#OH okay so i have something

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

#watching ppl go from being like ''support neurodivergent ppl~~!" #to being like ''if this is going to give u a panic attack ur fuckken stupid'' #like..... gets me #yeah man. i know im going to be triggered by it . in the old fashioned term. it is GOING to give me a panic attack. it's pretty much certai #and i shouldn't have to tell u about what i have survived for you to be okay with that. #you can just trust that i ALSO don't want me to react to it. i'm not gonna be having a FUN time. #dismissing that bc you think it's stupid.... like is the whole problem. #these sounds are workshopped by entire teams of people to get you to pay attention and move quickly. #they arent meant to be fun and exciting. #OBVIOUSLY it's gonna set ppl off. #but yeah there's something so fuckken demeaning about ppl being like. well that trigger isn't valid bc u haven't undergone X #dude i have ptsd bc i was abused as a child. like plain and simple. the fact im 30 and afraid of the dark tells you how bad it was. #i shouldn't have to ask u for permission to be mentally ill. #the reason it's a fucking disorder and not a fucking choice is that I DO NOT CONTROL IT. #like how is it any different from when ppl are like ''oh public speaking isn't that scary'' like FOR YOU #for YOU this isn't scary. now if i could fucking eat my own amygdala...

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 4 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 4 spoilers #mel is so cute but mal fits with the rest of the draconias better #eng version no you were supposed to save me not make things MORE confusing #anyway raverne huh #that uh. that sure feels like it's supposed to evoke raven doesn't it. #what does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN #hold on i'm going to flail around embarrassingly about anime character theories now #(okay first a disclaimer: i do think we need to sit down as a fandom at some point) #(and have a discussion about exactly what is actual canon versus meta speculation versus jokes) #(because i think there has been. some confusion. over that re:crowley and raverne specifically) #(but i do feel justified in being like THEY ARE PROBABLY CONNECTED SOMEHOW RIGHT?! right now) #like i really don't think it's as simple as crowley being raverne but with memory loss or something #(and if they pull that on us i'm going to need an EXTREMELY good explanation to go with it to justify that) #they've gone out of their way several times now to make a point about them acting and sounding different and it feels very intentional to m #(and once again: i super 100% absolutely do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him with the top half of his face covered) #i just think the contradictions are a lot stronger than the connections right now but there ARE some connections and i'm 👀ing at them #to be fair the connections are mostly meta like crowley being diablo/raverne being evocative of raven #also the general 'raverne mysteriously disappeared and apparently had distinctive eyes' thing #versus 'crowley's past is unknown and he never shows his eyes' #(i will argue that crowley DOES seem to have some kind of canon connection to briar valley) #(since he is clearly some sort of fae and the masks are a briar valley thing) #and that is kinda it right now isn't it #okay hold on i had to delete some tags because i used too many (thanks tumblr for letting me know and not just vanishing them OH WAIT) #so tl;dr: i'm in the 'crowley is connected to raverne somehow but it's more complicated than just him being in disguise' camp personally #but that will probably change as we get more info and also don't take this as an anti-speculation thing because i love theories HOORAY

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 2

🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie

This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window. 

It’s not happening. 

Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his. 

Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light. 

It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening. 

“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone. 

Who’s hurting you, Steve? 

Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.

He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and— 

“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.” 

“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will. 

He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again. 

He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so… 

So much like Eddie’s fucking problem. 

He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe. 

It’s just not tight. 

“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it. 

“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?” 

He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm. 

But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time. 

He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—

“I don’t know what.” 

It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again. 

Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small. 

“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.” 

Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks. 

Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about. 

God, he never did like blood. 

“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?” 

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.” 

“Her.” 

Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right? 

“What?” 

“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”

Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own. 

“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.” 

That's... really fucking endearing, actually. 

And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet. 

Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?

He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out. 

“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.

Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion. 

“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?” 

Oh no. 

“Why’m I in y—“ 

“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?” 

Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer. 

Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too. 

Past all of it. 

Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house. 

But he can’t. So he breathes. 

At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people. 

But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers. 

“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?” 

“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.” 

And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now. 

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel. 

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view. 

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice. 

It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe. 

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?” 

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.

“Ed?” 

“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.” 

“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again. 

“Ed. Are you in trouble?” 

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“ 

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?” 

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.  

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.” 

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?” 

Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”

“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.” 

It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole. 

He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side. 

“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door. 

It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this. 

“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much. 

He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on. 

Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now. 

Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?

“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask. 

Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me? 

Somehow, Eddie manages a smile. 

Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen. 

Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now. 

Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away. 

Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break. 

“Blue, you with me?”

Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.

“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?” 

“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest. 

Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder. 

“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady. 

“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.” 

“I know.” But maybe I will. 

“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.” 

Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.” 

Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.” 

Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is. 

Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.” 

It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home. 

This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible. 

And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie. 

He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back. 

Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch. 

He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear. 

“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.” 

Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.

Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up. 

Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away. 

It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not… 

He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier. 

These things don’t happen. They don’t! 

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.” 

Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately. 

In. Hold. Out. Hold. 

He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void. 

He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.

Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad. 

Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. 

Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue. 

He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong. 

Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve. 

“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.” 

“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right. 

“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue. 

“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds. 

“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers. 

”I want my mom.“ 

”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?” 

Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away. 

He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama. 

”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.” 

And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”

Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared. 

And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted. 

And now… 

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?” 

Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this. 

“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…” 

“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”

And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment. 

He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that? 

But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk. 

“Thank you.” 

Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie. 

“For, uh. This.” 

“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.” 

Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.” 

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness. 

“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation. 

He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out. 

“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.

He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking. 

Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small. 

Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again. 

Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words. 

“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?” 

“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“ 

It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again. 

“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?” 

Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is. 

“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug. 

Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt. 

“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest. 

Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again. 

“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.

More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment. 

“Not gonna break, Eddie.” 

“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.” 

The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them. 

“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”

It soothes the urge to scream.

Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth. 

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car. 

Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips. 

“Later, Ed.” 

And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real. 

But it did. And it is. 

And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside. 

He has a phone call to make.

🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)

addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #this is so long i am SORRY #i hope tagging y'all was okay (and equally i'm hoping i missed nobody but also it is 3am) #who did this to you #most of y'all will know most of the beginning already maybe i should have split it up but i wanted y'all to have Something New too #and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :( #dio words

[singsweetmelodies]

Katie, I have to tell you, your tags have to be the funniest thing ever, they always make me laugh!!! You’re the sweetest 💕

anon, YOU are in fact the sweetest for this message 🥺🥺❤️❤️ i have been opening my inbox on and off since yesterday just to stare at it and be like 🥰. ahhhh this is just so kind of you!! i am so glad i can make you laugh, love ❤️ that's exactly what we're here for on this hellsite, yeah? so ily ily ilysm for validating me like this mwah mwah <3333

#asks & answers #anon #loveliest lovely anons ❤️ #listen i genuinely adore you for this because going insane in the tags is one of my favourite things ever #so to hear that people appreciate and enjoy it?!! blushing. grinning. doing the charles cute head duck thing #ILYSM AHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😘😘😘 #also just for you i shall try and add something particularly insane but also funny in the tags for this particular answer #let's see #OH okay so i have something #my brain has been rather dead lately when it comes to writing (😭 i know) but i DID write the most hilarious galex line earlier today #it was all about how british people are pretty mich universally shite at flirting #(i would know i am british) #(and before anyone comes @ me with 'omg what are you on about british people and british accents are so sexy!!') #(love. british people flirt by being mean to your crush. like a ten year old pulling pigtails on the playground) #(the silent treatment is common in the great british courting process) #(genuinely half the relationships i've been in *i* have no idea how i got there because i certainly do not know how to flirt) #(i only get drunk and insult people and somehow we end up making out) #ANYWAY back to galex. yeah so i essentially wrote a bit about george realising he likes alex #and going to pierre for tips bcs oh fuck george definitely does Not know how to flirt with his best friend lmfao #and then he tries what pierre suggests and it just backfires massively (george u painfully british disaster) and it's hilarious #ANYWAY YES ANON ILY YOU ARE THE BEST THANKS SM FOR INDULGING MY INSANITY ILY ALWAYS #😘😘😘😘❤️❤️ #also! #🏎 galex #because i did that hehehehe #i'm truly insane. mwah

[atlas-five]

Alice inviting Sam and Celia to the show seems less like trying to fuck w Sam or his relationship (or even flirting w then both) and more like she's fucking lonely. she might have genuinely wanted them there, cuz, y'know, hanging out w people is how you make and keep friends generally. like,,,, before Celia it sounded like Sam and Alice were chillin' at work and had regular banter but since Celia showed up Sam's attention is all on her and hes started treating every interaction with Alice as an annoyance (and just generally being grumpy, if you consider his interaction w Gwen that one time). plus it's not like Gwen has time for Alice to even mess w her anymore. everything is changing and I don't think Alice is taking it well

#someone correct me if im wrong cuz my memory is honestly horrendous #but yeah #Alice isnt okay and i think she might really want/need the support #and now? after that shitshow w the dead-but-not-really lady? oh girl we fucked up now #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol #tmagp #BTW THIS IS NOT DUNKING ON CELIA #shes got something going on for sure but so far shes actually been really cordial to alice and i appreciate that #even when alice is weird about her having a kid she just takes it in stride #sam however i think is going to snap #that boy is on his last legs i just think hes good at hiding it

[katierosefun]

pyramid game is such a perfect little drama for the sapphics because you've got a whole demented psychological thriller going on about high school girls creating a whole fake social class system that results because one bored little princess bitch thought it'd be funny, and you've got all these dynamics that can only be boiled down to some kind of love story because like. ye lim and eun jeong's dynamic? the princess idol and her athlete bodyguard. soo ji and ja eun's dynamic? the cold mastermind and the compassionate heart. even whatever da yeon and seol ha have got going on? typical hitter and loyal dog dynamic. the list can go on.

#caroline talks #pyramid game #like da yeon is an awful person but as soon as seol ha spoke up. like her first words were about how she hates ha rin #for having da yeon in the palm of her hand. like. okay. gay. #i also think a lot about ha rin and ja eun. like i despise ha rin so much but there's something distinctly gay about that behavior. #oh you see ja eun happy? you're obsessed that ja eun's happy? and now you want to ruin her for it? #i know that deeper down it's all a commentary about social class and how the uber wealthy and uber powerful will find new and creative ways #to screw over people who come from different socioeconomic backgrounds. because at the end it's really all about power #and how ha rin cannot fucking STAND not being seen as the silent ruler of the class #this got away from me. yes it's all about power. #it is also a bit about gay lust. it can be both <3

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 209

Now Jason was planning on, well, a lot of things, when he came back to Gotham. He had a lot of plans, several of which had to do with the old man and even more that had to do with cleaning up Crime Alley, making it safer and all that. 

What he was not planning on was to find some sort of lab in the basement of where he was planning on setting up a safehouse. Nor was he planning on finding several literal children in cages inside said lab. Oh and Lazarus Waters- but children! With muzzles! Being experimented on!

Now he’d like to say he had a plan in what happened next, but if he’s honest everything had gone Green and he didn’t remember what happened next, only that he’s back home with said children and covered in blood. Oh and everything smells of smoke. 

… And apparently there’s more of these things dotted around Crime Alley with the rest of these kids, er, siblings? Family? Fright does mean family? Okay kids, he’s not turning into Bruce but you can stay here while he deals with this… however long that takes. 

He better not be turning into Bruce he swears-

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Liminal Class #Ghosts are Dragons #Halfa Jason Todd #Not that he knows that #The kids are sticking with him because he registers as Safe #And look they WERE teens but they’re not anymore and they’re TINY and in an UNKNOWN space with only like half their memories #They’re taking what they can get #Jason is very concerned the first time he witnesses them going partially dragon (even if they can’t do a full transformation yet) #He is freaking out way more when he Does fully transform in one of the later labs with no warning thx to one of the scientists shooting #something at him #Now the Bats are scrambling to find out about Hood because this no longer looks like crime lord bullshit #and more like a non-human entity whose offspring has been stolen and is attacking to get them back #Well from what can be seen from the Ecto spikes messing with tech #Jason has no clue how he ended up taking care of 13+ (why do you have so many shadow clones Kwan) children #Jason: Oh god my hoard is children I can never let anyone know #His Merry Men: Okay this is the safest person to leave our kids with and work for he would very much kill for any child #New Goon: Okay but are we gonna talk about the- #Merry Men: No we don't talk about the fact that he turns into a giant dragon and if anyone asks No He Doesn't

[zecoritheweirdone]

hehehehehhooo,, decided to draw some hermits as the mystery skulls animated gang!! why? uhhh mostly just 'cause.

special thanks to the ibaaf server for helping me pick the roles! gem is vivi,, false is arthur,, pearl is lewis,, and etho is mystery!!

better pic of pearl under the cut, where you can how lazy i am,,ms ksmsksjs

#my art #hermitcraft #mystery skulls animated #falsesymmetry #geminitay #ethoslab #pearlescentmoon #falsesymmetry fanart #geminitay fanart #ethoslab fanart #pearlecentmoon fanart #this wasn't supposed to have this much effort put into it. and then it took five hours. #chose etho's role first cuz i really like the kitsune etho headcanon #(yes his collar has a maple leaf on it) #and the lil deadbeats are a bunch of lil tillys!! #we also gave roles to some of the other characters. bdubs is shiromori and cub is reverb/???/possession guy #sorry guys; you're antagonists now 😔 #actually i don't think cub would mind this #also i refuse to think any harder about what bdubs being shiromori means. they're both plants okay. #it was either this or joel #or that one sock monster guy from season six #joe and cleo are duet and chloe respectively. joe as duet fits. cleo as chloe does not but also no one else really fits chloe anyway so idc #no more wanting an undead boyfriend.... THEY are the undead boyfriend now. #i think we had uncle lance as iskall??? still not too sure #they both have beards tho. that's something #oh!! also rendog is galaham bc i said so. #anyway. please watch msa it's so so good. #(or watch hermitcraft if you haven't already. a new season started a while back it's the perfect time to join) #not sure if i'll draw more of this;; this is less an au and more just me being silly #but i hope y'all like it regardless!!

[emry-stars-art]

Find the mer au masterpost here 💕

#jellyNeil is getting SO CLOSE to the breakthrough of starting to understand speech #but for now. it’s doing it’s best #so here is where we #playing with the timelineeeeeee #does sharkdrew meet jellyNeil before or after finning?? #kinda breaks my heart to imagine jellyNeil trying desperately with its newly burgeoning intelligence to understand what happened #why the shark can’t swim as well anymore and why he seems hurt and why he’s so much more angry #where the fin went #why the shark won’t let Neil touch the place the fin used to be #Neil realizing oh. something horrific happened #which heartbreak USUALLY means I should add it. we suffer together #okay byeeeee have a good day #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #oops all mers au #sharkdrew #jellyneil #jellyfish #digital #chibi

[unexpectedbrickattack]

short king and his shorter kings

#pizza tower #pepstavo #peppinoise #i sketched it out WEEKS ago #but w me almost finishing this godawful comm i felt compelled to do something for Me #i cannot wait to finish; i have a couple of forms sitting there collecting dust but im too overwhelmed w this shitty comm- #-to even attempt to tackle those. i need to scrub my brain and start fresh. but after i finish it lmao #anyway hey. hope everyones okay and vibin #dont take this seriously but also. heehee. #in hindsight i feel like i need to bump gustavos head up a lil bit but weh #not too compelled to fix it. #additional context that i think is fun; gus is just a touchy dude and he finds all kinds of reasons to pick peppino up #and every time peppino is like SO flustered and shocked bc itll be in the view of customers #like some sports team wins and its on their tvs and ppl are hootin n hollerin #and like people will notice and keep cheering and its alot hes like oh my GOD u cannot keep doing that im going to explode and then die #noise will do it to prove he can do it and then his back snaps in two bc he weighs like 80 lbs (36kg) #but for like a brief moment of time he is facefirst in tummy and hes ecstatic #theo it is not funny to be rushed to the er bc u broke ur back #also suggestive (but funny i prommy) #but he absolutely would be that like girl who needed a neckbrace from having her gf accidentally sit on her face too hard #hes like ouuuuhhghh....that was worth it. how long will it take to recover doc bc i wanna do it again :) #meanwhile. i think if that happened peppino would literally go into hiding. ur not finding him. #it would literally haunt him that he nearly killed this rat w his fat ass #as if this is not the way both gus and noise would like to go out. it would be peaceful for them i think #anyway #runs away cutely; see u in two weeks maybe

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again #the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys #saw #well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand #know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows #your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman. #there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn #thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down #something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness #the transformation of a man into a monster #and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption #sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this #do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind. #the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore #it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating #fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn #i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him #until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else #well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God #where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium #anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus #maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man #i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed #if only he hadn't been weaponized first #god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already #but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there #rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts #ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly #cat chat

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck #good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen #im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3 #writeblr #the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this'' #and like also #''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist #i was <3 punctured <3 during mine #and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion'' #so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3 #she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh #ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance #i'd crash on the table #like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it #and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop! #and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just #woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes #she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room #from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing #and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying #and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap #with this terrible memory #i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like #that was too many liters #and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home #i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after #that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty #you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it #while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED #and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm sorry I let down my guard.

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#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #xue yang #xiao xingchen #God DAMN this scene was brutal. Season 2 episode 2 is almost nothing but misery and anguish #Helena by Nickle Creek does not quite fit the comic's vibe but it is absolutely a Xue Yang song so I linked it. #The change from “Helena don't walk away...(gentle)” to “HELENA. DON'T WALK AWAY (threat)” is fantastic. #And “Don't waste your pretty sympathy - I'll always be just fine”. Xue Yang core. #Okay now for the real meat. Disclaimer first: *I really like XY.* I think he's a great character. I think his actions consistently- #come from a place of deep trauma. While his reactions and actions put him in a villainous role he is still human about his hurt #and what I'm about to say is NOT intended to be a statement of causality or villianize a group of misunderstood people. #So with that said...Man oh man does Xue Yang have a lot of BPD traits. More that just 'character who is chronically manipulative'. #The impulsivity and emotional reactions and seeking stability makes him feel like he needs that control. What other choice is there? #The part that really gets me is how he *wants* to be safe and happy. But his past experiences tell him how thats impossible #He's the kind of person who goes 'if you don't like me then you better hate me for something substantial". All (pos) or All (neg) #''Love me entirely or Hate me. But don't you dare leave me or forget about me.'' #Not at all comfortable saying 'BPD coded'. Im not a psychiatrist. Just that he has TRAITS. Feel free to disagree or add your thoughts. #ppl with bpd also are not a monolith and everyone has very different experiences. Xue yang is very complex. People more so.

[suntails]

loyalty

#bashing my skull thru the floor #its so fun how both of these two would do ANYTHING for malleus and are loyal to their core but like. it manifests differently #like okay. the school vignette where its sebek doing Everything for malleus and silver is more hands-off. the one where he sees jamil w kali #m and is like 'okay yea my way is better' like. that mentally difference translated into the Everything of them is so INCHRESTING #sebek is much more the type to have blinders on and to immediately jump in to what malleus is saying. silver is more levelheaded abt shit #like hes more likely to hesitate if something is off yknow? im gaahhahh im trying to beam my thoughts into ur head. gesturing vaguely at the #the picture describes itself u dont need me to write my little novels here (i will anyways) #mwah mwah if u read this far welcome to my favorite person club <3 <3 an ELITE group u should feel honored #twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #silver vanrouge #<3 #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #i need the OB NOW #suntails #oh yea also more silver head chopping #dont think i forgot

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Howdy's rainbow suspenders.

thank you for coming to my Ted Talk-

#im so mad i didnt notice On Stream hnggggg #characters who have rainbows associated with them: eddie / frank / sally / now howdy as well #please refer to eddie's tie. the butterfly on frank's door. sally's house. howdy's suspenders. thankyew #HE'S FRUITY! I SWEAR TO GOD #listen . Listen. #'oh the filters/light is just affecting the black-' #okay then why is frank wearing black thats entirely unaffected. why is barnaby's nose unaffected. why is howdy's BELT unaffected #why are the colors on his suspenders in Blatant Rainbow Order. #huh. explain it to me. make it make sense other than HE'S QUEER? HOWDY PILLAR LOVES MEN I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #AND YOU'RE DYING ON IT WITH ME- #ok ok. sorry. normal. im Normal #godddd i just. That Image. from the commercial comp #the way he has a bit of a prominent blush. the way he's leaning towards barn. the rainbow suspenders #absolutely unprompted #howdy pillar #the way that the only times we've gotten something of howdy Without barn making an appearance was #the howdy-sally / howdy-eddie / howdy-poppy / that one makeship ad #laughingstock is so real. oh its so real- #(probably one-sided or barn just has some internalized issues to work through - or they both do - but. But.) #hey! put the gun away! i dont need to be put down! i swear im mentally stable! #im So mentally stable? ive been in the trenches since day one? #wh. what do you mean thats... huh? shhh dont worry about it im fine we're fine and i called it months ago- PUT THE GUN DOWN #anyway no i havent just been staring at that housewarming image. no i havent. Swearsies

[ibeewashere]

I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.

#the way that murph immediately volunteered to take a stress token for Kristen without skipping a beat #AND THEN HE TOOK A FUCKING SECOND ONE WHEN THEY STILL ROLLED BAD #something something you will dig until your own hands are bleeding something something #god that quote still haunts me I will never stop thinking about it I swear to god #he works so hard #and he doesn’t ever ask for any recognition or anything in return because just helping is enough #making sure the people he loves are okay is enough for him #this stupid little goblin man makes me want to throw up /pos #he just cares so deeply for everyone around him #i love him so dearly #my silly little fella #dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #riz gukgak #fantasy high junior year #OH AND DONT FUCKING THINK FOR A SECOND THAT IM NOT GONNA TALKING ABOUT GORGUG MOTHERFUCKING THISTLESPRING. BECAUSE THIS BITCH /aff #he’s going to have so many stress tokens by the end of this it’s so unfunny and it is making me unwell #I just. I just want them all to be okay and happy and not stressed and GODS they all need a fucking hug #they’re all traumatized and stressed and stupid and silly and I love them all so so much #eats them #puts them in a blender #throws them into a washing machine and watches them spin around #sobs violently #I’m so ill about them #sorry for the rant #i will be back #and I will talk more I’m not actually sorry that’s mb #the tags are like a whole ass paragraph of text but that’s okay #i just think they're neat