#my going back to my creating shitty gifs era

[therhythmismyblanket]

Bobbie being attentive to Anaïs

(Aka what @calliettes-posts asked for, edit because smh I forgot to upload the tableware one)

Bonus:

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 3 ~ Opening up

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Word Count : 3.6k

In this chapter ~ When spending some much needed time alone after the fight she was just involved in, Rose sets off toward the woods for the peace and quiet. Though she was unaware of the person that seemed to follow her, only innocently wanting to know more about her as he only seemed to want a friend. Meanwhile, the planned search for Merle was now set in stone.

I was completely unaware of the amount of time I had spent in the forest drawing, but I really didn't mind how long it had been as the cool breeze passed by me every now and then. I found myself constantly losing track of time when I sketched even before the dead started walking around. Just living in the moment as for once my mind wasn't constantly running. Currently I was working on drawing some trees and flowers that sat perfectly right in front of me, taking them all in the sunlight just appearing from my right.

Creating things was what always kept me sane in this life that only seemed to more intense every second we were alive. It was cheesy for sure, but it couldn't be more true. In a way it was somewhat of a distraction whenever I felt shitty about myself or shitty about things that were going on around me. It brought me a form of comfort that other people's words could never quite do. And that's why I loved it. So, now it kind of made sense why I needed to come out here to decompress, the argument and fight still replaying a few times in my mind.

In all honesty I didn't know for sure what was going to happen next, not only with Rick leaving again to go after Merle, but just in general. It had been a few months since this whole apocalypse happened and I still couldn't seem to get over how insane it's all been. A part of me thought I would never get used to it, the dead slowly picking off the remainder of the population. But another part of me knew that I would, adjusting to what the world has come to now was something I would have to get over. Though I didn't know if I fully wanted to, not wanting to let go of just everything I once knew. But sometimes that's just how life worked, and you had to swallow it down and move on.

A sudden snap of a branch coming from right behind me is what made me stop my movements completely, slowly putting my pencil down as I listened. Now that walkers have started to make their way up here I found myself a little more on edge as they could truly come out of nowhere now that they were making their way out of Atlanta. When I didn't hear another sound, I slowly lowered my hand and pulled out a knife that was placed near my hip, before turning around swiftly, ready to throw at the threat. But I stopped instantly once I saw it was just that kid Glenn, looking completely taken back that I almost threw a knife in between his eyes.

"Woah, woah, not dead." he said with raised arms, eyeing the sharp weapon in my hands.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, putting my knife back in place before turning my attention back to my notebook and picking up the pencil I had once discarded to the ground. My eyes stayed down on the page as I tried to ignore his sudden presence, even though he seemed to only be moving closer to me at the speed of a sloth. Not even a minute later I felt him planted right next to me, looking over my shoulder at what I was doing in curiosity. And clearly not knowing or understanding the definition of personal space.

Growing annoyed, I stopped drawing and slowly looked up at the man with a pointed glare to get him off my back. But I guess he didn't quite realize how close he had gotten to me, because when I fully turned to look at him our faces were inches apart and he immediately got flustered, turning his head away fast with slightly wide eyes.

Now as much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but let out a light laugh noticing how red his cheeks and the tips of his ears got from the smallest contact. He quickly noticed that I had chuckled quietly to myself, a smile making its way onto his face as he saw my reaction to the embarrassing exchange. He then moved to sit down a few inches away from me, letting out a breath of air now that some of the tension was gone.

"So, what you did back there was...pretty badass." he stated out of the blue.

I scoffed quietly to myself, "Well, I had to step in... I knew Shane couldn't handle it."

My comment caused him to laugh a little and nod his head like I had a point, "Y'know you're right, I think Dixon would've knocked him clean on his ass."

My lips twitch up slightly in amusement as I looked up at him for a moment, before turning my attention back to right in front of me. We sat still like that in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as I stayed focused, glancing up at the different colorful petals every once and a while to make sure I knew what I was doing. But silently, I knew the quiet wouldn't last very long as he seemed to talk more than any of the rest combined, his mouth clearly having a mind of its own.

"So, I was thinking and uh...I realized I didn't really get the chance to get to know you. You know, with all the chaos and stuff." he pointed out.

I let out a hum, "You're right." I muttered as I didn't take my eyes off the page.

I could practically feel his smile drop after I said that, the thought alone almost causing me to laugh again at how I practically shut him down. But I never claimed I was the easiest person to get along with.

He sighed quietly, "Well, can I get to know you? It would be nice to befriend the badass of the group so someone has my back." he said with a sweet smile.

Looking at this kid, I could tell that he was very nice and just wanted a friend. In the back of my mind I couldn't help but want one too, but the truth was I was uneasy about it. Mostly because I didn't want anyone to get too close. I had never really been a good friend to anyone, or at least that's what the friends I had in the past brutally told me. I didn't want him to get hurt because of me, especially since I didn't even know if I would be staying with them like they all assumed.

But regardless I hesitantly agreed, "I suppose you can get to know me," I replied with a ghost of a smile, "What do you want to know?"

His excitement was almost too much to handle as he began asking me question after question about myself, but I quickly stopped his role. I went on to ask about him first, getting to know him a bit better so he had the chance to talk about himself. We then quickly began to swap stories of the past, talking quietly amongst ourselves in the grass. I learned that he was a pizza delivery boy before all of this. His favorite color is green, he loves to fish; especially with some friends, and he really likes baseball.

Now with me, I didn't really feel totally comfortable telling him too much, not that I had anything to hide, but it was just hard for me to open up to people. It was rare for someone to ask me something and actually care to know the answer. But regardless, I told him that I worked as an undercover cop previously, which really intrigued him and led me to telling him some of my most interesting stories. Then I told him my favorite hobbies were drawing and singing, and my dream job was to be a vet when I was a bit younger, though that obviously didn't work out. Right off the bat, that was all I could really think of, and he understood completely as he continued to fill the silence.

I almost felt stupid opening up to him as much as I did, but in the back of my mind I knew I could trust him. He was showing me a kindness that I hadn't seen in a very long time. And plus listening to him was something I was much better at than actually talking about myself, and something I actually found myself enjoying. Though I wouldn't admit it to him out loud, a part of me was actually glad he tracked me down.

Towards the end of our conversation, I looked at him and turned my notebook so he could see, "Well, what do you think?"

He eyes about popped out of his head, his mouth falling open a little as he took the picture all in, "Wow, this is really good! Rose, you're super talented."

I ducked my head a little in slight embarrassment, "Thanks." I muttered.

After that we managed to make our way back to the campsite once we realized how much time had truly passed. Though just merely hearing the argument that was going down a few feet away from where we passed through the trees only made me want to turn and head back into the forest for a little longer. Rick and Shane were at each other's throats for whatever reason that was unknown to me, yet I knew it was probably something stupid.

I quickly glanced around to everyone before attempting to turn back but Glenn, as if reading my mind, grabbed onto my shirt sleeve to keep me from leaving. I sent him an annoyed glare, but he just merely smiled at me and still hung onto my sleeve so I couldn't get away. Bastard.

Rick continued to argue back and forth with Shane and Lori, saying something about going back to Atlanta with Daryl to go get Merle and how he needed to do this as if he made some kind of promise to himself. Lori briefly mentioned something about her not being comfortable with him nearly doing this all by himself. And that's what seemed to make a lightbulb appear on top of the man's head, instantly looking towards Glenn and I.

"Oh, come on." Glenn groaned from beside me.

I took this as my opportunity and ripped my sleeve out of his hold, "Good luck with that." I muttered just loud enough for him to hear before slipping away from the next argument.

I moved back over towards the RV, leaning down to place my notebook back in my bag that still sat against the vehicle, cringing slightly when I heard how bad the conversation was going from a distance. But I faltered for a moment as I felt someone's eyes on me as I moved, turning back around subtly to see that it was Daryl who stood tall by what I could only assume to be his tent. Out of the corner of my eye I just watched him, sensing that he was just trying to figure me out even though what happened earlier between the two of us was far from a proper conversation.

But I didn't give in and look back, my focus staying on Rick as he continued to stress about his big plan that he had all thought out in his mind, while Daryl's eyes never strayed away from my frame. I nearly squirmed at the feeling after having it gone on for so long, but I still ignored it. If he had a problem with me he could confront me himself.

But the thought didn't fail to cross my mind at how hard he was to figure out. Most of the time I was pretty good at reading people, but for some reason that wasn't the case with him. It was like he put up a protective wall to hide behind and to keep people away, which was something that I surprisingly understood as I tried to do the same. Maybe I understood him better than I originally thought.

"And we could take Rose too." Glenn's voice suddenly suggested, causing me to quickly tune back into the conversation as my mouth nearly fell on the floor at his suggestion.

I could've strangled him right then and there for bringing me back into this when I didn't need to be, and I knew he caught that vibe when he visibly recoiled at the glare I sent him. I absolutely did not feel like risking my life for anyone around here let alone that asshole, but yet this man was throwing me up for grabs. Rolling my eyes, I trucked back over to officially join the conversation to make myself clear that I wasn't going with.

"Yeah, I don't think so, and don't speak for me." I snapped, "I barely made it out of that shit hole with you people last time, and you want me to go back?" I asked.

"I actually don't think you should go either, in fact I don't think anyone should go!" Shane snapped, "Why risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

Daryl's ears seemed to have perked up at that comment, trailing over as he lingered near the small circle we created, "You better choose your words more carefully." he warned lowly.

"No douchebag is what I meant." Shane replied, "You're really going to risk three men?" he asked Rick in disbelief.

"Four." T-Dog stepped in.

"My day just keeps gettin better don't it." Daryl muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Glenn then tried again for the second time, "Five, we're taking Rose with us."

My mouth parted as I was prepared to rip him a new one in order to make myself clear, but Rick beat me to the punch, "No she's staying here, I can't have too many people out there at once."

At that moment I felt like I could kiss him... no not really but I definitely was thanking my lucky stars that I didn't have to go along for the second time. For some reason I just had a bad feeling about this whole thing in fear that something would go terribly wrong, and I couldn't push myself to jump back into the walker infested streets. Although I think Rick easily saw the relief in my face because he slightly nodded at me with a smile as if to silently say, "you're welcome. "

I slightly nodded back at the man before turning towards Glenn, hesitating for a moment before placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. I gave him a small smile, trying to silently apologize and he nodded in return, I could tell he understood. And just like that, I made my way towards the RV once more to try and get as far away from that conversation as possible, only this time I didn't stop until I fully made it inside. It looked like it was going to be messy to try and convince Shane that this would be a good idea and it was something I didn't want to be a part of.

To my surprise the vehicle was completely empty when I walked in, and I could actually have some peace and quiet for a little bit longer like I wanted. I sat myself down at the table as I faced away from the entrance, placing my forehead on the coolness of the table. But my excitement was cut short after what only felt like a few short minutes, my ears perking up as I heard the door being opened from behind me again.

I silently groaned as I almost didn't want to look at who it was, but as I turned around I saw it was just Rick coming in to tell me something.

"Hey," he started, "I'm gonna need you to look after things around here while we're gone, can I count on you for that?"

I simply nodded my head.

"You still...weary about staying?" he asked.

"Yeah, kind of..." I trailed before sighing heavily with a shake of my head, "The truth is Rick, I don't want to not be here. I think this group is filled with some really great people. But...it's just the matter of getting adjusted after...everything."

"I absolutely get where you're coming from, I really do. But this group needs someone like you, and if you still want to go, you can, no pressure. But I think you'll grow to like it here...it's nice having people watching your back in a shit storm like this." he tried to joke.

I understood what he was saying but I don't think he realized the extent of what my words really meant. But I brushed it off, "I'll keep an eye out while you're gone, I won't go running off before you get back." I said.

He chuckled before nodding his head and turning back outside.

After Rick left I just sat in the RV, twiddling my fucking thumbs because I didn't know what else to do, the utter boredom slowly taking over. But it was better than risking my life back in Atlanta so I think I would take this any day.

Though I found myself glancing outside after a while to see the four men packing up their things to head out, a part of me starting to feel guilty at just the sight. I really didn't want to go back, and I wasn't going to, but I felt like I should at least say something to Daryl instead of hiding away from everyone. Something assuring seeing as he wouldn't get that from anyone else here. This was probably a dumb idea considering the last time I actually talked to him I locked him in a chokehold just moments before. But I had to say...something.

I was taking the risk of getting snapped at, and was going way out of my comfort zone, but I would feel less guilty if I actually approached him with some kind of assurance he needed. He nearly lost his brother today after all and I couldn't even imagine what that felt like.

I sighed to myself before stepping back out of the RV and looked around for him. Shane and Lori were still lightly arguing with Rick about departing even though the decision had been made, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Yes, Merle was an asshole, but he was still a person. I knew Rick wasn't going to stoop that low to just leave him there for the walkers like everyone else seemed to want to do.

My eyes then managed to pull away from the scene and off to the side to where Daryl was standing close to his tent, gathering up his weapons one by one to leave. I was starting to have second thoughts the more I let myself think about it, but my legs were moving towards him before my brain could even process it.

Once I was finally close enough, I cleared my throat awkwardly to get his attention. His head snapped towards me, and he looked a little surprised for a second at my presence, but quickly fixed me with a glare.

"What?" he asked sharply.

In a split second I seemed to regret walking over almost immediately and it took everything in me not to roll my eyes at the man, but I didn't. "I just wanted to...apologize I guess."

He stared at me for a second before speaking sharply again, "For what? Leavin my brother behind with the rest of them assholes? Or puttin me in a chokehold?"

"About your brother." I said with no hesitation, "You deserved the chokehold."

He took a step closer to me, "Is that right?" he asked, trying to intimidate me, but I still stood my ground.

"Yeah, that's right. You pulled out a knife, don't try and convince me that I'm the bad guy here." I said, my tone coming out harsher than I thought it would.

He kept staring at me with a reddened face, so I kept talking before he would snap, "I'm not going to stand here and defend your brother because let's face it, you and I both know he's an asshole. But I wanted to apologize for leaving him up there. He's still a human being and I don't think he should have to go through that fear. So, I'm sorry, and I... I hope you find him."

Without another word, or even giving him a chance to respond, I turned on my heel to head in the opposite direction. Though I could've sworn the minute my back was facing him, I heard him mutter a small "thanks." as I continued to walk away, but then again that could've been my mind playing tricks on me.

I moved quickly back into the RV and sat down to the spot I was placed in before, looking out the window to the people outside. The ones cooking something over the small fire, the kids playing around constantly with each other, and the ones putting everything on the line to save a man that didn't deserve it.

I hated to even think about it, let alone say it out loud, but I couldn't help but think that maybe I could use a group like this. My trust issues have gotten worse over the years, but there was something about this place that made me feel safe. At first I thought it was because it was so far away from the city and the dead, but I slowly was realizing that it was actually because of the people. There was something about the group that drew me in, perhaps the same strong ass magnet that drew me back in the first place. Maybe a group wouldn't be so bad after all.

~ Thanks for reading!

[gabigabigabby]

madhouse | eddie munson & corroded coffin

eddie munson and corroded coffin x rockstar fem!reader

synopsis: now that your band, vertical axis, were forced to break up due to your bandmate's excessive drug consumption, you're corroded coffin's long-awaited new lead singer, and eddie wants to create a song that's totally off the charts for the band with you.

wc: 647

category: idk, friendly fluff???

contents/warnings: cussing. drinking. drugs. mentions of being admitted into a mental asylum, madhouse in this context. unspecified pill consumption.

a/n: can u tell i have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA for a badass metal band name???? LMAO. it's still pretty badass tho, vertical axis. this is a really short one, bc i have zero time nowadays to write. hopefully soon i can drop something. anyways hope u enjoy <3

++

"congratulations y/n!" jeff smiles, applauding.

"about time!" gareth shouts. "your old band was shit. you were better off without them. and you have no idea how thrilled eddie got when he heard vertical axis were cancelled and forced to break up."

"thanks guys," you smile. "but i'm definitely gonna miss my vertical axis guys. even though lee was always blazed coming to rehearsals." the reason why vertical axis got booted off 80s mainstream was all lee doncaster's fault. too much drugs can lead to absolute shittiness in playing the guitar, remember that.

"did new york's bootleg pennhurst treat you well?" gareth asks, a apologetic look on his face. "must be hard huh? finding out you and your band are done-zo in the loony bin."

you smack gareth on the back of his head. "it wasn't a loony bin, you psycho. it was rehab. a madhouse for my crazy druggie ass," you laugh. "it was alright. i was high off my meds when i heard so i didn't really have a reaction. my flight home from new york allowed me to think and... it sucks, obviously."

"woah woah, madhouse?" eddie repeats. "that bad?"

you shrug, nodding. "they shove pills down my throat. left me spaced out as hell," you explain. "yeah i'm bat-shit crazy, but can you blame me?"

"shove pills down my throat till i space out~" eddie sings.

you gareth and jeff exchange puzzled frowns. "are you singing my words?"

"sorry," eddie snaps out of it. "i had a melody in my head, can't waste it."

an idea seemed to spark gareth's mind after eddie said that. "hey. why not we write a song? you are one of the best lyricists in hawkins, y/l/n. get this, the new era of corroded coffin, with none other than y/n y/l/n singing our lyrics."

"s'not a bad idea." you shrug.

"and off to the studio, people!" eddie screams, running out of benny's to his van.

++

i'm gonna star in my own psychological thriller so go grab a seat, now

there will be blood and gore, a box office killer, a sell, out

make me a spectacle, i'll have a beautiful chemical melt, down

losing the screws in my brain, could be any, day, now

they gon' put me in a madhouse

eddie was shredding on the guitar, gareth smashing the drums, and jeff was bassing it up. tonight was corroded coffin's first gig since you, the former lead singer of vertical axis, joined the band.

shove pills down my throat 'til i space out

you perform your first single since the axis's disbandment to the bar outside of hawkins. turns out the people of indianapolis had liked eddie's band for a long time and you joining the guys had boosted the amount of fans they'd had before.

they wanna love me, hate me, listen-shame me, bat-shit crazy, can you b-b-blame me? la, la la la la...

the roisters seemed to really enjoy your new music, so you couldn't stop smiling even if you tried to. every now and then, you'd turn to look at eddie, who is always smiling back at you. he's feeling the serotonin rise too.

...they gon' put me in a madhouse, but is it you or is it me?

as soon as your set ends, the four of you run back to the bar, all ecstatic to talk about the magical experience you shared together on the stage earlier. "you just got us more fans, y/n!" jeff cheers.

"i've never heard a small crowd go that loud before." gareth growls in excitement.

"that was gnarly! they love us even more." eddie enlivens.

all you could do was just let out a big sigh of relief. "that was awesome." and in that moment you knew you made the right decision joining corroded coffin.

[tomyo]

Since it's a movie already about a bunch neurodivergents, please bear with me as I go off about micro culture and The Mitchells vs. the Machines.

So a lot of people can already note the memes in the movie are very dated internet humor. I don't think I saw a joke that lived past 2011 in it. But I can't help but to also feel cognitive disconnect at the idea Katie is supposed to be born in 2003 when everything about her and her family makes her a millennial.

Before I get way too deep into it, this is just more observation on teen identity than some shitty which generation is better debate. Sociology is extremely fascinating and it's just fun to pick apart elements in film.

So like I was saying, TMvsTM feels very, early 2010s. Pretty much the only thing taking it out of that element is the wide use of smartphones and mommy blogging but even then, you could push back the time frame to 2011 and still be pretty on the mark. Siri had just come out and iPads the year before which at the time was treated as the most unneeded invention. It's pretty much around this time that the smart tech boom took off and we started to see movies make the "big tech company" story. You know exactly the one: A Steve Jobs character, some joke about a needless technological advance, the main characters wowed by shiny expensive devices, and in the end usually we realize silicon valley are too disconnected from humanity. Honestly though if you've seen the Soylent guy, they might be right. An aspect I wonder about is how LA and SanFran feel about each other. TMvsTM gave the slightest inkling of bitter resentment towards it's northern neighbor and I can't help but to wonder if the constant use of the Steve Jobs storyline is maybe a hint of a general feeling LA has.

Speaking of LA, it's pretty clear that Katie is going to Calarts. One of the reasons I think it's so dated is Animator's tendencies to rely on their own experiences; Alex Hersh making a story about twins when he himself is a twin or JG Quintel literally just making himself the main character in every series he makes. Michael Rianda was born in 1984, and while that puts him on the earlier end of millennials, it isn't hard to believe the late 00s would be a defining era of his life. Many young film and arts students flocked to YouTube in it's early years to share their creations. Again the aforementioned Alex made off the wall, Nathan of Nathan for you's various skits, and so on. And again looking at the memes used, they are specifically the type that would have been created by these film students.

So let's look at Katie's art. It tends to be mixed media collages with a sketchy hand drawn style that makes you think of Napoleon Dynamite, and the movies themselves are reminiscent of campy action hero films. She puts in a lot of dazzle effects, typography tends to have these perspective lines, and the artwork flourishes tend to be stilted and looping almost as if they were gifs on Tumblr. There's a distinct one during a still frame and I swear to God, the jittery movements while flipping it back and forth feels like it has to be a Homestuck reference. Either way, all of this points towards 80s revival, something that was in full force in the 00/early 10s. You could pull a page out of my sophmore notebook and it would easily fit in. Katie distinctly draws like a millennial teenager. This isn't to say that there are zoomers drawing this way but I think No Burnham's 8th Grade shows a nice contrast in art style.

I remember seeing this scene and the old familiarity of seeing younger kid's art in fandom tags. Where late millennials where inspired by early millennials' 80s nostalgia and adventure time adjacent cartoons, early zoomers were in turn influenced by late millennials' new grounds/YouTube flash animations and 'Calarts style' series. We each appropriate and remix our predecessor's works and the general style morphs as we go on.

The mitchells environment is also distinctly 80s. They love in a worn down one story and the interior has a lot of kitsch with it's wooden panelling and furniture, courdory couch, and even a hand knit blanket. Naturally their car is also from the 80s. We can extrapolate in general that the Mitchells are not the richest family. If you pay attention to the furniture; it's pretty clear that most was likely made by Rick. On the other hand, Calarts tuition is 50k and in one of the most expensive cities to live in and that never seems to come up as an issue. However there's one thing I'd like to point out, major property tends to reflect when a kid is born. For instance, growing up my mum drove a 90s ford taurus where my younger cousin's family drove 2000s vehicles. Cars in particular can only make it so far before needing to be replaced and that tends to hit in a 15-20 year period of regular use. Despite being called a 1993 model, the Mitchell's car looks extremely 80s and a listicle even identifies if looking more like a 1988 GM celebrity. We can see how Rick and Linda struggled financially when Katie was born but it's still a surprise they have it in 2021, 33 years and definitely over 200k miles. I also want to point to Boyhood for a moment. A great aspect of this film is we see time as it happens, and we get an honest image of life in the mid 2000s. Prior to the housing bubble, we had a period of middle class affluence where consumerism was at an all time high. The image of suburban living would have been a beige carpeted room, Ikea furniture, and a saggy microsuede couch in front of a theatre system.

[jo-harrington]

Even more Eddie Munson/Stranger Things Headcanons

Why not? And I'm going to jump around on topics because I have ADHD and cannot keep these these thoughts organized to save my life. Enjoy my constant stream of consciousness.

Check here and here for my other head canon posts that may be referenced here. Once again, minors please DNI.

Eddie will not refer to anyone by an offensive nickname, even if that’s the only thing they’re known by. He knows what it’s like to have people call you some shitty name and even if he doesn’t know your real name, if he needs to interact with you, he’ll go out of his way to learn what your real name is. BUT he also used to give little nicknames to everyone though. Think a less offensive Sawyer from LOST. Doc, Freckles, Boss, Cap. I think once his friends left him behind after his first senior year, those protective walls kind of built back up and he's much more hesitant to give little nicknames. Yes he has Jeff, Gareth, and David...but those weren't the guys he thought he'd be friends with for the rest of his life. Sure you probably have those nicknames happening off-screen (I think this nerd calls Gareth "the Great" in general conversation too, not just during Hellfire) but you see it come back out when he calls Max "Red" and I want to say he calls her that more than just that one instance. They're neighbors, and as I've said before, Wayne does take the time to know and chat with neighbors. (More elaborating in a little bit.)

Last time I talked about how Eddie starts dealing to earn some extra cash and help Uncle Wayne out. It’s good business…and yeah Corroded Coffin probably gets a little cash for their gigs (more on that later though). But Eddie getting a job after he fails Senior Year the first time to be able to contribute more. And I love Mechanic!Eddie as much as the next person but I think he gets a job at Starcourt. Think about it. You have this big mall creating all of these jobs and a flock of teenagers looking for summer jobs and whatever. Hawkins is a small town. Eddie also being 18 already is a big help for him, even if he is still in school, and he becomes the key holder at Tape World. Not Sam Goody, too flashy and mainstream. He probably applied but didn't fit the look. And honestly, the manager at Tape World probably lets him play his mixtapes, have Tuesday nights off for shows at the Hideout, and leave flyers for Corroded Coffin at the register.

And on a related note, Eddie has an appreciation for all sorts of music. He is of course a metal head first and foremost, but he’s also a musician and he knows what it’s like to put your heart into a song. Or a performance. Even if it’s not his cup of tea, or even if it isn’t very good in his opinion, he respects it. And if it’s something constantly being played on the local radio, he can just pop a tape in and call it a day. He also just a generally great music knowledge. Maybe not everything…every genre, every era, but he can make recommendations. If someone comes in looking for a tape that’s has a song they remember hearing on the radio, he can typically narrow down which artist it is. He starts chipping away at that freak/outcast perception people have of him while he's working at Tape World, because he's genuinely nice to the customers and always engages in conversation with the regulars. And then that all kind of gets swept away once Starcourt is gone.

Eddie's mom loved music too. She had all sorts of record, she would play them around the house, they'd be dancing in the kitchen together as she cooked or they did chores together. He still has her vinyl records and record player--at Rick's for safekeeping--and he'll listen to her favorites when he's especially missing her or feeling down. Did I make a playlist of all her faves? Maybe. Daydream Believer by the Monkees? That's her number one. Does he buy a tape of the Monkees Greatest Hits that he keeps in the glove box for those days where he just can't make it out to Rick's. (Or if, at that time, Rick's already in jail.) His friends give him a little shit for it at first, but then again...they know enough about him not to. He gets Corroded Coffin to do some metal covers of some of those songs she absolutely loved as a tribute to her.

Eddie making mixtapes at work. That’s it, that’s the headcanon. I’m just thinking of like…Empire Records when they’re opening and they pull straws to see who picks the music. (Dude honestly I didn’t work at a music store but for the entirety of me working retail, it was always about picking who got to play their music.) There are tapes at their disposal to play over the store sound system…he just makes them for everyone. A Rush mix for David with all of his favorites, these like…discovery mixes for Jeff and Gareth with whatever new and interesting stuff comes in. (Don’t tell me he wasn’t making mixes for Dustin, Mike, and Lucas once they meet Eddie, to teach them what good music is. He just…has to do it on his own time thanks to Starcourt being destroyed.) It's just during the majorly down times when there isn't a lot else to do, and his manager is super chill. As long as they get the tasks done, are helping customers, just go ham.

Eddie loving horror movies but more specifically enjoying your classic tv Horror Hosts with the commentary and jokes. I don't know if Elvira would have been a nationwide program at that point in the 80's..and I'm not from Indiana but I am from the midwest, so I'm thinking of Svengoolie. I'm thinking of Hammer Horror classics with his cheesy jokes, the rubber chickens, the musical numbers (honestly I'm not 100% sure if that was all going on back in the 80s I just know Svengoolie has been a thing for that long)...and Eddie just settled in on the couch on a Saturday night, smoking a joint if Wayne isn't home, laughing and just having the best time. Pizza, junk snacks, the whole deal. Sometimes he'll invite some of his friends over, sometimes no if he's having a long week and just can't deal with anymore social interaction. And if Wayne is home, they're watching together. They don't get much time to spend together, so even if it isn't entirely Wayne's ideal entertainment, he's gonna enjoy it because Eddie enjoys it.

And that's the thing right? Wayne doesn't entirely understand all of Eddie's likes or hobbies. But that's his nephew--pretty much his son--and he's going to go along with it to make sure Eddie is happy. He is going to be there for his nephew. Wayne can't be at all of the Corroded Coffin shows, but he was there for the first one. He was there at the talent show in 8th grade. He was there for the Battle of the Bands in 1983 (I know everyone's thinking about this since we're all rewatching Stranger Things...and so am I). WHEN EDDIE GRADUATES If Eddie had graduated in 1986, Wayne would have gotten there early, he would have had a front row seat. He is so proud of his nephew and maybe he isn't big on words, but he's big on actions.

I love the idea that Wayne and Eddie go 50/50 on the van, and that it's kind of a beater but they work on fixing it together. I said it I think in my last head canon dump, Wayne just teaching Eddie to be self sufficient. Eddie coming to live with Wayne and at first...that's Wayne's idea of bonding because that's how he and his brother spent time with their father. Fixing things around the house, yard work, etc. I see Wayne teaching Eddie some basic plumbing skills, patching up some hole in the roof caused by a storm, etc. And at first young Eddie thinks it's a punishment? Like...Wayne is a little rough around the edges and it's just calling back memories of his dad. Eddie's mom always tried to make chores feel fun. And Rick wasn't exactly the handiest guy (Rick secretly a numbers guy? Like very good at math. He has a whole system in place, all the books in order, for his "business".) So it's just an unfamiliar territory for him. And just as Eddie is trying to fix the sink in the kitchen with Wayne and he can't figure something out and Wayne isn't doing the best at explaining, poor little Eddie just bursting into tears like why is he being punished and why can't he just be good at this? Wayne just stepping back and rethinking his entire approach. It's a moment for both of them, learning how to trust each other and how the other one expresses their thoughts or feelings. Wayne explaining to Eddie from that moment on whenever there's something around the house to fix that it's so he doesn't have to rely on anyone else for these simple things. And then Eddie also seeing how Wayne doesn't just do these things for them, he does it for a few of the neighbors who can't do it themselves. And there are times where Eddie just isn't in the mood to learn or doesn't want to tag along, but that's ok. Wayne doesn't make him. Once they both see eye to eye, it really is a good bonding experience for the two of them. And does it not warm Wayne's heart when Max and her mom move in across the way and he hears through the grapevine that something's wrong with their stove and he doesn't even get the chance to offer to go over and help, because Eddie already did. That wholesome pat on the back when Eddie gets back home. ("I'm proud of you, kid.") That kind of got away from me sorry.

But the van.

Ok so yeah, Eddie and Wayne find this van--Wayne hearing about it through the grapevine from one of his coworkers at the plant--and it's in rough shape. Read somewhere (because I'm one of those people who does all the research when they write fics) it's a '71 Chevy van? It's not super old when they get it, but whoever owned it wasn't gentle with it. They're tempted to just trade it in just to get some cash for it, but the guy who owns the local car dealership is kind of a dick and honestly isn't even offering much for the trade in either. (I have this minor canon that Mr. Harrington owns a car dealership. Which is why Steve has a BMW.) Wayne works out some kind of deal with this coworker, and kind of presents the idea to Eddie that Wayne's got a little money saved up, they can get the van and work on it together, and then Eddie would get a job and pay Wayne back for his half or quarter or whatever portion. Maybe just pay Wayne back for the parts to fix it. My thought is that you have Wayne who has some money he's been saving for this day to come anyway, plus the money Eddie has been sneaking in with Wayne's stash thinking he's going to help Wayne out. PLUS there's that coffee can that Eddie's mom had hidden away with her little cash stash that honestly Eddie never knew what happened to that Wayne's been saving for Eddie this entire time.

Wayne framing it in the mindset of Eddie getting a job because he KNOWS Eddie went behind his back and is working somewhere...he doesn't know the entirety of it...but this is also a chance for Eddie to come clean. Which he does...sort of. He comes clean about having a job and some money, and then Wayne gets him to admit about the stash money. But there is no mention of the drug dealing or Rick's involvement. That is for Wayne to never know about. But anyway...it's this wholesome moment when they get the van and spend this time together on Wayne's days off doing all of the repairs. Maybe Eddie takes Auto Shop at school because of it? It isn't a huge program, maybe only a year-long elective...as opposed to some other schools who offer it for multiple years. I don't know. I don't see the kids of Hawkins High really chomping at the bit to take Auto Shop. But Eddie is handy and is actually good at it and he likes it when he's better than the other kids at something...what a nerd.

Anyway, that's it for now. I feel like for every one thought I get down, I have 10 more...so there's of course going to be a part 4...more music thoughts, more school thought, pop culture nerd thoughts. I am fucking trash and I need to just write some actual drabbles instead of headcanons ok?

[gooopy]

Tell me abt your oc please… looks at you with big sopping wet eyes

YIPPIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TYSM FOR ASKING!!!! ogogg okay. the characters name is Jude Marshall, and they started out as a side character in a zombie apocalypse style roleplay, as a curious kid who watched the effects of the plague from afar and would explore the ruins left behind with their friend. then they transformed into a mortuary assistant who was medically abused as a child, one with a dry sense of humor and also just autistic swag. their mother encouraged the medical abuse and did not protect Jude from it and so now they struggle around hospitals but find themself at ease in the similarly sterile areas around dead bodies (that being a remnant of their zombie apocalypse form. type opf kid who would poke a body with a stick a few times yknow?)

they also went through several iterations through this roleplay, such as a ghost, a sorta victorian-era gentleman type, a supervillain, etc. their most recent iteration being my elden ring character. right now though i want to rearrange the story a bit. i however am not good at making stories on my own, so i intend to take some inspiration from frankenstein and shit.

id like to get jude closer to the 'mad scientist' srota area. a tragedy methinks. im going through and gutting their playlist now but im thinking that jude will still have experienced medical trauma, still face trauma from their mother, and still work with dead bodies. still hammering it out but im thinking of sprinkling some classic 'lovecraft pursuit of forbidden knowledge' stuff. to make a name for themself, to be helpful, to be useful. get dragged into something bigger than themself and then have their desperation blind them to the horrors and to lose anyone who may be close to them in that pursuit, then turn back and see that theyve done nothing but create destruction in their path. i dont know, ill figure it out, but i also want jude to be like. a normal guy. like theyre just some guy who lives ina shitty apartment and has a pet turtle (only friend. her names shellsy) and drinks coffee out of a silly novelty mug. its not something they inherently deserve, to hurt those around them.

like i said, writing stories? not my strong point. i get too many ideas and then it turns into a rambling mess. i am a lot more familiar with roleplay anda lot better with that too, but for now thats the sorta direction i want to go with jude. this is sooo long i love jude my babygirl jude <3 heres a drawing of them (couldnt find any good old drawings of them so scribbled one out on the spot <3 they run cold so they always got a sweater)

[image ID: drawing of an indian person with square glasses. they are wearing an orange sweater and a long brown pleated skirt. they have a pontail and are looking forward with an optimistic but anxious expression. /end ID]

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

I posted 3,545 times in 2022

That's 1,053 more posts than 2021!

354 posts created (10%)

3,191 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thatpunnyperson

@sincerelylittleone

@whobee7

@floralflowerpower

@thelockenessmonster

I tagged 1,176 of my posts in 2022

#personal - 155 posts

#laugh rule - 104 posts

#pjo - 27 posts

#ruby's moving woes - 26 posts

#batman - 17 posts

#danny phantom - 16 posts

#flipping legacies - 16 posts

#'swearing' - 14 posts

#storytime - 12 posts

#jason todd - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#you know in the very beginning of the pandemic there were people going around with pool noodles attached to their heads to enforce the six f

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So I now live in a place where putting cream on my skin is not only normal but expected, because fuck desert climates, but sometimes i cannot STAND the texture. My skin is now telling me ''im itchy i need cream'' but i also know that as soon as I touch cream my entire skin entity will crawl right off my frame and escape into the night.

Thank you, texture issues. You make life interesting, if nothing else.

94 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

#4

We all know that Batman used to laugh during Jason's era as Robin, but I think that at least the first month or so that laughter was mostly a, "what the fuck is up with this kid" kind of laughter. Like Jason is so astonishingly different from Dick as Robin (Dick: *wants to kill someone so bad he's got a severe case of Stupid and Bruce just wants him to Sit and Stay* Jason: "Robin gives me magic!!!" 🤩) that Bruce just has like No coping mechanisms for Jason lmao. The first three weeks is Bruce just going, "what the fuck? Dick didn't do that. what do you mean I'm not going to have to nag him about homework. Oh my god this teenager thinks that--yuuuup, those are rocket propelled rollerskates. Oh look, the inevitable crash." I'd be wtf laughing too if i went from 2008 MCR emo child to ray of sunshine, introduced by way of incredible ballsiness followed immediately by half assed violence and stray-cat-esque coaxing from Bruce. I'd think I was in a fever dream ngl.

143 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

Rewatching Phineas and Ferb has honestly just highlighted how much of a good guy Jeremy is. He adores Candace no matter how weird he clearly thinks she is, thinks her brothers are cool even while she's desperately trying to bust them, and, whenever she has spent the entire episode trying to be there with Jeremy until she can't STAND it any longer and goes haring off after the boys, he's just chilling in the dust and saying, "that's my girl."

172 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

#2

Phineas and Ferb astounds me with how funny it continues to be. We've estblished Linda Flynn-Fletcher as the old pop star Lindonna, and then she likes to play jazz with two other women in the neighborhood. Imagine if Nina Sky (one hit wonder of the 2000s: Move Ya Body) had a quiet jazz trio in the middle of the suburbs of this city and dropped an album and you're just like, ah, yes, soothing jazz by Nina Sky.

And track three is a hard rock song with the lead male singer ranting to Nina about how evil their siblings are and all the rest of the tracks are back to soothing jazz. You flip over the CD case to read the back.

3. E. V. I. L. B. O. Y. S. Sung by Nina Sky's daughter. Music by Nina Sky's jazz trio.

I think that I'd be simultaneously laughing myself sick and also extremely confused.

323 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I think people need to tell more kids that they're proud of them for graduating high school. I'm absolutely dead serious, especially now. I can see the graduating high schoolers surrounding me right now are burned out and traumatized and depressed, and they've undoubtedly had a much, much harder time in high school than I ever had, and I had some pretty shitty high school experiences.

I graduated high school with no more acknowledgement than the standard "congrats on surviving another year of school!" And immediately followed by "have you finished all your scholarship applications?" That was fine for me. I knew i wanted to go to college, I was set and ready for it, eager to get out of high school into more challenging courses.

But if I just finished high school after two years of fighting through online courses and no one acknowledged the battles I went through? If I was as burnt out and traumatized as these kids are right now? I'd have never have gone to college.

So for everyone graduating high school, even if you barely scraped by passing: I see you. I'm proud of you. You did such a good job. I wish you success in what you try to do, fortune enough to keep you safe and happy, and health always.

46,794 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fatmclassic]

Ceremonials time, and this one seems to be the favourite of most people, especially American fans. I rarely listen to this in one go, it's exhausting but I needed to see how it flowed. A huge album, darker in tone compared to lungs. Florence wanted to explore that huge sound she'd started in lungs with drumming song and cosmic love create a cohesive album. A science concept album was quickly scrapped, as was a drake collaboration. Originally titled violence, it was renamed ceremonials after an art exhibit flo saw.

Only if for a night is a strong opener that sets the darker tone for this album. Mix of supernatural metaphor and personal issues. It's a dream like song which is apt as it's based on a dream. Very different vibe to dog days. The church bell tune at the beginning is a lovely touch and goes well with this album heavy with religious imagery. It's heavy drums and echoey piano make it sound huge and that will be the recurring sound here. 8/10.

Shake it out, another hangover song. The most commercial song with a catchy hook and upbeat mood. More church references with the organ opening and the beat is like a European marching band. The video for this is one my favourites and perfectly captures the 1920s art deco theme the album was going for. This is the dog days of ceremonials and there's a great remix too. During this era I found the live performances a bit disappointing as she let the choir do the heavy lifting and kept doing a weird goat warblee at times but in recent years it's been improved. 9/10

What the water gave me. Here come the water and literary references. Again, it's huge and I was so excited when this came out. There's a lot going on here and the ending is euphoric and overwhelming. The live version has a cool electronic but added to it as well. 8/10.

Never let me go is a song I know loads of people love, but I'm not a fan of the slower ballads. Music wise this song isn't interesting, a bit of piano and some echoing drums the real focus here is the vocals. She veers between delicate and strong here, and the lyrics are some of her best. The big finish is my favourite part but I still don't love it as much as most people. The video was so weird too, an ice rink and weird black goo and I still don't get it. 7/10

Breaking down feels like it was put in for a breather. Most low key track here, but only by ceremonials standards. A bit spooky. It makes me think of London at night but it got a shitty Lana del Rey type video. Not really a proper single or anything but still. It's fine, the acoustic is better. Nothing special here. 6/10

No light is one of my favourites here. I think it was one of the first songs written for this album and I've heard it described as the bridge between lungs and ceremonials and it sounds like it. Lyrics here are hard hitting for me personally 'tell you what you want me to say' especially. Lots of drums,harp and heartbreak lungs style. And then the organ like synths for ceremonials. A really great track, unfortunately marred by that ill advised video. 10/10

Lover to lover is a song used to dislike. Coming back to it now it's alright. But it sounds like a generic soul song. It feels like a cover but I know it isn't. Lyrics aren't very interesting either and it's just a painfully average song. And vocal wise it's not great either. It's video was very hbhbhb I thought. 5/10

Seven devils is probably a bigger parody of Florence than anything on dance fever. So melodramatic and loud with loads of religious imagery yet again. It's also goes on for about 2 minutes too long and a lot of it is unintelligible. I can still enjoy for what it is though. I actually wrote a story for school based on this, where a nazi set a barn on fire to smoke out partisans. I got an A, so thanks Flo. Still a bit below par for her though, despite the Halloween release so 5/10.

Heartlines now and she's straight into the augury. This song struck me as something a person who was inspired by Florence would make, it reminds me a lot of castles by Freya riding. It's a poor man's dog days and very forgettable. The chorus is boring and it goes on too long. It's not bad, but not interesting. It feels empty despite the heavy drums.The metaphors and water references are here but it's just mediocre at best. A filler track, feels like someone realised the album was a bit heavy and from and they needed something inspiring. It's just kind of there 4/10

I personally think spectrum is a leftover from her science album idea that was scrapped and it's great. This is what a Florence dance song sounds like. Fast paced, driving drums and the harp getting some time to shine. I love the video for this song and I quite like the Calvin remix as well. It's basically everything heartlines tries to be but it's just better. It's a more claustrophobic song with so many instruments but it works. I admit I was disappointed with it live, again she skips parts or leaves it to the choir but she did say it's a hard song to sing. 9/10

I thought I was going finally come round to all this and heaven too for a moment. It's a slower, sweeter sing song that's fairly meta, a love letter to language. Fairly light and airy song. But then it got to the last minute and I remembered why I don't like this song. That final minute is a big jumbled mess of noise and it sounds awful on an otherwise perfectly produced album. 3/10.

Leave my body is something I wasn't impressed with at first. It's no blinding. But I gave it another go after my sister found it almost too scary to listen too. It is a bit spooky I suppose, and the lyrics about history pulling you down is neat. The ending is nice and mysterious. I've warmed a bit, but it's still just an ok song for me. Also by this point I've had so many big echoing soul songs that I'm tired now. Hard to even find a decent live recording 6/10.

Strangeness and charm is a song I've had the privilege to see live. Part of the science album concept. I remember being shocked seeing it relegated to the deluxe version but it makes sense. Quite similar to spectrum, harp, drums, fast pace and long. I can see why she felt she had to choose and I think spectrum was the better choice. I still kind of have a soft spot for it, even if this feels like a demo 5/10

Bedroom hymns

I love this. One of the first songs performed from this album and then it was just a deluxe track. Lmao. Guess the standard album needed to be family friendly 😂 8/10

Remain nameless is a controversial song. One of the few songs I see fans activity dislike. And those people are tasteless because this song is great 😌. Reminds me of fever ray. It's a very sinister, spooky song. Like making a deal with a demon who agrees to hold back unless you want them to act. A foreboding electronic track that is still unique in her discography, and if she ever decides to explore this area in future she has my full support. 9/10.

Landscape is odd. It's a demo but feels like a finished track. Sounds like it belongs on lungs imo, metaphors about the weather. And it's unusual as it's sing partly in third person. The usual tribal drums. I like it, and wonder why she never finished it. Guess it doesn't fit on the album. 7/10.

Breath of life. This is exactly how I imagined a song made by Florence given an enormous budget would sound. Massive and dramatic. Some say it strayed into self parody but if she never got to do a song like this you'd be disappointed, admit it. Massive drums, full orchestra, big choirs, it's Florence turned up to the max. Shame it was for a shite film. She does love doing cool tracks for shite movies. I remember hearing this and wishing she'd use brass and male choirs in future. One wish was granted. 8/10.

Sweet nothing. Saw a lot of snobby reactions to this being announced at first. But it's great, loads of fun and a perfect dance track. Calvin usually delivers and iirc he was desperate to work with Flo, and she only agreed in exchange for a remix. Food Idea because she got 2 number one hits. The acoustic live version on Florence's tour isn't amazing,it's fine, but this is meant to be a dance track .Calvin's tour version is a blast. 8/10

Over the love is from a film that slots perfectly into ceremonials art deco, 1920s theme. And seeing as Florence is currently doing a great Gatsby musical, she love it too. Baz luhrman also interviewed Florence a year before. But it's a ballad and quite sharp on my ears. And I only really enjoy the last 30 seconds about the green light and I wish this part was longer. 5/10

I really do love this era. Florence found ' her' sound and cemented it. It is far more cohesive and that was her intention. It's a big, big album and I remember being worried that she'd struggle to perform it live. And she did, between this and lungs she had little room to rest during gigs and the choir she had took up some of the slack. It's very heavy on religious and mythological imagery and I love that. She said she wanted a 'catherdral in the sky' sound and she achieved it with church bell intros, echoing drums and piano, organ music and constant references to god, devils and angels. But I admire, it's difficult to listen to as a full album, and I mostly return to select songs. There's also some filler tracks here that drag on a bit.

[sailors-fightinginthedancehall]

I posted 2,727 times in 2022

That's 2,727 more posts than 2021!

335 posts created (12%)

2,392 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@directlyat-thesun

@on-the-outside

@cheeselovinpuffin

@i-dont-know-nor-care-go-away

@wholesome-dragon-lady

I tagged 785 of my posts in 2022

#gbbo 2022 - 187 posts

#therese watches gbbo - 117 posts

#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. - 40 posts

#melinda may - 28 posts

#ask - 23 posts

#phil coulson - 22 posts

#jemma simmons - 20 posts

#leo fitz - 19 posts

#cherik - 18 posts

#my fic - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#not saying old people aren't pretty just i never would have guessed she's nearly 60 if i didn't look it up

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

My grandad doesn't believe me when I say Agents of SHIELD is the best television show of all time, I may send him a big long text message on why it is if I feel like it, in that hypothetical situation that I do would anyone like to add some points that I should add because if I do it on my own I'm like "Melinda May :D" and that doesn't seem enough to convince him for some reason

Tagging some people I know like aos, if you don't have anything to add feel free to ignore this: @outfitzwithleo @likea-black-widow-baby @be-gay-do-piracy @wholesome-dragon-lady @tellthestarshello808 @i-believe-in-melinda-may @agentleopoldfitz

81 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#4

Hello Irish people, we excited for our annual tradition of starting the Christmas season by a grown man being insulted/insulting children while doing a whole load of charity in Christmas jumpers??

130 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#3

I love going through the Cherik tag and finding posts that are like: "Before I watched X-Men First Class I knew Charles and Erik were gay but I didn't realise they were THAT gay" and I'm very much looking forward to showing my girlfriend the X-Men movies and hopefully getting that same reaction because I was trying to explain to her at one point how Charles and Erik are gay because it's like they just are?? Idk?? Like it's everything they do

132 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#2

In terms of Cherik -

Patrick Stewart & Ian McKellen are two old gay domestic men married together and living in their mansion playing chess to their hearts content - WandaVision vibes.

And then you have James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender who are utter chaos and the amount of sexual tension between them honestly and it's just a shitty gay drama, but the good shitty gay drama - Falcon and the Winter Soldier vibes.

This is the eras of Cherik in my mind and no one's going to change my mind on them

And that's all on my Cherik thoughts for today, until the next time

151 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Did anybody ever see that thing where it was like BBC dance radio or something and it was like

**dance music**

We interrupt our regular session to bring news from Buckingham Palace, Queen Elizabeth II has died.

**immediately back to dance music**

Because that was the most hilarious shit I listened to all day

1,433 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[im-poe-dameron]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐇𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

a/n: i might not be as active anymore, because things in life are not going well, but i managed to finish this as a pre-halloween fic. yes. it is another series about din djarin set in an au (i have no control over my actions) and hopefully it actually gets more than two parts, buuuut i'm really in love with this fic. so i hope you guys like it and enjoy a lovely ass spooky week! it's kinda shitty writing, but hopefully you find it interesting. thank you to @themarcusmoreno for being amazing and beta-reading for me. i don't do tags anymore and instead have a library blog now @moonlights-library.

this is a kind of prologue/prequel to the overall series but it can be read as a one shot i guess. there's no set time for this one shot to take place, but I'm thinking it's sometime in the medieval era. idk i haven't worked things out timeline wise. the series will be in modern day though.

summary: beware the witch that lives in the woods. a warning that he did not heed for himself.

word count: 7.4k (i guess!?!)

pairing: din djarin x witch!fem!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT so MINORS OFF MY LAWN, cussing, violence, death, p in v sex, rough sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, minor hand job, potion usage (be wise with the herbs y'all), violence although it's not much, mention of death, reader does not DIE IN THE END. just letting you know. let me know if i missed anything.

“𝑰𝒇 𝑰 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑰 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓”

They say the witch in the woods is the one to fear.

To stay away from, because to go near her was to damn yourself to a life of curses. The witch in the woods. A nickname created by those who feared the being of absolute power; men who couldn’t handle no longer being able to control a woman. It was invigorating to know that they held nothing against you - that even if they wanted to hurt you...they couldn’t.

“The witch of the woods,” you mumbled, your lips curving up at the corners as the memory of their fear came back to the forefront of your mind.

What ridiculous notions these humans came up with, but who were you to disagree with them? For you found yourself using the same name they did. Witch. A being of power and you relished in it. Welcomed the fear and hatred, because it meant they wouldn’t try you, would leave you to live alone in the woods. To you that was more a gift than a curse.

The winds shifted, bringing the aroma of the wildflowers that grew around your small cottage with it. A delicate floral scent that you’d grown to love, but beneath that you could sense something deeper. Darker than the buds, than even the trees that surrounded you. Some part of you recognized it - felt the hair stand up on the back of your neck at the realization that they had found you.

That he had found you.

Standing from where you were gathering herbs, you set the basket handle across your forearm, walking slowly back towards your home. Ignoring it wouldn’t make the issue vanish, but it would give you time to consider your options. If they had in fact found you that meant you wouldn’t have much time to flee. Unlike last time where you were prepared for them, this time they had sent him unannounced.

What confused you was you hadn’t felt him coming - couldn’t see him within the view of your sight.

Had they finally found a way to cloak their hunters?

That fact wouldn’t surprise you. What did however was the knowledge that they had sent him to capture you - either a mistake or a distraction on their part. You felt him seconds before returning towards the front of your cottage. A man in black armor stood near the gate, a sword attached to his back and helmet in his hands. You recognized the crest that was branded across the front of the black metal - knew that whatever was there would also be along his skin somewhere.

A soldier for her.

Funny how fate intertwines two souls together - as if it were making a mockery of the outcomes that would no doubt be inevitable. You would have laughed...if you found the joke even remotely entertaining. Yet this had happened before. More times than you wished it to.

He would find you on behalf of her orders, attempting to bring you to her so she could finally get her way. A woman who wanted nothing more than to kill you and that’s what you laughed at. Not the constant recurring situation, but at the sheer stupidity of it - nothing changed, nothing shifted even for a moment. For what would happen if that happened? Would the fates curse you in some way? Would they bring hell down upon you and the soul that you were forever tied to?

Turning towards you he watched as you headed towards the front steps of your home. Not bothering to even acknowledge his presence, because you knew why he was here if he hadn’t hunted you through the woods. The one thing that continued to happen over and over again until eventually he’d be back in her grasp once more. No longer free to hold onto his own mind and grasp for the memories that were hidden within it.

“A forest,” he said, shutting the door behind him and dropping his helmet onto the table.

Your heart twisted at the sight, another memory breaking to the surface. His helmet stranded on the ground beside your bare feet as he was dragged away from you - his screams ringing through the air. You wanted to save him then; tried to will yourself to go after him and keep her from destroying him once more. Only even you knew. To mess with the balance that nature has enacted is to create chaos and once that happened there would be no taking that back.

So you watched as he was taken from you once more.

A memory you would prefer to forget.

“It has what I need,” you said, dropping the basket on the counter in the small kitchen area. Of course the cauldron that hung above the fireplace was where the herbs would go but you would have to wash them clean in the basin and buckets you acquired while on your trip to this place.

“What is it you need?” he asked.

He was afraid of you.

You could hear it in the way his voice remained level, too strained to show he was relaxed in your presence and he hadn’t sat down yet. Instead he remained by the door, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched you move about your house. He knew your movements, had seen them before, but couldn’t exactly place where. All he could recall was the sounds of an ocean outside the windows, sunlight streaming in through windows that you used to leave open.

He knew you - that much was clear to him - but how was a different question yet to be answered.

“I needed to get away,” you replied, tying a piece of string around the bundle of lavender you had found on the outskirts of town.

People wouldn’t like you entering town and so you abided by their rules. Stay within your area of freedom in order to avoid them and the wrath that you knew came from those that feared what they didn’t know. The amount of times you’d been spit on, called demon, temptress, child of the devil - truly the insults were endless - was torture within itself. Only to be killed because of those things was worse.

It was a horrible thing to die from - you would know.

“She’s-”

“Coming for me. I know that,” you muttered, shifting your body and bringing your hand up to bring the fire to light, the bundled herbs you were holding tossed into yet another basket.

You rarely used your magic while on the run, because she could find you that way. Sense your power somehow wherever she was, and so you found yourself leading a practically mundane lifestyle. The only magic you allowed yourself to use was potions, brews, things that didn’t take much out of you. Speaking over the herbs was one thing; conjuring things was another. If you were to go that far you would have been captured by now and yet there he stood.

He found you without the capability of tracking.

“Did she send you?” you asked, dropping another part of your herb collection onto the table.

Shaking his head, he stepped further into the house, watching the fire begin to warm up whatever remnants of your previous potion was still there. “I came because of something else.”

“Does that mean you remember?” You wanted his answer to be yes. He recalled every moment, every memory that you two shared. Yet there was some small piece of you that wanted him to say no - to prove that he was in fact there on orders and not back to the man you knew.

He nodded and your heart sank. “I had a dream,” he began, turning to meet your gaze. “You were calling me a name. One I knew to be my own, but that’s not the only name you knew me by is it?”

Should you tell him?

Would it be worth it in the end?

It never was, but how could you resist when he looked at you like that? When he gazed upon you as if he’d found the other half of his mind, his heart, his soul. In a way he had - he was tied to you as much as you were to him - and yet you wanted to say no you didn't call him by any other name. That you only knew him as enemy rather than friend. Except he had been more than a friend...he’d been your lover.

His brown eyes bore into yours, asking you to respond to his questions.

“I-” you started, mouth opening only to have the words stop at the base of your throat, unwilling to go further.

How could you? When life seemed intent on pulling him away from you.

Turning towards the cauldron you poured water into it in order for the rest of what you used to unstick from the sides, allowing you to dump it somewhere else. There he remained. Standing behind you with his eyes rarely straying from what you were doing; he liked to watch you make your potions. It was something he found fascinating and even you had to admit it felt nice to have him back in your home once more.

You rushed back to the table, grinding up the herbs you needed in your mortar you poured them into a cup. The movements were natural to you - each measurement already detailed within your mind as well as the book that sat open before you. Each time you made this specific combination played on a loop in your mind. Would he remember after this or would you be pushing the oppressed memories even further into the farther reaches of his mind?

“Can I help with anything?” he asked, reaching a hand out to turn the book in his direction only to have your hand slamming it closed.

“Don’t touch that.”

You didn’t want to be terse with him, but you still weren’t completely convinced that he was back to himself. Until he willingly drank what you were making him, would you finally have faith in the man that stood before you. It was hard not to welcome him with open arms. Except you were forced to continue, pouring the hot water into the same cup as the herbs.

Doing this was simply for survival purposes.

Right?

“Drink this,” you said, handing him the cup gently.

He glanced down at the now murky looking water, eyes wary of what exactly you were giving to him. “May I ask what’s in it?”

“Funny,” you mumbled. “You trust your dreams enough to seek me out and yet you won’t trust me?”

“That’s not-” You smiled, cutting off his words.

“I’m not going to poison you. There’s merely a small amount of Jasmine, Yarrow, and Bacopa.” Sighing at the clear confusion in his face you began to explain their uses only to realize that there wasn’t much time to begin with. “None of them are poisonous. Trust me. They’re just there to help draw out what she locked away.”

“Do you mean what I can’t remember?”

Nodding you dragged the chair closer to him. “I’d sit down. The herbs do nothing unless I help them.”

You waited, allowing him to remove bits and pieces of his armor until he was in simply a pair of worn in pants and a loose shirt. It would be so easy to kiss him like this. Press your lips to his and remember what being loved felt like, but it would be a lie of your own making. He could not love until he knew who he was to you - who he was to history.

“Lean back,” you murmured, dipping your fingers into the small bottle of frankincense oil next to the empty cup he had set down. “This won’t feel good.”

He jolted. “What do you mean?”

Pressing your fingers to his temples you pushed his head back until his eyes were watching you, the fear spilling through and breaking past the brave face he tried to keep on. You should have specified who would be in pain; he would endure it just as he had done before, but you - you would be in agony all over again. As if this was happening for the first time all over again.

Just as you expected his eyes slipped closed, consciousness already falling under the spell of exhaustion he was put in from the tea. You took a deep breath, giving your body a moment to catch up with where his mind was. How far he’d fallen into a slumber and how far you’d have to dive in order to find him beneath the waters of his mind. One could lose themselves this way. Forever venturing into a human's mind until they were trapped for all eternity, but you’d done this enough times to recall when to pull yourself out.

“I call upon the powers of the old, of the ancient, and of the new,” you whispered, shutting your eyes and searching for the faint tug within your body that would lead you to where you needed to go. “Give me strength to resurrect his memories.”

Latching onto it you gave into the feeling, relinquishing control and following where it wanted, the light of something beginning to illuminate the darkness around you. Standing in a darkened hallway you turned to see him standing beside you, his eyes unfocused and hazy. He would lead you, because only he knew where they were. So without hesitation you grabbed onto his hand, stepping after him and falling into the pit of nothingness.

“Give him the strength to fight against the powers of her,” you said, feeling the air rush around you as you continued to fall until your feet hit the ground of something.

Only to see a door.

Different from before and yet everything was still as you remembered it.

Reaching out you pushed it open with little force and stepped through slowly with him following close behind.

384 BCE

Gasping you gripped onto his shoulder and feeling him drive himself deeper. A simple argument between lovers had somehow spiraled into a dance of passion that left you begging for more. It was rushed, sloppy, bordering on sheer desperation but it was what the both of you craved. After not seeing him for weeks on end from a hunting trip that was meant for him to find food to last through the winter, you were agitated when he came home.

Not because he hadn’t found anything - he had - you just didn’t appreciate him expecting you to stay home and never stray. You of course had to go out in search of herbs for the work you did to keep the both of you protected. Only this was him you were talking about. The man who dragged you back to the small cottage screaming curses at him until he pushed you against the door roughly.

Hiking up your skirts to sheath himself roughly into you, eliciting a cry of surprise from you. The stretch wasn’t unwelcome and in fact it was what the both of you needed to temper down the flames of annoyance that were rising, but it didn’t end there.

An hour after eating you found yourselves naked on the floor of the cottage, your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into you with a power you’d missed feeling. He grunted into your mouth, watching in glee as your eyes rolled back and the runes on your body flared to life. You certainly didn’t expect the fire he had stoked to life in the fireplace to grow intensely, but you didn’t hold a particular control over your powers at a time like this.

“Oh-” you cried out, nails nearly piercing his skin. “Right there my love.”

“Tell me,” he spit out, shifting forward even more to drag your hands above your head. It sent him deeper into you with each thrust until you were sure your vision had gone blurry and would never return back to normal. “Do you love me?”

You nodded quickly, tears falling from the corners of your eyes and sliding down into your hair. “Yes!”

“Are. You. Mine?” Each word was enunciated by a thrust, forcing your body forward and your legs up even more. You could practically feel him in your chest, the pressure building faster than it had before. Some part of you found this to be insanity, but another part - one much stronger - loved how he manhandles you. Took you in a way that had your legs shaking and breath stuttering in your chest.

“I’m yours!” you screamed it, the pressure breaking and exploding around you.

He practically fell on top of you at the feeling of your walls clamping down around him, but he forced himself up, teeth digging into your shoulder as he shuddered his way through his own release. White flashed behind your eyes and you wished so badly to recover quickly just to watch him fall apart, but if anything his constant thrusting forced you higher. Until you were crying out in ecstasy, chanting his name for each eternal being to hear.

“My love,” you whispered, managing to open your eyes fully to see him panting above you. Red streaking across his cheeks eyes dilated - he looked feral and you wanted to see more of that.

“Your love,” he replied, lowering your legs and settling on you gently. His lips met yours in a kiss that breathed air back into your lungs. “Always yours.”

“Always mine?” Brushing his hair back from his forehead you stroked the bare patch of his beard with your thumb. “How can you be so sure? Especially when she won’t stop hunting either of us. She believes that you belong to her not-”

He kissed you again, licking softly into your mouth until all thoughts were pushed out and nothing but him remained. “She will never be able to break the bond you have to me. Never.”

“I hope that to be true,” you whispered somberly, pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you.” He smiled as he uttered those words, finally giving you his heart after so long of knowing one another.

Ironic that he was originally sent to kill you and yet found himself being captured by you, heart, body, and soul.

“And I love you...Din.”

His eyes flew open as he raggedly gasped for air, clutching at his neck. You however were thrown back by the force of your own power, landing against the door and slamming your head against it. That would hurt later, but all you could care about was what happened before you. He remembered - all of it. Everything she had taken from him now rushed back into his mind once again, settling in their intended spots and giving him everything he needed to be whole once more.

“I can’t-” he said, voice gone due to the dryness in his throat and mouth.

You scrambled from where you sat, reaching for the water and handing it to him. “That would be the cause of the valerian.”

He looked up, eyes narrowing in your direction. “I thought-” he coughed, clearing his throat “-you said the tea only contained three ingredients.”

You waved your hand, dismissing his annoyance. “I could hardly tell you that I needed you unconscious for the spell to take it’s full effect. You wouldn’t have trusted me with that state you were in.”

Din rubbed his forehead, feeling his head throb from the effects. “No matter how many times you do it, that spell never gets any easier.”

“But it did work right?”

Again you feared his response, because what if - after all that work - none of it had taken effect. What if you were left with nothing but a man who held only a few memories of the lives you spent together?

He smiled, standing up to his full height and grasping onto your wrist. “Always yours,” he said, reminding you of the vow you had taken together.

One so strong that not even the darkest of beings could break it. You wanted to cry from joy, the weight lifting from your shoulders and allowing you a chance to finally breathe. He was standing before you - free of her control once more. Only something in the base of your stomach told you to remain wary of what might happen. She might not be able to track you, but she could track him and that fact settled over you too late.

You were already dragging him towards you, lips slotting against his to feel what you felt before. What you had missed for so many years. You had missed him - would always ache for him - and still nothing would feel as good as when he placed his hands on you. When he kissed you like he’d never hold you again within this lifetime. You didn’t want to consider that fact, but this might actually be the last time you see him.

She’d gotten far more clever with her tricks of hiding him away.

“Din,” you gasped, hands digging into his hair and falling back against the counter behind you.

Surely the universe would allow the both of you this moment together?

His hands yanked up the skirts of your dress, shoving them up around your waist to pull at what you wore beneath. You secretly cursed the layers of clothing that adorned your body, but the warmth of his palms against your skin was worth it in the end. The feeling of him pressed against you would forever be a feeling unlike any other. Before you could tug at the ties of his pants he was dropping to his knees, pulling a leg over his shoulder and forcing you forward until his mouth met you.

Gasping, you dug a hand into his hair, tugging sharply at his curls and trying to hold in the sounds that threatened to break free. However the sharp bite above your hip bone had you yelping in shock. Did he wish for you to make noise? You assumed so by the glimmer in his eyes. One that you’d seen before; one you missed dearly. His tongue slipped between your folds, licking up what you practically dripped down his chin and he moaned at the taste.

You couldn’t recall the last time he’d done this, but you couldn’t care less. Not when he was slowly sucking your clit into his mouth, making sounds with his mouth that left you shaking in place. So long you’d waited for him to come back to you and you begged with the ancient powers that had come before you to let him stay. You would have bargained your own soul at this point to keep the man you loved with you.

“Fuck!” you shouted, head falling back and hips thrusting sharply against his tongue to feel the pressure build even faster. “You’re going to make me-”

“Good,” he growled, two fingers plunging into your cunt. Only to pull them out just as quickly and begin a pace that nearly forced you to the ground. “I want to stay like this forever. Buried between your legs.”

Smiling you breathed rapidly, your hips shifting from his mouth to fucking yourself on his fingers. “I’d let you,” you breathed, eyes shutting from the sheer bliss of this.

How he felt, how he made you feel. All of it overwhelmed you to the point of near madness and yet you would welcome it like an old friend. You would happily drown in this feeling rather than lose it once more. Love was it’s own kind of torture - sweet right up until the bitter end, but it was a torture you needed. One that kept you alive every day and every night.

You had waited lifetimes for him to return to you and you’d wait lifetimes more after that.

“I begged the universe to bring you back to me,” you said, meeting his eyes as he licked lightly at your clit, drawing out the building pressure within your body until your stomach began to tighten.

“And here I am,” he whispered, fingers searching for something within your body.

The squeal you let out as he pressed against the spot along your walls caused a smile to bloom on his face. Eyes gauging your every expression - every reaction - as he sped up. Striking against it with each thrust of his fingers until you were shouting his name - begging him to let you fall apart. He had meant what he said. After so long of not knowing who he was, who he was meant to be with, he would remain here giving you as much pleasure as you could muster. It gave him a sense of control over his life again.

Allowed him to partake in the happier aspects of life rather than be buried within the darkness that had enveloped his mind.

“Is it good my love?” he asked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your clit, licking at it again until you could do nothing but nod your head and moan unabashedly in wanton ecstasy.

The fear had washed away from your body, every worry you held onto in order to survive no longer seemed of any importance to you. Not when he made you feel this way with merely his fingers and tongue. His name was a spell on your lips, chanted as if it would give you powers older than the universe itself. By the way he gripped your thigh, pressing himself even closer until he was drowning in your taste, he liked what he heard.

Nothing was more lovely than the sound of you incoherently babbling praises, pleas, whatever you could manage to spill free. He’d missed this...missed you.

Your walls beared down on his fingers, sucking them back into your body and he licked steadily at your clit, sucking on it with a wet sound loud enough to have your body bend to his will. Each sound was filthier than the last, but he was desperate for more of your taste. Would do what it took to drink down your slick as if it was the ambrosia of the gods above.

“Come for me,” he said, spitting on your clit only to dive back in. His eyes focused solely on your face as you built higher, higher, higher and eventually couldn’t control the actions of your body.

The fire across the room grew to a lethal height until it practically licked up the rock walls, heating up the house until you were both sweating. Screaming your head fell back and your fingers dug sharply into his hair - keeping him in place as your hips grinded against his mouth roughly. You felt the coil snap, saw something flash behind your eyes as an aura of colors shimmered in the air. The breath in your lungs was shoved out, leaving you panting, floating back into your body and nearly collapsing onto the ground.

Still he licked at you, gently thrusting his tongue into you and tasting your release. It wasn’t until you flinched away from his mouth did he stop and surge back to his feet, grasping your neck and pulling you in for a kiss that left you even more breathless than your orgasm.

“I want you inside me,” you said, voice hoarse from screaming.

“Whatever you wish, my love,” he breathed against your cheek, hands already yanking at his pants until you were grasping him in your palm. Stroking him softly, just to see him struggle just as you had to remain coherent.

“What I wish…” you began, kissing the corner of his mouth gently. “Is for you to stay safe with me.”

The words had to be said and yet they were no less painful than when you’d thought them. You wanted him safe, more than you wanted him with you. Yet to have both - an impossible feat you weren’t sure how to bring to life yet. Not after what you’d seen, what he’d been through. Seeing it happen would surely break you in half until you wouldn’t be able to go on, but you’d done it before and would sadly do it again.

Till death do you part.

Words he’d whispered to you lifetimes ago on a night such as this one. When the moon hung in the sky, full and bright - emitting enough power for you to keep the both of you safe - and yet it still happened. She still took him from you.

The ring was pressed against your sternum inside the bodice of your dress; burning into your skin the longer it remained there and not on your finger, but how could you wear such a thing of beauty. When you were shrouded in nothing but darkness. Life was cruel, but fate was the tragic downfall you both had to endure just to be with one another.

He helped you onto the counter gently, afraid that he’d break you if his grip was too strong - even if he knew how powerful you were. He was always afraid he’d break you, because he’d done it before. You didn’t wait for him to ask if this is what you wanted, because you were always guiding him towards your entrance. Eyes begging with him to connect the both of you once more in an intimate embrace you hadn’t partaken in for years.

“I wish I could be safe with you too,” he whispered, gasping as he pushed into you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your walls hug around his cock. “I wish I could protect you.”

Fighting back the sting of tears, you cupped his face, bringing him closer for a kiss that would no doubt break both of your hearts even further. The tale of the moon and the sun drifted back to your mind, echoing your thoughts back to you. Each night the sun would fall so the moon could rise. Forever apart...never together. A love that was as eternal as the universe itself and through each lifetime they found one another.

“I love you,” you gasped, head tilting back and sharing his breath as he thrusted into you slowly, steadily. Enough to make you dizzy with emotion and yet still ache for more than just this.

You wanted him wholly. Wished that life would allow you one good lifetime together rather than this desperate fucking that would fall away to reveal your hearts that each of you kept so guarded.

“I love you.” He pressed you closer until your chest was against his, legs hitching higher up around his waist in order to let him sink deeper into you with every thrust. “So much. My heart belongs to you,” he said, forehead pressing against yours.

“As does mine.”

The softness began to shift, back to the roughness you both knew so well. But still you welcomed it, dug your face into his neck to keep yourself connected to him in some way. He barely pulled out now, unable to part himself from you and the whimper of his name caressed against the skin of his neck. Some small assurance that this was real, he wasn’t merely trapped in a dream, unable to escape the horrors of his mind.

What a wonderful way to be brought back to life, he thought.

By your love.

“Din,” you breathed, teeth digging into his neck and causing his hips to stutter. On the verge of coming, you refused to fall apart until he was right on the edge with you - ready to follow and spill into your body.

Pressing a kiss to his chest, you clenched around him, keeping him within the confines of your body and shoving him over the cliff. Gasping through it you dug your nails into his shoulders, watching in delight as he shuddered, nearly falling into your arms completely. It wasn’t earth-shattering like many of the others, but it was much more. Far more than even words could describe.

Holding him close you breathed in the scent of him. One you had tried to recreate through the years with different herbs, potions so potent that they wouldn’t leave your senses for days afterwards. But nothing could come close to the way his scent enraptured you - surrounded you like it’s own type of embrace.

“What else do you remember?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder, unwilling to let him go just yet.

“Everything. Our lives together,” he replied, hand brushing against your still clothed back. “The last time I saw you.”

The heaviness returned faster than you expected, but you didn’t believe it would stay away for very long anyways. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pausing his movements. “I hurt you.”

“Din you couldn’t remember who I was at the time.”

“I understand that, but...you felt familiar. I didn’t want to hurt you. Believe me I fought against whatever vile shit she-”

Cupping his cheek you turned his head, bringing him back from the depths of his mind, before he swam out too deep for you to reach. “I believe you. More than you know. You weren’t yourself and how could I blame you for your actions when that was the case?”

“But-”

“But nothing,” you said, running your thumb along his jaw. “You’re here and that’s all that really matters at this time.”

You watched as he allowed himself the freedom of choice once again; gave into the love you brought forth, because it was a stability he needed in his life. Gathering you in his arms he slowly helped you down to the floor, dragging you on top of him until you were locked tightly in his arms. He had slipped out of you through the movements and you slowly dripped down your thigh, but somehow it remained a feeling of comfort.

The fire had died down with your adrenaline, returning to a slow burning, crackling softly in the background. For a moment you could allow yourself to fall into a peaceful sleep - let go of the worries that plagued you and forget.

You hoped.

“Sweet child.” A voice cooed in your ear, sending your heart into overdrive.

You knew who it was seconds before she spoke; the burning of each rune on your body alerting you of an entity that wished to do harm. One who wasn’t supposed to be able to track you let alone contact you through your dreams. Opening your mouth you tried to say something - call out for Din - fight against her, but your mind was trapped. Almost as if you were trapped in molasses.

“I see my huntsman found you,” she whispered, her breath washing across your cheek.

Fear spiked through your heart, sending your body into a mode of panic and it must have done something to the external world. It was enough to wake him up from where he was beside you, shaking you awake, but he didn’t hold any power of his own. Not enough to break you out of this world she had created specifically for this moment alone. She wanted you to know that you were powerless against her the second you let your guard down.

She could find you anywhere.

“Seren,” you gasped, screaming in pain as the runes nearly seared themselves to your bone to keep you protected.

“Come back to me,” his voice whispered against your temple, dragging you to the surface and back into reality with him.

Your eyes opened, air rushing back to your lungs as light flashed over your eyes. Showing you what you dreaded most in the world, and you shut your eyes tight, wishing for it to leave your sight. Except you could not shut off the powers given to you by your ancestor.

“She’s coming,” you said, breaking free of his hold and getting to your feet. Reaching for the jars of herbs that were scattered around the house you began to concoct yet another spell.

Hiding your magic be damned. She already knew where you were, had found a way to break past barriers that had taken you years to set in place. Starting the fire once more you ignored his inquiring words, forcing yourself to remain practical and focus on the task at hand. She would not take him from you again.

Not after last time.

“What do you mean?” he asked, following close behind you.

“She found me Din,” you replied, grabbing the bones that lay scattered around the table thanks to the cat who wandered in and out from time to time. She brought you gifts.

“Then we have to go.” He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. “If she found us then we leave.”

“And go where?” Pulling away you felt the chill go down the base of your spine again, curling low in your stomach. “There’s no place I can go where she won’t find me.”

“Listen,” he said, cupping your face. “I promised to protect you.”

“Din-”

“I will protect you.” He left no room for an argument in his words, and while you would have normally fought him on that, there was a certainty in things that hadn’t been there before.

This was it for you.

The moment where you choose how far you would go to keep him in your life. He didn’t mention it if he noticed your plan through the eerie stoicism you kept on your face. Why should he? There would be no fighting you on a decision such as this; no way to convince you that this wasn’t worth it.

Only that was the thing. It was always worth it - he was worth everything.

Feeling the rune on your hip flare to life you understood how little time you had left with one another. One step out of the door meant you’d never get the chance to come back inside together, because things were finally clear to you. He died to protect you from her, but there would be no need for protection when you died.

“You’re going to let her kill you,” he said, disbelief crossing his features.

“I won’t let her take you from me again Din. Not like this.”

“So you would rather die than run away?”

Your shoulders dropped, eyes shining with the tears you continued to fight against. “She won’t take you if I’m no longer here to hunt.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, but what would be the use of keeping someone’s soul mate when they’re dead?” It made some sense in your head, but at this point you were at a loss for another plan. Running never worked - especially with the amount of times that you had tried it and she was far too powerful to kill.

“If that’s your choice,” he said, grabbing for the sword propped against the table. “Just know I’m not letting that happen.”

The door swung open before you could respond. Neither of you touched it, but you already suspected who was behind this. Who had decided to pay a visit to a home you’d built for yourself for years. Inhaling deeply, you took a hesitant step forward, your bare feet touching the wood beneath you that had been carved with rune after rune.

She couldn’t enter.

Not when Hecate’s symbol was carved into the wood above your door frame, blocking those that dared to do harm against her ancestors.

Staying directly beneath it you watched as a hooded figure stepped out from the shadowed forest entrance, her pale bare feet drawn with black marks. Ones that you recognized, but would never use yourself. It seemed to blacken the very ground she stood on, taking life from your garden of flowers and turning them to ash before your very eyes.

“Greetings sweet child,” she said, voice sounding exactly like how a siren would sound and you wondered if they received that gift from her.

“Seren.” You weren’t a violent person, always choosing to look on the lighter side of things rather than revert to darkness. But with her...you wanted to watch her die at your feet. Fall to the ground and suffer from what she had put you and Din through for far too long.

“You sound so unhappy to see me.” She reached up, hands covered in runes as well - some you hadn’t seen before - and pulled the hood from her face. Revealing the woman who plagued your dreams at night, forcing you to remain awake and watchful lest she decide to pay you another visit.

“I’m not particularly pleased,” you replied, deadening your eyes. She would not see what you felt - not this time. “You’ve arrived at such an awful time.”

“That’s because you took what belongs to me.” She plucked a rose from your garden, piercing her finger as she went and sucking the blood off her skin. “How is our fine hunter?”

You nearly stepped outside away from your protection, but his hand on your wrist kept you there. “He does not belong to you,” you snapped, eyes narrowing at the sight of her slowly sucking the life from the rose in her hand. Turning the red into black.

“That’s not the agreement he made.”

“Fuck you. He was under your spell when he made that agreement. Otherwise he would have never gone with a bitch-” You were knocked to the ground, the breath leaving your lungs instantly.

You heard him call your name, felt him drag you back until you were leaning against his chest and resting between his legs, but couldn’t breathe. She’d taken the air from your lungs, shutting off your voice temporarily. All because you disrespected her. There would be no fighting her today, not when you were still weak from the spell you casted on Din to bring forth his memories.

He stroked your face, calling your name gently to rouse you from your state of weakness. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, thumb running along your cheek.

“We should have ran,” you said, smiling up at him with a morose look in your eyes. “Too late now I guess.”

“I shouldn’t have come to find you,” he said, helping you back to your feet. “She used me to-”

“I don’t care.” And that was the truth. You had a few moments with him again; certainly not enough to last another lifetime, but enough to remind you why you continued to fight against this woman. Why you kept your vow to him.

“I love you Din,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him gently before pressing a hand to his chest and watching as he fell to the ground before you. Eyes rolling back in his head. “Too much to let you go.”

“What are you doing?” Seren called from outside of the house, her eyes no doubt able to see what was going on.

Turning to face her once more you smiled, raising a bottle of a potion she knew well. One she used to get here in the first place. Bending down you pressed your fingers into the ash from the fire, drawing a symbol on the skin above his ribcage that not even she could track. You would not allow her to take him from you this time, but you would not be able to spend your days with him again. Not for some time.

“Always yours, my love,” you whispered, pressing your hand into the symbol and bringing it to life - watching as it burned lightly into his skin. Solidifying in his soul.

Standing you stared at him one last time, before stepping out into the garden with Seren nearly sending you six feet under with just her expression. She did not like the spell you had cast, but you no longer cared. Not when the man you loved was finally safe - finally free from the both of you. Lifting the potion to your lips you watched her shout in anger, rushing forward in an attempt to knock the bottle from your hands.

Yet it was already too late. You could feel the beat of your heart begin to slow and the numbness in your body spread until you were falling to the ground.

Forever asleep until the universe called upon you again.

Until you could reunite with the other half of your soul.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

Do you ever think about how offended that Doctor got when Clara refers to him as a tidal wave? As if he didn't blow up downing Street, encourage Harriet to run for pm ushering in Britain's golden age, then deposed her opening up the position for the master to become Harold Saxon, which in turn leads to the assassination of the US president AND the return of the timelords. Like my man maybe the timelords had a point about meddling

Like I know from the audience's perspective the Doctor is returning the timeline to how WE know history to have occurred but in universe the Doctor is shaping the universe to his ideas and morals. Take the whole Satellite 5/Game station plot, the Earth becomes stagnant because of the Doctor's machinations

I just think it's funny

you should see me just nodding so hard right now, because... like. yeah.

this is where the more nitpicky part of my brain jumps out, so forgive me. putting everything below the cut. she’s a doozy.

tl;dr: i can’t think about the doctor’s influence on history too much or i’ll puke. i just watch the show because i like rose.

one of my favorite exercises is trying to tell my partner about something that happened in doctor who and watching them just boggle at how the doctor has essentially made everything worse. they also love to interrogate why certain things could or couldn’t happen, what counts as a fixed point (which, hot take, is a bullshit concept created to make writing easier), etc.

because the reality is this: if you create a character (specifically a humanoid, human-adjacent character, and fuck it, specifically a white character) with a time machine and they grandstand about their morality and intelligence, but they don’t go back and kill h*tler before the institutional murder starts, they are essentially an immoral character. full stop. and that’s only one example. this motherfucker could’ve stopped the trail of te*rs or the sl*ve trade!

like, you can create explanations about timeline preservation and all that crap, you can go on and on about how much the doctor loooooves the human spirit, but if you really look at human history as shaped by external hands, if you look at the war and death and plague and subjugation and other shit, and you realize that someone could’ve stopped all of that and didn’t for “reasons,” it’s just... not so fun anymore.

but that’s normally when i try to remind them that this is a fantasy show and they have to let it go, lmao.

the doctor isn’t really an alien; they’re an approximation made by very very human hands. the show is fun, to my way of thinking, because of its human elements being put in unusual situations, forced to think in unusual ways. it’s fun to unpack what it would be like for us to meet beings that are fundamentally different from us (even if we generally do a bad job of making them Different, as opposed to Painted Blue). it’s fun to hypothesize about what historical figures were like or what the future will be. that’s the fun of the show.

and, for me particularly, the fun comes from rtd’s deft hand when it comes to creating characters i love. rose, martha, donna... they’re all wonderful. and that’s why i hang around in that era the most. the doctor can be excused, to an extent, because of his trauma; it’s basically the only good justification for going around making fairly shitty decisions. and then we get a gang of humans i adore.

anyway, you really didn’t ask for this rant, but here it is!

[horrorstoryfanfics]

Summer To Remember: Part Two

Xavier is so sweet and I feel like he just cares a lot about the people around him. Like especially when he was defending Brooke at the campfire. I feel like he would instantly feel the need to care for you too. 

Okay I’m sorry he makes me soft. 

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, mentions of death, the normal AHS warnings. 

Part One 

We started at the lake, stopping right in front of the docks. Mom droning on about the rules and what we had, stopping lastly on how drowning was the main cause of death. I was completely uninterested until a certain voice chimed in.

"What's second?" He challenged, eyeing my mother.

She didn't say anything as she scolded him with her eyes.

"People." I teased back with a smirk. His lips twisted up as he raised his eyebrows to me, looking back at his friends.

I didn't see the way Mom scoffed as she walked away, but it was only a matter of time until she realized I had the hots for the new counselor.

We all made our way down the path and over to the Dining Hall. Bertie was unloading food and supplies out of the back of a truck.

"And this is Chef Bertie, a Camp Redwood veteran." Mom said proudly.

Bertie smiled as she took the cigarette from her lips.

Xavier casually leaned against the truck. "Dibs," he joked motioning to her and looking over at Ray as he laughed.

Bertie looked over at him laughing slightly, "You wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it, handsome."

Ray, Chet and I started laughing as Xavier was completely taken aback. The shock written on his chiseled features.

"Put those scrawny arms to work and help the lady fill her pantry." She shoved a box into his arms. He took it without a word. "All of you, grab a crate." She rested on the back of the truck and finished her cigarette as we all went to work helping unload the back of the truck.

Ray was still laughing to himself, Xavier bumped him with his crate. "It's not that funny." He sneered.

"Actually it was," I interjected, walking past both of the boys and putting the crate down, bending flirtatiously. "It's what you get for calling dibs on the wrong girl." I winked and brushed my hands off while I walked back out to grab another.

Both boys almost dropped their crates along with their jaws. Xavier's mind was racing but he wasn't quick enough to come up with something else to say.

"Chef Bertie worked here when I was a counselor," My mother said as she stood and supervised us, of course not lifting a finger. "We are so blessed to have her with us."

"I have many good memories of this place," Bertie chimed in, "It's magic up here in the fresh air." She took another hit, "I'm sorry that one bad apple ruined it for everyone."

Everyone stopped and gathered around once again. They clearly tensed up at the slight mention of what happened here.

"The minute I heard Margaret was reopening this place, I was first to volunteer." She raised her hand lightly, then looked over at me, "Well second."

I rolled my eyes, "Hey I had too, what kind of daughter would I be if I didn't." I shrugged.

"A pretty shitty one," Xavier joked behind me, "But lucky me you aren't."

I turned around quickly almost nose to nose with him, smiling. "You aren't lucky yet." I gently pushed his sunglasses back up his nose with my finger.

"Okay!" My Mom clapped, "Let's continue our tour."

I smiled at him once again before following her over to the showers.

"Girls shower in the a.m.,boys in the p.m. Same goes for counselors too." She didn't look back as she walked through and waited for us outside.

Xavier turned over to me feigning a fake look of disappointment,"Guess I won't be able to help you rinse and repeat babe."

"I didn't take you for someone who follows rules, what a pitty." I pouted teasingly as I crossed my arms.  

He pushed his tongue in his cheek before he laughed lightly, shaking his head.

Everyone was clearly disappointed as they looked through the barren wooden outdoor room. There was no ceiling and not even any stalls. We walked through quickly and eventually made it back to the girls cabin and then the boys.

"Girls are red, boys are blue. Don't even try to make purple." She stated as we made our way back out.

I rolled my eyes, feeling another sexual spiel coming on.

"You expect us to be celibate all summer?" Chet asked, not really believing that she was serious.

"Well I'm not banning self-abuse. Although every stroke soils your soul." She said in disgust. "But how could I ever enforce it?" She threw her hands up in defeat.

"It's 1984, Margaret. They're building coed showers in the West Hollywood gym. You ever hear of the sexual revolution?" He looked over to me momentarily, "Sex won." He said matter of factly as him and Ray fist bumped.

"I am aware of the decadence of our era. Women's underwear that shows the buttocks."

"Here we go." I mumbled, crossing my arms and throwing my head back against the cabin door.

"Pornography in your own home," She continued on, "Van Halen."

Montana furrowed her brows and looked over to me, I just gave her a "Ignore her" look.

"I have been fighting the Lord's fight against filth around the world for years. Charles Keating is a dear friend. I was right by his side in Cincinnati during that Larry Flynt trial. And that is why, while still grieving my sweet husband Walter's untimely death, I took a small portion of the large fortune he left to me to buy this camp."

I tensed up at the mention of dad. While it had been years since his death it wasn't something I talked about openly. I shifted my weight and squeezed my arms tightly. It was also something that Mom and I never really talked about together

"I wanted to create a safe, pure, godly and decent place for the children of this country to escape for the summer. It is a dream come true. Now, there aren't many rules but I expect each and every one of you to follow them without exception." Once she finished her monologue she stormed away.

I rolled my eyes yet again, "Don't listen to her." I said. They all looked overwhelmed with how passionate and forceful her attitude was. Unfortunately it's something I've just endured and gotten used to.

"Who's Charles Keating?" Chet asked abruptly.

"He was against porn." I patted his shoulder as I walked away, heading back into the main part of the camp.

The sun was starting to set as the hue of the camp changed to a darker one. The eeiry scene growing once again onto the grounds.

Once everyone brought their bags and things to their respected cabin it was unanimous that we should build a fire. Brooke being overly excited to roast marshmallows and everyone else just excited to get the aesthetic of summer camp started.

There was a fire pit already with logs circled around it, creating a nice seating area. Chet grabbed the wood and threw it in while Ray lit it up. I sat down on a log by myself.

Brooke dug into the marshmallows as soon as Rita brought them over, stabbing them on the end of her stick and happily waiting for it to roast.

I felt the weight of the log shift as someone sat down beside me. I looked over with the corner of my eye to find Xavier giving me his infamous smirk, clearly teasing me again as he scooted closer, our thighs touching gently.

Chet lit up a blunt as Rita swatted at the mosquitoes and bugs that decided to swarm around us now. He passed it over to Ray who took a hit, and then Ray over to Rita.

"I don't smoke that funny weed," She said as she declined his offer, "The only thing I put in my lungs is a Marlboro Red," She smirked as she lit up a cigarette and huffed at it lightly.

"You know that shit will kill ya," Xavier stated.

"We all gotta die somehow," Rita stated quickly. "Any of you ever been camp councilors before?"

We all shook our heads, some stated their no's audibly.

"We just had to get out of LA." Ray said.

"I hear that, I couldn't be in that city another minute with all those gruesome murders going on." Rita stated.

The blunt made it over to me, I took a hit and turned to Xavier. He seemed impressed with the fact I did it.

"Do you want it or not?" I shook it lightly as he just stared at me, the fire crackling in the distance and Brooke talking about how she was attacked by the Night Stalker.

He took it from me quickly, our hands momentarily touching. "Just didn't know that Mommy's good little Christian girl was such a rebel." Half of his face was illuminated by the fire as he smirked down at me.

"Yeah?" I leaned in closely, "There's a lot you don't know about me." I whispered as my eyes trailed down his face, stopping on his lips. I leaned back and directed my attention back to the conversation. Not noticing the hunger in his eyes as our game of cat and mouse got a little more interesting.

"24 years ago. That's when they closed this place down." Rita was about to start telling the story of the massacre.

"Rita," Xavier groaned, "I understand the tradition, and usually I'm cool with that, but our friend Brooke here had a for-real assault, and we're just not in the mood for a bullshit ghost story." He passed the blunt over to Montana.

I looked over to Brooke who was no longer roasting marshmallows, who looked absolutely scared to death.

"It's not bullshit. And there was no ghost," Rita went on, "I'll be honest with you. I've never been a nurse at a camp before and you've never been councilors. So how did we get these jobs?" We all paused listening to her, "That's because anybody that knows what happened here, doesn't want to be here. This is the site of the worst Camp massacre of all time."

I looked down as I remembered the story my Mom told me, about how she barely survived and the reason she doesn't have her ear. Xavier felt me stiffen as he scooted closer, letting me know he was here. "Come on Rita.." His voice grew in annoyance at the fact she kept going.

"His name was Benjamin Richter but most call him Mr.Jingles." She stood up for dramatic effect, "Richter was drafted into the Vietnam War and he found his calling. He had the highest kill rate in his company. He had a nasty habit of collecting trophies from his enemies. Cutting off their ears and cutting them into a necklace."

"Jesus Christ Rita," I snapped, "If my Mom hears you talking about this she's going to lose her shit." My fist clenched remembering how hurt she was whenever she would be reminded of that horrible night. Xavier looked at me with concern, putting his hand over mine in an attempt to calm me down. I just looked over at him, not really wanting Rita to continue in the fear it would set Mom off.

Rita just shrugged as she continued on, "The only job he could get was here, nobody knows why he snapped...but one night he took a knife and slaughters an entire cabin. Ten victims in all."

"You're wrong," a voice chimed in. We all looked over and saw my Mom approaching the fire slowly everyone grew still at her appearance and Xavier's hand left mine. "Alcohol is not allowed," she took the flask from Ray's hand and poured it onto the dirt, "Neither are those funny smelling cigarettes." She looked over to Chet who had it dangling limply in his fingertips.

"So nothing happened here?" Xavier asked, confused.

"No, there was a massacre here. But only nine died not ten." She walked just in front of the fire, where everyone could see her.

"So Mr.Jingles is real?!" Brooke asked, her voice rose with fear.

Mom didn't say anything as she turned her head to the side and moved her hair, revealing the spot where her left ear should be, but isn't. Brooke gasped while looking away, seeming like she was going to hurl.

Xavier's brows were furrowed as he looked from my mom to me, trying to make sure I was okay. I didn't say anything as she continued on with the story I'd heard only once before. She sat on an empty log as she began to go into detail of the events she went through.

"And I thought that will be the end of it," She recalls the trial, "But I can't escape him. And that's why I bought this camp. To reopen it and take all of my darkest memories and make them into something bright."

"Duddee..." Chet shakes his head, "That's heavy."

Xavier's hand graced over mine again as his eyes scanned my face. He wasn't ready for all of this heavy backstory, he didn't even know that any of this happened. Let alone that it followed you your whole life.

Mom dusted off her shorts as she stood, "Alright well, we have a lot to do with the kids coming in two days. And this is the last time I want anyone talking about that horrible night." She walked away into the night as everyone sat still, horrified.

Everyone eventually got up, except for Xavier and I who just sat there a bit longer.

"Are you okay?" He asked, genuine concern gracing his features.

It made my heart tinge how caring he appeared to be. I just gave him a reassuring smile as I nodded my head, "Yeah, I'm good."

He smiled back lightly and stood up, reaching his hand out to me. "Then let's go inside before we catch our death."

I took his hand as I got to my feet, hesitating to let go once I got up. Eventually I did and we headed back up to the girls cabin.

Next Part

Tags: @felicityofbakerstreet

[omg-kat]

The Significance of Names

There are many religious and supernatural beliefs that share the idea that there is power in a name. I believe that a character’s name is just as important as a plot. If either of those do not flow right, then the story won’t either.

Choosing the right name can be somewhat agonizing. I love naming OC but I admit that it’s a difficult task more often than not. If I’m lucky, I’ll think of one within the first few hours of creating the character. If I’m REALLY lucky, I’ll come across a name that inspires me to create a character.

But that doesn’t happen very often. When that’s the case, I have two solutions:

Sleep on it. Think on it. For a few days at least. I let the character grow in my mind. When I’m doing this, it’s almost like I consider every name I see and hear until I’ve named them.

Good old fashioned research. This is where the fun begins, really. I’m going to get pretty detailed about this, because I believe this will be the most helpful, since the other options rely on intuition and happenstance.

A name can set a tone, so you want your main OC to have a name that reflects the character, as well as the overall theme and feel of the story.

Let’s say you’re writing a space opera. You probably don’t want to use names typically seen in a modern day suburban murder-mystery. Maybe you do, though. Intergalactic Space Captain Karen does have a nice ring to it.

BUT! Wouldn’t it be fun to use names typically used in Historical Fiction for your Space Opera?? Pick an era and a place and start searching! 

BIG TIP: If you’re looking for US historical names, you can go to this link which lets you search by decade, state, US territories, and more. It goes pretty far back too. If you’re doing it this way, remember the date your character was BORN not the setting date, unless they coincide.

Obviously, popular names in the US, no matter how far back they go, cover only the tiniest portion of names available for your use. And all things are good in moderation; don’t go overboard with it. It’s OK to have some oddballs.

Other examples of name themes: Shakespearean, ancient Greek or Roman, 1920’s new york jazz era, Biblical, etc.

Additional Points:

Alliterations are awesome. Especially for names. Christopher Collin Carmichael. Douglas Dudley. Brady Bailey. Ashley Amber Alexander. This works well for stories with a whimsical twist.

The backstory of a name can serve as an easter egg for readers. Naming your character after one from an ancient myth with similar themes, or a word from an ancient language, can give your readers a unique experience and add depth to the character at the same time.(Never forget Remus Lupin. Aka MOON MOON)

If your character’s name is hard for the reader to pronounce, there better be a damn good reason. I know we all want to give the excuse “because fantasy!” but even then it can seem too tedious when so many characters have hard to pronounce names.

Don’t get me started on apostrophes. There are a lot of things I can say about the use of apostrophes in fictional names, but that deserves a whole separate post with an essay and I’m sure someone else has done that already.

Consider the character’s nickname when picking it as well. A long, hard to pronounce name isn’t bad when you can shorten it down to three letters-- which can also give the reader a sense of familiarity with the character. If one character calls your OC by their full name and another calls them by their nickname, it tells the reader who is more familiar.

And more on the subject of hard to pronounce names. Please don’t do that to your main OC, unless they have a nickname that is used more often.

Consider giving your character a shitty name. It’s sad but some real actual people have shitty names. If your OC’s mother is 25-35 years old in modern day Midwestern America, it’s more believable to see a name like Jadlynn, Graeyson, or Ashlaeigh than Bob, Mary, or Karen. (I’m sorry if your name is Jadlynn, Graeyson, or Ashlaeigh D: I’m not making fun of you, I’m making fun of the people who named you :)

Your character’s names don’t have to be super unique, either. That can come off as pretentious. We don’t need another Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way...or maybe we do… Probably not though.

Consider giving your character a really average name, but they have a more unique nickname given by a younger sibling or a friend. That helps them to stand out more, especially if they’re one of your main OCs.

It’s also important to consider the background of whoever named your character when they were a child. Usually that’s the parents, but that may vary depending on the character.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to add your own advice or challenge me on the advice I gave! I love a good wrastle :D

[blueboltkatana]

I posted 7,509 times in 2021

130 posts created (2%)

7379 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 56.8 posts.

I added 136 tags in 2021

#personal - 46 posts

#shitpost - 26 posts

#jackie talks - 12 posts

#jjk - 10 posts

#jujutsu kaisen - 9 posts

#nanami kento - 7 posts

#illumi zoldyck - 7 posts

#omfg - 7 posts

#stop asian hate - 6 posts

#jujutsu kaisen spoilers - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#it's also the fact that this girl that i trust enough to ask about this is older than me and i've had kind of a crush on her for some time

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The hunter that killed Bambis mom had a good reason too a deer once fucked his dad

1179 notes • Posted 2021-05-28 23:15:57 GMT

#4

Put "stop asian hate" back on trending or so help me

927 notes • Posted 2021-06-05 16:25:57 GMT

#3

Ohhkayyy something interesting i noticed in these 2 first episodes of tfatws is that Sam and Bucky mirror each other perfectly in the two different episodes.

In episode 1 Sam fights his sister over giving up their parents boat. Their parents legacy. He tells her that it's *his* boat too. That he can make it work, he can fix this situation without having to let go of the past. Meanwhile she tells him she's tired, she went through a lot during the blip. She raised 2 children alone and she was struggling really bad and the government wasn't helping at all. Even when he tried to use his status as a hero they're not treated any better and in the end the Shield is given to Walker and it's the final Wake Up call for sam to realise that the world is not the same and he needs to adapt to this new America.

Then in episode 2 Bucky fights with Sam over giving up the shield. Steve's legacy. He says that Steve's decision to give the shield to Sam affects *him* too. He asks Sam to help him take it from Walker with force, just so he doesn't have to give up on the past. He ignores Sams hurting, projecting his feelings onto him as if it's Sam's responsibility to fix his insecurities. Bucky acts with Sam similarly to how Sam acted with his sister and it comes from an ignorance of the situation they're in.

Bucky doesn't recognize the nuances of racism Sam is being subjected to every single day and Sam didn't at first understand how bad the situation was when he was trying to get his sister to keep the boat. Bucky's ignorance comes from having been suddenly thrown into the modern era and Sam's comes from being gone during the blip.

At the end of each episode they both open their eyes to reality though. Sam realizes just how shitty the situation is for his sister and Bucky realizes he hurt Sam and sees that there's a lot going on in this new America he is now living in.

And i find that fascinating. That they are perfect mirrors of each other and their individual growth is going to be depending on each others as well.

I also like to see Bucky and Sam as the 2 sides of "good people". Bucky is the good person that has done wrong (or feel that they have done wrong) in his life. And is trying to atone and fix himself. His arc is going to be about inner change. Meanwhile Sam is the good person who has been wronged by society and the world. And is trying to find justice and equality. His arc is going to be about"the world" changing for him, to actually make space for and accommodate him fairly.

So yeah these are some thots™ i had after thinking about this show all day lol

495 notes • Posted 2021-03-28 01:06:41 GMT

#2

Reasons why Sk8 the infinity dub is better than every other anime:

-"everyone knows hot springs are a Boomer Thang™"

-"Hello." "Ur too close"

-*deep voice* "don't worry bae I'll protect you"

-"push me"

-"what's with the parasol?" "Precious doesn't wanna get a tan, he's delicate" "where are your clothes bro?" "He's showing off his chesticles for locals in heat, such a thirsty gorilla"

-"hey girl are you hungry?"

-"vacay all day" *wink*

-"oh for the love of- and you brought the kids..."

-"YOURE A CAT!"

-"ohh my Gad Langaa"

-"HEY BITCHES, BROS AND NONBINARY HOES!"

-"we're watching the same video sweetie"

-*dude in the crowd* "I'M FALLING FOR YOU DADDY!"

-*another dude in the crowd* "IT'S JOE AND HIS ABS!"

-*2 dudes in the background* "Joe's totally gonna win!" "It's cause of his Abs right?"

And there's still 3 more episodes that aren't dubbed yet. I fucking quote this show DAILY! suggest others if you think of anything else i might have forgotten cuz I'm making a part 2 for sure.

479 notes • Posted 2021-04-10 23:25:04 GMT

#1

Illumi: Killu sit down we need to talk!

Killua: What is it?

Illumi: I need to talk to you about your relationship with that Gon boy

Killua: What the fuck is your problem? He’s just my friend!

Illumi: OH OF COURSE, JUST YOUR FRIEND! That’s how these things always start Killua! First he’s just your friend, then you start to think he’s really interesting! You start to be curious about how his mind works, and the more you find out the more curious you get. Then he invites you to a night out, and you accept because “Why not?! You work together anyway!” and he takes you out for ice cream! And the ice cream is very mediocre but he’s laughing while telling you how much he loves ice cream and his eyes shine like molten gold when he looks at you so you don’t mind. And you have a genuinely good time and so does he, so you invite him for drinks the next time and he claims he can out drink you but you tell him you’ve been trained to not be affected by poisons or alcohol but he insists and the next thing you know is you’re waking up next to him in a hotel room and you had the best night of your life and you want to tell him he is more to you than just a friend but you can’t because mom and dad would be so disappointed and you’ve already broken so many unspoken and spoken rules but all you can think about is him and you don’t want what you have to end and you think “hey, maybe mom and dad aren’t always right?” and “maybe i want more from my life than to just kill people” and all that is left is an assassin who can’t do his job properly! Do you understand now?!!

Killua: i’m having some suspicion that this whole convo is not entirely about me

376 notes • Posted 2021-04-26 23:07:05 GMT

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[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Katelyn you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Marlene McKinnon!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Oh my goodness, your application immediately reminded me of all the reasons I love Marlene. Even from your jumping off section on why you chose her, it was clear to me how much you care for her as a character and how much development you could bring to her! And all your answers, along with the para sample, painted a really vivid picture in my head on who your Marlene is. I think she’ll bring something really needed to our dash, especially given everything that she’s dealing with at the moment, and I can’t wait to see what you do with her!

application beneath the cut; tw: ptsd (in para sample)

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Katelyn, 23, EST

ACTIVITY

I work a full time job and juggle some school work on top of that, so I’d give myself a good 7 out of ten when it comes to activity. I’ll try to get on at least once everyday, but if that can’t be managed it’ll be every other day for sure!

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Marlene McKinnon tag

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I wouldn’t necessarily say I identify with him most, but my favorite character is definitely Sirius Black. I fell in love with the Black family the second they were brought up and continue to love them with all of my heart.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Marlene Elspeth McKinnon

FACE CLAIM

Freya Mavor is good with me!

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Oh goodness. My love for Marlene dates back to years ago when I first started roleplaying – not just in the Marauders Era, but the very first time I gave writing a character a shot. I had read the books, but it had been so long I completely forgot she was a canon character until I stumbled across my blonde haired firecracker in the Marauders RP tag. She is definitely one of the first characters I look to when I check out a roleplay, and I was so excited to find that she’s open here.

I cannot actually tell you how many times I’ve played Marlene, and it’s usually different every time with the heart still being in the same place. Maybe the reason I automatically felt so attached to her character is because the way I play her I see a piece of her in myself. (Though, you can definitely take that in a good or bad way – depending on what piece we’re talking about.) She’s such a loving person, even if she doesn’t know how to always show it. Marlene feels everything so deeply that she doesn’t always know what to do with all of the emotion she has inside of her. For a girl who tries to show the world that she can just shrug everything off she really is pretty shitty at it – though she’s better at fooling others than herself, especially as of late.

How can anyone take her as an emotionless character? Her smile lights up her entire face and practically glows for everyone to see. Marlene’s laugh rings out – loud enough that people don’t even have to be in the same room with her to not only hear her joy, but also feel it. But with great emotion comes with the flip side. When she’s angry she’s absolutely livid. Marlene warns people to get out of her way when she’s losing her temper. And then when she’s sad she’s distraught, often one to lock herself away for hours so nobody is there to witness any tears that are more than likely going to fall. She’s not one that’s able to control her emotions well, but if I’m being honest that’s something I absolutely love about her.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

I hardly ever go into a roleplay with preferred ships just because Marlene has never been a character who allows that. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in love – in fact she is one of the biggest undercover hopeless romantics you’ll ever meet. It’s quite a shock to most because Marlene is the type of person that would laugh off things and say love isn’t worth the heartache, but it’s more towards herself than the actual idea of love itself. She just doesn’t think it’s meant for her because Marlene couldn’t see herself settling down with someone – she’d just hurt them in the end.

As for her preference…well, she’d say as long as the person is fun and attractive it doesn’t really matter to her. Marlene wouldn’t use a label, but for the purpose of it I’d say she’s pansexual. She just likes anyone she can have a good time with.

For gender she is a female and uses she/her pronouns.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

- A MOCKBLOG

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

It took her a second to think about, though her mouth opened almost automatically to say something funny or lighthearted. That would be a go to for Marlene, but with such a serious question dropped at her feet she took a moment to think of something useful – something that might actually help her. If one was to ask her a year ago the answer would’ve been something different – probably something to do with alcohol, but a lot can happen in a year.

“I’d probably go with a charm that can remove someone’s ability to do magic,” she admitted, almost quietly as if she was ashamed that was her answer. Marlene wasn’t ashamed, of course, the blonde girl was so rarely ashamed of anything. However, she was lost in thought. “Though that could certainly be used against us, but it’d solve a lot of problems in the war. Less death, I guess. Not that everyone even deserves to live anyway.” She certainly had a list of people the world would be better without.

Shoulders lifted in a halfhearted shrug and within seconds the bright smile Marlene was so well known for was back. “After that, however, I want something that’ll just make alcohol come to me the second I want it. I don’t have a name for it yet. I wanna be drunk when I come up with it – reckon it’ll make for a better spell that way.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“I don’t think anyone would want to be stuck in the Forbidden Forest with me. I’d drive them mental,” she joked with a laugh, but given the person it could be taken seriously. Marlene was the type of person someone either loved or hated – the was no in between. “I’d probably take Marcus just because he’s forced to deal with me, and then a comfy blanket.” She gave a bored look, already moving on from the question. “I get cold easily and you never said the person I bring with me can’t pick an object of their choosing. Even so I hate being cold.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“Mum says I shouldn’t be trusted with any serious decision,” Marlene quipped automatically, and she herself would agree with that more often than not. She hated making any decision that could have any big altercation – at least she hated being given time to think about it. She had always been an impulsive person, so if Marlene was just thrown into something it wouldn’t be too hard for her because her natural instinct was to act first and think about repercussions later.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

That was an easy one. “That I had no significance – that I was boring,” Marlene answered honestly. There were a lot of things that could be said about the blonde, a lot of insults that could so easily be shrugged off and contemplated as true sometimes even by Marlene herself. She was irrational, a bitch, too stubborn, and an endless list of ever things. However, boring wasn’t one of them. The biggest insult anyone could ever say was she didn’t make an impact on life. You only live once so you might as well make the most of it – that had always been something she lived by so strongly. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m sure as hell not boring, mate.”

WRITING SAMPLE

*tw PTSD*

Bang.

With a startled shriek that woke Marlene from her sleep she learned the horrifically high-pitched noise came from her own mouth. Lips closed tightly upon such a discovery and she even went as far as placing her hand over her mouth as her gaze swept the darkness which cloaked her room, her sleepy gaze only able to make out the familiar shapes of furniture and dirty clothes scattered over the floor. Nobody could ever accuse Marlene of being a tidy person, but at that moment that’s not what she was focusing on. Instead as blue eyes continued to frantically search her surroundings there was only one discovery.

Nobody was there.

Bang.

The sound came again and blonde haired girl reached for her wand which laid on the cluttered bedside table. With the piece of wood gripped tightly in her hand she blindly pushed the sheets from her body and got up, not being bothered by the feel of cold wood on her bare feet or the chill upon her legs. Marlene never slept in anything more than an oversized t-shirt – not the most attractive thing to wear to bed, but she had always been a confident enough girl. The only reason she’d find regret in her sleepwear at this point was it wasn’t the most logical thing to wear in a fight – or to wear during an escape. Not that she was one to change habits, but once upon a time Marlene McKinnon wouldn’t have thought like that. Then again she probably wasn’t the only one who had to think along such lines these days.

There was a war.

Bang.

With one foot in front of the other the blonde girl slowly walked to the door which lead to the sitting room in her small flat. It wasn’t much, but it was something Marlene could afford and a place to call home. It was something of her own, a place she had never felt threatened in. Until now that is.

Bang.

Marlene quickly checked the bathroom and then the kitchen, coming up empty in both rooms. Her feet stopped her in the middle of the kitchen, becoming more away of the cold tile underneath her feet and she struggled to adjust to the darkness around her and make out something which could be causing the noise which startled her from a usually rather dead sleep.

Bang.

This time another sound followed, one that eased her paranoia. Laughter – a sound Marlene was familiar with all too well. It then occurred to her that the noise was coming from the floor below and with a sigh she dropped her head, blonde curls falling messily in her face as she willed the tension to leave her body.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself, setting her wand on the counter which held a few dirty dishes which needed to be washed. “It’s just the pub.” That’s what she got when she lived above the pub she worked at, but once upon a time she liked the lively nature. When she wasn’t working she was usually drinking, though that night she tucked herself in early because she didn’t sleep well the night before. Now she started to think maybe her decision wasn’t the best, but she wasn’t going to pack up and leave just because she got scared. Fuck – s c a r e d. All because a drunken patron went bump in the night. Was that all it took now?

She hadn’t woke up in a cold sweat in weeks and because of that Marlene thought she was free, but apparently not. A wise man once told her they wouldn’t be free until the war was done – not that she agreed to such a statement. Marlene lived as the poster girl from freedom, and that meant free from her demons even if they insisted on shackling her more and more as of late. Well, tying her down and making her scared would take more than an unfortunate situation and scary noises in the night. She didn’t want to jump at the monsters that go ‘boo’ – she wouldn’t.

Bang.

This time Marlene rolled her eyes and pushed her hair back before reaching for a bottle: whiskey. The Devil’s poison some would say, be she reckoned her Devil drank such a liquid many times before. Maybe she’d even drink with him someday.

The Hufflepuff Alumna brought the rim of the bottle to her lips and tipped it back, tasting the familiar liquor on her tongue before she swallowed. She repeated the process again and again as she walked back to her room, her gaze going to the window. Stars filled the night and Marlene smiled to herself, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Maybe not the healthiest way to handle a problem, but it was the way she knew nonetheless.

“Cheers, mate,” she said, a cruel smile making it’s way to her lips as she lifted the bottle. “Another time means one less now in the future.” With that Marlene set the bottle on her bedside table and climbed back into bed.

[twiststreet]

T2 Trainspotting: Judgment Day (2017):  oh fuck, I’m old now!

Tough one to get my head around.  I enjoyed it quite a bit, but I’m not sure if that’s the case because of the movie itself... so much as just the passage of time, lines on their faces, gray in my beard (I haven’t shaved in a while), all kinds of shit that aren’t really usually pertinent concerns for figuring out what you think about a movie.  

The only other thing I can think to compare it to is Before Sunrise/Before Sunset, but as much as I liked Before Sunset, I didn’t really give a shit about Before Sunrise at all, so that didn’t really mean shit to me that they made another.  Or it wasn’t Trainspotting anyways, where ... That’s just a very weird movie to end up having a goddamn sequel because it’s so much about that time and place and where the culture was at, and the soundtrack especially, and. I mean, was it my favorite movie back then?  No, but it’s still one that... you know, going into someone’s dorm room and seeing the poster, and that whole thing, like... It was  just one of those things.  (For me, at least-- that was a movie I couldn’t talk a whole bunch of people into seeing with me... I knew a lot of shitty lame people back when).   That having a sequel has turned out to be pretty weird, and I guess I feel a certain way about it, but it’s hard to kinda pick apart...

So, that’s sort of where the movie works, is just... I definitely was feeling things while I watched it.  I was feeling things before I watched it, watching the trailer, the whole thing.  I can’t say I wasn’t affected by the whole thing.  And parts certainly work in intentionally creating that effect-- the movie often sets out to create that feeling of “oh fuck, time”, and does it.  But other stuff... other stuff, you know, it’s a late-era Danny Boyle movie, so it’s got kind of a lot of his issues.  It feels like there’s a lot of story-- it’s definitely got that sequel thing of wanting to go deeper with all the characters instead of being a really tight and new experience.  Or that first one, I mean, what was even the story?  It feels like a very story-sequel to a not-very-story first movie, so there’s an oddness there. 

 (I haven’t seen a lot of Boyle’s stuff-- I didn’t see the one where James Franco eats his own arm, or whatever.  I want to dig into this stuff more at some point because he’s had an interesting career in terms of variety of kinds of movies-- I always forget he did a zombie movie, say-- but I never think of him anyways when I think of like Interesting Directors-- even though he has his own handwriting... I’m not sure why that is specifically-like so much as just... he’s usually making movies about stuff I don’t care about-- James Franco’s arms or Aaron Sorkin’s Stupid Ideas about Computers or whatever). 

 More importantly:  I don’t care how many years have passed-- Kelly MacDonald should take off her kit.  I’m still 150% into that, and her being (a) not in the movie nearly enough and also (b) fully clothed, is a profound mistake, beyond all forgiving. That goes for all movies, including Pixar’s Brave. (You get a little of McGregor’s wang, kind off in the distance in a couple shots, which ... I hadn’t seen Ewan McGregor’s dick in a while.  Remember all those times you’d go see a Peter Greenaway movie or whatever, Greenaway it up, and just spend a couple hours looking at Ewan McGregor’s dick?    That one shot in the Phantom Menace.  Et cetera.   He used to take it out in movies a lot, and you know, good for him for enjoying his corporeal existence).  Soundtrack’s pretty reasonable though-- a lot of Young Fathers who I’m into and I like that Wolf Alice song a bunch, so.  Manipulative use of the old songs, which... It’s a manipulative movie, but I think I went in wanting to be manipulated that specific way, so.  I don’t know.  Movie’s reasonable, but I enjoyed it more than it deserves, I guess.  Getting older’s fucking terrible.  That’s my review of the human perception of time being an arrow that points in only one direction:  fucking terrible.