#hopeless rambles

[thor-is-trans-and-pan-he-told-me]

imagine if like charlie comes back and she and mirage become like best friends resulting in bumblebee becoming jealous and is like do you have a crush on charlie what do you think about charlie and mirage who's annoyed as fuck is like no I'm dating someone and that someone is noah and then noah finds out so he and mirage fake date but fall in love along the way

yeah I can imagine that happening tbh

#mirnoah #mirage x noah #noah x mirage #bumblebee x charlie #charlie x bumblebee #charlie watson #bumblebee rotb #transformers rotb #rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #charbee #hopeless rambles

[hopelesswritergall]

Besties......

A few of my favorite writers follow me and like my stuff. Now I'm scared

#moots <3 #hopeless updates #Hopeless rambles

[lazylittledragon]

do any other artists feel like. yeah you're a 'good artist' because you draw things that look nice, but like. TECHNICALLY? you're really not great

i really hate that i can recognise that yes, my art is good, but is it VARIED? is it dynamic?? is my anatomy good? is it full of texture and colour theory? do i know how to do This? can i do That? no, not really. and that's quite painful actually

#ramble #yes this is the artist's perspective bs and yes this is anxiety because it's 1am #and yes i'm forever learning and growing but also #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. #drawing my little guys is fun but i am not good enough for the industry right now and that fucking sucks #i really feel like if i walked into a studio with my portfolio right now they would laugh at me #one of those days where i wish i'd done a more useful degree y'know #i'm going back through the phase where i don't know what i'm going to be anymore and it's scary #some days i really want to give it up and never draw again and do something worthwhile because i Know my life would be easier #and i hate that something i love so much makes me feel so hopeless #signs that i should go to bed ^^^^ #i will resume my pity party tomorrow

[scarrletmoon]

i’ve seen tweets/posts from people saying that anyone who donated to the ofmd renewal billboard should get beaten with hammers and i just. come on, man

you want other queer people to die bc they spent, on average, $30 on something they really like. i spent about that much on a new sauce pan yesterday. should i also get beaten to death with hammers bc i bought guitar picks instead of donating to a charity your personally approve of. what’s the line here.

you have every right to be furious that the world seems to keep turning while there are horrific tragedies happening somewhere else. but like. how much of yelling at strangers on the internet is mitigating that tragedy. how much shaming is putting food in the mouths of starving people. what’s the point?

are you using your anger productively? or are you burning yourself out bc everything feels hopeless? are you lashing out at strangers bc you feel like it’s the only way you can have an impact?

what’s the point??

#scarrlet rambles #i just #like i’ve been there i’ve been angry i’ve felt hopeless when it seems no one cares #but you have to use that anger productively or you’ll burn YOURSELF out before you can help

[subsequentibis]

it's actually just hit me that there's like... not really romance plots in dungeon meshi. they don't pair the cast off arbitrarily at the end. basically any character could be read as aroace/aspec really easily. that's honestly super cool!! it's refreshing to have a mainstream piece of media with the kind of approach to character relationships that emphasizes how important everyone's connections to each other are without making them explicitly romantic.

#ignore me #dungeon meshi #like obviously i love to read romance in bc im a hopeless romantic #but i like having the option to read that in Myself rather than have it forced #and i like that my aro & ace friends can see themselves in the characters in that way #like.... shuro's driven by romance but his stuff is fairly minor in the scope of things all told? #but i think that & chilchuck's marriage are kind of easy to read as moooore like. #societal expectation that you get married & reproduce & etc than like Deep Romance. esp wrt chilchuck #anyway now im just rambling

[ifisawyoueverydayforeverwill]

Y'ALL NEED TO SEE THIS PANEL

#Mobius will be the one to save him! #because he ended up very sad #But from what we saw on the series Mobius can push his feelings inside #maybe Deadpool can make him admit how much he misses loki?? #LET ME DREAM #I still can't bear the hopelessness Tom Hiddleston left me with when he said that his journey as Loki had ended #YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT #ofc u can I'm just rambling I'm heartbroken and sad #btw someone on Quora answering a question about whether or not Asgard was linked to time or not used that panel #so I don't have the source of the specific comic I just know it's Thor I'm sorry #loki #lokius #loki x mobius #mobius m mobius #agent mobius #thor #thor comics #marvel cinematic universe #marvel loki #we all not it won't be Sylvie shedding that tear #loki season two #loki series #loki season 2

[inoreuct]

i want to be loved— softly.

i want to be loved when i am too tired to maintain my usual personality. i want to be loved when i have none of my charm, when i'm quiet and i've put down my smile. i want to drop my weight into skin-warmed sheets, press my face into a pillow that is not mine and know that i am still wanted even when i have nothing to give. i want low lights and quiet voices. i want a love that feels easy as breathing, hot chocolate and tea, wrapped in the duvet with a thunderstorm outside. i want to be seen at my worst and still be kissed like i look beautiful. i want comfort and safety and a place to rest my head. i want to trust someone enough to be able to let them put me back together when i fall apart. i want to be shown that i am worth the effort of being gentle, of being careful. i want love that is a home, a refuge, a respite, because love is steady and love is kind. love is the place where you hide when everything is too much. love is where you know you're safe, where nothing can hurt you, and love is relief. love is where, at the end of the day, you take down your hair and let your shoulders drop because there is nobody to pretend for. love is gentle. love is soft. love is lovely and if it isn't lovely— then it isn't love.

#nowhere near my usual content but hozier's unknown / nth fucking destroyed me #so you get to meet hopeless romantic ino tonight! yay! #freeform poetry or just rambling? we'll never know. you decide. #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr

[unforth]

We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

#unforth rambles #politics #us politics #genocide #genocide tw #i don't know how to tag this #i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's #i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter #to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives #and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed #who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation #no matter how much or how little they fought #they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back #i have no family in europe #not a single person survived #i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously #and neither should you

[heatherstyles]

The fact that Klaus, the strongest creature to exist in TVDU was obsessed over Caroline, a baby vampire that couldn’t stand him at all and told him right in his face that he’s a loser and she’s beyond his lame and cheesy pickup lines is why i will never shut up about them. He chases after her right after they have a little spat and almost gets hit by a car?? like a million year old vampire like him cared so much about her he paid zero mind to his surroundings?? like no you don’t understand he wasn’t distracted by her, he was CONSUMED.

Thank you for listening to my TedTalk

#nat rambles #klaroline #of course i won’t stop talking about this superior ship #klaus is actually just a hopeless romantic softie #caroline is THE MAN here #they live rent free in my mind #klaus almost getting hit by a car is hilarious #the end of my tedtalk

[hiroshotreplica]

this part of this random promotional image i found evokes a certain emotion that i adore but i cant really explain it

#it has a sort of hopeless intimacy feel to it #rambling

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

// okay but actually knowing that the ending isn't totally tragic makes it way less scary to get involved. Certain "bad ends" can be terrible for people with past experience, so knowing that eventually it will get better is relieving to say the least.

yeah i do actually have phase 2's ending planned out and i'll say that it's a lot more positive and hopeful . i mean it's not a happily ever after or something but we'll see some character development

i guess i'm throwing out all of these reassurances because - i think it's apparent already but phase 2 will have considerably darker topics ( trauma , identity crises and whatever 00 has going on to be specific ) , and i fully believe that the message i'm going for will be shattered if it ends badly . she'll be alright /genuine .

#[ ooc ] #these are not my first time touching on those topics so the scary part for me honestly is just #seeing people get hopeless over it ?? like i guess it just feels like it's expected of me to pull out the worst shit possible when i'm #just a type of writer that enjoys kicking down their faves and dismantling their walls so they'll be forced to face the root of their issue #i always found more enjoyment in characters becoming vulnerable in the lowest point of their life and being pulled out of it . #sorry for the ramble in the tags lol i just really want to put this out there

[thor-is-trans-and-pan-he-told-me]

I really like the theme of being remembered in wroef because each and everyone of the finch family are remembered by something and that something is their deaths each time edith discovers how each member of her family died all of those family members are defined by how their death not by who they were in life but rather their death edith only remembers certain members of her family either because of little glimpses into their life who they were/she knew them personally or because of their deaths hell the finch family as a whole is only remembered as the family who's cursed to die in strange and mysterious ways

the theme of being remembered is reinforced by this quote that edith says when she enters the house

"But instead of a family there were just memories of one," even though she has such a massive family tree she doesn't really remember them and only really remembers one

even at the end edith herself is only really remembered because of her death her own son doesn't remember her and the only thing he can remember her by the journal she wrote for him

like damn I could talk about this game all day smh

#hopeless rambles #what remains of edith finch #wroef #edith finch

[dreambranding]

being genuine and vulnerable and cringe and yourself is so so important in a world that sees that as a threat to maximization of profit

#i am begging people to stop hiding behind jokes and feel YOU CAN FEEL IT IS GOOD FOR YOU. THINK ABOUT YOUR LIFE DONT JUST LET YOURSELF FALL #UNDER THE WEIGHT OF WHAT FEELS HOPELESS. THEY THRIVE THE MOMENT YOU STOP FIGHTING #and fighting doesn't have to be violent. That's the point #star rambles

[violet-kink-rambles]

I wanna wake up one day to the smell of a hearty breakfast of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and more. The scent hanging in the air as I hear the blender spring to life, blending up a familiar shake that my partner lovingly made. It's a Sunday morning, we both don't have work or errands to run. I start getting out of bed and lightly stretching before I head to the bathroom to do my business and skincare.

A few minutes later they walk into the bedroom only to see I'm already awake so they sneak on over to the bathroom and grab my love handles from behind. We talk for a bit about our plans that day as I finish up my skincare and head to the kitchen. We both enjoy our breakfasts and they hand me a shake at the end of it before we head over to the couch and watch our show.

Like yeah the kinky weird shit we post about on here is hot and I wanna do those things too, but I also want to romanticize and live that day to day feedism life. I don't want this kink to just be relegated to special occasions, I want to build a life with someone just who is just as weird as I am.

I want lust and love to intertwine and become devotion for the both of us and we just keep lowering our heads further than the other

#my hopeless romanticism will be the death of me one day i swear #i want to be in a constant competition with my partner to show who loves who more #violet rambling #not even a kink post really #violet stories

[chronicowboy]

It's a couple of months after his breakdown when Eddie comes home from therapy to a suspiciously quiet house. Luckily, he and Frank had spent the session working on his anxiety, so he takes a deep breath and begins listing all the things Buck and Christopher could be doing as he goes in search for them.

They could be asleep on the couch, it wouldn't be the first time the early birds had crashed midday from fun, but Eddie finds the couch empty as soon as the thought forms. They could be doing homework at the table, drawing more hearts or puzzling over algebra equations, but the table is empty of its usual clutter. They could be eating in the kitchen, unlikely as neither of them have ever let mouths full of food stop them from chattering away, and he's proven right at a barren kitchen.

The panic rises and crests in his chest like a wave, but he takes another deep breath, reminds himself that the safest place in the world for Christopher is Buck's side.

They could be in the yard tending to their little vegetable garden, but Eddie peeks out to lonely tomato plants swaying in the gentle summer breeze. They could be rearranging Christopher's room again, possibly side-tracked by Christopher's old drawings or Lego creations, but the room is exactly as he'd left it this morning.

Its when Eddie presses his forehead into the doorframe to ground himself that he hears it. A sniffle coming from beyond the cracked bathroom door.

"Okay, buddy," that's Buck's voice, soft and unendingly gentle in a way that makes something behind Eddie's sternum pulse and ache. Eddie drifts towards it, helpless to resist the pull.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait for dad?" Chris asks, voice a little shaky however it is when he's just finished crying. The wave of panic crests again, but Eddie nudges the door open and the wave collapses into foam.

Christopher is perched on the closed toilet, both legs of his jeans rolled up to above his scraped knees, eyes wide and trusting despite his words. And Buck. Buck is crouched in front of him with the first aid kit open at his feet and an expression so tender it takes Eddie's breath away.

"We can, if you want," Buck concedes, trying and failing to conceal just the slightest bit of hurt. Eddie sees it as he sees the guilt lining the tense line of Buck's shoulders, as he sees the anguish swimming in Buck's own teary eyes. "But I specialise in scratches." He grins, wide and way too bright for the fluorescent lights of the bathroom to compete. He lowers his voice, winks, "its all Hen and Chim trust me with on the job."

Christopher's hiccupping giggle is the best sound Eddie has ever heard. And, judging by the way Buck looks up at Chris like the sound fell from heaven, he agrees. Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to. Not with the way Buck looks kneeling in front of his son, like this is some sort of worship and penance all at once, eyes softer than Eddie has ever seen them.

"Okay, superman," Buck cups the back of Christopher's shin with hands so big his fingers could meet around his leg, with hands so gentle Eddie has the fleeting desire to feel them on himself. "Doesn't look like there's anything in there, but I'm gonna pour a bit of water over them first to wash anything away. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah," Chris nods solemnly, and Buck smiles up at him as he reaches for the cup on the sink.

Carefully, Buck pours a cup of water over both scrapes, stopping every time Chris so much as twitches, and Eddie aches. He dries them off with a clean towel, gentler still than Eddie knew a human of Buck's size could be, then reaches for the alcohol-free wipes.

"Okay, I'm gonna make sure they're super clean," Buck murmurs, side-profile illuminated by the afternoon light cutting through the bathroom window, angelic and divine. Eddie has the insane urge to pull his phone out and capture the moment forever. "It might be a little sore, so just tell me if you need to stop." Chris nods again, and Buck uses his free hand to grab Christopher's and drop it onto his curls. "Squeeze as tight as you like, and, if I'm too rough, give me a tug in revenge."

Eddie can't decide which is more beautiful: Christopher's laugh or the smile it provokes in Buck. Both of them are bright and joyful things that make Eddie want to fall to his knees in his own kind of worship. He watches as Buck starts wiping away at the scratches, slow and soft and oh so tender it hurts Eddie himself. Chris waits patiently, bravely until Buck drops one wipe and then tugs on his hair.

"Ow!" Buck yelps, pouting up at Christopher who shakes with silent laughter. "What was that for?" When the only answer is a bubbling laugh, Buck's face twitches into a grin like he just can't help it. Eddie understands, doesn't think there's anything more contagious than Buck and Christopher's joy. "Knee number two, no tugging please, sir." And Eddie thinks that some people might forget to be so gentle after that, but Buck only gets more so.

He drops the wipes into the trash before grabbing a gauze pad and pressing it to Christopher's knee. He waits for a beat or two, undoubtedly watching for blood that might soak through even though the wipes came away mostly clean. Buck tapes the edges down and then moves onto the second knee.

And, look, Eddie knows Buck is a first responder, has seen and treated worse than this on a daily basis, but the ease with which he treats Christopher makes Eddie's stomach clench. Especially, when Buck absently rubs his thumbs over the skin of Christopher's legs like its as natural as breathing.

"Almost done," Buck whispers before leaning down to leave a big, smacking kiss on each bandage. Eddie aches. "There we go, now they'll heal faster and you can go back to being superman in no time."

"Thanks, Buck." Chris leans forward for a hug, and Buck catches him effortlessly.

Eddie watches the guilt creep into Buck's expression as he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face into Christopher's hair. When Buck takes a deep breath, Eddie copies him and tries not to get too flustered when Buck's worried eyes flutter open and land on him. A few months ago, Eddie would've shuttered, would have wiped his face clean of the dizzyingly intense array of emotions on display. But now, Eddie lets Buck see, lets him see that he's not in trouble, that Eddie is so grateful for him it hurts, lets him see the admiration and the softness, lets him see the overwhelming love Eddie feels for him right then and there, always and anywhere.

Buck lets Eddie see it all too.

#sami rambles #i specialise in scratches is rapidly becoming just another line that makes me want to tear all my flesh off my body #and i couldn't get this image out of my head so here #(also i know that dudefailure is using his dad lines to flirt because he is a hopeless pathetic little guy) #911 spoilers #911 spec #911 fic #911 fox #911 show #911 fanfic #buddie #buck x eddie #buck and christopher #buckley diaz family #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic #buckley diaz family fic

[plusvanity]

I bet there are times when Varg wakes up in the middle of the night from horrible nightmares in which The Foreskin-Chewing Goblins catch him and Pelle. And he's in cold sweats, hysterical and hyperventilating, SHOVING his hand in his boyfriend's pants to search for that precious foreskin. Pelle instantly wakes up when he's being GRABBED, and of course, he's confused. He asks Varg what the hell is going on and Varg is frantically narrating his bad dream, still caressing Pelle's dick like a rare gem. Pelle laughs a bit, realising how utterly retarded his man's story sounds until he hears a faint sob in the dark. His jaw drops completely.

'Dude, no, you can't be for real....'

And then another sob follows.

'Dude, WHAT THE F-

#this probably happens 5 times a week 20 times per month #silly vargelle facts #varg is so retarded #pelle is the rational one in their relationship #so imagime just how hopeless they actually are lol #my ramblings