Exert From The Strangers' Picnic

do you ever get drunk enough that you low key think being a boy would be nice, or like an androgynous point in space and time

yall hear me out - forced bonding because Tyler isn’t enough of an asshole to leave Javi alone when he’s in the middle of a panic attack???

Also it’s harder to hate a dude when you know his traumatic past, survivor guilt, and terrible coping skills

Because maybe Bradley burned down all of his bridges, but Jake never had any to begin with.

third times the charm by sapphic_terror on ao3 :)

yes all my favorite characters are desperate to be loved. no i don’t think that says anything about me

lowky fighting the urge to just never forgive my father

Unethical polyamory not in the sense that the partners aren't consenting to multiple relationships but in the sense that they kill people as a group

and we were supposed to be the saviors. the generation to fix it all. but they left us with a broken planet and no tools to fix it and then they sneered when we came to them, empty handed.

“you’re so privileged,” they chortle. “it’s because you’re always on your phone.”

we are the kids living in a nightmare. they say we’re numb to 9/11 but maybe that’s because what was the worst day for them could become just another thursday for us. school shootings every other day and a rapist on our Supreme Court but hey, that’s how it is, right? at least we have memes to tide us over until doomsday. this hellscape is somehow normal. our president says people should be deporting for kneeling during the national anthem and all we can is laugh at it. but we are no longer laughing because it’s a joke.

we’re laughing because we’re afraid.

afraid that the world is going to end before we even become adults, afraid that we’ll be plunged into another war because of a fucking tweet, afraid of shooters coming in through our doors and children being taken from their homes and the problem is that our fear is justified. that it’s real and it’s happening.

nearly everyone i know is queer, depressed, and/or sick of the adults in this world. sick of how 71% of our pollution is caused by 1% of the population. sick of how we can only sit here and listen to them tell us to take shorter showers because there’s nothing else we can do.

and fuck, have we tried to do everything we can. walk-outs, protests, boycotts. speak up and speak out, but it’s just too late. they’ve been digging underneath us this whole time and it’s only now that the floor’s collapsing that we see the pit. how it’s not that they’re not hearing us anymore. trust me, we’ve made sure they’ve heard. it’s just that they don’t care.

and suddenly all those dystopian futures don’t look so far away. you know, where people die in the streets because doctors refuse to see them. where people are silenced (shot, jailed, deported) for speaking out. sometimes I think I’ll wake up and everyone will be marching in rhythm.

they told us to save the world, but we never had a chance.

“And when they speak of Troy, they speak of Helen who fled with Paris for love, and this inspires verse. Not Briseis, who lost all, all she ever loved and was used as barter in a war that wasn’t hers. Not Cassandra, who tried to warn them but was called liar because of a Gods curse. Not Hecuba, who was forced to give all her children to this cruel beast she knew would never be satisfied. Not Andromache, who lost her beloved husband Hector to a battle he should not have had to fight, and her baby to the ruthlessness of the victors and their spite. I suppose as a woman your value in war is simply casualty if your face isn’t synonymous with devastating beauty, that powerful men wish to possess and claim so much, that they will launch a thousand ships in their own misplaced honour, yet blame it on your name.”

— Nikita Gill, Woman of Troy

Lottie Matthew’s is indeed that father you didn’t want who stepped up (seriously, Shauna hide your babies Lottie wants to raise them)