thinking thoughts™️ again about another fic that’s way too real, and pictured eddie giving steve that understanding smile, saying , “yeah, changing the world gets a little old, doesn’t it, when the cost is your sanity.”
and steve mirrors him with a slight nod, “and when you realise you just wanna live your own life, not change everyone else’s. i feel like people shouldn’t need to take this long to realise that.”
“it’s the system, steve-o.” eddie fishes a cigarette from the pack, offering one to steve, who shakes his head with a polite smile. “people living their lives. what a rebellious thing to ask.”
steve watches him for a second, and it’s like he’s piecing together some kind of picture around him. eddie lets him; somehow he trusts steve not to get it all wrong. “you going to rehab to stick it to the man, hm?”
eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes far away as he lets the smoke fall from his lips. “no. ‘m going to rehab because it took me too long to realise that i just wanna live my life. and because i think… because i think i’m actually ready. sounds so dumb, doesn’t it?”
“nah.” and steve sounds like he means it. eddie gets the feeling that he does. steve strikes him as someone who’s too genuine for his own good. maybe that’s his own way to keep changing the world even without that job. “sounds like you actually know what you’re talking about. that’s a good quality, you know? to get better. wanting to get better. for no one but yourself.”
“now you’re the one who sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”
steve huffs and stuffs his hands into his pocket. “nah, man. i’m just the homeless guy who’s hot for your apartment and wants you out of the house asap so i can start my life. with your cat.”
eddie laughs as he snuffs out the cigarette beneath his boot. the keys dangle in his hand as he holds them out to steve, who looks at him, surprised.
“well, she’s yours, then.”
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I know Manny is potentially the speed bump that occurs in every romcom (the guy who is just perfect but not the one she’s been dreaming of) but he is just like every speedbump where if that’s the man you ended up with, you fucking won girl. you hit the jackpot. he’s tall and attractive and caring and respects and admires you and your intelligence??? get yours Janine Teagues don’t wait
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(More thoughts and drafting! Some weird formatting I know but it was all one block in my notes)
Emma is doing just fine. Average. It’s really not so bad.
She’s just been dealing with a lot of change. And with too many things not changing.
Which is… an odd thing to struggle with.
Because she likes hange. Daunting challenges. The unpredictable. Doing new things every day and never being scared of them. And she likes independence.
She had thought so, at least.
After the show, she had been hit in the face with just how… isolated she was. She had only had two friends before the first season, but she had left them behind. Her mother wasn’t doing the best, and she didn’t have any nearby family.
She found herself laying in her bed in the middle of the day most of the time, scrolling through her contacts and old conversations.
Or scrolling through her comments on TikTok.
A few weeks ago, she had tried some stunt involving a motorcycle and an inflatable pool. She probably wouldn’t have messed it up if her hands weren’t trembling.
(She had forgot to check the breaks, and wasn’t sure if they were working.)
(They were.)
The blood dripping down her face and the gash in her lip didn’t sting as much as it did watching the video.
She looked ridiculous, and she probably always did. It was better when she had someone else to do it with. Maybe she was losing her touch.
She didn’t post the video.
She turned back to dancing instead, which did feel less embarassing, despite the constant mocking feedback. Sure, the jokes were “funny”, but she didn’t care about any of it. She didn’t feel the rush, she wasn’t planning every day, and she wasn’t known or loved for anything.
Except for what she lost.
And, the show, to an extent.
-Ugh, she misses the show. She shouldn’t, but as stupid as it sounds, she missed doing crazy things and talking to people. Having a chance of winning. Beating everyone. Being cheered on. It wasn’t always great, but at least it was something. She misses doing something.
And she really misses Bowie. She missed Bowie, but she knows better than anyone that she can’t go back to that. They just- have better things to do now. He probably does.
He’s got Raj- which is great! And she’s happy for him! She’s happy for everyone. For Wayne, however he’s doing, for Julia, despite everything.
And Caleb. For having Priya.
Emma is jealous that Bowie gets to have someone.
Emma is jealous that everyone else gets to have someone.
Emma is jealous that, unlike everyone else, winning the show probably wouldn’t have made her any happier.
She isn’t sure what would.
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Helloooo farmer friends!! So last night my friend @pavusprince mentioned how she doesn’t understand the toothpaste mint chocolate chip ice cream comparison and that got me thinking!! Let’s talk about food!!
Does your farmer like mint chocolate ice cream? Does it taste like toothpaste? Are they neutral, or do they hate it?
During the summer does your farmer visit Alex’s ice cream stand? What flavor/treat do they buy? What’s their least favorite flavor?
What is one treat your farmer will ALWAYS have in their home? Is it healthy or unhealthy?
If your farmer was a snack item what would they be? (It cannot be a food that could be eaten like a meal, but it may be a dessert) Here’s some examples: chips, cookies, M&ms, Twinkies, crackers, bubblegum, lollipops, etc
What’s your farmer’s comfort food, favorite meal, and least favorite meal?
What’s something they will NEVER eat?
What do they cook if they know they will have a guest over?
If the town’s potluck didn’t matter so much, what ingredient would they take? And what food would they put at an event table if you had to bring something?
Finally, if your farmer was real, what would YOU give them to eat.
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Drabble 84/366 - Doctor Who
This has never been a problem before, but then, the Doctor has never had a companion whose legs were so tiny.
One moment, Amelia is on his heels. The next, he looks back to see her at the end of the hallway. His screwdriver is in one hand, unlocking the door, but she won’t make it.
The Doctor careens back down the hall, screwdriver between his teeth as he scoops her up, and runs.
A bolt of energy clips his ear. He tucks Amelia’s head down.
“You need longer limbs,” he tells her, “or heelys.” Amelia, safe and sound, laughs.
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watching ofmd and thinking about the potential parallels between ed and izzy’s relationship and astrid and eadwulf’s. the leader and the dog that follows them around. the one all the good guys reach out to, who they make a connection with, and the one who represents everything they want to leave behind, who’s only really allowed to stick around because you can’t just ask a person to give up their shadow. the way eadwulf always looks to astrid, always follows her lead in the end even if he disagrees. “i have love for you.” the way astrid doesn’t notice wulf dying on the ground. “i loved you best i could.” two people who have watched each other being molded into what they are now, who have been through hell together, who love each other as much as they hate each other as much as they don’t know how to be anything else to each other, who can’t stop hurting each other can’t stop betraying each other can’t stop running back to each other, who are fused to each other like a cauterized wound.
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Sorry for being so rambly today (and last night) I have thoughts so onto the blog they go
I feel like part of the joy of art is in community, like you create something and you get to talk about it and share it with the world. This year I lost touch with the friends who I would always talk about art with and I think that loss is heavily impacting my ability to create (and the enjoyment I get from it.) I miss having a new idea and getting to ramble about it excitedly. I miss texting people the sketches and the mock ups and the color palettes.
I got into art for me. I wouldn’t show anything I made to anyone for years. So I’m no stranger for creating for the target audience of myself. Still, I miss that sense of community. I love this blog and I absolutely adore the lovely comments you all leave on my art but sometimes it feels so one-sided on here. I post a piece, I receive a lovely tag back and that’s it. End of story. I spend hours and hours working on something and it kind of disappears into the void in a day or so.
Trying to put it into words, but I think I wish I could create art that starts a conversation. That inspires people to create their own things in response, or even just talk with me about process. I think the perfectionism has gotten out of hand lately because I feel like I’m missing something—which I attribute to the quality of the piece—but really what I’m missing is buddies to chat about art with. There is no level of being “good enough” that will serve as a substitute for a real community.
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