Maybe this is the wrong platform to pose this question given the average tumblr user but
Is it just me or did our generation (those of is who are currently 20-30 ish) just not get the opportunity to be young in the 'standard' sense?
Like, everyone I talk to who's over 40 has all their wild stories about their teens and 20s, being young and dumb, and then I talk to my friends and coworkers and classmates, and we just... dont.
My mom tells stories of skipping school to sneak across the border and spend the day at a bar in Mexico. I was threatened with not being allowed to graduate because of senior ditch day. One of my friends had to go to his first hour class on senior ditch day because the teacher, who almost exclusively taught seniors, arranged a huge exam that day with no available makeup days, specifically to punish kids who took part in ditch day. Our wild and crazy ditch day was playing mini golf and then stopping for ice cream on our way back to one of our friends' houses to play cards against humanity.
Don't get me wrong, we had fun. But all of that, threats of not graduating, threats of failing classes over a single test, over some mini golf and ice cream?
Throughout high school and early in college, my friend group got kicked out of malls, stores, and even a parking lot just for being there wrong. Not being loud of disruptive. Not causing problems. Just being there too long, or without buying anything.
My mom graduated high school, after repeating her senior year, without a single grade above a D, and was offered a full ride scholarship to a state university to play on their women's football team. I had a 3.8 GPA, multiple extracurriculars, a summer job, and over 100 hours of volunteer work, and barely got into that same university, and then couldn't afford to go there anyway.
We've made getting into college so important and yet so difficult that kids are sacrificing their childhoods for it.
Then they become adults and it doesn't go away. Your employer/ potential employers are searching your social media and internet presence so you'd better hope no one has ever posted a picture of you at a party, or with alcohol, or wearing revealing clothes, or whatever else they've deemed unprofessional. And if you want to go out it's a 10 dollar cover and drinks are at least 8 dollars, and you need to tip if there's any kind of live entertainment, who can afford to do all that regularly?
My physical therapist, when I was 18, told me about his 21st birthday, how the last thing he remembers is people taking body shots off him. I spent my 21st birthday alone, was in bed by 10pm because I had to be at work the next morning. My boss had already told me that they knew it was my 21st, and if I called out, she'd write me up for improper use of sick leave because you're not allowed to use sick leave for a hangover. I don't know anyone whose 21st birthday was a big deal. No one went out and partied for it.
I dont really know where I'm going with all of this. I guess I just don't understand the point of it all. We spend our youth working hard to provide a future that we still can't afford. We have to be responsible and professional as teenagers. And we get nothing out of it. We can't afford life or friends or fun. At least our parents got to have fun being young and dumb, we just got groomed on kik.
I kept the photo below for years, just in case one day I could find a good reason to use it as an illustration of what is going on withâŠ
Original report (waybacked PDF) is from 2007. That's Gen Z kids.
When I, Gen-Xer, was about 12 - in my rural home, I had about a three-mile range. (Could've pushed it to more, but didn't want to walk that far.) In the city, it was about a mile. Not that anyone was checking; again, that was about the distance I wanted to walk, and besides, that covered all of "downtown."
My kids? Closer to that 300 yards limit at the same age. Not because I wanted to restrict them, but we live next to a freeway on-ramp and between two sets of train tracks... and there is absolutely nothing kid-friendly within a half-mile for them to visit.
I spent my 21st birthday bar-hopping. My kids spent their 21st birthdays at home with a nice meal. I don't think either of them wanted to go bar-hopping - but yeah, as a society, we've removed a LOT of teen-friendly options.
See also: End of Third Places, switch from video game arcades to home consoles (hey, then every kid has to buy their own copy--great for game-makers!), shutdown of malls or restrictions on youth at them, closure of public parks, reduced/removed after-school programs, etc. Plus the places that think it's illegal for a 12-year-old to walk to the corner store unsupervised.
I am, however, DELIGHTED to hear that the booze & other vices industries are panicking over Gen Z not going out to party. Like, you spent 30-odd years removing all the places and ways people can hang out together and have fun outside of someone's personal house, and... guess what, when people hit milestone events (graduation, milestone birthdays, job promotion, whatever), they don't immediately flock to the Party Zone that they have never been welcome at. How shocking.
It sucks that Gen Z does not get to party, does not have good celebration options. REALLY sucks that that's often because school or job has decided to tell them not to celebrate, rather than just not having places to go. I'm just not upset over party capitalism taking a hit.
oh yeah as a teen librarian also this is so fucking real. like, i was a square so i didn't do anything anyways as a teen, but i did notice that people didn't really....do much when i was in high school.
and nowadays?? we've made the bar so fucking high for these kids. i participated in this mock interview program as an interviewer guest from the library, where seniors would get a chance to pretend interview for a job with me to get some experience before they entered the workforce.
and my god. the resumes on these kids. they're pumped full of sports, arts, extracurriculars, awards, volunteer work, like 60% of them had already had at least one job, and at least 2 of them had already started their own fucking businesses.
like. i'm impressed of course, overall this isn't a terrible thing. but when do these kids get to take a break? when do ANY of us get to take a break?? we have made society so back-breaking that 15 year olds are starting businesses while they run the student council, attend five clubs, volunteer on the weekends, and do ever increasing mountains of homework to maintain a 4.0 GPA.
Like again. I was a fucking square in school. I had all A's in everything and i did extracurriculars, i even did some volunteer work here and there. but mostly i went home, i read books for fun, i went rambling in the woods near my house for no particular reason. i chilled out with my friends and doodled pictures and wrote piles of fanfiction. i spent so much time in high school just...relaxing and playing.
when are these kids getting time to do that, between all the stuff we expect of them? where are these kids getting the space to do that as we continue to push them out of every single physical space, because teens hanging out in a gaggle of friends is somehow threatening?
why are we expecting this much out of kids, out of young adults, while we refuse to offer even a fraction of what our parents and grandparents were given for a fraction of the work we're putting in?
we're running ourselves into the fucking ground. and for fucking what?
ty for the request!! :) | 1.1k words, eddie munson x fem!reader, implied depression, breakdown, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, jokes about snot ig? (idk how i got there), eddie being a gentle boyfriend, non-sexual nudity, unedited
Eddie had already knocked on the bathroom door twice to make sure she was alright.
Just a quick shower, sheâd told him with a kiss against his cheek before disappearing into the cramped bathroom of his trailer. Sheâd been having a bad day â nothing had even happened, but her brain had been against her since sheâd woken up, chest heavy and eyes stinging when she thought on it too much â so sheâd hoped a shower would be enough to help her feel even a little better. But sheâd been sat on the tiled floor for⊠well, she didnât even know how long. Long enough for Eddie to check on her twice.
Bang bang against the thin door, and then he called her name.
Enough for eddie to check on her three times.
She was hunched in on herself, tears that sheâd been holding back since she woke up coming out in hiccupy bursts, taking advantage of the noise of the shower so he couldnât hear her sobbing. Her arms were wrapped around her legs as she cried into her knees. She hadnât even washed her hair yet. Her body just felt so heavy, she wasnât even able to lift her head to answer him just blubbering more tears into the little space sheâd occupied for her misery.
âBabe?â He sounded more concerned, and when he didnât get a reply she heard the handle squeak. âIâm coming in, okay?â
She didnât look up. The door creaked and then shut, footsteps sounded across the floor until they stopped in front of the shower. Through her blurry vision she could see his legs in her peripheral.
âOh sweetheart.â
Eddie crouched next to the shower and she sobbed so harshly it made her chest hurt. Embarrassment stacked onto the already wobbling pile of shit she was feeling and she wasnât sure she could even take it. Everything was too much and now Eddie had seen.
âCan I touch you, sweet thing?â
She nodded as she sobbed again, rubbing at her face with her hands. His hand was large and warm against her back and she just cried harder. She didnât deserve him. She knew she didnât deserve him.
âIâm sorry,â she wept, the words sounded funny because of her tears. She still couldnât look at him. âI-Iâll get out-â
âHey,â his voice was so soft as he rubbed her back, the side of her boyfriend that not many other people got to see. This wasnât dungeon master guitarist Eddie, but her Eddie, the kind-hearted man who fed all of the stray cats in the trailer park, brought all his leftover Halloween candy in for the Hellfire boys the day after the holiday, who stroked her hair at night and kissed her face when she was sad, the man who held her doors for her and carried her bags for her. She loved him so much it hurt sometimes, that she was so undeserving. âWill you look at me, angel?â
Her bottom lip quivered as she tilted her head to look at him, hiccuping through another bout of tears at the sight of him there, crouched next to the floor of the shower, his eyes so soft and concerned.
âThereâs my pretty girl,â he lifted his hand from her back and cupped her face instead as she continued crying. âYou donât have to talk to me, baby, but are you hurt?â
She shook her head and sniffled.
âJust a bad time upstairs, yeah?â
She nodded.
He leaned forwards enough and stamped a kiss against her forehead, a second for good measure. âOkay, sweetheart, thatâs okay. If I knew Iâd have come and found you sooner. You couldâve been all dramatic and cried into my shoulder, got snot on my shirt and everything then I wouldâve really known you were sad.â
She smiled slightly and she saw in his face that he was relieved his words were helping if even a little.
âIâm gonna get you cleaned up then weâre gonna go and lay down, howâs that sound?â
She hiccuped through another jerky sob and nodded, his contact loosening her enough that she had no chance of holding any tears back now. But he didnât mind, just smiled and kissed her temple.
âAlright, angel, can you turn around for me?â
Eddie took his time. Spent ages massaging his fingers into her scalp as he worked the shampoo into her hair, and gave her neck and shoulders a little massage before he rinsed her hair. He took the same amount of care with working the conditioner through her strands, and when he bubbled up her loofa with her body wash he kissed every limb once heâd rinsed it off. He just kept making her cry. He was so kind. Kind enough to her to make up for when she wasnât kind enough to herself on her bad days.
Eddie finally shut the water off and wrapped her in a towel, her hair in a second one. By that point she couldnât help herself, just clung to him before he could encourage her to sit down, sniffling against the warm skin of his neck.
âHey there,â he wrapped his large arms around her and squeezed tightly, like he was wringing out any remaining sadness. She just squeezed him back the same. âI was kidding about the whole snotting on me thing but you can if it makes you feel better.â
She managed a slight smile and shook her head, exhaling all shuddery against his collarbone where she kept her head tucked. âThank you.â
She finally managed, which just caused another wave of tears.
âYou donât have to thank me, baby,â he dropped kiss after kiss to any exposed skin on her face. âJust fulfilling my duties.â
She sniffled against his collar. âIâm sorry,â she hiccuped. âI donât know whatâs wrong with me.â
âNothing,â Eddie instantly soothed, all joking gone from his voice as his hand rubbed firm lines into her back. âYouâre just overwhelmed, yeah?â She nodded and he kissed her temple again. âWeâre gonna get you dressed then into bed, and Iâll do literally whatever you want until those pretty eyes stop crying. Okay?â
âOkay.â She hiccuped, nodded.
Eddieâs large hands cupped either side of her face and encouraged her away from his shoulder, another kiss pressed to her forehead as he wiped at her tears. âSo pretty even when youâre crying, I donât know how you do it,â he made a show of pretending to wipe under her nose then wiped his hand on his shirt. âYuck.â
She managed a wet giggle, and his relieved smile at the sound was everything.
She was going to be okay.
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The rain pattering at the windows and the soft whooshing sound of the ceiling fan. Youâre sitting in the middle of the bed with legs cross-crossed, elbow leaning on one knee and your head resting even heavier against your palm.
You watch another commercial on the TV, your thoughts spiraling, not letting you focus on much more than the crushing sadness youâd been feeling since you woke up that morning.
The hand that touches your back kickstarts the tears. It rubs soothing circles back and forth, up and down, as you shake with the force of your sobs.
âLet it all out, baby.â
Thatâs it.
Iâve got you.
And maybe that makes you cry harder. Eddieâs voice is like a warm balm on everything that felt wrong about the day.
His hand sinks into your hair, gently pulling you closer while pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head.
âWanna talk about it?â
You shake your head into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent, wanting nothing more right now than his touch.
meeting up with someone with the explicit goal of figuring out whether or not you want a relationship with them spoils the dynamic. it sucks. it's terrible. fall in love with your friends like normal people.
disability advocacy went wrong when it became about inspiration porn and âdifferently abledâ and savants. its incredible that that guy with no legs did a triathlon but your sister with no legs will not and she doesnt need prosthetics or five hour training days to deserve respect and compassion and accommodations. its incredible that that autistic guy can look at a city from a helicopter for an hour and then draw the entire detailed skyline from memory when he lands but your autistic friend cannot and they dont need to have a special Autism Power to deserve respect and compassion and accommodations.Â
activism framed around âwe are just as CAPABLEâ means that when people genuinely are less capable they are left behind. activism framed around âwe are just as WORTHYâ is fundamental to radical compassion.
I have come up with a better metaphor than âyou canât pour from an empty cupâ for burnout. You canât boil an empty kettle. Pouring from an empty cup just gets you nowhere. Trying to boil an empty kettle can ruin the kettle, the stove, and burn down your house if you keep trying it.
Your head lays against the side of the porcelain tub as your lower half is submerged beneath the warm bubble bath. The scent of lavender and bergamot filling the room, helping to ease your mind along with the velvety voice speaking so softly next to you.
An arm hangs over the side, your hand holding onto his knee as he sits on the bathroom floor next to the tub. Your thumb absentmindedly brushes along the hairs scattered across his knee before his hand covers yours, squeezing it a few times before lacing your fingers together.
With eyes closed, you listen as Eddie reads to you from your favorite book. A soft request after another day of hell at the office, wishing for a comfort only heâs able to give you. The comfort and safety of his presence.
You sigh as you hear the flip of another page, sinking into the warmth of the water. The warmth of his voice.
The warmth of him.
âSweetheart.â His lilting voice stirs you from the half asleep haze you were drifting into.
You hum in response as he begins tapping a finger against your hand, lightly drumming out the beat to a song you know so well.
A gentle 1-2-3.
âI think we better get you out of there before you shrivel up.â
You huff, pouting as he stands to drain the tub and grab your towel from the counter.
âIâm so sleepy, Eds.â
You stand and take the towel from his outstretched hand as the squeaky whine leaves you. The sound does nothing but cause the smile on Eddieâs face to grow, making his heart swell with how adorable this sleepy version of you was.
After you towel off, he wraps your robe around you, rubbing your arms a bit before youâre melting into him. Your body collapsing into him as your nose digs into his neck, taking in that woodsy scent of his.
He leads you to bed, with a snort as you try to burrow into him, trying to get closer, wishing you could just sink into his skin.
Youâre asleep before he can even lean over and click the lamp off.
Book/quote mentioned is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.
Whispered words as Eddie nuzzles his nose against the top of your head, holding you tight as he breathes you in, swaying with you in his arms while sitting back against the headboard.
Youâre not sure what set you off. You only knew you felt off.
It was an agitation that had been building from the moment you opened your eyes and readied yourself for work. Following you through the day as you completed your mental work to-do list.
âIâve got you, sweetheart.â
Another kiss to your temple as you curl yourself further against him with your face burying into his chest, legs thrown over his lap as your hands cling to his waist.
Eddie knew as soon as he laid eyes on you when he hopped out of his truck, getting home at the same time as you for once. Like he knew.
Concern flashed across his face so fast you almost missed it before his sweet, dimpled smile took over. Cooing his gentle greeting as his warm arms wrapped around you, squeezing a bit tighter than usual.
That was a half hour ago.
The tears kept coming and going as you held onto Eddie as if his arms were the only thing keeping you from floating away.
You took a shaky breath in as another sob left you, breathing in his warm bergamot scent mixed with the cigarette you know he had on his way home.
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