eldritchnamedjack - Tumblr blog

[eldritchnamedjack]

[eldritchnamedjack]

You know how you can tell who a true bratty bottom is? When you call your dog a bratty bottom and your spouse gets offended. Saying they are the only bratty bottom allowed in the house.....

[eldritchnamedjack]

March will be filled with happiness.

March will be filled with positivity.

March will be filled with progress.

March will be filled with opportunity.

March will be filled with kindness.

March will be filled with love.

[eldritchnamedjack]

reblog if you’re part of the holy trinity of ignored sexualities

pansexual, bisexual, asexual

[eldritchnamedjack]

So, in the past 24 hours, I’ve cut friends and family out for voting for Trump. I’m a pansexual BIPOC trans man in an interracial relationship with a non-binary person in the south..... These people know this and still voted because “he’s not that bad” and apparently I’m “overreacting”. My former sisters also constantly misgender me and ignore the fact that my sperm donor (bio father and their dad too) tried to murder me when I was a 4; a fact they believe to be fake and want me to just let go of now that he’s dead.

So, I’m taking applications for new family members and friends.

I will compliment your art/hobbies, try to adopt your pets, give you advice or a shoulder to cry on, physically fight anyone who tries to hurt you, send you random shit that I think you’ll find funny and fanboy with you about things. Also I will literally send you gifts and cards for the holidays if you let me.

-Jem

[eldritchnamedjack]

I’m so sick of all of these posts about how “no matter who wins we’re all one country. We need to call whoever wins ‘my president’ and respect them. And you can have different opinions and still be friends.”

I’m sorry (not sorry), but. No.

Because if by “disagree” you mean I have to be ok with my “friend” believing me and my friends and lots of other folks don’t deserve the same rights just because of our sex, race, national origin, sexual orientation, etc., that’s not a difference of opinion. That’s a fundamental difference of morals. That’s a human rights issue. And if you don’t believe that people matter and deserve to love, be loved, get medical treatment, decide what happens to their body, to thrive and grow, I can’t be friends with you.

If by disagree you mean we have different opinions on whether pineapple should be on pizza, who the best Harry Potter ship is, or who your favorite sailor guardian is, then I can deal. But don’t look me in the eyes and tell me that I need to get over myself and allow you to take away peoples rights and still treat that as a valid opinion.

[eldritchnamedjack]

“Summer of 85″ Zine Giveaway

You have the chance to win one of three Zines on either tumblt, twitter and instagram! Make sure to join!

Rules:

-Follow “summerof85zine” on tumblr

-Reblog this Post

-Like this Post

Giveway ends August 23th. The thre winners will be announced August 25th

Good Luck!

[eldritchnamedjack]

Are you a green witch?💵💸💰This is a money spell: sending good vibes so you can pay your bills and buy something nice. Like to charge, Reblog to cast!

[eldritchnamedjack]

Emoji spell to earn $500 from any positive source source in the very near future

🔮🕯️➡️📥💚💵💰5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣💰💵💚📥⬅️🕯️🔮

Likes to charge, reblogs to cast! <3

[eldritchnamedjack]

🌠 Reblog to attract wealth and abundance 🌠

[eldritchnamedjack]

That sure is a portent

[eldritchnamedjack]

Queer people can't ignore BLM when signs from the LGBT rights movement could easily be used for BLM today.

We only have parades because we had riots.

"Blue fascism must go!" - 1967:

"Why are the cops fascinated by us?" - c. 1970:

"Police & gvt violence increases daily - against the poor, minorities, women & gays. Are you next? Fight back!! For all of us! & For your own life!" - 1982:

"Stop perverted cops." - c. 1990:

"Mourn the dead, fight like hell for the living." - 1992:

"How many more have to die?" - 1993:

"NYPD: your bullets are racist." - 1999:

This year, pride isn't cancelled - it's focused. Focused on the black LGBT people who fought for us and with us all along. Wake up!

[eldritchnamedjack]

I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THERE ISNT A SHADY NETWORK OF ANTIFA PROTESTORS WITH BILLIONAIRE MONEY BECAUSE IF THERE WAS I WOULD ALREADY BE A MEMBER LIKE HOLY SHIT CAN YOU IMAGINE

FUCK THIS PATREON SHIT IF THERE WAS A BILLIONAIRE PROTECTING ME FROM THE LEGAL CONCEQUENCES I WOULD FIREBOMB A COP FOR A BAG OF GUMMY WORMS

[eldritchnamedjack]

Watching the Clouds Go By #1

TRIGGER WARNING: talks of rape, domestic violence, and abuse

{So, here we are. The beginning of working through over 25 years of trauma. I don’t really know how to start things. So, I’m just gonna do the best I can and start with before I was born, leading up to my birth for this post. Again, names have been changed and I don’t mind questions on anything I’ve written. -Jem}

My mother Winnie was born in ‘67 on the same day JFK was assassinated 4 years earlier. Yea... I know. Weird way to start this off but it seems right for my life. My mom was born to a white mother and a black father. Now, I know this doesn’t seem like a big deal now; but back then interracial marriage had just been allowed so really big issue.

I don’t know much about my biological dad. I know his name was Frank, that he was a Leo and was a repeat offender. I say was because he died last year, but we’ll get to that later. I didn't call him dad and I still don’t; when I refer to him as my “sperm donor” there is a reason; we will also get to that later.

I’m not sure when my parents met, but I know Frank was possessive of my mother from day one. A sign of what was to come of you ask me. I’ll skip the back and forth of their dating and go ahead to my mom founding out she’s pregnant.

My mom was sick for a while when she found out she was pregnant. When I say a while, I mean for almost 3 years. When she finally went to the doctor, he wanted to run a full panel and give her every single test they could.

I want to stop for a second. Real talk. What I’m about to say is not something I say lightly. It’s not something many people know about my mom. It’s not something I’d ever thought I’d tell the world. But as we go on, what I’m about to say, will explain some of my mother’s mannerisms later in my life. It does not excuse them, it explains them.

When the doctor came back, everything was fine with me. I was a perfectly healthy fetus. My mom, on the other hand, was not. After running several tests to double-check, the doctor finally told my mother she had tested positive for HIV.

To be honest I don’t know how my mom took the news; she’s never told me. To have a joyful moment like being told you have a healthy baby sullied by being told you have a terminal illness. An illness they told people you could only get from being a drug addict who shared needles or a gay man.

My mother never did drugs other than smoke weed. But found out later that she had slept with someone before my conception who had contracted the illness from someone else. Neither of them knew.

My mother had to tell her family. They all have her a death sentence the moment they heard. The doctors even gave her one. Everyone told her to abort me; I wasn’t worth it. But my mom had been through that once before as a teen and wasn’t gonna do it again.

So even though no one supported her, she decided to have me. It was a complicated high-risk pregnancy. One made even more stressful by the domestic violence from my “sperm donor”. To this day, I can’t answer why my mom stayed.

In the middle of the ‘92 riots in LA, during a heatwave, I was born. 17 days late. I found out in later years I was supposed to have a twin brother; apparently, I ate him in utero. My mother said that it was a good thing. If Frank has found out they had a son, she said it was likely he would have killed us both and taken my brother.

When I was born the doctors told my mother, we would both be dead by my fifth birthday. Shortly after, they took me to test for HIV and I came back negative. They were astounded since that shouldn’t have happened. But they also told my mother to never breastfeed to keep it that way.

And so started the beginning of a strange life of one tiny little Jem.

Other Things that happened during this time that I have no timeline for:

Frank was in jail when they married over the phone on Valentine’s Day. I don’t know much more about that.

My maternal grandmother Mae was a drug addict who abandoned my mother frequently in her youth and made her sell drugs as a child

My mother was raped by either a family member or family friend. She has stated she will not tell me who until she is on her death bed

My mother had an abortion around 17 because the man who would later become my stepfather, Larry, told her to because it was either him or the baby. She regrets not choosing her child.

[eldritchnamedjack]

Watching the Clouds Go By #0

There will be an ongoing series of posts where I talk about my past/childhood traumas. I will start from the beginning, as early as I can remember, and we’ll go from there.

I know some may be wondering why I’m doing this. As I previously posted, there are a lot of things in my life I’ve never dealt with, and I need to for my own mental health. But I also want this... saga??... to be a way for people to see that not everything is what it seems.

To most people, I seem like a perfectly normal individual, but that’s just not the case. I have a lot of bullshit I’ve dealt with and am still dealing with. I hope by writing this series, I can help others see they aren’t alone and offer advice.

I’m just gonna preface this by saying that all of these things are personal and not all of them are pleasant. I don’t mind answering respectful questions about these things or what happened. I also want to apologize if I normalize something that’s traumatic to others, I’ve been desensitized to a lot and will do my best to put warnings.

So, my first post will start at the beginning, technically before I was born. The reason behind this is because much of what makes up my life later was heavily influenced by what happened with my parents and others.

Also, I might change names in this. Not because anyone follows me here, but just for peace of mind.

First part to come soon.

-Jem

[eldritchnamedjack]

I need harringrove shipper online friends or just Billy fan friends. I am lonely and I have no one to talk to about this shit.

Reblog if you want new internet friends.

[eldritchnamedjack]

A Little Fall of Rain (Harringrove)

(I want to start this with an apology on two fronts. 

First, I’m sorry for the feels this gives anyone. And two, I haven’t finished watching season 3 of Stranger Things due to the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to watch Billy or El suffer. So I have postponed watching season 3 until season 4 comes out. So if I got anything wrong I'm sorry. 

Anyway, this came to me in the wee hours of the morning. Basically, as Billy is dying in the aftermath of the Battle of Starcourt, Steve rushes to his side in an attempt to save/comfort him. Set to the song “A Little Fall of Rain” from Les Miserables.

I’m sorry for the feels. TW: Prolonged Death )

Steve watched in horror as Billy was impaled for standing up to the Mindflayer’s spider form. Max’s screams for her brother echoed through the mall as Billy fell back; covered in black ooze.

A wave of pain, guilt, regret, and remorse came over Steve as he bolted down the stairs; leaving Robin more confused than she already was. He reached El and Billy just as the monster died and fell to his knees.

He looked Billy over and grabbed a jacket that had been discarded in the fray before tucking  it around Billy in an effort to slow the bleeding and possibly save him.

“GET HELP!” He screamed at Mike as he laid Billy’s head in his lap and tried his best to help him and keep him awake. Mike nodded as he and Lucas ran to find help.

Billy looked at him in pain and confusion. The two of them had never been friends; hell they couldn't stand each other. But here in this moment, as he lay dying, Steve was trying to save him.

“W-Why?” 

“Because...I....I care about you.” Steve said before whispering “ Because I love you.” 

“You....love me?”

“Yes”

Billy looked at him in disbelief as the sprinklers came on in an effort to put out the fires in the mall and started to wash away the ooze and blood.

Billy chuckled in pain as Steve tried to shield him from the water. “A little fall of rain can’t hurt me now...”

Steve shook his head. “it’s ok. Don’t worry... I’ll take care of you. If I could just-”

“Just hold me...please“

Steve held him gently as Max held her brother's hand; begging him not to leave her.

“I’m here. You won’t feel any pain,” he whispered; now knowing that even if helped arrived, Billy wasn’t going to last. 

“That’s all I need to know. I know you’ll keep me safe.” Billy sighed as he felt Steve’s lips against his forehead.

Tears fell from Steve’s eyes as he saw breathing become more difficult for him.

“I love you too,” Billy whispered as he closed his eyes.

“I'll stay with you.... until you are sleeping...” Steve promised as he held his hand.

Billy smiled softly before finally dying in Steve’s arms; loved and comforted in death as he never was in life.