Before Social Media I Think Fat Jokes About Vince Could Go Far As Back When The Band Came Back For Generation

I was in the middle of making a Jesse pinkman headcannon post & totally forgot to save my progress. I lost half of everything i wrote down.

fml.

MY GOD THIS IS SO COOL I BEVER NOTICED.

just noticed something in hobies intro...

before he enters the scene, this is the messaging broadcast all across his london:

OBEY. DO NOT QUESTION. CONSUME.

on every screen and surface and outlet, thats the message ordered by the government and the media and the system. to conform. to follow orders. to submit. to live and die by the establishment.

then after Hobie enters the scene with his unauthorized political action art pieces and, figuratively and literally, disrupts the narrative, the message, his message, rewrites it all and changes it all to

FREEDOM. JOY. LIVE FREE. LOVE EACH OTHER.

KINDNESS AND FREEDOM is the battlecry and message Hobie brings to his world as Spider-Man.

Kindness is Punk.

kindness and freedom despite everything IS punk. and Hobie destroying the system with that is so fucking powerful and beautiful. he is the embodiment of punk, and its not just an aesthetic. even if he wasnt aesthetically punk, he would still be punk because punk IS his character, it is his values, his morals, his message.

gods i just keep finding more reasons to love Hobie so deeply. he's genuinely one of, if not, the most inspiring character i have ever witnessed in media.

for @eicstheband

guys im making a fic but idk if I want to make it TheDirt!NikkiSkxx x Reader or not… what do u guys think…

LITERALLY‼️‼️‼️‼️

A little bit of me dies everytime I see y’all hc Hobie as this mean toxic punk rockstar boyfriend. Like tell me where in the fucking flim was he rude once. He literally helped Miles despite barely know him, he’s friends with Pavitr they even have a handshake, he let Gwen crash in his universe because she was homeless. Also to the people who say he is stinky and wouldn’t take care of his hair. Y’all are so fucking annoying and clearly don’t know how black hair works, especially wicks or any form of locs. Like hobie is the most kind and caring person around. He definitely wouldn’t abuse you, lay hands on you or cheat on you. Also his whole “I don’t believe in labels or I don’t believe in consistency” was a quip, a fucking joke all spider variants make stupid quip’s underneath the mask😭. Stop making that his whole fucking personality and stop using that to undermine his punk values. It’s like with Pavitr’s “chai tea” joke y’all made it that kids whole personality trait 😭.

Maybe I’m reaching with this but a lot y’all’s hc are starting to be Anti-black

To the next person who hcs him as toxic mean person I’m in your walls and I’m stealing your favorite things.

What’s all this talk about Vince falling he picked himself right back up

I KNOW DUDE

like everybody I’ve seen talk about him falling are all making fun of him as if he hasn’t fallen on stage before????

Like leave the guy alone Jesus Christ

God forbid someone makes a mistake on stage !

Had one for the first time last year when summer was ending, almost died.

(it was the lemonade flavored one)

was i scared i was gunna die in my sleep? yes

will i try it again?.. yes

the 80's is taking over my fucking mind...

i need lita ford and nikki sixx in my bed right now. they're the loves of my life you guys dosnt understand!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE LITA IN THE "KISS MY DEADLY" MUSIC VIDEO... GODDD!!

i feel like a teenage boy when i watch it.

i love them so much.

runs around and crashes into a wall, falls over and bleeds everywhere then explodes.

This whole board is so me fr!!

☣ more middle regression by autistic user ☣

felt like dying when i read this but VMPRYIAs WRITNG >>

ok respectfully you’re writing is absolutely ethereal😭. Anyways I have a prompt that may get you to write something for the SF fandom (I’m very fixated on it and I can’t find decent content lol)

~ok so yk how Sal is on that killing spree to free everyone from the red eyed demon thing? What if the reader had been living there and now he has to kill them? Idk I just feel very angsty today

(have a lovely day 💜)

SAL FISHER X READER: the end.

i am putting a gun to my head, this was agony. i did some small research on how it feels like to be stabbed so my description is a bit detailed. i tried to expand on the feelings sal felt as he did this :( i hope i did the scene justice and i hope you enjoy! reblogs & replies help me be motivated!

TW — murder, blood, depictions of stabbing and death. angst.

sal’s chest felt heavy.

this felt like a scene straight from his nightmares, but no — it was real.

his eyes were clouded with tears, his lip quivering. his tears stained his skin and the inside of his prosthetic. he stood over the corpse of soda and faced chug’s bloodied corpse.

“i—i’m sorry.” sal stuttered.

in his hand he held the knife.

he wanted to die, he wanted to stab himself just like how he stabbed the others.

first, he lost larry. larry, his best friend. his brother. the demon was beginning to take over him leading him to do the did the only thing he could — drank himself to death to avoid having his soul taken away from him.

then, terrance.

the little boy broke the heartbreaking reality to him.

to save them all, he had to kill them.

sal didn’t want to, he didn’t want to hurt them. his friends, his family.. but, it was either save them by killing them or lose them to the demon’s power.

the world wouldn’t understand, but at least he did. at least he knew that this was the easy way out.

sniffling, he stumbled to the door of chug’s apartment and then walked out.

his grip on the knife was tight, the the sudden realization of what was next almost made his collapse.

you.

you were next on his list, you.

his girlfriend, his everything, his confidant. you. he had to kill you next.

his stomach twisted, the anxiety, the fear, the grief, the pain. it was all too much, he felt nauseous, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

he wanted to be with his mom.

he wanted to be cradled by her, to have his face pressed against his mother’s chest as he wept away the fear of this nightmare. he wanted her to gently pet his hair and reassure him — ‘it was just a nightmare, dear. it’s okay, mommy’s here and she’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.’

but no, his mom wasn’t there. she wasn’t going to hold him, she wasn’t going to tell him he would be okay. she wasn’t there.

and now, you weren’t going to be there either.

you had been the one he cried to when he felt the grief of his mother’s passing, you had been there. you had always been there. you listened to him, you held him, you cried with him.

and now he was going to lose you.

who was he going to cry to after this? his dad is dead, larry is dead, you’ll be dead soon. who was going to hold him and reassure him he did the right thing?

you weren’t gone yet, but he was already mourning.

the walk to your apartment felt like he was walking to his doom, which honestly felt like he was.

he had sobbed as he went up to the floor you lived in, he moved his prosthetic to wipe his tears and now he was in front of your apartment door.

it was time.

opening the door with the spare key you had gifted him during your first year anniversary, sal stepped inside.

the apartment smelled like you, he could smell the sweet candles you had set up around the house, they were vanilla scented.

he always loved the smell of your apartment.

“hello?” you called from your bedroom.

sal froze at the sound of your voice, soft and his favorite. he loved your voice, he could fall asleep to you just rambling.

you entered the front area and saw sal, a bright smile spread on your lips almost immediately. “sal!” you said happily.

you could tell he didn’t seem lively, the knife was in his back pocket, hidden from your view.

looking at his hands, you saw the blood that stained them, then you noticed a bit of blood on his mask. “sal?!” you said in alarm, walking closer. “are you hurt? are you okay? what happened?” you asked, concerned for him.

he’s going to miss you, so, so much.

he was going to miss the way you smiled, the way your eyes crikled, the way you pursed you lips when you focused on something, your laugh, the way you lit up the room, your hair, you skin, your style, your art, your music taste, your everything.

he was going to miss how you always shared snacks with him, how you always called him at night while he was in the suburbs, how you would arrange study dates. how you would hold his hand tightly and point out every single thing you liked, how you cared about him.

he was going to miss how you—

“sal?” you asked, standing in front of him , your eyebrows furrowed up in worry for his wellbeing.

he wasn’t going to miss this, what he was going to do to you.

“i love you.” sal said, his hand reaching to his back pocket.

you laughed, “i love you too! what’s happening?” you smiled, an eyebrow raised in confusion. sal’s hand gripped the base of his knife.

“please forgive me.” he whispered, you could feel his heavy gaze behind his mask, the way his voice cracked, was he crying?

you looked down at his hand, watching as it reached for the back of his pocket, you then saw the blade that peaked from behind him, stained and bloodied.

you stepped back, “sal? sal— what..what is going on?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh as you stepped away from him.

you heard a muffled sob come from him, “please, y/n. please forgive me, this is the only—way.” he said, you could hear the pain behind his voice, he was now gripping the knife by his side.

“the only way for what? sal, s—sal, please put the knife down, what’s going on?” you asked frantically as you tried to step away from him.

sal’s vision was cloudy from the tears, his already broken heart shattering as he watched the fear in your eyes. “the d—demon, it..i need to save you, please..” he sobbed, stepping closer.

you pressed against the wall and watched desperately as sal stalked closer to you.

“i love you, y/n.” sal whispered.

he stood in front of you, his shoulders shook as you stared at him. you were at a loss for words, your eyes were wide in fear, tears quietly streamed down your cheeks.

sal’s grip on the knife got tighter, his knuckles turning white. “say it back—“ he sobbed, “p—please, say you love me.” he cried.

he was begging, pleading for you to say your words to him.

“s—sal—“ you stuttered fearfully, “i love y—you, i always have.” you sobbed, your gaze moving down to his knife.

“please don’t—“ you pleaded, sal gulped and shook his head. “i know it might not look like it..b-but i’m saving you, i promise.” he stumbled.

he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have the strength to lift the knife and puncture your stomach.

you stared at him fearfully, you never understood much of the paranormal activity, you only knew a surface level of information, but you trusted him.

how silly.

he’s about to kill you, but you trusted his word. he had always been the person you most relied on.

a sudden punch was felt against your abdomen.

one, and another, and another.

you didn’t register the fact he had stabbed you yet, the adrenaline rush hiding the agonizing pain that would soon take over.

looking down, you watched as sal removed his knife from your stomach. your blood was oozing out, staining your clothes and then you felt it—

it felt like a searing pain in your skin, your organs had ruptured at the impact and now you were left in agony.

a choked cry left your lips as you tried to cradle your wounds, your knees feeling weak, and then your screamed. a gurgly guttural scream, one that displayed the agony you felt as your wounds seared.

you collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud.

sal stood over you, he was taking off his prosthetic.

dropping it down to the floor, he sank down to his knees and he was quick to hold you. he could feel your warm blood staining his shirt as he held you.

your hearing was muffled, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, you could hear your blood streaming through your body and your pulse.

it hurt so much you couldn’t even speak.

your breathing got fast, you felt yourself gasping for air. your chest hurt, you couldn’t breathe— your mouth began to fill with a metallic liquid.

blood began to spill from your mouth, your coughs were gurgled.

your body was moving with every sob that came from sal. his grip on your was deadly. he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to savor the warmth of your body one last time.

now he was weeping, his sobs were loud and guttural, he wanted you back. he wanted you to hold him, to tell him you were fine.

he had envisioned himself growing old with you.

he even thought about marrying you when he finished his studies, he wanted to have a family with you. it all sounded so stupid now, but he was envisioning the life he could’ve had with you.

he babbled various ‘i love you’s’ as he held you.

his voice was muffled for you.

you were so tired.

your eyes got heavy, your strength was depleted. you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to speak.

you couldn’t.

it hurt, everything hurt so much.

your airways filled with mucus, your breathing got nasally and scratchy.

you weakly held sal’s hand for one last time and then your eyes slipped shut.

two more breaths passed and suddenly it all stopped.

sal sore that time stopped.

your grip stopped and your body went limp.

looking down at you, sal let out a sob, his face was tear-filled and red. his heart was broken.

first his mom, then larry, then his dad and lisa, everyone — and finally you.

the people he most deeply cared about were gone, and it was all because of him. he did this, the guilt that overcame his body was immense. he thought about stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen and twisting it, to feel the same pain you felt.

but he was scared.

deep down, he was just a small child, one that grew up alone, the only people that accepted him were gone.

now, he was left alone.

just how it started.