#dragging Shelley

[esinofsardis]

I think you mean Percy Bitch Shelley

[t470n]

Robert Walton laying on his bed kicking his feet up while he writes in his diary letters to his sister about the cute new guy onboard and how he's like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, and how even now in wreck he's soo attractive and amiable, and omg he is like so gentle yet so wise, and when he speaks, ugghhh, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence 💖💝💞

[spooky-something]

These playlists are gonna make me cry, I can't, they're so bad...

Don't you dare try to gaslight me, Victor would NOT listen to Will Wood, leave him out out this...

Like, for actual characterization, this one had it, a lot of these songs are actually on our own Frankenstein playlist...

Heavy on HAD...

[3ris-d1st0rtionnn]

The TMA drag saga continues… Practice run of the corresponding makeup look (feat. My Obnoxiously Shiny Unstyled Wig)

I am normal about this concept i am normal about Michael i am so normal y’all 🌀v🌀

[reggies-fake-horcrux]

appreciation post for all the makeup looks I've done in the past week

[burtlancster]

get him

[treesbian]

(tries to be a drag queen with a $20 wig some eyeshadow and two lipsticks and that's it) (has no clue about wigs or makeup like literally no idea)

[elitehoe]

JOSHY BABE YOURE HURTING MY FEELINGS DRAGGING SHELLEY LIKE THIS

[petrovna-zamo]

I’m dying at Bob saying this:



[tylrswfts]

to hear that you fancy me? darling, i fancy you. this news may have made my evening. you look like an absolute angel tonight, by the way. think i could steal you for a drink and a chat? @shelhenn​

[higeplsy]

I'll be unleashing my inner queen later this year with some other famous faces and be apart of this incredible community for LGBTQ+ and become a fabulous drag queen, I haven't walked in heels yet!. 🏳️‍🌈💃🏼💋

[m0llygunn]

CREATURE FROM THE GRAVE

Creepy guy on the side of the road? Perfectly acceptable to pick up and bring home, especially when he’s the living dead.

Summary: The first night at your house— the undead has a name! wc: 900 ─── † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † ───

“Frankie boy, my love, my new pal, please stop gargling or growling or whatever that dreadful noise is.”

He gurgles another low, stomach deep noise, and you use your elbows to prop yourself up on the mattress, looking over the edge to see him lying on the floor. His eyes meet yours and with his cracked, decrepit lips pulled into a frown, you make a mental note to buy him some chapstick tomorrow. His frown deepens, brows pinching together as he shakes his head, upset over something. You fall back onto your pillow with a sigh. 

“What is it now?”

He groans in response, dragging out his deep, annoyed tone. You hear shuffling as his voice grows taller. 

Rolling your eyes, you meet his gaze as he sits up on his makeshift bed, barely visible through the darkness of your room.

“Frankie, I can’t understand you. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about enunciation?” 

He grunts. You sit up again and as soon as he has your focus, in a slow, creaky movement, he raises his arm to point at his chest. 

“You?”

He nods. His shaky finger points towards his chest again, pairing the movement with a negating shake of his head. 

“You not…?” you guess.

He nods enthusiastically— well, as enthusiastically as the undead can get. He points to his chest again and you have absolutely no clue what he’s trying to say. Zero, zilch, nada clue. It’s past midnight and he might not need sleep but you do.

“You not… tired?” you guess again. He groans, shaking his head, disagreeing. He pauses for a brief moment, shrugging— maybe— but then he continues shaking his head more convincingly than before. He’s not tired but that’s not what he’s trying to say. 

With a sigh, you deflate. It’s already felt like the longest night of your life but now this… “Frankie—”

He grunts harshly, interrupting you. His jagged movements point his finger into his chest a final time, followed by a final shake of his head. 

“You’re not Frankie?”

He nods, letting out an agreeable grunt. 

“Well, I know that, silly. We’ve already gone over this— I don’t know your name and until you can better enunciate your grunts, you’re going by Frankenstein.”

He stares at you blankly and you roll your eyes, shifting on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You know Frankenstein? Like the book? Mary Shelley? Judging by the pins on your jacket, you should have been alive way after the book was written, so either you’re being difficult or you just had really, really terrible taste in books, Frankie.”

He groans dreadfully again, dragging out his explicit disagreement for his new name. 

“Well, what do you want me to do? Guess names at random until I get it right? That would take forever, and it’s already past midnight because we had to spend three hours scrubbing dirt off of every inch of you. And bugs, Frankie, so many bugs!”

He rolls his eyes and you gasp— to be treated like this in your own home! 

“Frank—”

“Euggh!” he cuts you off.

“Euggh is not a very nice name but if that’s what you want to go by…,” you smile, watching him scowl his hardest yet. “Sweet, Euggh, I am so very tired and I have to wake up tomorrow morning to scrub the house clean from your mud. I am going to sleep. Goodnight. Again.”

You toss your comforter back over yourself and sink into your pillow. Not even a full second goes by before you hear the creaky shuffle of Euggh getting up.

“If I knew the undead operated on a different time zone I would have left you where I found you,” you say, shifting to get comfort. 

He grunts in response, short and abrasive, but you don’t take it to heart. You hear more shuffling, the drag of his bad foot, and the squeal of your desk drawer being pulled open. There’s about 12 seconds of silence before every noise you just heard happens in reverse.

“Hmmmmm,” he groans beside your bed, dragging out the low rasp of his voice. When you pretend to sleep he gets louder, even going as far as knocking the edge of the mattress. 

“Jesus, this can’t wait until morning?” you sigh, sitting up. You switch on your bedside lamp, blinking away the harsh light to look at your new, quickly-growing-annoying friend.

Not having looked at him in a while, his once wet hair has now dried, sticking up and frizzing out in all different directions, making him look more like Bride of Frankenstein than Frankenstein. You can’t help but snicker a giggle. His brows pinch together and once again, he’s back to scowling. 

“Lighten up, would ya?” you tease. “We can give your hair a good deep condition tomorrow, then it won’t be as frizzy. Who would have thought a century of grime would be drying for the hair follicle?”

“Errrgh,” he drags out, before shifting his balance and raising a hand towards you. In his pale, scrubbed clean fist is a paper, ruled lines ripped straight from your diary— classy.

“What’s this?” You sit up even further, crossing your legs in front of you as you take the paper from him. 

Flipping it around, you read the messy chicken scratch writing scribbled across the page in sparkly pink gel ink. 

“If you knew how to write, why didn’t you say something earlier, Eddie?”

[y2kazoo]

HIIII!!! ive made a MASSIVE update to my fanclone roster since i last posted i have EIGHT of these things now so i refined some refs and updated their designs to make them more distinctive! i have a lot of information about all these up on my toyhouse so feel free to explore around there if you want :D

i wont go over the details w puff and tarrare since ive touched on their lore a bit already but i will indulge in some brief summaries for the rest! info below the readmore come take a look...

first we have louis - a clone of louis wain, a very beloved british illustrator who's well known for his depictions of cats. his clone son follows in his footsteps and is as equally as obsessed with cats as his clone father was - speaking of his clone father, his favorite cat, peter, was cloned along with him and now belongs to the new louis and is always hanging around him! the art club absolutely LOVES him. he's a total sweetheart and he constantly has a line of cats following him wherever he goes. he also runs a cat-sitting service out of his house and prefers to spend down time at school feeding the local stray cats instead of studying

second is charles domery but he prefers to go by his nickname domerz! he's a clone of a polish naval soldier from the 1700's who had absurd eating habits like those of tarrare. he was made infamous for an incident where he tried to eat a crewmate's dismembered leg and only stopped because it was dragged to sea by another crewmate. so it's only natural that his clone son is best friends forever with tarrare, with them having bonded over their afflictions when they were kids. they hang out together all the time - anyways! domerz himself is a bit of a jock but in a punkish bully way, he likes to pick fights with people just for the thrill of it and has a mean streak. he's quelled his weird eating habits by smoking tobacco, and only uses his capability to eat anything as a threat when people provoke him. his favorite threat is, of course, threatening to eat people's legs. he has done this multiple times before to other students if you were curious. also he has a big interest in boats.

bela is, go figure, a clone of bela lugosi, the actor made famous for playing dracula. the thing is, while his clone father was just playing a part, due to his clone father's legacy, his clone son believes HIMSELF to be a REAL, ACTUAL VAMPIRE. of course he is NOT a vampire, he's just some kid, but that doesn't matter too much to him. to him he's a vampire and that's that. he's a very bombastic theater kid AND has a reputation for being a prankster; he particularly loves to scare the other students and hide in their lockers and jump out and scare them. his theater group loves him, but it's easy for the other students to find him kind of grating. he holds a giant party at his parent's house every halloween.

bosch issssss interesting! he's a clone of hieronymous bosch, a painter from the 1500's who's best known works include the garden of earthly delights and his many pieces depicting nightmarish hellscapes. his clone son is a lot more stuck up than he probably was, considering himself to be 'above' the rest of his student body, only ever sticking with the other weird kids of the school. he's fairly pessimistic and edgy and he always has something sarcastic to say. his biggest passion, aside from painting, is the long list of weird, fantastical creatures that he depicts in his works, with each of them having a meaning to him and it's own set lore. he tends not to get along with the other artists due to his standoffish personality but if someone asks him about the significance of a random critter in the corner of one of his paintings, he'll talk to them about it for hours.

mary is a clone of mary shelley, the author of frankenstein! she's a very mopey tradgoth girl if you couldnt tell by all the dramatic makeup. she hates 'the preps' with a passion and would rather be caught dead than be lumped in with them. she's one of the smartest students in her grade and makes a lot of political jokes that fly right over people's heads. her favorite place to hang out is the graveyard, specifically the graveyard at night during a full moon. when she's not there, she's at the morgue contemplating the effects of decay on the human body. she tends to stick mostly to the goth group of kids, but she hangs out with the more ostracized students too, as it's just in her heart to stand up for misunderstood people.

lastly we have db - now i posted db to my main account and a lot of people found him absolutely hilarious SO im reposting him here too! sure why not. db is a clone of db cooper, a mysterious man who vanished after hijacking a plane and obtaining a lot of ransom money. db is a notorious hacker in the school and he's been kicked out of the stem club on several occasions for installing ransomware on all the school computers. his sunglasses are a core staple of his wardrobe as he believes if he always wears them, then no one will know his identity and he'll be this mysterious figure lurking around the school - even though everyone knows his name and he's just a big dork. he tends to pick on people who have a higher standing in the school and then disappearing before they can dish anything out to him. he's also very afraid of heights, ironic because he really likes planes.

[gnossienne]

Do you ever think about how poetry has never been more irrelevant and unpopular in the English language than it is at this very moment?

I do not because it is not. Aside from being blatantly untrue, it is also a deeply anti-intellectual position. Poetry has always had and will always have relevance in our revolving, ailing society. At moments of individual or collective grief, rage, or joy, poetry is a constant companion. Think of Amanda Gorman's revolutionary reading at the most recent American presidential inauguration, or the way John Ashbery's Dream Song 29 has been woven into the titles and themes of Succession. Poetry is all around us, whether we are cognizant of its subtle rhythms or not.

Arguments about the decline of poetry's cultural importance are not new. Poets have been, across the centuries, making a case for the artform's relevance and immediacy, with poets acting as oracles, prophets, and keen observers of the human condition. Shelley said, "[the poet] not only intensely beholds the present as it is[...] but he beholds the future in its present[...]A poet participates in the eternal, the infinite, and the one." Miłosz titled his collection The Witness of Poetry as such, not, as he explained, "because we witness it, but because it witnesses us."

As the centuries drag on and horrors endure, so too does poetry. After the World Wars, there were those who felt it was impossible to write poetry in the 20th century because the extent of the devastation went so deep that it tainted the human soul, wherefrom all poetry emerges through the poet into the world in relation to humanity. Thus, how do we continue to write it, to read it? Because poetry allows us to endure, no - it mandates that we endure. Poems scrawled on paper scraps, in the dirt, on forgotten receipts, in the mortar of prison walls. Poems, even in their most simplistic form, do the work of expressing the truth they guard. And think, how many of us carry poems within ourselves that will be unspoken unto our deaths? As Miłosz wrote, “Man, pushed to the very limit of his condition, found once more in the written word a last rampart against the loneliness of annihilation.”

A poetry-less society is a dead one, without passion, conviction, or intention. Whitman's challenge "To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too" reads like an indictment of our increasingly anti-intellectual society, drunk on convenience and puerility. Indeed, Orwell wrote that after WWII, "one ought to recognize that the present political chaos is connected with the decay of language." Language and its use in a free society matters. Subsequently, if we are to retain any semblance of humanity at all, whether politically, morally, or intellectually, it must matter the most.

If you do not see poetry around you, then it is up to you seek it out; no one will provide beauty for you in this miserable society of ours - you must find it yourself.

[lilacsupernova]

In recent years, I've seen the erasure of lesbian and gay activists. And all the work we did for gay liberation is credited to two people: Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson. Even statues are planned to be elected in honor of them in New York. These two are now hailed for having organized the Stonewall Riot and the GLF [Gay Liberation Front] and even the historic gay occupation of Wernstein Hall at New York University in protest against the administration's homophobia. All of this is false. I know, because I and the women and men I worked with were there.

Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson are today widely celebrated as transgender people of color. However, Rivera identified as a transvestite male, not transgender. Malcolm, aka Marsha Johnson, was a self-proclaimed gay man, and drag queen, up until his death in 1992. Johnson deserves to be honored with respect and integrity, not rebranded as a 'trans-woman' postmortem. Johnson was probably transgender, though there was no such terminology at the time. Toward the end of his life he was considering raising funds to go abroad for what was then called a sex change surgery.

Nobody led the Stonewall Riots. It was a spontaneous uprising. Neither Rivera nor Johnson appeared on the scene until the riots were well underway. Neither Johnson nor Rivera attended any of the early meetings of GLF in July 1969. I was one of the founders, along with five other women and 13 men. Ellen Broidy and I were among those who called for the occupation of Wernstein Hall in September 1970. Johnson and Rivera were not present. They joined in after a group of us had already entered the building, and it was after the occupation that I first noticed them at GLF meetings. They were inspired by our Wernstein Hall action to start a new group, Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR).

This was important work they did and how they should be remembered. Through STAR, Rivera and Johnson labored on behalf of homeless street queens who, like themselves, often had to support themselves through prostitution, often strove to overcome drug addiction, and often found themselves in trouble with the law. They provided shelter and counseling, and visited those in prison. They were heroes in their own right. But the false legends have been widely promulgated in the international press, and give them credit for the work of hundreds of others, and never ever mention what they actually accomplished. The city of New York has not built any statues to any of us lesbians or any of the gay men who were involved in GLF. Just those two are the heroes. Stormé DeLarverie who is considered responsible for starting the first Stonewall Riot on June 28, 1969, after a crowd reacted when she was arrested by police, was a woman of color and and butch lesbian. She didn't get a statue either.

These smaller fabrications are perhaps not as dangerous as the ones that lead to war. But what is dangerous is that, by depicting one or two chosen individuals as great leaders and expunging the rest of us from public memory, they strip us all of the knowledge that we ordinary human beings have made history and can do so again.

– Martha Shelley (2021), 'An Honest History' in Renate Klein & Susan Hawthorne (eds.) Not Dead Yet: Feminism, Passion and Women's Liberation, pp. 379-80.

[h-harleybaby]

Ignore this if you’ve done it but matching costumes with the boys… what do YOU think they’d wear as couple costumes with reader

~🍋

STOOOOP THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE AHHHH

I doing the main 4 + Butters because you didn’t specify them :)

Cartman

• Would absolutely suggest doing something vaguely racist, but dw y’all don’t… even if you have to physically shove Cartman into the bathroom to change. He’s probably pissed about it the whole night tbh

• Probably makes you go as a KFC chicken bucket while he’s the Colonel Sanders because he genuinely will not shut the fuck up until you agree to it. It was so stupidly embarrassing

• He would most definitely force you to go to a party so he could show everyone y’alls costumes before dragging you out to go do other things. He really just wanted to brag and embarrass you

• Cartman will absolutely make you go trick or treating with him despite y’alls ages, and y’all stay out sooooo late that people aren’t even out anymore. He refuses to end the night until he hits up everyone’s house and demands all the candy they have

• At the end of the night you guys stop by the dollar and grocery stores to buy all the cheap Halloween candy that’s on sale. Don’t worry you’ll get your cut on the candy too, it’s just a bit… smaller than his cut

Stan

• Stan doesn’t really care enough about Halloween to plan to dress up or literally anything, but if you insist he’ll probably throw something together quickly

• You guys go as Sally and Jack but his part of it is really half assed, he still looks good tho!! It’s just, a lot people couldn’t tell who he was as at first. He probably got so drunk he couldn’t even remember

• Speaking of getting drunk, he throws a costume party because you insisted on doing something for Halloween. You asked, he delivers! Everyone’s there, even people from straight up other neighboring towns. People hear alcohol and and will do whatever to get it

• An almost concerning rowdy party and it wasn’t even from the party goers! It was from Randy swinging on the Chandelier and supplying all the alcohol. Overall a really memorable night… well to most of the people who went

• Like father like son, neither Stan or Randy could remember anything from last night but regardless, they had an unspoken agreement. Never tell Sharon and never speak of it ever again, the night never happened. Well, the pictures you took definitely say otherwise

Kyle

• Sheila insists on buying y’all’s costumes and she gets y’all some peanut butter and jelly costume. Kyle absolutely hates it but he would never tell his mother, thank god he has a job so he could buy something else and just change when you guys leave

• Y’all actually end up going as Morticia and Gomez Addams even though Kyle in general looks a little too colorful to be Gomez cough cough GINGER cough cough but regardless, he tries his best to slick his hair back and hunch over more so he could be shorter than you. It doesn’t work but it’s the thought that counts right?

• Half way through the night hall switched costumes because you didn’t wanna wear heels too long and he wouldn’t have to because of how tall he is. Shelley let him use her hair straightener and you’re pretty sure you burnt off some of his hair but it’s tooooootally fine, absolutely fine (he doesn’t know)

• Kyle was honestly kind of miserable the whole night, he didn’t really WANT to be there but you begged him to do something with you and Halloween and Stan would’ve dragged him to the party regardless if you asked him to go or not

• Though I suppose you asking really did help, he might’ve just bailed when he heard there was alcohol. Despite everything… he makes a really good Morticia but that was mainly because he was tall and would do the tango with you if you asked

Kenny

• KEN AND BARBIE YOU SAY? I THINK SO!!!!!!! It’s hard to find something in his closet but he ends up trying to spray paint his parka bright pink and writing “I am Kenough” in black sharpie. Oh that poor, poor parka

• You had to physically force him not to try throwing together some haphazard dick costume that he wanted to use soooo bad. He tried to hard to convince you that you guys should go as a dick and sperm

• Thank god you guys didn’t, y’all ended up taking Karen trick or treating for a couple hours and she went dressed as a lil skeleton!!! It was the cutest thing ever, kinda stuff to make your heart melt

• After Karen got tuckered out y’all went to the party, might I add just in time to watch Randy scream and hang from the chandelier in only underwear. Honestly it was a lot funnier than it should’ve been, the man was stuck up there the rest of the night with you both passing up bottles of liquor to him

• Very memorable night for everyone involved, and somehow everyone knew what you guys were dressed as!! I suppose the bright pink and “I’m Kenough” really helped

Butters

• Would also suggest something racist but he doesn’t really know it, at least you give him better ideas so y’all don’t end up coming off weird

• Y’all would totally end up going as Joker and Harley Quinn, it’s completely overdone and cringe but y’all still go as them. Green hair and shirtless and EVERYTHING! His parents don’t like it at all and he ended up getting grounded later

• God you guys are sooooo cringe together, like y’all quote Harley Quinn and Joker stuff the whole night if y’all go to a Halloween/costume party. Multiple people will gag and throw up in their mouths. Multiple

• He’s the type to go to the party with you and almost have a heart attack because of the music, he would be paranoid that his parents would ground him for hearing such music. Somehow they did and they weren’t even there to hear it 😭

• You suggested going trick or treating but Butters was convinced he’s too old for it and his parents would def ground him for being out too late with someone as pretty as you. After a lot of convincing you got him to hit up a couple houses with you before you guys went home, the old people were very confused