#probably gonna go with don’t submit other real people

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Okay so here’s my thoughts on the staffcon thing.

I still think collapsing reblogs so posts look more like other social media isn’t gonna work as a feature but they will probably roll them back a little and at least add a toggle off for it if they try it and enough people submit feedback. Edit: this is actually less of an issue, most of the discussion is based on a misrepresentation of what’s happening. They’re just making it easier to scroll past long posts. EDIT AGAIN: actually some people already have the initial roll out of the feature and it. Is bad.

I think submitting feedback is a takeaway. There was a pretty clear effort to just remind the user base that there are real humans on the other side of a paycheck having to read and respond to the inputs of every feedback method on the site, which is fair. It’s easy to be an asshole online in any semi anonymous platform and that is something that tumblr culture takes a certain bloodthirsty pleasure in.

And yes, of course, user complaints about issues such as accessibility and the many ongoing glitches and bots and the search function, etc. are valid and do need to be addressed. But at the very least it would be cool if we as users maybe try to cultivate a slightly less pitchforky social norm when submitting feedback about changes to the site. The ceo is not reading every @ to his blog. One of his employees is. The people reading all of the feedback are just people doing their jobs. All jobs suck under capitalism, maybe we could try not to make their jobs actively worse.

Would you be rude to an overworked server in a restaurant? No? Cool also try to not be a dick to the person getting paid to answer customer or user complaints.

Related to that, funding. Many current and former members of staff have been pretty frank about funding in the past. The company is trying to at the very least breakeven, which not a single company who has owned tumblr has managed because the hosting fees for this site are insane due to all of the stuff on it.

If they don’t get it to breakeven they’ll hopefully best case just open source the website which is a method they’ve done in the past. And it would probably work, and then the website would to my understanding be being maintained by users. Now this is where my understanding gets fuzzy so anyone with more knowledge of how this would shake out feel free to chime in. But my understanding is that the source code for the site would be opened up and maintained by the community likely through mostly volunteer work. I would guess largely uncompensated.

So personally I think maybe the vitriolic response to every change they make going forward to try and monetize the site and pay even some of the cost of operation is perhaps a bit overblown, because they’re still trying to find a way to keep paying those people to work on tumblr, and I think people continuing to be paid for the work they do is better than volunteers doing unpaid labor.

I do also think there’s a secret third option for automattic and every other company finding themselves with a worse outlook now the Silicon Valley bubble has started to really burst, and that is for all existing staff members to unionize and then turn the whole thing into a worker coop. Much more stable organizational structures. Worker coops are also one of my favorite short term solutions to many other systemic problems we are currently experiencing.

I do hope this site continues to exist for many years, especially as it is one of the only places on the internet where the culture makes it safer to talk about some of the more permanent and long term solutions to various systemic issues that function within societies. Also funny text posts.

[disabled-characters-showdown]

Guess what: We’re back on our shit

Welcome to the Disabled Characters Showdown Part 2

General Information:

Who can be entered:

Anyone can be entered that is disabled. This includes physically disabled characters, neurodivergent characters, and characters with mental health things like anxiety or depression. This is pretty much limited to canon confirmed characters (We’ll get more into that in a bit). Everyone that was in the prior round here and pretty much everyone from @gay-disabled-characters-showdown are free game but not guaranteed in unless they are submitted.

Who can not be entered:

Real people

Harry Potter

OCs

The usual suspects (We will make a post that will be updated as we go with other banned media)

Toph Beifong from Avatar: The Last Airbender and Toothless and Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon. This is due to them being the finalists in our first round.

Complete list here.

What counts as canon confirmed:

Best: stated in canon

Other options: word of god confirmed, or heavily coded, they just aren’t gonna have a specific label due to setting.

What doesn’t count as canon confirmed (especially for things like PTSD): they should have a lot of trauma, but there is literally no acknowledgement of anything that could be construed as such.

If you are not sure a character qualifies please send us an ask.

Some notes on timing:

We have to write image descriptions for all the characters, which means to get the showdown set up it takes us a kind of ridiculously long time. This means when the showdown gets started is likely to change. Additionally, please don’t have any crises until the showdown ends on August 26. Unless you send us a message we won’t be able to respond until then. Any asks that we get by that time will be responded to, and then we will disappear off the face of the earth until like the 1st or 2nd of September.

Submissions:

Characters can be submitted in the google form linked. If you are not comfortable using a google form you can also shoot us an ask. You can submit as many characters as you like, but please do not spam the same character. The amount of submissions will not help their chances of getting into the showdown. We are aiming to have this as large as possible. When will submissions close? Who knows, certainly not us.

Please do not assume your character has been submitted just because they are from a popular media, they probably haven’t been.

Disclaimers under the cut.

1.) Please tell us if we are using the wrong terminology or are doing something offensive, we are trying our best but are also only human.

2.) This showdown will be as big as we can get it probably, however, we reserve the right to not include characters at our discretion.

3.) We will block without warning, please be civil when interacting with the content.

4.) If you have an issue with one of the characters feel free to send us an ask and we’ll figure out what to do from there. That being said this isn’t really about who is the best representation.

[nerves-nebula]

I’m not aromantic but I am autistic so I think about this stuff a lot and I think that the word ship often carries connotation of implied “healthiness” it because ships are usually like “end goal” stuff rather than a realistic portrayal of two characters testing the waters of their relationship and seeing where it takes them. I think your AU does an excellent job of exploring complicated relationships (both of the romantic variety and the platonic/familial variety).

I think the person who submitted that ask was probably just inquiring as to whether or not Kraang and Donnie are “end game” as in like “are they going to be together forever?” but I think from a storytelling lens, the author does not have to endorse the actions of their characters. I think it’s very realistic given his character that Donnie would have a history of unhealthy relationships.

I don’t believe that depiction is necessarily endorsement, but I do think that in this day and age it’s important for us readers to promote nuanced discussion about *why* these characters are making unhealthy decisions and why we as readers should not try to recreate them in real life. Too often works like this can be taken out of context and weaponized by people that intend to do harm and take advantage of others.

I should mention that this is not a critique of you or your work, but rather of online spaces where it is far too easy for people to get hurt and what we as readers can do to make up for the shortcomings of the lack of safety restrictions online. This is just my personal thoughts though. Feel free to disregard.

idk to me ships are like "wouldnt that be funny/fucked up" or "this is insane but how would these two end up together- lets take a journey about it" but this would be a reasonable explanation of that ask, i guess

krang and donnie are "end game", if you wanna see it like that, because they enjoy each others company and the fucked up body horror BDSM situation they share. they aren't actually bad for each other in the end, though they don't start out that way.

also i'm gonna be real for a sec, you can use literally any kind of art to hurt people. people get groomed over minecraft, not cuz minecraft is Sensitive Media being shown to kids who shouldn't see it or whatever, but because it's a popular game that a lotta people like.

people get groomed using Lolita, a book that tells you right before you start reading it that the narrator is a liar and a disgusting amoral man, but people fall for it anyway cuz that's how manipulation works. it's not really about the media being used, it's about how the abuser wants to use it.

if you wanted to abuse a kid obsessed with dinosaurs you'd probably use media about dinosaurs to gain their trust, not an obscure tmnt abuse au where a wrinkly alien and a turtle man have weird kinky not-quite-sex.

i think discussions of characters are fun and interesting, don't get me wrong, that's like one of my main hobbies. but i dont think anything about it being This Day And Age makes people particularly more susceptible to having art used against them.

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Advisor,

I (M 21) have formed a tight-knit friend group in college. Yay! My closest college friends are the members of my ttrpg group, who we’ll call A, B, C, D, and E. A (F 21) and B (NB 22) have been dating for the whole time I’ve known them, about a year. Last year, A, B, and C lived in the same residence hall and were rarely apart. Now that B has graduated, the plan next year is for A and D to be roommates while C, E, and I live in a similar residence hall. I expect to see a lot of B, who plans to find a job and apartment in this town.

B is my friend, so this is *almost* fine. Except that while I like A, and I like B, it is painful to hang out with both of them at the same time. B is a fairly jealous person, and they get very upset and mean when A hangs out with friends without including them. When we get lunch together and the topic turns to an interest of A’s that B does not share, B usually ends up monologuing about how much they dislike the interest. These monologues often turn into teardowns of A as a person that the rest of us awkwardly sit through. A and B have a lot of their fights in public, and they’re mean to each other.

At this point, I’ve seen enough meanness that I don’t consider B a close friend anymore, and I’m wavering on A. I like both of them, but the way they’re willing to treat each other in public, especially the way B treats A, throws up a lot of red flags.

Any good options? I’m worried that if I tell A that I don’t like how B treats her, it’ll torpedo my friendships with both of them. C is A’s best friend, E is B’s best friend, and D is about to be A’s roommate, so it’s not like I can avoid either of them. And I do still like them, especially A. When it’s just the two of us, A is a good friend.

What do I do? I’m tempted to bring it up to our other friends, but I don’t like talking behind people’s backs.

Readers sometimes send Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them. If you’d like to submit a question for a Good Advice Interlude, use the “ask” form!

What a surprise it is, going on a decade-plus of Bad Advice, to finally have some TTRPG drama on the blog! ("Table-top role-playing games," for the uninitiated.) The Bad Advisor is all too familiar with the Darth Partner/Missing Stair dynamic (h/t Captain Awkward, the Pervocracy) in TTRPG scenarios and it's a real goddamned bummer, because you can mostly scoot away from the DP/MS at a party but when you're stuck at the gaming table with them, woof.

My first inclination, as an old-ass gamer lady, was to simply tell you that B will probably just move the fuck on from your group now that they're graduated and doing non-college things, but that doesn't help you in the moment, and they might not, and frankly DP/MS folks will show up for your entire fucking life if you're a game-type person in many and various modes, and it's good to figure out how you're going to handle them now and get some practice in with not tolerating nonsense in your circle. I'm gonna use some elaborate/belabored RPG metaphors in this response and want to emphasize that it doesn't mean your life is a game! (I also believe TTRPG life is real life, because it's my real life, too!) But you've given me a delightful tableau within which to work.

Your instincts for not just straight-up shit-talking and gossiping about A and B's deal are correct! You will never be able to keep those conversations totally private (nothing that starts in the TTRPG side-chat ever stays in the TTRPG side-chat), and for both A and B, it will suck to inevitably find out that their buds were engaged in such conversations. Is it possible you could safely feel out the other members of the group on the A/B relationship dynamic, as a fact-finding, temperature-taking mission? MAYBE. But it's a very risky maybe IMO, and if you don't love the dynamic, I don't necessarily think you need side-chat validation on this point. You have information the other players may or may not have; you are entitled to act upon it. I think we dispense with C, D, and E. You aren't them, and you can't control what they do or say or feel, and they aren't asking me for advice. But you can model behavior and steer your party!

So. What are you gonna do?

You start by describing B as a friend, but waffle on that some -- you've become less close because you dislike B's treatment of/behavior around A, which is fair! You're allowed to decide, with new information about how B behaves in particular situations, that you don't really like parts of a person, or maybe even that person at all! You don't have to set the whole motherfucker on fire to make your feelings known in a thoughtful, polite, and even kind way; if somebody else (B) blows that shit up, it's on them! They are a whole other person who will act a way in a game/life that you cannot control; the only thing you need to feel good about at the end of your turn is that you did something that was true to you/your character. Because for real, if there's one thing I know about people, it's that telling people to do a thing because you want them to do a thing (such as: "Y'all are miserable and you should split up!") will almost always result in the told-parties doubling down on the opposite of what the telling-party wants them to do. (This is what I do to torture my folks when I am the dungeon-master, because it is what people do!)

Assuming we're talking about garden variety shitty relationship behavior (which is what I think you've described here) and not full-scale abuse in public, I think you have a number of options depending on the situation. I don't mean to suggest that you should accommodate bad behavior; you already know that feels crappy and sows discord and confusion because you're doing it, now, by trying to side-step around the ick. You gotta choose your move depending on where you are on the board.

The next time A and B get into it in front of everybody (during a game, or at the bar, or the coffee shop, or the student union, or wherever), you pretend-roll a charisma check and imagine you got a 15+ and they rolled a combined 3 (because they have??? nobody likes this!!!!), and you say something to this effect: "Hey, A and B? These vibes are not great, can we table this tiff until later?" Repeat as needed! Passive voice/vague antecedents are great in these kinds of situations: "Can folks not get into this right now?"/"Moving on! Let's focus on XYZ!"/"Feels like we're getting off track — can we do ABC instead?"/"Wow! That's kind of awkward and private! Let's not do that here!" If it helps, imagine B is the obnoxious NPC you need to get the bare minimum of compliance out of to continue the game of not blowing up the entire situation. You already have a good bead on what people do when they feel attacked, because you're literally playing games wherein that make-believe happens! People fight back and get defensive! It's a bad scene!

Other people's bad relationships are theirs to solve, so you can treat interactions regarding those relationships as open-ended puzzle games that are not for you to finish. You are the Oracle, not the puzzlemaster. If you get A or B on their own in a safe space where you're not rushed to get somewhere or hungry or otherwise pissy or wanting, why not ask: How does it feel when A/B does that? What would you like to see happen instead when Bad interaction happens? What might you do about that irritating/annoying/weird thing A/B does? Despite what I said in the prior bullet points, your friends are not NPCs, and of course you know this or you wouldn't be asking — they are the main characters in their own lives, and you can neither save nor sink them.

It might be that A and B stay in this weird bad relationship! If it continues to cause bad vibes at the game nights/within your circle, I think you're well within your rights to say, either to one or both of them if they haven't gotten previous messages: "Hey, I like you both, I want to keep doing XYZ fun things with y'all, but this dynamic is actually really, legitimately killing the vibe, because I don't get to see the fun part where y'all make up and feel good about everything, I only see the bad arguing parts and it's just a real downer!" Don't let them off the hook about this! Stand your ground when they come back with "Oh, we're just joking" or "Ah, well, that's just how we are." Okay, they're joking and that's how they are, but it SUCKS TO BE AROUND and if it's not a big deal, they can cut that shit out!

The whole deal blows, and you're in a sorry position to have to navigate it. It just absolutely is a shit situation to have a friend-group whose dynamic is messed up in this way. But you're asking because your interest is in maintaining a collective good-feeling, and I can promise you that skipping the missing stair of A and B's bad vibes (and maybe specifically B's behavior) will absolutely in the long-term result in the precise kind of bad-feeling you're trying to avoid by skating past it today. Resentment, distrust, annoyance, back-channeling — all of the things we build and do to avoid being emotionally honest with people who care about because we think it'll hurt less in the moment, or get better later, or just change, somehow — are also 10000000% guaranteed ways to push us farther apart from the people we love, rather than keep us close and friendly.

Your people will always be your people. You have a wonderful and beloved friend group, and you will lose and add members of your party throughout your life, but you will never lose any people who were supposed to be your people if you commit to being kindly forthright while modeling your needs, boundaries, and appreciations for them. This isn't a skill you pick up once and do automatically forever; it takes work and commitment throughout your life and it's fucking annoying and awkward and so, so worth it.

[seizethedeansofproduction]

Everything everywhere all at once winning best picture and all the other awards makes me very emotional. From a representational standpoint yes. But I guess also from a filmmaker standpoint.

(I KNOW THIS IS LONG BUT IF YOU COULD READ THIS, THAT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD)

I’ve been making films for 10 or so years and for many years never saw much outward success. I would put my all into a project, down to hand making the sets, costumes, editing it myself (etc), but when I would submit to festivals for kid filmmakers, I would be left heartbroken sitting in the theater knowing that my film wasn’t good enough. That is had been too weird, not shot on a good enough quality camera, and that it simply wasn’t the “type of film” that could win awards.

Then enter this film. It marched to the beat of its own drum, it told a story that was authentic and sincere, it told a story about a Chinese immigrant and her family (A STORY WHICH RARELY GETS TOLD TO A MASS AUDIENCE IN MAINSTREAM HOLLYWOOD), it told a story about a queer woman struggling with family issues and depression and suicide, it gave no fucks, it gave them all. It was goofy. It was chaotic. It was heart wrenching. It was everything.

I’m a filmmaker, but I’m also sometimes a cynic. At times I am worried about the future of creative fields I hope to enter given AI threatening real artists, the increasing difficulty to break into Hollywood with no connections, and of course a litany of reboots, sequels, and franchises (not to say that this is bad, but there’s a tiny part of me that fears that this is all it will end up being. At least in terms of studio funding). I worry that while I may make films now, there may not be a place for me one day.

Seeing this film changed that. EEAAO was so boldly itself that it relit my creative spark to make work that would do the same.

And of course the awards. 

If you had told me a couple years ago that a film about rocks and hotdog fingers would win best picture, I would have been confused then probably laughed. Even as the award season beast was beginning to awaken from it’s year long slumber, I remained skeptical that this film would get awards, much less hundreds of them. Yet it destroyed the competition and with every win and every speech, my heart got a bit more full and damn it, I believed that maybe there was a chance this film could take the title.

Last Sunday, I wasn’t able to watch the oscars. I had just gotten over being sick and needed the sleep. The next morning I woke up and by some stroke of fate the people on the radio were talking about the Oscars, I held my breath, and I heard it. Best Picture Winner Everything Everywhere All At Once. I later watched the acceptance speeches that day and wept. This meant the world to me now but also to the me years ago who sat in those theaters with a broken heart thinking that their movies weren't good enough.

Now of course you can still be a cynic (or a realist who knows?) and assume that this changes nothing. No needle was moved. And next year the films getting awarded and produced with tons of eyes on them will be the next Green Book or whatever. But if this movie’s taught me anything, its that feeling optimism is ok.

And yeah given all it's wins, people are probably now gonna rag about it and say it's overrated. They can have their opinions, but I don't care. Like what you want to like, life's too short.

I’m gonna keep on making movies, the kind of movies I want to make not what I try to make to win awards or impress other people. I’m gonna try to be a kinder person. I’m going try to keep on telling stories of queer people, of found families, of hope, of comedy, and of whatever else I can think of. I’m gonna hope that people continue to create just as they always do and that this time they get the attention, platform, and opportunities that they deserve instead of it going to those who don’t.

Thank you Michelle Yeoh. Thank you Stephanie Hsu. Thank you Ke Huy Quan. Thank you Jamie Lee Curtis. Thank you James Hong. Thank you Paul Rogers. Thank you Jonathan Wang. Thank You Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert. Thank You Everything Everywhere All At Once.

You changed my life and countless others. Thank you thank you thank you.

[originalocshowdown]

Original Original OC Showdown!

Just going to start off with that I am NOT intentionally copying @original-character-championship! This was an idea that’s been floating around in my head for awhile.

So!

Do YOU have good enough memory to remember your very first OC, whether it be the first oc you made for a certain fandom or maybe even your very very first OC ever? Do YOU have a very cringey OC that you’d like to forget about but can’t?

Well, this is the poll for you!

To begin, here are a few rules...

--> Please, NO canon characters! I don’t care from what media, but none of that. This is for OCs only. (On that note, if your OC is from an anime/game/other type of thing feel free to enter them!)

--> Absolutely NO real life fcs! Including celebrities/streamers! Picrews ARE allowed as long as you give credit in propaganda or mention that it’s a Picrew!

--> NO trash talking! I do NOT want to cause fights between fandoms!

--> NO being rude to me or anyone else possibly running this! WE are people too and do not wish to be harassed or ban anyone from this tournament! If your character didn’t get in, you probably submitted them too late!

--> Mary Sues and Gary Stus are WELCOMED and ENCOURAGED! We’re here to laugh and cringe at our very first attempts at making OCs! (on that note, I’m gonna be submitting one of my own, very cringey OCs, so we can laugh at me too!) --> I won’t be choosing who’s paired up against who, so please don’t be mad! It will be decided via wheel!

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ 

SUBMISSION FORM HERE!

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSf4Qi1mNt2tIJ7pMCrOkKAg0VDRRAhPR2G9xDCazW6JNH5cww/viewform?usp=sf_link

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ 

INSPIRATIONS!

@akane-showdown ! @original-character-championship ! @pinkandbluebracket ! @a3outfitstournament ! And many others!

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

FRIENDOS!

@greensaint ! @vexxzyi ! @glassthelocalgremlin ! @feral-bird-enjoyer ! @lc-is-bored ! @f1avovitta ! @foxes81ofanime ! @drowzydeer ! @gayforjuza ! 

[paradoxpig]

TERRIFIER is such a weird beast of a film franchise. Not because the movies are deeply complicated or anything, they’re anything but. They just have me thinking about the length of what artist can make before a line gets drawn.

I believe that film makers shouldn’t have limits when crafting their films, because indeed, movies are an art form, and shouldn’t be policed. In most cases. I think it’s great that the director, after being turned away by other financial supporters due to a scene too gruesome, was able to find financial support eventually.

But at some point you gotta just question…why?

I remember earlier in the 3rd movies’ production, reports were pouring in that the fabled evil scene included a child. It’s a Christmas horror, you’d pretty much figure a child would be in harm’s way. And also giving the record Terrifier 2 set for just how unspeakably brutal it’s scenes can get…you begin to wonder. Plus the recent tweet going around about a scene so “insanely horrific” that it caused Art’s actor to vomit on set.

Now maybe that’s just bait. There’s plenty of people that find the bedroom scene in Terrifier 2 to be cartoonishly silly, while others ran from the theater with puke bags. (If you’re unfamiliar and want to look it up out of curiosity, please consider the level of gore you can handle. It’s not for beginners.) I remember it making my stomach sick on my first blind viewing, but finding it laughable on rewatches. In my opinion, that’s a positive thing. As tasteless as it is to some, it can still be enjoyed by plenty others. At the end of the day, it’s a work of art. And maybe this scene they’re hyping up will be no different. But again, if it involves a child instead of a grown person… it’s gonna be so much harder to get around.

Why even make it to begin with? Why let something that twisted in your mind get out into the world? Should self expression have a limit? Is there some ideas so ruthless we should bar them from being brought to life? Have the creator no humility? Do we need to submit Damion Leon for psychological help, or is it actually wicked cool that we’re letting his freak flag fly so boundless?

I want to say no. But I feel there should be a limit…when other people get involved. Unless you can find staff, stars, etc., as 100% engrossed in your project as you are, or it’s something you can make on your own…you should have to show some restraint…shouldn’t you…?

I’m mostly fearful for those involved on set, here in the real world. You’d imagine David Howard Thornton has an iron will by now, so it worries me to think what could have penetrated that. Again, if this horrific scene being brought up involved a child, they better put that kid through some serious therapy afterwards. I don’t care how good of an actor/tress they may be, or how little they’re actually used in place of prosthetics/robotics/etc practical effects. I can’t imagine the damage that could do to their psyche.

Maybe I just sound like the same people that complained when the Saw movies were at their peak in popularity. I can see that. Though those movies, while probably on the same scale to many, personally, are a huge step down from Terrifier. In terms of kills. Also they actually have, like, something to say? Most if not all the kills have a story reason. A meaning. Art the Clown just kinda shreds people because he feels like it. As far as we know. It’s thoughtless. Which makes just want to say why? more.

A lot of this post is based on hearsay. I know that. I guess we won’t know until Terrifier 3 releases. I don’t intend to catch it in theaters (mostly because I don’t know a single soul brave enough to attend it with me) but I will keep an eye out for its digital release, and the press surrounding it until then.

[thenerdyunhealthybrit]

JDramas and their fascination with adults and minors(?)

TW: Grooming and Adult-Minor relationship

Jdramas are funny with the amount of dramas about an adult/minor relationship. Whether it’s teacher-student of not. I get that probably a huge chunk of them are adaptations of mangas.

But I can’t help but laugh at how many dramas are still going on that romanticise this as oppose to addressing the things. Maybe it has to do with how its perceived in Japan. Like take this example:

So I decided to watch Takane and Hana because I was curious by the plot synopsis and how it addresses the issue.

This is the plot from MDL:

“ After her older sister refuses to go to an arranged marriage meeting with Takane Saibara, the heir to a vast business fortune, high schooler Hana Nonomura agrees to be her stand-in to save face for the family. But what happens when Hana meets Takane is an unexpected pairing of utter opposites! “

Now. I don’t know what I was fully expecting. To be honest, I thought it would be, at least for a good chunk of the series about Hana, the high schooler having to pretend to be an adult and “deceive” the rich guy to avoid getting her father and family into trouble. I don’t know. I was expecting more of a comedy like she wants nothing to do with him but has to pretend she he believes she’s her sister.

What I got instead? The reveal happened within the first half of the first episode (unexpected). And in the original meeting they hated each other (expected). His response? Go to her school and shower her with flowers. 

There was then a bit where the sister whose vain, dumps her boyfriend and decides she wants to be in the arranged marriage with Takane and her family agrees since she’s the original one (an adult) and the “pretty” sister. So then I thought it was gonna develop into Hana feeling unwanted by her family and Takane and the sister in the arranged marriage agreement but Takane not wanting it but trapped. What we get is Takane refusing the sister and insisting the arrangement is with Hana. So it becomes this weird thing where you have an adult actively pursuing a high schooler (though they try to play the narrative at times that he’s just doing it to get him to “submit” to the lavish lifestyle she despises. The you have his friends, her friends and HER parents all being chill about the whole thing and encouraging this relationship.

It’s all very wtf and not what I fully expected.

I think from what people said about the Manga is that the relationship is more friendship and feelings (at least on Takane’s side) don’t develop until she’s older or near the end of the manga. And that cause the series is only 8 episodes and 25 mins each - the last arc is crammed severely. Whereas the TV series has them kissing in episode 1 or episode 2 (not a “real” in love kiss) and the series portrays them having feelings early on but both react differently to having feelings.

As a whole, I liked the start of it, it was fast paced, but I got bored around the midway point and the development was rushed. I don’t mind watching series about student-teacher relationships since they are problematic and it’s my first time watching an adult-minor relationship. But it did leave me icky how there was no real opposition to them because of this everyone was rooting for them. The series just wasn’t strong enough for me to forget my morals and enjoy the fictional drama cause I got bored easily.

At least with TWDrama, Lessons in Love - it addressed the themes, they had opposition. And even though the relationship was romanticised, they had moments where you could see the power imbalance between the teacher-student and the level of grooming when they first hook up (which stops on the student’s side because he felt uncomfortable and the teacher was clearly doing it at revenge at his mother). They had strong opposition from adults (and some students). It also turned into a revenge drama and thriller later on. And while it still had some issues, the teacher’s best friend who is the school nurse encouraging her to hook up with the student and of course the happy ending for the relationship. You can abandon your morals for the sake of a fictional drama because it was quite solid and it addressed other themes like social class, wealth, rich/poor, the influence of parents on a child’s education (and the influence of a rich parent on their child’s education.

[razorsadness]

A week ago Thursday, I took a long walk around my neighborhood. Later, at night, I sat out on the back steps for a while, listening to all the night sounds: the pop and snap of wood burning in a neighbor’s fire pit, critters rustling in the weeds, the lonesome howl of a freight train in the near distance.

The next day started off kinda shitty. I was dealing with more confusing and annoying bureaucratic red tape re: energy assistance, plus some other stuff along similar lines, and the kids were cranky, and I was feeling all sad and cranky myself and dwelling on some old issues that rear up from time to time—maybe cuz of PMS, maybe cuz of Mercury Rx, probably a little of both. C. and I took a little outing to the garden center, and I got some more soil for this year’s garden, and some pansies for outside, and a little African violet for indoors. That helped a bit, but when I got back, I was still stressed and sad, and P. could tell, and he told me to take the rest of the evening to do whatever would make me feel better. So I had a tiny bit of an edible, then took a long, hot bath and ate some dark chocolate, and it worked wonders.

Saturday was better. I wrote a poem, worked on editing some poems, and submitted some poems to a couple lit zines. After the kids were asleep, P. and I had sex.

That night I had a strange dream that P. and I were visiting some old friends of his, and we were there for hours and hours and I wanted to leave because I was tired, but he decided he had to make this elaborate slow-cooked pepper sauce (??) before he left. So I was like: “Can I just leave, and you can crash here?” But he said that would be rude so I had to stay, too and I was pissed. I don’t know where the fuck that dream came from.

The next day my anxiety was through the roof—about (lack of) money, about bills, about other things that I couldn’t even identify. And we were going to have dinner with my mom because my dad was out of town, and having dinner with my parents often stresses me out. But it turned out okay. I remembered that my parents are much less awful to be around when it’s just one of them, not both.

That night I had another weird dream. I was in Chicago, at a zine fest held at my alma mater, CCC (much like the actual MWPZF was, last October), and I had a new zine with me that I’d just finished the day before and hadn’t had a chance to make copies of. (Which, again, is much like real life experiences I’ve had—I’m notorious for rushing to make copies the day before or day of zine fests.) Anyway, someone told me there was a Xerox machine in one of the offices where they’d let me make copies for free, so I went there. The guy working was this super hot punky French dude named Guillaume, and it was like we locked eyes and immediately knew we wanted to bang. We were just gonna fuck right there in the office, but people kept coming in and interrupting us, so we couldn’t. Later, we decided to go find a hotel and get a room and fuck there, so we were wandering downtown Chicago looking for a hotel we could afford, and we finally found one—but it was being used as a vaccine clinic, and was so packed with people waiting to get vaxxed that we couldn’t even get inside to see if there were rooms available. Also my parents were there for some reason, waiting to get vaccines at a hotel in Chicago, which kinda killed my horny mood. It was a terribly frustrating dream. And also hella weird. (And also my dream dude Guillaume was really hot, and he’s been popping up in my fantasies ever since.)

The first of May was probably the best day of the week. It was too cold and rainy to do any outdoor activities, but I taught D. a bit about the labor rights/anarchist history of May Day for school, did a bunch of artsy-crafty stuff, did some witchy stuff. I started mapping out my new poetry project—a (book-length!) sonnet sequence about a love affair I had in the summer of 2005. I’d already planned on writing a poem about that lover and that summer, but then realized I had more to say about it than would fit in just one poem. Then I thought of a book I recently read and loved—Maggie Millner’s Couplets, which is a book of poems about a love affair—and thought: oh! I could write a book of poems about it! And then I thought of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Fatal Interview, and thought: oh! the book could be a sonnet sequence! Which is incredibly nerdy, I know, but is also super exciting for me, as I’ve been getting back into sonnets with a vengeance; and seems especially appropriate considering that the spring/summer of 2005 was when I first got obsessed with Edna Millay and with writing my own sonnets. Later, I listened to electro-swing while making pasta primavera for dinner. And P. and I got to have sexytimes again that night.

Tuesday, my period started, and my anxiety was through the roof again. But I did yoga, which helped a little, as did listening to some good old fashioned punk rock. And I worked a bit more on my sonnet-book, which, I decided that day, will be titled Untrue Aftermath—both because it has the same syllable count as/a similar feeling to Fatal Interview, and because it comes from a sonnet I wrote in the summer of 2005.

I started off Wednesday feeling so good. I did yoga, made myself a strawberry-blueberry-banana smoothie for breakfast. But then I got a phone call from energy assistance saying that I needed to call back and verify more stuff—stuff which I had already verified, by the way—or my application was going to expire. Which sent me into a panic, because I’d already received the disconnection notice from the power company, and though I didn’t know what day they’d turn it off, I knew it wasn’t far off. So I verified it all again, and then kept calling back to make sure they had all the information they needed and my application wouldn’t expire, and they assured me it was fine! It was all good now! So I thought I had that taken care of, but I was still stressed just from dealing with it, and also was thinking about my cousin C.W., who was going into surgery later that day, to remove part of his colon and intestines, due to cancer.

But the day got better. It was sunny, and warm enough to go outside and plant the pansies and get some veggies sprouting. We also did other yard work, like cutting back the mulberry bushes which are trying to overtake the yard, and then I helped C. build a lean-to from some of the mulberry branches. Then I worked on more of Untrue Aftermath, and P. and I cooked delicious Jamaican jerk burgers for dinner. And I got good news about my cousin—the surgery went well, and they’re pretty sure they got all the cancer.

I didn’t sleep well that night, either. At first it was fun being up late; I sat on the porch alone to listen to the night sounds, to dream and scheme. But then, even when I wanted to go to sleep, I couldn’t, and started, once again, worrying about everything.

I woke up the next day exhausted, with jaw and tooth pain, because I sometimes grind my teeth in my sleep when I’m stressed. The morning light on the yard was beautiful, though, and in the afternoon, I dropped D. off with my parents, and went to run a couple errands. I was feeling good, driving around, drinking an iced coffee, looking at all the trees in bloom and singing along to old favorite songs I still love. I thought I’d get home, work on my sonnet sequence, and make a cake. And then I got home and I just crashed. I felt ancient and tired and sad and ugly. I started missing the good old bad old days, while simultaneously feeling like I was in them.

Let’s see if I can explain…working on Untrue Aftermath, well, I’ve been delving back into the summer of 2005, reconstructing events and emotions from old journal entries and photographs and mix tapes. But what sometimes happens when I fall too deep into the nostalgic k-hole of a particular timeframe—it’s happened before, and it happened this time—is, I start remembering things I hadn’t even kept record of, and I start feeling how I felt back then, and then the wave of memories and emotions becomes so vivid and intense that it feels like it’s happening again, in real time. Which, to paraphrase myself, is good for my writing, but so very bad for my delicate heart.

But then the other thing that happens is that, though I may be experiencing all the old memories and feelings in real time, my brain also likes to remind me of all the ways that the Now is not like Ye Olde Days. That was happening on Thursday, too. You know, my brain was going: Remember all your lovers and all your adventures? You barely have adventures anymore. And you’ll never have a new lover again, not just because of the relationship you’re in but because you’re old and ugly and no one would even want you. (To quote an Edna St. Vincent sonnet that’s not from Fatal Interview: I only know that summer sang in me / A little while, that in me sings no more.)

All that got me too sad and restless to focus on writing or baking. So I read my friend Jonas’s newest book, and built some LEGOs with C., and ate linguini and clam sauce for dinner. Later, I sat out on the front porch again and watched the almost-full Flower Moon rising through the flowering trees. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what I had, and it was enough to get me through.

Friday, I woke up in a better mood, and the weather was good. I had such plans for the day. I was going to bake the cake, and then we were going to do more gardening, and then make burritos (with homemade guacamole) for dinner. I was in the middle of making the cake—batter was more than half done, oven was preheating—when our gas and electricity got shut off. I immediately called energy assistance to see what the fuck was going on. The woman I talked to was like: “Well, see, it was really confusing because you reported this and then you reported this conflicting thing, you sent in this form but then sent in that other form, blah blah.” And I didn’t yell because I knew it wasn’t her fault individually, but I said: “It was confusing to me, too! I only sent in and verified what I was asked to, it’s not my fault that people told me to send in and verify conflicting things.” She said: “We can book you for a crisis appointment over the phone at 4:40 p.m. today, to cancel out your previous application and put in a crisis one.” I agreed to it, but said: “This would not have been a crisis situation had everything been processed a month ago like it should have been.” I was pissed. For once in my life I was on top of my end of shit, and this still happened?!

We packed as much of our refrigerated food as possible into an ice chest with a bunch of ice and packed all our frozen food (plus the meat for the burritos) into the big freezer in our basement with several large bags of ice. Then I booked a hotel room for the night, and put a call for help on my main blog.

It may have been slightly irresponsible, financially, to book a hotel room, rather than stay with my parents—but mentally/emotionally, it was the right thing to do. Because my parents would have made that night hell for me. Whenever anything like this has happened in the past, even if I am not asking them for financial help and am finding other ways to take care of it myself, they just berate me, endlessly. “Why didn’t you just pay the bill off months ago?” they say. “We didn’t have the money,” I tell them. “Why didn’t you have the money? Why don’t you get a better job? Why doesn’t P. get a better job? Blah blah blah.” This time would have been no different. They wouldn’t have cared that it actually wasn’t my fault, that I applied for assistance as soon as I knew I wouldn’t be able to pay the bill, and that I stayed on top of it but e.a. didn’t have their shit together. No, that wouldn’t have mattered at all. They would have insisted on giving me the money to pay the bill—even if I told them I didn’t want them to, and was working on other ways to get the power back on. Then they would have spent the rest of the night lecturing me about how they shouldn’t have to help me out financially like that anymore and can’t afford to now that my dad’s retired (which I know and agree! which is why I wouldn’t ask them to!), and on all the ways in which both I and my partner are fuck-ups (which, news flash: lecturing someone about how they’re a failure doesn’t help them not be a failure).

Once we got to the motel, I did the math, and figured out that if I got around $1000 from my emergency post, I could put that together with the money I had set aside for rent, ask my landlord to hold off on cashing the check until I get paid from my most recent proofreading gig (which should be by the 10th, and she usually doesn’t cash our rent checks until after the 10th of the month anyway), and pay the minimum balance to get the power turned back on, so that even if the e.a. thing didn’t work out, I could still get our power back on the next day.

Then I had the crisis appointment. If only they had given me one of those a month ago, it wouldn’t have been a crisis! The woman I spoke to this time was actually on top of things. She gathered all the information she could from our previous application, and just asked me to verify/clarify a few more things. The approval for the amount of help they can give went through right away, but she told me the payment wouldn’t go through until Wednesday. Well, fuck, I thought, there’s no way we can afford to stay in a motel for that many nights, plus by then all our food would spoil, and we can’t afford to replace all that, either. So I was just praying that my emergency post would get enough of a response that I could pay the minimum the next day. I asked the woman from e.a. what would happen if I did that, if it would somehow cancel the assistance, and she said no, it would just go toward paying off whatever was left on the bill and/or be put towards the next one.

After that, there was nothing more I could do for the night other than periodically reblog my emergency post, so I decided to try and enjoy myself/relax as best I could. I did have a brief thought that the universe heard me longing for ye olde days, and decided to grant my wish, in a very monkey’s paw way. Like: Oh, you want the old days back? The days of adventure, when you could never afford to pay your bills on time and were constantly living with no gas or electricity? Fuck, Universe, that’s not what I meant; guess I should have been more careful what I wished for.

But I also did get a bit of the good parts of the old days—namely, staying in a roadside motel. I just love hotels and motels so much. All the people coming in and out, the free coffee 24/7, the way that they’re liminal spaces so even if you’re staying in your own town it’s like you’ve stepped out of daily time and into something different. We ordered pizza for dinner, cuz one of the better pizza places in town opened up a new carryout-and-delivery spot just down the road from where we were staying, and they delivered it right to the room. P. and I both took long hot showers; the kids both took baths.

I kept going outside to smoke, which I have been so good about not doing recently, but all the stress just fucking got to me and I caved. I’d go outside to smoke, watch the cars pulling into and out of the parking lot, the people checking into the hotel, the parking lot across the way with the rehab center next to the coffeeshop where I saw Adam Fell do a reading back in early 2018. I watched and listened to the redwing blackbirds, swooping and chirring in the roadside marsh. In my head, I played a medley of all my favorite hotel and motel songs. One of them being, of course, “Can’t Hardly Wait.” And at one point I noticed that most of the vehicles in the parking lot had Minnesota plates. Turned out that there was a youth football team from Minnesota staying there for the night. And then a little while later, outside having another smoke, this trio of young punks approached me—I guess they saw my tattoos and my t-shirt with the sleeves torn off and knew I was one of them—we all stood around smoking and chatting, and it turned out they were a punk band…from Minnesota. What are the fucking odds?

I was up late. Full moons and motels both make me restless, plus I was still worried about the power situation. Wondering if my emergency post would get enough traction to get me the money I needed; wondering if my landlord would be pissed when I asked her to hold the rent check, and if I’d have to pay her the $50 late fee. I was up late, sipping whiskey, wishing that I was having a fun motel night of drinking and sex rather than the type of motel night I was having, but I was enjoying myself despite it. When I went out to have my last cigarette of the night, and look at the full moon, I took my little plastic motel cup of ice & whiskey out with me, and the Minnesota punks were out there too, smoking and drinking beer. We talked again. They asked me to come party with them in their room, and I was like “oh, boys, thank you, but I am here with my husband and kids and I don’t think they’d appreciate me bailing on them to go party.” I mean I really was thankful that they asked me. Made me feel like I’m not so old and boring after all, if some punk kids nearly two decades younger than I am think I’m cool enough to party with.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt that I met [redacted] and we got drunk and had sloppy-drunk motel sex.

In the morning, we partook of the complimentary breakfast and coffee, and I checked on the money and energy situation. People really stepped up, I got enough that I could have paid the minimum balance and any late fee my landlord asked. So I called the energy company, asked them how I needed to pay the balance to get my power back on that day, and they let me know. I went on the website, and as I was entering my information to pay, I mean I was literally about to hit the ‘complete payment’ button, I got a phone call from energy assistance. Telling me that, because they’d marked it as a crisis, their assistance amount went through that day instead of needing to wait until Wednesday. So I called the power company back, they confirmed it had gone through and told me how much I now owed, and because it was less than I’d initially thought due to the assistance going through, I was able to pay the bill completely off without even needing to put a hold on the rent check.

After that, we packed up, grabbed some more free coffee (and cocoa for the kids) from the lobby, checked out, came home, and called the power company one last time to get the power back on. Then we checked our food—everything was still good, hallelujah.

The rest of Saturday, I was exhausted, but happy. Glad to be home. Thinking maybe I learned a couple lessons from all this. One being that if I ever need energy assistance again, I should apply at least two months ahead of time. The other being: appreciate what you have. Adventure’s not all it’s cracked up to be, at least not when it comes with that kind of chaos. And I was appreciative. Appreciative that friends and strangers alike helped me out when I most needed it. Appreciative that the energy assistance came through after all, even if it was last minute. Appreciative that the food was still good, and we were able to make the guacamole and burritos for dinner that we’d planned on making the night before.

I was so sure I’d sleep well that night because I was so tired. I fell asleep fine, but then C. woke up in the middle of the night, and it was difficult to get him back to sleep. And then even when he did fall back to sleep, I was awake for another couple hours.

So yesterday I was even more exhausted than I was Saturday. I mean, I hadn’t slept well in several nights; that was a problem even before the power outage. I was exhausted, and C. was exhausted and cranky, and I had to catch up on a bunch of laundry. But it wasn’t all bad, in fact there was a lot of good. The weather was beautiful. A couple of the poems from one of the lit zine submissions I sent out at the end of April got accepted for publication. I got hired for a new proofreading gig, a pretty well-paying one. Because of that, and the fact that I’m getting the paycheck from my last gig very soon, and the fact that my energy bill is now square, I actually have a teeny bit of extra money—which I’m using a portion of to give to other causes and people who are in urgent situations right now. Then, last night, we went to have dinner with my parents. We did tell them some of what happened on Friday, but because it was no longer urgent we could play it off as ‘oh, our power was out for a night, we stayed in a motel, it was an adventure,’ and there was no lecture and everything was fine. They watched the kids for a bit; P. and I went to get takeout to bring back for everyone, and had a round of beers while we waited. (My parents treated us.) I was absolutely enamored by the bartender and the two waitresses. They were all queer femmes (takes one to know one); these young, rough-ass bitches (and oh, I mean rough-ass bitches in an absolutely positive way) wearing these ridiculous, amazing outfits (stuff I would love to wear but probably wouldn’t have the guts to; but probably would have worn when I was as young as they are). And Halsey’s “Bad At Love” came on, and they all started singing along, at the top of their lungs and so full of feeling in that “I’ve been there” way and god, I love people. Truly, I do. Then, dinner with the kids and the parents, and it was actually pleasant and low-key, for once. And then home again, home again, once again exhausted and happy. We all finally slept well. I only woke up in the night once. I was having a dream in which I was reading a beautiful poem (I am one of those rare people who can actually read text in my dreams sometimes), and I woke up with one line from the poem still in my mind. I rolled over, pulled up the notes app on my phone, typed it in, then went back to sleep. This morning, I read what I’d typed: in the time of the witches / the streets were smoked with blue perfume. That’s pretty excellent. I need to use it (or something like it) in a real poem. Today I started my new proofreading gig, did schooling with the kiddos. I had to make one last call to the power company, to make sure the payment/arrangement went through so we don’t end up in that situation again; according to them it’s all good and now this hellish cycle of phone calls and panic is done. I’m not in the best mood today—all the stress of the past few days has worn me down; and everything has been so weird and wild lately that the past few days has felt more like a few weeks. And oh, now our oven is crapping out, which is another thing we can’t afford. Plus it’s rainy and chilly again, so I can’t go outside and garden or just sit in the sun, and I’m just kinda sad, really. I’m trying to make the most of today and not get into a total funk. I dressed up in a way that’s comfy and fabulous at the same time. I made myself a box of Annie’s mac and cheese for lunch, because that’s one of my comfort foods. Now I’m drinking tea, and I’m hoping to find the time to work on poetry stuff later. Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be better, so I’m planning to go to the library (I have a novel on hold there that I’m very excited for); maybe go to the post office (some people ordered books and zines from my emergency post; also the post office has Lichtenstein stamps now and I need some!). Over all, I am so grateful for how everything turned out. It’s been a fucked up few days, but it could have been a lot worse. And next time I’m lonely for adventure? Please remind me that just a trip to the library or a walk around my neighborhood will suffice.

[sheepgobahhahhh]

Ik nobody is probably gonna see this but heyyy, this is just me ranting so if anyone comes upon this .Make sure to use everything I say, as a reason for you to do your own research on this topic , cuz there's always a chance I might have either said something wrong or just forgot to point something out which was important 😗

One thing that happens alot of the time , is that certain words become perverted and lose their real meaning

And to make it clear , pervert doesn't always mean turning something innocent into something sexual

It basically means

To distort or corrupt the original course, meaning, or state of (something).

Or to lead (someone) away from what is considered natural or acceptable.

( This meanings are quite literally straight from Google lmao)

The main word I'm talking about is:

submit/submissive.

(This word is usually perverted into something sexual (Top or bottom) , or just what "level" you are (Someone is lower (socially) than someone else)

Which I find happening alot when it comes to the Bible

The Bible has used this word multiple times, but because people always pervert the words of the Bible ,and other people rather than doing their own research just listen to the same people who perverted the word in the first place, start deceiving themselves into thinking it's the truth so they can indulge in their shameful desires

Many people because of this end up getting the wrong idea on what the Bible teaches, and some even end up getting badly hurt due to peoples stupidity which always ends up with them severing their relationship with God

The Bible most of the time uses this word for the relationship between a women and a men,

Ephesians 5:21-22 NLT

[21] And further, submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. [22] For wives, this means submit to your husbands as to the Lord.

Our relationship with God

Job 22:21-23 NLT

[21] “Submit to God, and you will have peace; then things will go well for you. [22] Listen to his instructions, and store them in your heart. [23] If you return to the Almighty, you will be restored— so clean up your life.

Chronicles 30:8 NLT

[8] Do not be stubborn, as they were, but submit yourselves to the Lord. Come to his Temple, which he has set apart as holy forever. Worship the Lord your God so that his fierce anger will turn away from you.

Or even the government which God would appoint

Romans 13:1 NLT

[1] Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God.

[4] The authorities are God’s servants, sent for your good. But if you are doing wrong, of course you should be afraid, for they have the power to punish you. They are God’s servants, sent for the very purpose of punishing those who do what is wrong. [5] So you must submit to them, not only to avoid punishment, but also to keep a clear conscience

And many other relationships!

Ofc this is where the word 'submit' ends up becoming a "you are lower"

The ONLY time , it might have that meaning. Is when we submit to GOD (and even then that's still not what the Bible is trying to show, it has other verses for that) , because human beings in general are very much lower than GOD.

BUT , human beings are NOT lower than other human beings .

Matthew 23:8-9 NLT

[8] “Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. [9] And don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your Father.

"All of you are equal as brothers and sisters" 🧐

Galatians 3:28-29 NLT

[28] There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus. [29] And now that you belong to Christ, you are the true children of Abraham. You are his heirs, and God’s promise to Abraham belongs to you.

1 Corinthians 7:3-5 NLT

[3] The husband should fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should fulfill her husband’s needs. [4] The wife gives authority over her body to her husband, and the husband gives authority over his body to his wife. [5] Do not deprive each other of sexual relations, unless you both agree to refrain from sexual intimacy for a limited time so you can give yourselves more completely to prayer. Afterward, you should come together again so that Satan won’t be able to tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

(This is for the people that pervert the word submit, and try and to turn into something they can use to force others (usually women) to do stuff with them by guilt tripping them)

This quite literally shows that a REAL biblical relationship, should be equal and that both the partners should love eachother and try to make the other happy (and make sure to keep the other in check so they don't stumble into sin)

Biblical relationships are definitely not one-sided , both to love and to pleasure ( and also , stressing out the "unless you both refrain" part, even if it's for prayer)

ALSO I suggested that everyone makes sure to go and read the whole page maybe even the chapter for themselves so you guys can get a better understanding

Ephesians 5:33 NLT

[33] So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

Galatians 6:1-3 NLT

[1] Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself. [2] Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. [3] If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important.

"If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important." Lmao , wake up call for alot of people

It's important to realise that the true meaning of submit runs much deeper than "haha you lower, so you follow my every order"

The person you plan on submitting to ( GOD, your husband, a president) NEEDS to have the role of a person that LOVES you, and wants to do everything in his power to protect and take care of you .

- Husband loves his wife and children so he sacrifices himself if needed and provides for the house , the wife and the children? . Wife respects and loves the husband and uses what the husband provided to take care of the house and children

- Government provides for their country and tries to keep the citizens safe and healthy? . Citizens respect the government and try to obey the laws and help out in building a safer community (ofc this is more complicated stuff, but to point out . Even if the government is corrupt until you can move out , you have to obey the laws)

-GOD provides us with basically everything , loves us and sacrificed Christ for us to give us the comfort of eternal life with him?. We love and respect him and try to keep his commandments(which are there to either show respect for him, or to protect us) and rebuild a real relationship with him

(So far the only one that's kept the 'I love you so don't have fear and submit to me', is God , cuz Gods love never changes or will change unlike people )

So basically what I'm trying to explain is,

All humans are equal, we were just appointed different roles.

AND

God doesn't have favourites

Everybody is equal in the eyes of God , doesn't matter if you're a male , a female, a master , a slave, a king , a peasant, physically stronger , more intelligent, richer, more charismatic, talented , famous , maybe more knowledgeable , maybe you have more wisdom than someone else , ect.

You are still human, just like they are.

So you're not better or worse than someone else when it comes to choices, or in general rights.

You've got the same rights as others , It's just what you plan on doing with those rights thats important

Exp. If you choose to deny GOD, you end up in a place where GOD doesn't dwell in aka. Hell

If you choose to have faith in Christ and build a relationship with GOD, You go to a place where GOD dwells in aka. Heaven

Doesn't matter who you are, you have the same choice and the same outcome , even if the world says otherwise

You want help from Christ Jesus so you can get bailed out of jail?(hell) , well he'll help you out, and then you'll probably try not to end up in jail again, but either way even if you do Christ will help bail you out again if you want

You don't want help from Christ cuz you believe he won't be able to help you or you just straight up don't want his help for bail , or maybe you expect help from someone else (fake gods or even satan for some odd reason) only to end up realising that person never was able to help you and end up going to jail(hell)? , well than you get the consequences and rightful justice of all your choices and actions.

There's more but I feel like it'll be too long after 😬, btw I used the Bible app for all the references incase anyone wants to go and check out something themselves!❤️

May God bless y'all 🙏❤️ buh bye

[randomlyritchie]

#RitchieWrites: Episode 2 - Is God Playing Alanis Morissette???

Sooo, in my last installment of this series, I talked about how hard it is for me to write a book without being rich. I’m gonna stop you right now from telling me that money doesn’t equal this & that. Being rich may not internally change me…but it would make my life a lot easier (in some ways). Being rich would buy me time that I have to scrounge for now. As much as I love writing, it honestly sucks that I have to work all day, AND THEN be disciplined enough to write. Nevertheless, this is what I’m doing. You may ask me why this is. I just can’t get writing out of my soul. It won’t go away. It won’t leave me alone. Plus, I genuinely do just love writing, it’s just having the time & BRAIN POWER to do it is difficult.

Okay, I’m gonna stop complaining, I guess it’s not super appealing. 😂😂😂 I’m also nothing if not real, so there’s that. I feel like instead of “life begins at 40”, I’m saying: “well…that wasn’t on my bingo card, but I guess I’ll roll with it.” When I started out 2023, my goal was to sit at Starbucks & write in my journal. That was it, that was all. That February (we were only 2 months into the year), I got a text about a writing festival. I went to said festival in the dead of winter (if that’s not some kind of dedication…). I met a man who was doing one of the workshops. I talked to him after, asked him if he did anything else like that, and have now been doing his workshop for over a year (look at that consistency).

The workshop is once a month, but we are now expanding to have more sessions. I was actually very excited for this because going to the workshop helps keep me motivated to write. It also challenges me because the guy who runs it doesn’t let you forget that you need to be writing. :) I probably wouldn’t have started my short story collection without the workshop. At the end of last year when asked if I had been writing, I felt sick to my stomach when I had to say no. In December, we had an author talk to us, she gave us a prompt somewhere within the session. I promised myself that I would finish that prompt, and that it how I officially started my short story collection (the working title is actually the first story that inspired the collection - which is not the prompt I’m speaking of).

Anyway…do you see how I just go on & on??? How am I even writing a SHORT story collection being so long winded? In our first spinoff session of the workshop, we started learning how to submit to literary journals. Now, I’m gonna tell you, submitting to a literary journal was not anywhere on my bingo card…EVER. I am not even well versed in them. Paris Review? I’d never heard of it. I know some of them, but I kind of always just looked at them like magazines (don’t judge me). Nevertheless, a new goal has been unlocked. People have asked me several times about freelancing. I tried looking into it at one point in my life, but it seemed hard & a little confusing to get into. This is actually something that I feel will fit me better because I don’t really like writing articles. I’d rather just write stories…I also wouldn’t mind essays. So, that’s something else that I want to work towards in addition to working on my books. We were given a sample submission letter. This weekend, I actually got 2 new short story ideas. They don’t fit into my short story collection, so I want to try to see if one can fit into a journal. The other one…I don’t know what I want to do with it yet. I know that actually getting into a journal is not easy. I am really gonna have to up my writing game. 🥵 There are rejection letters in this process like there is with books. I just see it as another avenue to put my words out in the world. 🌎 I just think it’s so funny that I started this out saying that I just wanted to write in my journal, & now I’m actually going down the path of trying to put my stuff in literary journals. :) It’s like, is this the part of my life where God plays “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette.

I saw a friend at work with this tote not too long ago. She said she would give me one. I knew we were gonna talk about submitting to journals at the workshop when she offered it…but I’m still like…is this a sign??? I don’t know that I would get into The New Yorker (not ruling it out), but just a sign of literary journals in general.

xoxo,

Autumn 💃🏾🍁✨

[gvftea]

“i genuinely hope everyone running / actively submitting to this account knows that stuff you say / post online DOES affect people and their mental health. last time i checked this fandom was supposed to be about peace and love and yall make me question why i even associate myself with this fan base anymore. think before you post. you never know what’s happening in peoples likes that they don’t share on social media. i genuinely hope you guys know that all this online drama ruins the fandom for people and this stuff is the reason why people are ashamed to call themselves fans of greta van fleet.”

At the risk of sounding like a broken record: YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY. You know what this blog is. If it affects you that deeply then stop coming here. It’s that simple. If your alleged “friends” are running to you every time your name comes up here or anywhere else, tell them to stop. If they don’t then they might not be your friends. There are people, situations, and stressors in our lives that we cannot step away from. This blog is not one of them. Look up from your phone, what you see around you is the real world. Engage with that instead of strangers on the Internet. Or if you don’t have any support systems in your life, then seek out online spaces that enrich you instead of ones that drag you down. There’s now a GVF positivity blog. Go spend your time there. You are the one that curates your own online experience, what you see is what you actively sought out, so stop trying to dictate others actions instead of being in control of your own. Also, the Peace and Love bullshit is a narrative that the band adopted during an album cycle. It never applied to any part of this fandom and to think otherwise shows that you are probably too naïve to participate in this online space.

In conclusion, I’m going to repost what I wrote the last time someone whined about how this blog could affect the mental health of strangers on the Internet:

I’m gonna go ahead and say something bold here… your thoughts and actions are your own responsibility. If you are incapable of interacting with this blog without having the urge to hurt yourself then stop coming here. It’s no one’s responsibility to create a safe space and attempting to dictate others behavior is absurd. If you feel that you are so fragile that the anonymous shit posted here is enough to bring you to the edge then you need to step away and figure out strategies to navigate that. Stop putting the onus on strangers to coddle and protect you and take responsibility for yourself.

[lionrowrs]

I haven’t used this account in 8 years.

Here’s a quick overview of what has happened:

I went to college as a biology student in an accelerated program that goes straight to med school. In retrospect, biology as a major is NOT a real premed course. It deals with botany and zoology more than human medicine. Bad choice for premed imho. It’s hard. Some subjects I think are even harder than the ones in med school. Not all my friends could make the cutoffs. Ngl it’s hell but it’s hella rewarding to make it through.

I went to med school. Each year is a different kind of difficult.

1st year is the “adjustment phase” kind of difficult. If you were already trained in courses prior, I don’t think you’re gonna have a problem adjusting. I sailed through the first year pretty okay, adjusting wasn’t too difficult.

Second year was shifted into “heavy load phase” kind of difficulty. Thats where heavier forms of memorization and keen understanding between what was normal and abnormal. That’s the year that most student fail to pass.

Third year is “heavy load + paperwork”, it’s relatively easier and harder at the same time. It feels more time consuming in all honesty and I missed most classes to to all the paperwork we were required to submit. It’s also the last year we could take part of intra level competitions involving theatre productions, pageants, bands, and sports. It was the late end of the school year that lockdown hit. We were all somewhat exempted from all the rest of our exams due to the need for lax measures in the sudden shift into online learning.

Fourth year, supposedly, was our “hospital duties phase”, but COVID was a thing so we could only get an online version of it. It all happened so fast and there’s nothing memorable about being an online student…except for the obvious impostor syndrome and general dread and loneliness of the times.

My love life has bloomed. My boyfriend of 4 years and I having going through life together with struggles kind of like a long distance/lockdown relationship through the most of it I think. We don’t live together. We call every other day and spending time watching netflix party things or mobile legends.

Internship year, post graduate hospital duties. I was so sick of my own incompetence in all honesty that I needed a way out of the perpetual lockdown, pullout from the hospital, and this insufferable government. I chose to move away from the areas with the most COVID positive cases. I monitored the more strictly protected areas with public hospital trainings. I ended up matching with a regional hospital in my province. It was great. I loved it there. I’m considering residency there too.

We had to undergo our licensure exam after that. I’ll be honest, I didn’t study very hard after internship. I was trying to go on a diet this time, too (unlike most people handling the exam). I cannot study at night because my brain probably can’t get through it with an empty stomach. So I was going through intermittent fasting. I wake up for brunch, study with snacks and drinks and eat an early dinner of 4pm. The thing about this is that it gave me a daily deadline of 6pm as a motivation. Everything I have to go through for the day has to be done by 6pm, no exceptions. The limitation kind of felt healthy for me. I was very calm and relaxed all throughout. If I can’t study the material, I read my bible and contemplate and pray. The last 2 weeks I had were spent were probably the most relaxed I’ve been. Our pre exam evaluations gave me the most anxiety because they determined that I was at the low 20% of all exam takers. I was crying while taking the actual licensure exams. TL;DR - I passed despite all the odds against me. I am now an unregistered licensed physician.

I’ve been trying to figure out what I want and where I want to go from here. Residency? Maybe. Right now, I want money. I have been a total freeloader until now and it doesn’t sit right with me. I want income. I want a job.

[spectorcomplex]

—WE NEED MUSIC! e.munson x reader

you’re more madonna, blondie, and bowie and eddie munson has to find common ground to save your life

pairing: eddie munsox x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) 

warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood, cuts, wounds, drowning. 

word count: 3.7k

my masterlist

Nancy Wheeler has it all. The beauty, brains, and ferocity. But unbeknownst to the majority of Hawkins, what she lacked was a friend. You two have shared classes before, exchanged kind smiles in the halls, and even engaged in small talk whenever the opportunity presented itself. But the two of you never truly got to know each other— until Senior Year. 

The summer air still lingered as it slowly intertwined itself with the fall cold when you saw the announcement on the classroom bulletin board. It was the first day of your senior year and you were already having post-graduation anxieties. Should you have participated more? To prepare yourself for college interactions? Or to be more knowledgeable and worldly—

“Miss Y/L/N.” The teacher’s stern voice broke you out of your stupor. You quickly hung your head as a weak form of an apology but your eyes discretely lingered on the paper pinned to the board. 

Shortly after that, you pushed all inhibitions aside, dug out the converse shoebox containing wrinkled papers, and submitted a small compilation of the short stories you’ve written over the past few years to The Weekly Streak. 

You had gotten more than you bargained for. The editor-in-chief of the school newspaper, Nancy Wheeler herself, excused you from Calculus class to gush about how the news staff loved your writings. The Weekly Streak was only looking for contributors but Nancy convinced them to give you a full-time spot.

If you want it, of course.

Of course, I want it, Nancy. If it means getting pulled out of Calculus more then yeah. 

She laughed, you laughed, and the rest was history. 

—+—

You really wished your history going forth with Nancy consisted more of laughing and gossiping while painting your nails and not getting your skin ripped apart by interdimensional-tentacle-vampire hybrid bats.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” You groaned as more of the creatures tried to tear into your flesh. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, angel eyes!” 

If Eddie Munson wasn’t helping you to survive by smacking an oar around you would’ve wrung his neck at the nickname. You seriously regret wearing that ABBA shirt when the group dropped off food for him at that cabin by Lover’s Lake. 

The screeches stopped and all that was left was an eerie static in the air and Steve Harrington softly crying out in pain. 

Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d end up in an alternate dimension of your hometown with probably the most random combination of people. “The Freak” and “The King” and you three girls. 

It was scary how quickly you were accepting that this entire predicament you found yourself in was real. Nancy never held back when opening up to you, her relationship with Steve, with Jonathan, her brother, the misogynist pricks at The Hawkins Post and she definitely did not sugarcoat all the crazy events surrounding Will Byers’ disappearance. All she avoided was talking about Barbara but you respect her boundaries. 

It’s okay if you think I’m crazy. I’d think the same if we switched roles. 

Honestly, Nance, it sounds like the plot of those science fiction movies and you’d kill it as a scriptwriter. 

Well, you better start thinking about writing drafts about all that’s happened in the past week and what’s about to happen and submit them to a Hollywood producer. 

“C’mon, chiquitita, we need to find cover,” Eddie addressed you again. You glared at him but followed nonetheless. 

You didn’t even notice that you were mindlessly walking around a few seconds ago until Robin grabbed your forearm. 

“For both our sakes,” She chuckled. You also nearly fell into the lake that day you wore the ABBA shirt.

It wasn’t long until your group stopped again. You froze at the thought of more “demobats”, or whatever you heard Steve call it, coming your way but thankfully it was just Steve coming to a halt due to his injuries. 

Nancy immediately came to his aid and you watched in curiosity. Their glances towards each other lately were not as discreet as they think and you would’ve easily jumped in to nag Steve’s ear off to protect your best friend if he wasn’t being nice. It was odd. You were never in his line of fire when he was still in school but you saw from a distance how much an asshole King Steve was. But during this entire ‘adventure’ he was actually decent and your rudeness would be unwarranted. You saw the genuine fear in his eyes when Max Mayfield’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she started lifting off from the ground. Sure you were scared too because she’s only a child, she doesn’t deserve this but you could tell that the look in Steve’s eyes was fear coming from a place of losing a loved one. 

Steve was grunting in pain as Nancy wrapped the scrap fabric around his torso and it was only then did the sting of the bites from earlier settle in your nerves. Someone was saying something about guns but the blood pumping in your ears overpowered their voices. 

“Fuck,” You said as you eyed the red gashes. “Am I gonna have rabies?!”

“What?”  “That’s what I was saying!”

The sight of blood never did anything good for you. It always creeped you out and made you woozy. It didn’t matter if it was your own or from someone else’s wound, oh, but it was definitely way worse if it was your own. You felt like throwing up at the sight. And you were trying to keep the tears of pain at bay but it was as if all the hurt from the bats only registered now. It was probably a coping mechanism; you hated blood and everything about it and that’s why you only looked now. 

“Woah, hey,” Was that Robin or Eddie? “Y/N? Are you okay?”

Oh, it’s Munson. You could tell from the long strands of hair softly tickling your cheek. 

“She hates blood. Like really hates blood,” Nancy said in panic.

“And there’s lots of it,” Robin let out in a breath.

That seemed to alert you subconsciously and your breathing picked up until you were sure you were gasping. You’re overreacting. Steve has it much worse and he’s still standing. 

You tried to right yourself by shaking your head. Snap out of it! Then you felt a fabric, almost like a handkerchief, running over your bare arms— you hated that you ditched your denim jacket at the Wheelers— and the sight of ring-clad hands wiping away the red liquid confused you enough to distract you from the pain. 

“There you go.. okay now, Y/L/N?” You oddly felt deflated at the lack of a nickname. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry for being such a little bitch,” You chuckled but your voice was devoid of humor. 

“You helped me by grabbing those things with your bare hands,” Steve suddenly spoke, his hands mimicking your actions. “That’s badass.”

You huffed out a thanks with a truer chuckle this time. This whole dynamic was weird but everyone’s presence was the only comfort you had right now and you would not let it slip from your fingers. 

“Let’s get moving then,” You suggested. “I heard something about Nancy’s guns?”

Said gun owner gave you a watery smile. She gently pulled you in, careful to avoid your cuts, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” You sighed. “I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

Your group got to trekking the ghastly landscape towards the upside down Wheeler house. What a mouthful. It was exhausting watching every step because of the apparent vine mechanism but your adrenaline still hasn’t run out and you hoped it would last until you got out of this literal hellhole. 

The dust particles and never ending midnight sky sent shivers down your spine. You sent a quiet prayer for all of you to make it out alive. 

“Hey,” It was Munson again. You nearly tripped backwards when he appeared next to you. 

It felt nice that he was talking to you. You’ve had English with him twice and you would be lying if you said the metalhead didn’t intrigue you. He intimidated you, sure, but there were layers to that. He was an enigma. The most interaction you had with Eddie was that group project for midterms and finals. You were probably giving yourself too much credit but you felt as if you had gotten past the first layer of his facade during that time. To everybody else, it was a teenage boy not caring for his studies, but to your keen eye it was obvious that Eddie Munson was purposefully orchestrating that appearance to the world. He submitted works two weeks late but when you got a peek, his poetry blew you away. As if it was some lyricist’s magnum opus. But you knew he had more to offer in the future and he was only going to get better from there. The piece was so good that even if it was submitted way past the deadline, the poem still got a B. 

“Hey,” You greeted back. When he didn’t reply for a minute, you followed up with a “How are you holding up?”

He looked taken aback. It was quite adorable really. You were used to his scowl and exaggerated faces to tease someone. You couldn’t find a better description for right now than puppy dog eyes.

“You’re asking me that? You, who got beaten up by bats?” Eddie asked, bewildered. 

“I mean, you’re dealing with a police investigation, a Salem witch hunt– you’re the witch by the way, and the actual supernatural all at once and you probably haven’t had a proper meal in a week,” You frowned. “And I wasn’t beat up.”

“Well, since you put it that way, it is pretty fucked up. But I’d rather deal with this Vecna jerk than the new chief of police.” He smiled this time, directly at you and it felt like a metaphorical light in this literal dark. 

“I actually kinda miss Hopper,” You shrugged. You hugged your arms to your chest. The feeling of the dried blood bothered you. “Chrissy would have already gotten her justice by now.”

It was silent after that when Eddie had no reply to your words. You feared that you said the wrong thing and your heart sinked even further. More anxiety wasn’t needed in this life or death situation. 

“Do you-” He started, Your head whipped towards his direction so fast that you felt your cheeks warm at your eagerness. “Do you think he’d accuse me? Hopper, I mean.”

This time you didn’t break eye contact. “No. He wouldn’t even name you a suspect so quickly like they did. They’re so prejudiced it’s insane.”

“Prejudice, heh,” 

“What’s funny?” You asked, eyeing his sly grin. It was a look of trouble. 

“Nothing, just,” Eddie ran a hand along his chin. This time you eyed the chunky, intricate silver rings. “I remember we were grouped for a class and you scolded poor Logan Clarke when he asked too many questions while you were trying to read your copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

You had no recollection of that memory but you couldn’t help but flash him a curious smile, “You remember that?”

“Is that weird?” He asked, suddenly looking self-conscious. When you shook your head no, his grin made a return. 

Robin was now suddenly yelling directions and you all quickly followed. The sooner the better. You had a family to come home to. And after getting out of the upside down you had to save them. You had to.

The grimey distorted version of the Wheeler house came into view and all of you stopped to catch your breath. All that was needed was to safely get into Nancy’s room and grab her weapon. The notion of having something to protect you in the upside down gave you relief. 

The other three made their way up the stairs quickly but a gentle hand on yours stopped you in your tracks. 

“Here.”

You were dumbstruck. Eddie Munson was offering you his leather jacket. You didn’t know him that well but you think you know his sentiment over the piece of clothing he was handing to you. 

You started to shake your head to refuse but he shook his head back and went around your frame to help you slip your arms into the sleeves without hurting yourself. You caught a glimpse of his pale forearms, the only marks littering it were artsy tattoos. You didn’t know why you felt relieved when he didn’t have the same teeth marks and blood on him. 

He stepped away when the jacket was finally on. It smelled of dark mahogany, real leather, and something so uniquely Eddie. One part of your brain was telling you to return it but it was warm and comforting that your tense shoulders finally had a moment to sag and relax. 

“Take it, dancing queen. You’re practically shivering.”

—+—

So close. You were so close. 

You had practically burst into tears of joy when Nancy returned to normal. You jumped back into the other side without hesitation when you heard Steve calling out to her. You felt like sinking into the floor when you saw her rolled back eyes. You were straight up sobbing and you were surprised you pulled enough strength to hold her unconscious body next to Steve. 

“Nancy!” You shook her harshly. If that was what needed to be done to wake her up while the others looked for cassette tapes then you’d shake her til your arms fell off. “Nancy, no, no, no, please. Please. No.”

Flashes of past memories came and go through your mind and you didn’t pay it attention when the present sight of your best friend at the verge of being killed is as terrifying. 

She came back with a gasp. You didn’t have time to ponder how she did come back without the physcological effects of music but you were thankful. You told her to get back to the other side, the normal side, as you watched her along with Steve. 

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you go first. You were not the most athletic so climbing up the makeshift rope was a bit of a struggle. Nancy didn’t let her exhaustion take over, not until she helped you by grabbing your hand. She was still clutching your hand by the time Steve came back and you didn’t know why suddenly the grip was almost bone crushing. 

“You’re so happy aren’t you? That everyone’s back?” Nancy said. Her voice was clear of the raspiness it had earlier. Too clear. Almost artificial, as if something was mimicking her. 

“Yes, I’m so-“ You mentally prepared yourself for it but it still caught you off guard. 

One half of Nancy’s face looked as if it was melting like candle wax. You weren’t stupid. You knew it was your turn. 

“Nancy, I—“ You started. It was probably pointless that you called her Nancy since obviously this person in front of you isn’t your best friend anymore. 

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets, Y/N.” Her ‘voice’ was pitching lower and lower that it was now scary, horror like. She sauntered towards you and kept getting closer without stopping that you fell back. Her face was so distorted to the point she looked like a corpse and you cried at the sight. 

You felt sand. Sand everywhere. But the menacing red sky surrounding you didn’t fit the scenery of a beach. A sob slipped past your lips. No no no. You cannot relive this all again. The heartbreak of everything would actually manage to kill you before this Vecna creature did. 

“Please, stop,” Such a juvenile act, covering your ears with the palm of your hands. “Please, let me go.”

Then you heard it. A chime of a clock. A booming sound that vibrated in your chest and you knew this is what haunted Max.

“Why would I do that, Y/N.” The voice was completely different now. No trace of Nancy in its echo. Your name was hissed like a taunt. 

“Just like you let me go?” The shout was so loud it forced your eyes open. And you screamed. 

—+—

“Fuck! Y/N, wake up!” 

The sight of your skin, once full of life, was now turning grayer by the minute. No sight was scarier than your eyes lacking its vibrant color as a milky white took its place. The leather jacket covering your frame looked more vibrant than your ghostly appearance. 

Everybody’s hands were shaking. Nancy’s as she helplessly shook your body. Max’s and Robin’s as they went over the piles of cassette tapes that were most likely not going to have your favorite bands. Dustin and Lucas’ as they each set up a boom box and a cassette player with headphones just to be safe. But all these precautions were going to be in vain if they didn’t find a song that will pull you out of this godforsaken curse. 

“No, no, hey, hey!” Steve desperately clutched onto your wrists as he saw the first sign of your feet lifting off the ground. 

—+— 

“I didn’t mean to,” You shook your head. The tears were overflowing now. “I’m sorry, you know I’m sorry. I regret it every single day of my life.” 

“Do you now?” The face of your cousin was as distorted as Nancy’s. But this felt a lot more eerie as the last time you saw it was when—

You screamed in utter fear as the face and body morphed again but this time it wasn’t into another person. A monster. With vein like lines crawling all over their giant body and surprisingly human eyes. They were cold and hateful. 

You tried to get up and crawl away, feeling the black sand scratch at your wounds, opening them up again. You cried in pain. Worse when you were pulled by your feet and dragged backwards. The pain was unlike anything you’ve felt before and you hoped that if it was your time to go, this horrendous monster would have the mercy of making it a quick departure. 

—+—

“Fuck, fuck,” 

Dustin looked over, surprised at his friend, the mighty Eddie Munson, having tears well up by his eyes.

“I-I know she likes ABBA–shit! I don’t have anything like that, fuck. Fuck!” Eddie was carelessly tearing through his collection. Most of these cost a good amount of money but right now he couldn’t even think about anything like that when saving you was his top priority. 

This had already happened once in his home and he was not about to let it happen again. 

“Anything close! Like a soft rock or something that sounds like pop! Anything—anything!” Nancy was sobbing now. She couldn’t let another best friend of hers be taken away from her. 

Suddenly, a tape with a black cover and gold lining was in Eddie’s grasp. This is the closest he can get away from his heavy metal. 

He raised it to Nancy so she can look but she was teary eyed and trying to grasp onto your legs. Eddie showed it to the person closest next to him, Robin, who nodded.

“I think she listens to them. It’s worth a try.” Robin’s deep voice was raspier than usual as fear consumed her eyes that were looking over at you. 

Eddie gave a mumbled sorry to the Sinclair siblings as he practically shoved them out of the way to place the tape into the boom box and pressed play. The sound was surely going to draw attention from the neighbors but it was just a famous song playing so all they could hope for was that there will probably be no danger. 

—+—

“You left her there to drown, Y/N,” You swear you heard Vecna tsk. The creepy, sluggish vines slithered towards you and were tightly wrapping around your limbs. 

This was the end. 

But just the beginning. Of a song. Of hope. Of a familiar song you would scream to when you had the chance to be home alone. 

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me

“You are going to die today, Y/N, you are going to drown. Just like your beloved cousin did.”

You shut your eyes. It was an accident. You were a child. You have not fully forgiven yourself but what is important you were in the process of it. 

It hurts. Every single day you feel the pull of guilt and you may never be without it, but you were living in the way you can still love your family. This isn’t your time. Not in the hands of a monster named after a silly game character.

Too late, my time has come,

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time

The vines were pressing into the minor cuts on your legs. Your hands were still free and you caught a glimpse of the leather adorning your arms. You were not going to go without seeing the boy who owns this jacket. 

So you took your chance, rattled Vecna like how Steve demonstrated you did with the bats, and fled for your fucking life. Your knees were killing you, the cuts all over your body were determined to slow you down, but not even this beast could defeat Freddie Mercury.

You didn’t look back. Only let the sound of Queen consume you with hope as you saw the image of your friends hold onto your body. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. 

And when the operatic section hits, you felt connected with yourself once more before falling into carpeted ground. 

You vaguely heard a female voice saying they were going to get a glass of water. Something small and cold pressed against the side of your neck and you just knew. 

“You had Queen?” You teased with a broken voice. 

You heard a collective sigh of relief and never felt happier. A hand gently smoothed over your tangled hair. 

“Yeah, thank god, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done with myself. I better start calling you Killer Queen now, eh?”

That nickname doesn’t sound so bad. 

my first stranger things fic :> please reblog if you enjoyed it <3