this anymore. They– They talked me down, because they're great guys. Helped me through it. All of it. Jeff told me to send the letter. Said, 'If you wanna find yourself again, Ed, you gotta start where you last had it, and you gotta start sending the letters.' Best fucking guy I know."

Eddie is smiling through the tears, telling all of this like it's not worth telling at all – like they're not both crying silent tears at it.

Like Steve's not understanding what he's saying. You made me into someone I liked being. and I did write to you, I just never sent them.

"You wrote me letters?"

Eddie nods. "All the fucking time. Wanted you there with me. Stayed sober for you until I... Until I couldn't anymore, because I'd left you, and I left this fucking swing set, and I... God, I'm so sorry, Steve." Eddie is really crying now, hands covering his face, and it's not really a decision at all when Steve gets up to stand between his legs, wrapping his arms around Eddie's shoulders and letting him cry into his chest.

Eddie wraps around him almost instantly, and Steve holds him, running his hands through his hair, shushing him gently, just allowing Eddie to cry for as long as he needs.

And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that.

You let me be that.

"I'm sorry," Eddie repeats, over and over, and Steve finds himself saying, "It's okay, Eddie, it's okay. I forgive you."

They stay like that for a while. Until Eddie calms down enough to breathe normally again, and even longer still before Steve slowly, gently pulls away – ready to move back in and hold him some more. Even though he shouldn't. Maybe.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," he says at last. "And I'm glad you're taking a break. Glad you sent that letter, too."

"Mm-hmm, me too."

Silence settles between them once more as Steve finds his way back to his swing; and that's when he starts thinking again.

"When you left, I was devastated. And I couldn't even tell anyone, not even Robin. It's like... It's like when you left, you took away that part of me, y'know? I didn't know how to talk about you. The words were gone, or something. And then you... You wrote your songs. And it was double unfair, because not only you get to leave, you also got to talk about it? To, like, thousands of people? I never... I still– it's.... It's like I still don't know how to talk about it. About you. Or to you. There are things I wanna say, but... You said them all, I guess. You got to say them."

"Steve," Eddie breathes, and he sounds just as devastated as Steve feels. "I never meant to– I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No?"

"No! No, you... No."

Their eyes meet again, and Steve swallows hard again. "Tell me."

"What?"

"What you were gonna say. What you want to say."

Eddie breathes deeply and lets it all out in one long breath. "You didn't deserve that," he says at last. "You deserve someone who treats you right. Someone who lets you be who you want to be, too, and who will bring you flowers, and who will buy you an Winnebago and get you everything you could ever wish for. You deserve someone who's not broken, someone who'll do anything for you because they realise that you're everything they could ever dream of and more."

Steve sighs and feels frustrated again, because Eddie still doesn't get it, Eddie still puts him on that pedestal and made him out of reach for himself to the point where he had to leave because Steve was already gone for him.

"Eddie," he says, and his heart breaks a little when the other man flinches a little at his sharp tone. "I don't ask for that, I would never ask for that, God. I just... I just want a simple, sometimes complicated, sometimes dramatic but ultimately worth it life. I want a– a boyfriend who will say weird shit sometimes because he's a fucking nerd, and who will discover things about himself when he's with me, and go to bed with that smile that tells me he's safe with me. And happy. I don't want anyone throwing away anything, I don't need anyone giving me everything, I just..." I just want you.

But the words don't quite make it past his lips, too much history forcing them shut. It's been four years.

"I don't want to make you into someone. I don't want the weight of that, the responsibility that one wrong look could make someone's entire life fall in on itself. I just..." I just want you.

And that's when he realises what he's always sort of known. That Eddie doesn't even need to ask for a second chance for Steve to hand it to him on a silver platter.

He stands again and comes between Eddie's legs again.

"I forgive you. But I want to talk. About all of this. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to know how I can help you, I want to start over, I want it to be right this time. I don't want you to ever run away again. I want you to talk to me, Eddie. And to take me with you next time you need to run. Because you don't get to run from me, okay? You don't– You don't get to do that, Eddie Munson."

Eddie looks up at him, the moonlight catching on the tears in his eyes, making them look even bigger, and Steve wishes he wouldn't look so small.

"You– But... But I'm so... broken." His hands flail a little, an aborted motion that shows nothing of his usual energy.

Steve's hands find his way to Eddie's cheeks if only to stop him from running away again.

"And I'm not gonna fix you. But I can hold you through it, and stay right where you need me to. That's what people do when–" He cuts himself off before he can say it.

But Eddie understands anyway if the way his eyes widen even more, welling up against the moonlight, is any indication at all.

"Still?"

Steve nods, his thumb stroking Eddie's cheek tenderly, wiping away the fresh tears. "Still. All you had to do was come back."

Eddie falls forward, then, and buries his face in Steve's stomach. It's not running away. It's quite the opposite, actually, and Steve holds him as long as he can.

The night is filled with many more tears as four years of anger and sadness and lostness finally find words to express them.

It's dawn when he says goodbye to Eddie at Wayne's new trailer, waving at the man drinking his coffee on the porch. Eddie holds Steve in a tight embrace for a whole minute before either of them are ready to let go, and only with the promise of Same place, same time tonight.

It's not a new beginning yet, but it's the closure they both need before the new beginning will happen in due time.

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

Amity Park: US MOST HAUNTED!

Amity Park: The Faceblind City!

except the westons

[platoapproved]

been thinking for a while about tumblr and the things i do and don't sort of allow myself to post or reblog and what freedom i want in different spaces etc. all of which is a long leadup to saying i have made for myself a sideblog for things i wouldn't feel comfortable putting on my main blog for a variety of reasons. if any of my mutuals want the url so you can follow, just send an ask or message and i'll pass it along.

but also, if i know you irl, i will likely (with all possible love) say no, because the whole point is making a place to post stuff that's too vulnerable or embarrassing for like, people who KNOW me. if you're someone i met online but kind of know irl now too it's fine to ask but it might still be a no.

i don't want anyone worrying this blog is going to be for venting or mean stuff it's really mostly just going to be for nsfw or again things that are too personal for people who know me as a person but fine for strangers on the internet because that's how my brain works.

[gibbearish]

hey protip if seeing clearly is hard but possible you do indeed need glasses. its not just for people who can never see clearly. if you can correct you vision through effort then there is something you are putting in the effort to correct. people with true 20/20 vision don't have to work for it. also the vision tests arent a test you're supposed to win, it's not measuring if you can tell what letter that is if you squint, its supposed to test how blurry it is. if you can tell that its an E but its a really blurry E and you only know its an E because the blur follows the shape of an E then for the purposes of this test, you cannot see the E. if "blurring your eyes" or "unfocusing" is, for you, relaxing, rather than something you need to put effort into actively doing, um. congrats and also sorry

[buttercuparry]

This is Taher AbuAqlain, a Palestinian Civil Engineer from Gaza

My father is a cancer patient who has been evacuated lately to receive therapy, my mother went is a companion

I have also been evacuated lately

Other family members are still in Rafah while they have no place to go after their area has been ordered to evacuate

Please help our family by sharing the link:

[dogbunni]

don't worry guys!!!

he has been put under supervision

[normal-nightmare]

What i wouldn't do to make a jaydick webweave except I have absolutely no idea where to start with one LOL

[l0ganberry]

Wally got a bit too excited and fully prepared himself for summer. He does look very happy though.

[asdfghjklfancat]

I just watched Gravity Falls for the first time recently, and I related so damn hard with Mabel!!!

Part of my response to trauma is age regression and dissociating into my own fantasy world to not have to deal with reality.

Unfortunately, I can't grow and HEAL without working through my traumas. If I can't heal, I will perpetuate the abuse that was done to me. I find myself responding in ways similar to the person who abused me because I am triggered.

I can't stop the cycle of abuse if I don't work on myself. If it was only about me, I wouldn't care about getting better because it's hard, and I'm coping semi-okay without having to put in any work.

I get better because I want meaningful relationships, I want kids, I want to exist with other people fully without having a breakdown because I've been in reality too long.

Mabel cares about the people around her. She might have difficulty with selfishness at times, but she's 12 and doesn't realize it's hurting people until she's already hurt them. She also has the ability to ask for what she needs but sometimes doesn't think about what people might have to give up to meet her needs in the way she is asking.

I am autistic and really relate to that. I try to ask for what I need, but sometimes, I don't consider how that would impact others. I've had people in the past just do what I'm asking and snap when it hurts them because they thought I did it maliciously. I simply did not see it from their perspective.

I've learned to ask if there would be any drawbacks to fulfilling my needs in this way and, if so, how to brainstorm a solution with the people involved.

It doesn't make the times I didn't less hurtful, and it doesn't mean I won't make any more mistakes.

It means I took the truth that I hurt someone and grew from it. It means I didn't want to hurt them by miscommunicating, but I also wasn't going to let them hurt me from the miscommunications.

The solution was never "don't ask for the things you need" it is "there is a better way, you have to keep learning".

To grow up is to learn

To grow up is to make mistakes

To grow up is to change

To grow up isn't to avoid the truth. It's facing the truth and trying to do better for you and others.

The truth is disheartening

The truth is scary

The truth is unfair

The truth can be a problem, and ignoring problems never makes them get better. It only continues to hurt.

It will take a lot of work to heal. I will have times where I question if it's worth it and sink back into old habits. I deserve the chance to try again.

I deserve the belief that I can do different this time, for us.

I can do it for the people I love

I can do it for the people I will love

I can do it for the people I have loved

I can do it for the people I have hurt

I can do it for total strangers whose day might be a little brighter

I can do it for my future self

That is the choice Mabel made that Bill Cipher thought took a will of titanium to choose.

Mabel chose friends. Bill Cipher didn't consider that an option.

Community with others is always an option, you just have to face the truth.

You will be wrong sometimes

You will hurt people

You can choose to apologize

You can choose to change

The truth is in both sides of the story, yours and the person you hurt. You just have to look for it.

[toytulini]

Okay i have yet to see a post about this that isnt filled with ppl being Annoying as Fuck on it, but,

theyve found wreckage of the submersible, it imploded (thank god, thats better than a drawn out suffocation over the course of several days, implosion means it was pretty much instantaneous) and the us navy have revealed they heard a weird sound on sunday from about where communication with the sub was lost, that was probably the sound of the implosion, [implied that they didnt say anything cos they didnt want to jump to conclusions without evidence of a wreckage, if there was a chance they were still alive.] no idea what the banging sounds were.

I do hope rescue efforts are extended to the migrants off the coast of greece, and am angry and horrified at their mistreatment, and that the media clearly cares less for their fates than that of the billionaires on the sub.

also, while i have you here,

The difference between a submersible and a submarine is not that one is safer. The titan was a submersible that was unsafe, but that is not because it was a submersible.

A submarine (or sub) is a watercraft capable of independent operation underwater.

A submersible is a watercraft designed to operate underwater, usually supported by a nearby surface vessel, platform, shore team or sometimes a larger submarine.

submarines generally dont go as deep as our deepest submersibles, but some can be down there for months at a time bc it is like. a self sufficient Ship. not all submersibles can go crazy deep, but to my knowledge, the only crewed vessels that can go that deep, are submersibles. (Alvin, deepsea challenger, limiting factor, trieste, fendouzhe or "striver").

[natasha-in-space]

Hey so I see you reblogging lots of RE content and I wonder if it's okay to ask if you have any fics for it maybe? It's okay if you don't, just wanted to check in '^^

So, uh, funny answer? Lots and lots in my private drafts. Also lots of RP lately (unironically working on an art piece for it rn bc it's fun). I write for it pretty much daily at this point, haha. RE4R sucked me back in, and I'm staying put so far. But that's all for me because I'm insecure about posting my stuff without heavy tinkering and editing to make it good 💀

But honest answer? I am actually working on a full Leon fic! And yes, this one I do plan on posting once it's done. I have no idea when it'll get finished though, because I am interchangeably working on it along with the Saeyoung one... Also, it's at <3 500 words currently, and I'm only, like, about halfway done through the plot.

For my MM followers: Saeyoung fic is at <4 000 words currently (yes I know, it was supposed to be a drabble. Things went out of control. There's no going back now). I do hope it'll be worth the wait! And yes I am working on it! My love for MM is not going anywhere.

I am a bit of a slow writer, admittedly, and real life has been kicking my butt lately.

[qprstobin]

Absolutely wild that the two teen characters that are actually big siblings, and are canonically good big siblings, so often get those relationships erased by fandom (Jonathan) or just straight up makes them terrible (Nancy).

Like protecting Will (and later El) is straight up Jonathan's main motivator for a majority of the seasons? There are fics to be written about Jonathan allowing himself to be more than a second parent too young and getting to be a dumb teenager himself but that's rarely what people are doing in fics.

Mike and Nancy certainly argue a lot more (though is it surprising with how head strong they both are), but also show to care about each other SO INCREDIBLY MUCH. We see her be kind to her brothers friends and watch out for them too. Just because Nancy is a less traditionally nurturing character (which i love about her!) Doesn't make her a bad older sibling lol.

Do I think that Steve definitely stepped up into an older brother role for Dustin, and even to an extent Max and the Sinclair's? (Tho Erica ofc already has an older brother in Lucas that she loves very much miss "i went to every one of your games but the one that mattered") yes I do, even though we only get fragments of it on screen. I love fics where he older brothers the whole party, too!

But like, you don't have to erase the canonical sibling relationships (one of which is so so so so important to the characters and the plot!!) in order to do so. People can have multiple older siblings they look up too lol.