#rambling about bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unclewaynemunson · 6 months

Text

It's October when the autumn chill officially dawns over Hawkins. Wayne wakes up to fogged-up windows, and his bones protest loudly when he stretches to get up and make himself some warm coffee. It's too early in the year to turn on the heating; if they start that now, they'll be bankrupt before it's even January. So while the coffee is brewing, he shrugs off the old shirt he uses as a pajama, and puts on as many layers as he'll need to keep himself warm: first an undershirt, then a soft flannel, and then a faded brown sweater that's been sitting uselessly in his closet all through the summer. It's patched up at the elbows to conceal the holes that have fallen into it, but still warm and comfortable, which is all Wayne can really ask for.

'Ed, got coffee for ya!' he calls out when he's changed into his jeans and the coffee is almost ready.

Some muffled noises sounding vaguely like 'lemmesleeeeeep' emerge from the other side of the thin wall.

Wayne chuckles as he turns on the gas, deciding he might as well make scrambled eggs for breakfast; a thinly-veiled excuse to heat up the trailer by using the stove.

'And eggs in a minute!'

Another string of muffled sounds emerges from Eddie's bedroom, 'stoocold' being the only semi-decipherable one.

For a moment, Wayne feels guilty. He knows, deep down, that this is nothing more than his Eddie being dramatic. But that doesn't change his wish that he could simply turn on the heat without giving it a second thought and make Eddie's Sunday morning just slightly more comfortable. He doesn't care about the chill in his own bones, he's had worse. He doesn't care about the condensation on the windows, that is now changing into thick droplets that are gliding down to the windowsill, leaving traces of soot in their wake. He's not even sure if he'd ever want to live in a real, proper house. But the one thing he does want, is to get his nephew through the season warm and comfortable without having to count every penny.

Eddie finally emerges from his bedroom, with only his head peeking out of the blanket he has wrapped himself in, and a sleepy look in his eyes. The phone starts ringing just as Wayne greets him, and Eddie, who's closer to it, shuffles towards it.

Almost immediately after he picks up, his eyes shed their drowsy look and light up in a way that Wayne has come to know all too well, while his mouth curves into a wicked grin.

'No, sir, he's not here,' Eddie says into the phone, his eyes wide and innocent. 'When he didn't come home last night, I assumed he'd be spending the night with you. I guess he must have a secret lover we both don't know about.'

Wayne abruptly turns off the gas and barges towards Eddie, who barks out a laugh while he jumps back as far as the phone cord allows him.

'Just joking, Mr. Clarke, he is here!' he calls out in an annoyingly triumphed tone. 'And he can't wait to talk to you, here he is!'

Wayne playfully shoves Eddie against the wall as he takes the phone from him.

'Sorry for my menace of a nephew, Scott,' he says.

He hears a chuckle on the other side of the line, slightly distorted through the horn. It's as if his hand has a will of its own, clenching around the phone and pressing it almost painfully close to his ear; like he'll be able to catch the sound of Scott's laughter better if he could only press himself tighter to his phone.

'Luckily I'm used to middle schoolers, nothing I can't handle here.'

Wayne snorts and turns towards Eddie, who is now shamelessly staring at him from above his blanket-cocoon a few steps away from him.

'Scott says you should stop behavin' like a damn middle schooler,' he grumbles.

'Yep, that sounds exactly like something sweet Scott Clarke would say,' Eddie remarks, that devilish grin still plastered on his face.

'What can I do for ya, Scott?'

'Well, I just came downstairs for breakfast, and when I looked outside, I realized this is our first proper fall day.'

Wayne directs his gaze to the wet kitchen window. He hadn't even thought to look through the droplets on the glass; but now that he does, he realizes Scott is right. The trees around Forest Hills are definitely showing more yellow and orange than they did yesterday, and some patches of fog are still lingering a few feet above the wilted grass and muddy roads. The skies are a light shade of gray, telling Wayne that even though it'll be cold, it won't likely start raining anytime soon.

'I was wondering if you have any plans for today?' Scott's continues in his ear. 'We could go for a walk in the forest, admire the colors, see if we can find some cool mushrooms... What do you think?'

Wayne wonders whether he's imagining the nervous edge to Scott's voice, merely hearing in there what he wants to hear.

'I'm free all day,' Wayne says. He clamps the phone between his ear and his shoulder, needing both his hands to fumble around in his chest pocket and find a cigarette and a lighter. 'You wanna come over after breakfast? I can make a thermos of coffee and we can head into the woods here, I know a nice path around Lov- around the lake.' He can feel Eddie's gaze burning on him, but he refuses to look at his nephew, instead closing his eyes as he places the cigarette between his lips and lights it.

Scott is kind enough to pretend like he didn't notice Wayne's unfortunate stutter.

'A walk around the lake sounds perfect,' he says instead, his voice still as chipper as ever. 'I'll be at yours in an hour. Enjoy your breakfast with Eddie.'

'Real smooth, Uncle Wayne.' Eddie's amused voice cuts through the silence as soon as Wayne has hung the phone back on the hook.

'Don't be ridiculous now, boy,' Wayne grumbles. 'He's my friend.'

'With whom you're gonna hang out at Lover's Lake. Like friends do.' The sarcasm is dripping from Eddie's voice.

'I liked you better when you were still asleep in your bed,' Wayne remarks.

Eddie laughs loudly. 'You shoulda thought about that before you made me come out of it to freeze to death.'

Wayne crosses his arms and shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. 'Are you gonna do anything today or just spending your whole day makin' fun of me?'

Eddie shrugs – or rather, that's what Wayne supposes is happening underneath the moving blanket. 'I'm gonna take the kids to the pumpkin farm with Steve.' He lowers his voice and leans closer towards Wayne, continuing in an conspiratorial voice, 'We call that a date. Maybe you and Mr. Clarke should stop being cowards and come join us. Make it a double date.'

Wayne doesn't say anything; he simply rolls his eyes and walks back to the stove, lighting the gas underneath the frying pan again so he can direct all his attention to his eggs.

---

An hour later, Eddie has left – with a pit stop at the Mayfields' trailer – to pick up Steve. Wayne has done the dishes, dried the windows and filled a thermos with fresh coffee. By the time Scott parks his car in the spot where Eddie's van had been earlier, most of the fog outside has disappeared. Wayne watches him get out of his car through the kitchen window, but he doesn't come outside just yet, afraid it'll make him seem too eager.

Scott knocks on the door and then lets himself in, like he's done many times over the summer that now lies behind them. He's wearing a woolen coat in a dark gray color, with a simple black scarf around his neck.

Wayne feels his hands twitch with the desire to wrap themselves around Scott's waist, to tug him close and bask in the warmth of his body. Would his scarf feel as soft as it looks? Would he smell like fresh autumn air? Would his touch be as warm as the quilt on his couch?

'Oof, it's chilly in here,' Scott remarks, rubbing his hands together.

'I don't get cold that fast.' It's only partly a lie.

'I like the sweater.'

The easy and earnest compliment catches Wayne off-balance; he doesn't know what to do, where to look, where to keep his hands. He wants to escape Scott's approving gaze and hide away somewhere no one can perceive him.

Instead, he clears his throat and thanks the heavens for the fact that Eddie has already left.

'Ready to go?' he asks.

They head into the woods and Wayne leads the way as they stray further from the trailer park. Their feet easily find a rhythm that feels natural to both of them, avoiding the bigger puddles on the path and stopping every now and then to admire toadstools, dewy cobwebs, and fallen leaves in beautiful colors.

As they make their way around Lover's Lake, Wayne ponders what exactly the difference is between what Eddie would call a hangout, and a date. He doesn't exactly have a lot of friends who he hangs out with. He has his colleagues at the plant, of course, who he'd always kept at a distance, which proved him right when they were all too ready to come for his Eddie last March. He has some neighbors he's friendly with; he helps them with a thing or two around their trailers and in return they share a beer or a smoke with him. But he wouldn't call that real friendship either. He has learned long ago how dangerous it can be to let people come too close. Some people only wanted certain things from him, others would judge him when they'd find out a thing too many about him. And the pain of losing a rare, true friend became all too clear to him back in Vietnam.

After that, he mainly stuck to himself. And then it became him and Eddie against the world. He never needed anyone else. He was good at being alone, after all. There was a certain level of comfort to be found in loneliness.

So this thing with Scott – whatever it is – is not something he can compare to anything else. The only thing he knows is that it's definitely not lonely. And that he doesn't want to mess it up and lose the only true friend he's had in decades.

'What's on your mind?' Scott asks when they sit down on a fallen tree at the edge of the lake to enjoy their coffee. 'You've been quiet.'

'I'm always quiet,' Wayne points out.

It makes Scott chuckle softly before he takes a sip of his coffee.

'Not as quiet as you think,' Scott says. 'Today, you're thinking loudly. I can almost hear your thoughts.'

Wayne carefully places his own mug on the tree, then grabs himself a cigarette and lights it, all to buy himself some time. But even after a long drag and another sip of coffee, he still doesn't quite know how to voice his thoughts.

'Was just admirin' the fall colors,' he decides to say instead, when the silence starts taking too long.

He can practically feel Scott's eyes on his face as he stubbornly stares over the water in front of them.

'It really is the perfect day to do that,' Scott finally says. Apparently he has decided he'll let Wayne get away with it this time. Or maybe it isn't like that. Maybe he decided that he'll allow Wayne the time he needs to sort out his thoughts before he can voice them. Maybe he understands that Wayne sometimes needs a while before he's ready to talk about things. Maybe he decided that he didn't want to intrude. Maybe he decided that he values spending time with Wayne, no matter if they're talking or sitting in silence. And maybe this fall will be a little less cold than the ones Wayne has gotten used to, because when he risks a glance towards his left, he sees Scott wearing a smile that's appreciative of the nature around them. It's a smile that warms Wayne from the inside, in a way that the heater in his trailer has never managed to do.

#it's been a while but look i'm back on my clarkson bullshit #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #clarkson my beloved #wayne munson #scott clarke #eddie munson #clarkson #wayne munson x scott clarke #stranger things #fruity ficlet

418 notes · View notes

nyaskitten · 2 months

Text

I hate how at some point they decided Zane would go all "my servos" "the 1s and 0s of my code" "oh this shit is so beyond what my circuits can process" THE WHOLE POINT OF ZANE IS THAT HE'S A ROBOT WHO BEHAVES INCREDIBLY HUMAN. I HATE THAT "my processors cannot comprehend this!!!!" BULLSHIT FREE MY FUCKING MAN

#ninjago #raine's rambles #zane ninjago #ninjago zane #zane julien #i dont even think about zane much but i should hes a great guy i fucking love zane ...#he doesnt deserve that bullshit

252 notes · View notes

mysteriosuke · 5 months

Text

actually it’s not okay to “warn” people of users who are ultimately just making content and not explicitly harassing people in the form of a completely public post. talk about it amongst your close friends or just block them instead.

whether you mean to or not, the result of this will be an influx of death threats among other things to the person you’re “just warning” about. especially when you have a large following of people who genuinely think it’s okay to harass others. even if you tell people not to harass them. it will happen. you’re not as mature as you think you are by calling a callout post a “warning post”.

the actual thing you should do, is block them, and move on with your life.

there are a lot of things i see on this site that disgust me to no end, but i am mature, and i block them. what’s your special little excuse?

and buddy, let me tell you. the warnings and death threats to people who aren’t actually hurting anyone… are NOT “protecting” as many people as you think they are. i would know. i speak from experience.

#renegade rambles #sick and tired of people labeling themselves as things so they can have this supposed moral superiority #in reality you need to fucking get a life #you’re not saving lives you’re just being pathetic.#go the fuck outside. get a better hobby.#renegade rants #fandom bullshit #fandom #fun fact this was about a user in the kirblr community #it’s insane watching this break containment

401 notes · View notes

beautifulhigh · 8 months

Text

Welcome to the next edition of Jen's meta ramblings

I have watched the movie at least once a day since it came out and I kid you not, I see something new every time. The fact that this is Matthew López's first directoral debut is just... I'm in awe. And you can tell how much he loves the story because of the way things like this are set up and played out

In the novel, Henry and Alex are skinny dipping in the lake at night, and so I absolutely got the change in both time of day and also attire. But let's talk about that little island shall we?

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea

Every single one of us is not meant to be alone, without connection and without a link to someone else. We are parts of a whole and if we lose that... well. It's not good.

Henry is on that island, our prince who belongs to Britain and Henry Fox who thinks he has to belong to himself. The prince is forced into status and circumstance, of appearances and mindless ribbon cuttings. When he does something that means something - like the trip to the cancer ward - then he doesn't do it with cameras. I'd argue he's not the prince there, he's Henry Fox. The man who lost his father to cancer.

But this is not that meta.

Henry has shut himself off, shut himself away. He doesn't date the people he's interested in, he doesn't live his truth (and for very good and valid reasons). He has decided that while Prince Henry belongs to Britain, Henry Fox is an island.

And look who is swimming up to that island. Look who is coming out to Henry, having realised the night before that oh yeah, I do feel forever about him and so Alex swims out to that island.

And the first thing he does? He makes Henry laugh. He is silly and fun and the complete antithesis of the composed and collected Prince of Wales. And then he joins Henry, on his island.

This gorgeous overhead shot shows us that Alex is putting himself on Henry's right (protocol or his good side?) but he's also in the centre of the island. He's not on the edge of it. In the metaphor of Henry Fox's island, Alex is putting himself at the heart of it all. RIght before he lays out his heart to Henry.

The shot that broke our hearts too, along with Henry's. Because we can see the shore in the background now. We're reminded that islands are not - they cannot be fully independent. People cannot be islands and even though Alex is literally and metaphorically planting himself at Henry's side, Henry knows that this island he's formed for himself in his heart and his sense of self cannot stand if Alex is there. If Alex is with him then he is no longer an island. Henry Fox will not belong to himself and the sense of protection and self-preservation we see coming out in the Storming of Kensington is under threat.

So he bails.

The island is submerged, like the mythical Atlantis, because how do you render land useless? Drown it. How do you deal with water? Drain it away. He abandons his island and flees back to the only other space he has left - Kensington Palace - in an attempt to regroup. He drains his life of Alex and what he brings. He has to return to being the Prince of Wales because Henry Fox got too close. Because Henry Fox realised he was being loved by a man who would literally swim out to where he is.

Moment of appreciation for the shot. Matthew, you have a fucking talent and I cannot wait to see what else you do. Because our #imtaller boy looks so small here. So lost. When else have we seen someone look so small and lost?

Oh. Yeah.

When he's curling in on himself in an almost last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his boundaries from what is coming. You can see that he's no longer dry, that Alex's "shower time" has changed him. Alex brought laughter and love and water onto his island and Henry has just realised what this means. This isn't a visitor's visa. This is immigration.

Which is what makes THIS so much more. Back to our boy, drenched from the storm, plaintively asking Henry to talk to him.

Because yes, the Storming of Kensington happens during an actual storm, but by now you know I overead into everything... so once again we have Alex "swimming" out to Henry. He's dived right in and gone are the jokes, gone is the humour. He is here and he is asking to be let in and daring Henry to send him away.

This is Alex, serious and in love and following Henry to whatever landmass he is setting foot on. Henry is trying to be an island and Alex is out here going, "I'll just build another boat you fucker". A true 'ship if you will. He swam out to an island on a lake, he flew to a tiny island across an ocean. He is standing at Henry's borders and he isn't launching an offensive. He's just saying that if Henry wants to be cut off from everything then he needs to do the cutting himself.

Prince Henry felt like he belonged to Britain, Henry Fox felt like he had to belong to himself, and Alex turned up and went "nope. Mine now". (Insert additional historical quip about the English being colonised for once.) But there is still some truth in that: the Prince is part of England, and we should all belong to ourselves even in relationships. Henry just learns that the different parts of him can co-exist. Bit like how water and land can co-exist without one destroying the other.

Henry is Alex's North Star but he's also his solid ground. Insert quip about Alex colonising Henry and claiming him for his own, planting of flag, your innuendo of choice goes here. Pyramus wished there wasn't a wall - Alex straight up scaled Henry's.

There's a divergence between Prince Henry and Henry Fox, but at the heart of them both there's Henry. And this is the man that Alex sees, this is the man that Alex loves. Alex swims out to the island for Henry Fox, Alex pushes through the rain for Prince Henry. Alex holds steady in the storm of talking with King James/Queen Mary and the public.

And it started with Alex literally making his way out to Henry on an island: be that England for the Royal Wedding, a pontoon island on a lake, or knocking down Henry's walls.

To this moment. Which is very hard to grab a screenshot of, but Alex asks Henry to "take a walk" with him. This time it's Henry going to/with Alex. The fact that he's there is one thing (and a rant rather than a meta) but at this point they have each other. They belong to each other. Where one of them goes, the other one follows. Independent, together, co-existing.

Anyway. I'm sure there will be more bullshit ramblings and metas at some point. Follow me if you want more of that (but be warned: blank and empty blogs are blocked on sight) because we are not islands in this metaphorical storm of life. Let us swim out to one another, dry off with one another, and live a life with broken down borders and walls.

ETA: I now have another name to add to the thanks. Stephen Goldblatt, from the bottom of my soul, thank you

345 notes · View notes

elvencantation · 6 months

Text

i feel like i get literal psychic damage when i think about capitalism too long

158 notes · View notes

amugoffandoms · 2 months

Text

"It's all for making something-Toks to sell your name. (Just for all your vanity, it's the worst, good night.)"

"No way I'm okay with ending it like this! I'm sure what we truly want isn't the money."

Cyberpunk Dead Boy Fuuta!! The second I heard the song, I was like I need to draw him in it right now. Here are the original shots!

Here are some banger versions of the song I listened to!:

English Cover by ami!

The PJSK Cover that I took the shots from!

The Original Song!

Under the cut is the original screenshots!

#mug draws #milgram #milgram fanart #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #should i ramble about my art in the tags uhh yes yes.#this song is so fuuta i dont even know.#the cover was the particular inspiration for making me draw this #IT'S BULLSHIT SO SAY BYE BYE TO THOSE MELODIES!! FUCK EVERYONE WHO LIES LIES FOR VIRALITY!!#this both looks and does not look like my art style.#PEN FADE TOOL IS A GOOD SHADER FOR HAIR ODDLY????#UM also the lyrics #there was spraypaint in the back of the second drawing and i was like. IT'S BACKDRAFT REFERENCE TIME.#DO YOU SEE THE FUUTA SILHOUETTE SPRAY PAINT?? WRNT CRAZY FOR THAT.#AND THE GUILTY ARROW YEAHHH #ohh i love this a lot :D

100 notes · View notes

aarkose · 2 years

Text

Everyone calls Dream a pathetic petty little baby girl and like, yeah he is - but

And the characters themselves are like Morpheus is cold, unfeeling, harsh, cruel and yeah he can be and he holds intense grudges - but

I haven't really seen anyone talk about the scene where he's facing the Corinthian, who Morpheus admits was his masterpiece. And our favourite nightmare pointedly says that Dream doesn't care about humanity. He only cares about himself, and his realm and his rules.

Morpheus sort of gets exasperated here, like really dude? And tells us he contains the entire collective unconscious, without his rules it would consume him and humanity. Like maybe he's been there before, or close to it. He admitted he lost an entire universe before because he didn't take out their vortex.

His voice trembles on the word consume, like its always there, ready to crush him, like he's constantly battling, like he's tired, like no one's ever really asked, understood or comprehended that before and he's admitting it for maybe the first time or it's one of the very few. And of all the beings he's admitting it to the Corinthian who throws it in his face.

Death more or less says dream mopes and he should get over it. Fiddler's Green insinuates he's almost incapable of apology or empathy. Lucienne believes he dismisses their efforts and that he's harsh with his punishments. Gault in their defiance tries to make him see that things should be capable of change and wanting something different.

No one seems to get the truth of him? Or part of it. Or if they do it's not apparent and it seems a great tragedy to me. When he says the entire collective unconscious, I'm assuming he means entire, as in not just human - as in all life including other species we don't know of, that are otherwise 'alien'. It seems almost unfathomable to me no one stops to think he's the way he is for a reason.

Every single unconscious thought, decision, fear, nightmare, dream, hope - anything and everything that can manifest in dreams from the nonsensical and absurd to disturbing and whimsical, including concepts we don't even understand as humans. That is what Morpheus is made of. The screams dying in throats as people wake from horrors, the reoccurring scenes of falling, being chased, being late, the grief from loved ones dying, flying, school, sex - the ones that don't make any sense.

The nightmares that are so real and strong you can't get back to sleep. The dreams that are so sweet or fantastic you wake up mourning their loss. Day dreams, dreams that pick up where they left off, lucid dreams, depraved and disturbing dreams. The little thoughts we have about others we'd never say out loud or tell another living soul but they exist. It's all real, part of what makes us who we are and every other being that can dream - no wonder Morpheus' voice trembles on the word consume. That has to be near maddening? Like he's riding the line between insanity at any given moment because dreams can be entirely bizarre as much as they can hold significant meaning.

So he mopes? He's distant? He's cruel or uncaring. Unfeeling in how he operates - I feel like I would be too if I contained the concepts of the entirety of existence - everything his siblings govern exists in his realm in the form of dreams. You can dream about desire, death, destruction, delirium, destiny, despair, all of it. He doesn't feel enough? Distant? Ungrateful?

I think he feels too much, way too much and he can only push it down so far, or hold it back just enough. It makes him seem so delicate in my mind, like those who bottle and bottle. Pushing everything down or back just to keep functioning and then one little thing makes them snap. Suddenly you've damned your former lover to ten thousand years in hell because that amount of time and processing doesn't seem unreasonable against the impossibly incomprehensible thing that is existences unconscious. Let's not forget the souls in hell or every other afterlife, if they also dream, the concept of dreams as goals, the act of dreaming, creation and destruction, every nasty little thought, every fucked up thing anyone has ever comprehended and every joy.

Maybe that's why everyone's harsh on him in my eyes, that he should have all this perspective but seemingly doesn't? But he believes what he does because he has that perspective and some things within that spectrum do not change, they repeat because there's only so much that can exist, and that has to be tiresome.

But honestly, the other Endless, dreams and nightmares should realise what he's dealing with? Especially those close to him, or orbiting because no one is ever really close, and if dreams and nightmares can dream then Morpheus should know those too. I'd probs keep everyone away from me if I was a scrambled construct of emotions.

Fuck me up honestly. My tiny human brain is snapping trying to even comprehend the inner workings of Dream. None of this even makes sense. Just let the man rest, give the baby girl some slack. He's got both feet off the edge and no one's got his back. I'm tired now.

TLDR: Dream probably is the way he is because being who he is, is a lot.

#the sandman #lord of dreams #dream of the endless #useless ramblings #the sandman meta #meta #netflix the sandman #the sandman spoilers #the sandman netflix #morpheus #lord morpheus #i'm sorry about this but I had to get it out #for safe keeping #my ramblings #neil gaiman #bunch of bullshit I word vomited for no reason

2K notes · View notes