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#they deserved so much
allthingsobrien · 7 months
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hannigram + eye sex
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holyhuppert · 1 year
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Golden Globe winners Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, Jennifer Coolidge and Angela Bassett.
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harmony1931 · 3 months
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Yesterday I saw a video in which James Marsters says that Spike would gift something living like a plant or a puppy to Buffy on her birthday. That Spike is constantly aware that he is dead and cold so he would love to give something alive to Buffy.
God, I cried it was so sweet.
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sporkberries · 1 year
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sketch because i cannot stop thinking about how much they went through.
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velastaltor · 5 months
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THIS IS A KIKO APPRECIATION POST !!
IF YOU DONT LIKE KIKO THEN THEY WILL APPROACH YOUR LOCATION IN 5 SECONDS AND TAKE ALL YOUR MONEY AND CARROTS
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queen-daenerys · 1 year
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I'll keep saying it until I die - Iceland would've won in 2020 if it had happened and we owe them a win for it!!
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its-pluto · 9 months
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Life is confusing but one thing is pretty clear, I will NEVER move on
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fabiiey · 1 year
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I Can't Go On Without You
Summary: Max calls up Mike at three am, without any questions asked, Mike goes to her.
Tags: Max Mayfield & Mike Wheeler, Minor Character Death
Its on Ao3 too
“Mike?”
“Max? It’s three in the morning?”
“I know – its… its my mom. Can you come to the hospital please?”
“I’ll be there.”
He doesn’t care to be silent, shoving his shoes on and grabbing a sweater. He doesn’t think of Holly still awake or the fact that his mom had for sure heard him slamming things around as he swipes his keys off the kitchen counter. His walkie is in one hand, the open channel silent as he starts up the car and peels out his driveway loudly, waking up the sleeping neighborhood.
He looked at the time, the numbers 3:12 flashing at him. He easily drives down the empty streets, definitely breaking a few speeding laws as he approaches Hawkins General. He sees Max sitting outside, smoke curling around her in wispy clouds. He gets out, barely remembering to lock his car as he jogs towards her. She looks horrible. Her face is splotchy, bright red against her pale skin and her freckles seemed almost non-existent. She drops the cigarette, putting it out under her shoe before stepping forward and crashing into Mike’s chest.
He instinctively wraps his arms around her, one hand around her waist and the other pressing her head to his neck. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, he doesn't know why she’s at the hospital at three in the morning, but he’s here, holding her tightly as if he could put back all her broken pieces back together. She smells of smoke and cheap rose perfume and her hair feels tangled, the strands being held up by a dingy hair tie. She’s still in her Ralph’s Records uniform: A black bowling shirt with the store name embroidered on the right side of the shirt and her blue ripped jeans.
She pulls away first, her breath still ragged and quick. Her face is still red, and her eyes are bloodshot as she leads him inside, walking past the nurses mulling around the nursing station. He catches their worried looks as Max tightens her grip on his hand, tugging him into the elevator. She stands across from him, arms crossed and her face dejected. Its different from that night in ’85, when they had been standing outside Billy’s hospital room waiting for the doctors to confirm if he was alive or not.
He wasn’t, the Mindflayer destroyed his chest cavity, taking his lungs, heart, and any organs that had gotten in the way.
That was the last time Mike had seen Neil Hargrove, tear marks streaking down his face and Max had muttered something about Neil only crying because he hoped it was him that ended his son, not some measly mall fire. Still, Mike only felt the surface level of empathy for the horrible man with a rotten son.
Almost three years later, Mike feels like he’s still stuck in that moment, the only difference was that the Party wasn’t here. The Byers were still in California, far away from Hawkins as they can get without leaving the country. Dustin wasn’t even in Hawkins either, he was in Utah, spending his winter break with Suzie and Lucas was in Chicago with his parents, looking at some of the schools that had scouted him for the various sports he played.
“My mom got hit.” Max finally says, “A drunk driver drove her into a tree. The driver died on the way to the hospital and my mom, they said she won’t make it.” He pulls her close, hands almost shaking as the elevator finally opens. She pulls away, her shoulders squaring, and she steps out into the flurry of doctors running the floor. She waits and Mike waits with her, waits for the inevitable news that Susan Mayfield died on a cold December night in 1987 because someone decided to drive drunk.
Mike goes in at six thirty to make a promise, hoping to ease Susan Mayfield’s mind.
For the first time in years, Mike prays to a god he’s not sure exist and prays for an easy passing.
Max goes in at six-forty-seven to say goodbye and at seven am on December 19th, 1987, Susan Mayfield succumbs to her injuries.
At seven am, on that snowing morning, Max Mayfield is the last of her family.
At seven am, on that cloudy, cold morning, Max Mayfield becomes an orphan at the age of seventeen.
They leave the hospital almost at midday, Max has to fill out paperwork and she wants to sleep forever once they’re done.
Mike takes them home, sits in the car for a complete thirty minutes with her, takeout slowly cooling at her feet before she sighs heavily and grabs the bags. She heads to his room, whispering a ‘good afternoon’ to Mrs. Wheeler before disappearing up the stairs. Mike realizes suddenly how exhausted he is as his mom meets him in the hall, a worried look on her face. Her hair is brown again, just how it had been before everything went to shit, before his best friend went missing and they were fighting interdimensional monsters every week for the next four years.
He seeks her comfort just like he did when they pulled Will’s fake body out of the water and when the Byers left Hawkins, taking two pieces of him with them.
( He doesn’t mention the day him and El broke up over the phone four months after she moved away and he cried into her lap at fifteen years old)
“Susan is dead.” He whispers, “Can she stay here?”
And Karen Wheeler is a mother, she raised three good, smart kids. She feed the three boys that never left Mike’s side. She let them have free reign of the basement and let them stay as long as their parents let them. With a gentle nod of her head and a kiss to the side of his head along with a whispered promise that she’s always welcomed, does she let him go.
Mike finds Max in one of his shirts. It’s the Hellfire one, he had gotten an extra, paying Eddie an additional twenty dollars he won in a bet with Nancy for it. It was big, hanging off one of her shoulders exposing her collarbone. She was eating her fries, eyes distant as Mike entered his room quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. She doesn’t look at him as he takes his own food and eats it in silence next to her.
When they’re done, Mike closes the curtains as Max gets comfortable on the bed, claiming the side by the wall. The room is engulfed in darkness as Mike crosses his room, blindly gathering their trash and going to throw it away. He comes back a few minutes later, a cup of water in hand. He places it on his bedstand as he slips under the covers with Max. She easily fits herself into his side, her cold hands (they’re always cold and it makes him want to hold her closer, to warm her hands up in between his own) fisting his shirt.
It’s easy, familiar in a way they can’t explain. They’re two parts of a song, completing each other in a way no one but maybe Steve and Robin can relate to. He slides an arm around her waist, pulling her close and tugging the blankets over them. Her chest rattles against his side and its easy to press his lips to the top of her head.
When they wake up, he’ll sit her in between his legs and wrangle her hair out of her knotted ponytail and make her hair pretty with simple plaits he begged Nancy to teach him.
When they wake up, he’ll hold her as she cries.
When they wake up, he’ll promise to never leave her, that wherever she goes, he’ll follow and she’ll give him a watery laugh and ask if he’s planning to replace Lucas, because after everything, the two are still together.
But for now, the two sleep, embraced in the warmth they share. Mike’s humming lulls her to sleep as his hand gently rubs circles over the shirt she had made fun of him for wearing.
For now, on this wretched winter day, Max sleeps knowing that when she wakes up, Mike Wheeler will be there, holding her together as her world continues to shift and change.
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bea-lele-carmen · 2 years
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youtube
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boopsterliv · 2 years
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Me @ Sara and Leonard: JUST FUCKING FUCK ALREADY STOP STARING AT EACH OTHER AND TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS YOU DUMB FUCKS YOU’RE ON A TIMESHIP AND HAD A MOMENT WHERE YOU THOUGHT THE OTHER MIGHT BE DEAD AND YET YOU STILL WON’T HAVE A CONVO ABOUT IT AHHHH!
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month
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The math just adds up!
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elliesbelle · 3 months
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emily gwen, the creator of the sunset lesbian flag that we’ve come to commonly use, still continues to live in poverty.
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multi-billion dollar companies have used their design and made profit from it, and yet they have not seen a cent for their creation.
i’ve been friends with emily for years, and i have not once seen them be financially stable the entire time. i’ve seen them homeless, unemployed, starving. right now, they need our help more than ever.
please consider donating to emily’s ko-fi, especially if you’ve used their design to create something and profited from it.
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artkaninchenbau · 3 months
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Crocodile finds a strange stray cat an 11-year old Nico Robin (AU where they met 13 years earlier. Robin's been on the run from the World Government for 3 years. Crocodile's 27 and has not set up base in Alabasta yet)
It seems like I have become possessed. By some sort of demon.
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Bonus:
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aye-of-newt · 21 days
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guillermo del toro’s pinocchio is a beautiful film but my god no one has adapted that story like neverafter. you can never look at it the same way again after listening to lou wilson, a black man, explaining that he chose to play as pinocchio because it’s a story about a little boy who isn’t allowed to make mistakes. that in pinocchio's story, he is fundamentally barred from childhood at once upon a time. he must earn something that everyone else is granted from birth. the other boys get to tell lies and play and get into trouble, but when pinocchio does the same thing there are grave and violent consequences. his pinocchio is trying to understand why the world is so unfair, why the rules are so different for him, why everyone else gets to be a real boy.
and I think about it every day.
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dasketcherz · 9 months
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it was a pretty cool dlc, i enjoyed it a lot
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uncanny-tranny · 3 months
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I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.
I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:
Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)
Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)
Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often
Eat dessert first
Celebrate well, and often
Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)
Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.
Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate
Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)
Walk without having a specific destination or goal
Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.
I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.
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