Heard Someone Say Archive Of Our Own Should Install A "dislike" Button And I Thought I Should Say This:

*grips your shoulders tightly* listen to me. you HAVE to make stobin weirder, okay? you have to make them the embodiment of that Secret Third Thing™️. they’re those cats at a shelter that you can’t separate for anything. make them do examinations of each others bodies cause they’re worried about a health issue. make them share a single piece of gum. make them swap pronouns and names and clothes on a regular basis. make them shower together. i need one of the kids to call for steve in a different room and have robin come to help instead because they’re one person. i need steve to show up to work wearing robins tag cause she’s too sick to come in. they have to get weirder, do you understand? it’s for their health.

Kendrick: America is built off of the backs of slaves whose descendants, who were promised freedom and reparations they never got, are now being told that they're not good enough for this country. We're told that we're too black, we're too ghetto, we make everything too political. The elite like to watch us fight amongst ourselves because that way they'll be safe from the consequences of their actions.

Y'all: HAHA wow, Kendrick played Not Like Us!!! Everyone called Drake a pedophile!!! Kendrick is such a hater about This One Guy and This One Guy Only, this is a single instance after all, that's so funny. Anyway (proceeds to never interact with anything else he makes ever again)

He's not evil he's just drawn that way.

YEAH? AND?

I think you’d have to tell Steve if he was being bullied. Even after he fell off the social ladder, I just don’t think he’d notice because his old friends were assholes anyways and why would someone do that? To him??

However, I think you’d also have to tell Steve that no, Ms Byers doesn’t hate him just because she said ‘Morning’ when he went into Melvards instead of ‘Good morning.’

joining tumblr for the first time now is like in movies when the city kid goes to the small small small town and someone there is like “we ain’t got nona that weefee or whatever but we’s got Jimbo who yells the news and that’s good enough” and points to Jimbo who is currently asleep on his rocker

Except for us it’s like “we ain’t got no al-go-rithm but we do have haiku-bot and that one destiel screengrab that tells us the news and that’s good enough”

You Can’t Find My House

I just got off the phone with mom, and we came to the realization that my family has lived in a series of unplottable houses for a couple generations now.

-The First Unplottable House is on my dad’s side of the family, in Delphi, Iowa.  The directions to it are the stuff of Buried Treasure:  Turn off the county road with a fraction in it’s name, to the Named Dirt Road, then turn at The Discount Eggs Sign on to the Unnamed dirt road that takes a meandering path THROUGH a corn field, DO NOT take any forks on that road or the farmer will shoot your ass, then take the paved road that dead-ends on ALL the way to the end- No, farther, the road keeps going it’s not a cliff-The only indication that You Have Arrived At The Correct Driveway is that a fat gray pony will charge the car, screaming, then escort you the rest of the way there.

It’s on the side of an enormous river, they’ve owned the property since 1911, and that’s the ONLY route there.

-The Second Unplottable house is in Bedford, Ohio and belonged to my mother’s parents.  It’s at the corner of two side-streets, right across from the tiny Italian grocery store.  Due to strange development decisions, the house is about 30 feet above street level and rendered invisible by a chestnut tree so majestic Hyao Myazaki would probably put it in a movie.  The driveway, however, is VERY visible from any of the surrounding houses, the grocer, or the street.  

At least in theory and old photos, becuase if you actually GO there,  your eyes slide right past it to the neighbor’s lillac bush, or to the retro neons of the grocery store or up the Chestnut tree.  it is literally HARD to look at that driveway, all the world around it wants to pull you away.

-The Third Unplottable house is in Salinas, CA, home of my paternal grandparents.  It is the single most BORING house possible- like, if you were to ask a third-grader to draw a prototypical house, they would draw my grandparent’s house.  Utterly Unremarkable. 

Except for the part where my Grandfather, spurred by his success with the “non-fruiting” peach tree, decided to plant a California Redwood Tree, and it grew to approximately 150 feet over the course of a few short decades.  It is the tallest damn thing for miles around, and SOMEHOW deliveries keep being missed, mail is delivered to the neighbors, and any non-blood family that tried to visit would end up on the other side of town.

-The Fourth Unplottable House was the one I grew up in CA.  The Directions to it are as follows:  It’s the Bright Orange house Right Across From The School.  You know, the one with six flamingos and the Volunteer Avacado Tree.

SOMEHOW, we got everyone’s mail but OURS (we still wonder about the letter from Fort Knox for Mr. Thomas Saxophone), the other kids got lost trying to visit and ended up in Mr.Phan’s yard on the other end of the block.  Officer Brown, Mom and Dad’s friend, who had GPS back in the early 90′s becuase silicon valley, regularly got lost looking for our place.  The Flamingos did nothing.

-My parent’s current house is the second house on the right  after two right turns off the state highway that runs through town.  Sounds easy, right?  

Except that due to a couple small trees and a bend in the road, the house is invisible from the road.  I have to stand out in the road if i want my pizza delivered.  The Mailman is the only person who could reliably find the box, but he drives a subaru that’s older than my sister from the passenger side by leaning over, and delivers mail based on the aztec lunar calendar, so he’s probably not actually human.  I tried to host a party, tied rainbow balloons to the mailbox, and all nine friends had to be waved in from the street.

-My current apartment building Does Not Exist, according to my Bank, medicaid, Google, and City Hall which was a bit exciting when I first moved in and had to call everyone that yes, I was sitting in a building that really exists.   

Unless it’s my classmates, becuase they can apparently come to parties I don’t host. This Friday I had a friend telling me she had a great time at my place last Teusday… when I was home alone.  She assures me that I held a houseparty with “Those polish things you make” (I make great mini klatchky, but haven’t served them to her) and that “You were definitely there, we talked about Carvaggio and you drive me home”

The real fun is that Eddie and Steve switch off on who looks like a homeless man and who looks like a hooker. Never know what you're gonna get

Am I the only one who thinks that Steve, Dustin, and Eddie's relationship perfectly fits that one audio that goes like:

I got three looks, and that's it.

a homeless man

a twelve year old boy

and a hooker.

just sayin.