#I have no idea where this story is going to go

[theliteraryarchitect]

5 Reasons NOT to Use Multiple Point of View (and What to Do Instead)

I've been meaning to make this post for a long time. As a developmental editor, I see a LOT of manuscripts that use multiple point of view (where each scene or chapter is from the perspective of a different character), when they really should be using a classic single character POV. Over the years, I've come to the conclusion that writers see multiple POV as a solution to problems that really shouldn't be solved that way. Basically, they're using it for the wrong reasons. And when that happens, instead of making the story more awesome, multiple POV can actually weaken it.

Here are five of the most common reasons writers choose multiple POV (and why those reasons might be a problem). Don’t worry—I’ll also share what to do instead.

1. You Don’t Know What Your Story Is About

Sometimes, when writers aren’t 100% clear on their story’s main conflict, theme, or plot, they reach for multiple POV. It feels like a fix—after all, why focus on one perspective when you can try out a little of this and a little of that?

Here’s the thing: multiple POV actually requires you to be more clear about your story, not less. Readers will naturally look for a thread that ties all the perspectives together, and if that thread isn’t there, the story will feel scattered or aimless.

What to Do Instead: Take a step back. If you’re feeling unsure about what your story is really about, try some journaling or outlining. Ask yourself:

What’s the main conflict?

Who’s the central character?

Why am I telling this story?

Often, writers discover they actually have one protagonist, and a limited third or first-person perspective would work better. If you still feel like multiple POV is the right call, go for it! Just be sure to periodically revisit your outline to make sure the story hasn’t “gotten away” from you. (Multiple POV has a sneaky way of doing that.)

2. You Haven’t Developed Your Characters

Multiple POV doesn’t work unless each character is fully developed. Every POV character needs their own voice, journey, and reason for being in the story. If they can’t stand on their own, readers will notice.

What to Do Instead: Before assigning a POV, ask yourself:

Is this character compelling enough to hold the reader’s attention?

Do they add something essential to the story that no one else can?

If the answer is no, it might be better to stick with a single POV. Sometimes less is more.

3. You Can’t Decide on a POV Character

This one is common, especially in early drafts. You’re still figuring out your story, and it’s hard to choose whose perspective should take center stage.

What to Do Instead: Experiment! Write key scenes from different characters’ perspectives. Often, the strongest voice will make itself known as you go. And remember: just because you write a draft with multiple POV doesn’t mean you can’t narrow it down later.

4. You Need to Share Information Your POV Character Doesn’t Have

Ah, the classic "But how do I show this thing the protagonist doesn’t know?" dilemma. This is probably the most common reason I see writers reach for multiple POV. It’s tempting to throw in a chapter or two from another character’s perspective just to share that extra bit of information.

The problem? Those chapters often feel disconnected from the rest of the story. Every POV character needs to carry their weight, and dropping in a random narrator just for convenience can leave readers feeling unsatisfied.

What to Do Instead: There are other ways to get information across. Here are a few ideas:

Educated Guesses: Let your main character speculate. (“Iris kept tapping her pencil on the desk. Was she nervous about the meeting earlier?”)

Show, Don’t Tell: Use actions, dialogue, or other clues to reveal what another character might be thinking.

Bring in a New Element: Introduce a third character, a conflict, or even an object that reveals something important.

Overhearing or Spying: Yes, it’s a little cliché, but when used sparingly, it can work in a pinch.

5. You’re Looking for an Easy Way Out

Let’s be honest: multiple POV can feel like a catch-all solution to tough storytelling problems. Need to fix pacing? Add another POV! Can’t figure out how to make the ending work? Add another POV!

But here’s the truth: multiple POV is actually harder than other POVs. You’re not just developing one character—you’re developing several, and you have to tie all their perspectives into a cohesive whole.

What to Do Instead: Focus on nailing the story with a single POV first. Once you’re confident the core of the story is solid, you can decide if adding other perspectives will truly enhance it.

In Summary

Multiple POV is a powerful tool, but it’s not a shortcut. It requires careful planning and strong execution. If you’re considering it, ask yourself:

Does every POV character bring something unique to the story?

Am I clear on the main conflict and theme?

Could this story be told just as well (or better) with a single POV?

Sometimes, the simplest route is the best one.

Hope this helps!

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[sunseed-fandump]

The Tarot from the new trailer has me FLIPPING OUT (Sorry for the shitty screenshot) I was already making an analysis on the previous cards we got, but THIS has really got me doing backflips in my head because of the implications.

Let me explain.

First off, have you noticed that one of these cards is not like the others?

The first card, Strawberry Cookie, is in reverse. She is on the major arcana card XII - The Hanged Man. When the Hanged Man is in Reverse, it represents Delays, resistance, stalling, indecision, stagnation.

"The upright Hanged Man encourages you to pause for a moment and see things from a different perspective. Reversed, this card can show that you know you need to hit the pause button, but you are resisting it. Instead, you fill your days with tasks and projects, keeping busy and distracting yourself from the actual issue that needs your attention. Your spirit and body are asking you to slow down, but your mind keeps racing. Stop and rest before it’s too late. The Universe will only dial up the volume if you ignore it, and as a result, you may end up crashing. So, as soon as you hear the call, clear your schedule and make the space so you can tune in and listen."

Next we move on to Gingerbrave's card: 0 - The Fool.

In the Upright Position, the Fool represents new beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit, and adventure.

"To see the The Fool generally means a beginning of a new journey, one where you will be filled with optimism and freedom from the usual constraints in life. When we meet him, he approaches each day as an adventure, in an almost childish way. He believes that anything can happen in life and there are many opportunities that are lying out there, in the world, waiting to be explored and developed. He leads a simple life, having no worries, and does not seem troubled by the fact that he cannot tell what he will encounter ahead."

Finally we have Wizard Cookie's card: I - The Magician.

In the Upright position, the Magician symbolizes logic, desire, resourcefulness, willpower, intelligence, skill, and manifestation.

"When you get the Magician in your reading, it might mean that it's time to tap into your full potential without hesitation. As a master manifestor, The Magician brings you the tools, resources and energy you need to make your dreams come true. Now is the perfect time to move forward on an idea that you recently conceived. The seed of potential has sprouted, and you are being called to take action and bring your intention to fruition. The skills, knowledge and capabilities you have gathered along your life path have led you to where you are now, and whether or not you know it, you are ready to turn your ideas into reality."

So what do these 3 cards mean together? Well, we have someone who is stagnating, who is stuck and unable to move forward. But they go through a rebirth - an epiphany - and start on the path of a new journey. And on that new path they unlock their full potential.

This is Pure Vanilla Cookie's story in the next update in a nutshell!

Sorry for the sorta long post, i just wanted to geek out about this since I love love love it when Tarot is used as a narrative device :)

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well and have a nice day, you deserve it with all the amazing stories you have written. I love the way you write villain characters so much. Can I request a story between a villain x sidekick/ someone who works on their side? Your wrote the conflict feelings when the hero falls for the villain so well, I’m curious to see how you explore a relationship where the villain falls for someone who he doesn’t have to hide/ compromise his ideas for? No pressure tho!

"Have you considered," the villain said, "chasing after someone who isn't your boss?"

"Is that a request or order for me to stop?"

The villain considered their sidekick for a moment, at that. They were a bright young thing, as sidekicks so often were. Beautiful and powerful and eager to sink their teeth in the world and leave all the bloody marks of a legacy. Passion-sparkling. Not yet tired. Their fury still a forest fire.

The villain should have said yes. Stop. It was the only smart thing. The only reasonable thing. Bright young things should be with other bright young things, and if they were chasing something else it was probably a trap.

At their silence, their sidekick smiled. Quick and pleased and more confident than the villain ever remembered being at that age. They took a step closer in the villain's study, stepping in between the villain's legs, looming.

"I think you like being chased, boss," their sidekick said.

The villain raised an eyebrow, glad their face betrayed nothing of their pounding heart. "I think I like escaping heroes and leaving them looking stupid."

"Deflection."

"Truth."

"Truth can be a deflection. You taught me that."

Despite themselves, the villain's lips twitched in a smile. "Did I."

"Do you want a truth?"

"I think you're better at lying."

"True," the sidekick said shamelessly. "I think you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

The villain swallowed. They willed their face not to flush. By the way their sidekick's eyes lit up, they suspected they failed. Their sidekick leaned in, they pressed the advantage, just as the villain had bloody taught them. Their hands settled on the arms of the villain's chair, as if the villain was someone who could be bracketed in and caged.

"I think," the sidekick said, "that you go for what you want. So it's curious that you deny yourself me. Normally I'd be flattered to be an exception, but in this case..."

"You think I want you?"

"I have eyes. Tell me you don't. Make it convincing."

"Now who's giving who orders?"

The sidekick's smile turned to a grin. Feral. The villain wanted to bite it, kiss it, claim it. It was delightful. They wet their lips and there was a giddy thrill to the way the sidekick's eyes followed the movement.

Of course, the sidekick, and most of the world, always followed the villain's every movement. Just in case.

"Obviously," the villain said, "I want you. That doesn't make kissing my mentee, my employee, a good idea. I have - power over you."

"Oh, do you? Does a person like you have power? Gosh. I hadn't noticed."

"Brat."

"Boss." The sidekick's hands inched closer, dragging tantalising up the villain's thighs.

The villain should have shoved them away, but once again they held damningly still. Once again, the sidekick rewarded them with that smile.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," the villain said.

"I would love for you to take advantage of me, so is it really taking advantage? I'm not a child. I know my own mind. You're the one taught me I should go after what you want."

"Did I."

"Uhuh." The sidekick pouted at them, eyes glinting with mischief. "No takesie-backsies just because you never imagined I'd want you."

The villain's breath hitched.

Why do you want me was an absurd question to ask? The villain knew all the reasons that people chased them. Power, connection, the things the villain could give. To stop them, to own them, to ruin them.

Their sidekick's eyes spoke nothing of those things. Their mouth, when it finally descended on the villain's, promised only sweetness. Only desire. Only things that the villain had never thought they'd be able to have again, because it was lonely at the top for a reason.

"I considered chasing after someone else, sure," the sidekick whispered, "but you're the one I want. So let's not make a good thing more complicated then it has to be, yeah?"

It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. A reckless idea, of the sort that the villain hadn't allowed themselves to indulge in a long time.

And, yet, the villain grabbed a fistful for the sidekick's hair and reeled them in to kiss them. Again, and again, and again.

Their sidekick was right, after all.

The villain always got what they wanted in the end.

[thedeadtalker]

-my grandfather was 8 when he and his family were rounded up on the Oregon coast, kept in a livestock pen for 3 very rainy days, then put into a cattle car to be carried out to the reservations in the east.

-my grandmother had two brothers and sister who were sent to mission school and never returned. They said they ran away. They lied.

-My mom remembers when Indians got enough citizenship to vote in Oregon. She describes her parents and their friends discussing if the should do it -vote -or if it was trick to register them.

-My friend took his grandmother out for her 100th birthday. He asked her what she thought were the most important things to happen during her lifetime. She told him: free wifi and the legal end of segregation.

-I remember those fucking nuns in mission school. I only went 1 year when the laws changed and we could go to other schools. We could live with our parents and ride a bus to school and back again and sleep that night in our own home. I remember that, you fuckers.

-I remember that my mom and two of her sisters gave birth in a hospital connected to the mission, and they didnt know for years that they'd gotten botched steralizations against their wishes and without their knowledge. I remember my parents desperatly trying to have more children. Theyd always wanted a bunch of kids. The house my dad built had many empty guestrooms. Eventually they sold it. I remember my mom having to have a hysterectomy 2 years ago because of all the health problems caused by the fucked up surgery. I remember sitting in a meeting and one of the nurses there having to put me through a fainting protocol because i got a text from my stepfather that during the hysterectomy they discovered one of mom's damned ovaries was just fucking gone. I wonder sometimes if some sick fuck retired doctor kept a genuine Indian ovary in a jar in his office. I wonder if his nazi kids and grandkids pull it out to show to guests as a conversation point. I think about how whites were paid piecework for Indian scalps amd seeing one dried out and leathery in an antique store in a small town in Idaho. There is evil in the Americas. The nazis were here long before they were ever in Europe.

- I remember my highschool history teacher showing us the number tattooed on his wrist. I remember him showing us all these recordings of ordinary German citizens talking about how they didn't see anything wrong happening. How there must have been some sort of perfecrly mundane reason for the endless smoke pouring from the ovens in the camp up in the hill. How it was all just politics. How they were reassured that all the people who were taken had just moved in the night, or were much happier wherever they'd gone to. "But you saw them all: the Jews, the other prisoners going into the camp. But you never saw them leave. Didn't you think that was odd?" "We just figured they'd moved from the camp in the night while we were sleeping." "Where?" "What do you mean?" "Where did you all think they went -in the middle of the night?" "Oh. We didn't know." "Didn't you wonder?" "Why would we?"

- I remember that same teacher explaining how the nazis had gotten a lot of their ideas from the US government's Native American policy. The death camps were modelled after our reservations. The dehumanizing and the stories of savages/gremlins that ate white babies and were less than human were based on the clever marketing campaign set up to not just enable the settler take over, but used to unite the fragmented people of newly forming colonial nation. He fucking showed us. There is publically available documentation of all of this.

-I remember getting put on the no fly list. I remember finding out about it because when we tried to buy tickets for the whole family to travel down to New Mexico for my granduncle's funeral the whole purchase was bounced. We were told why that might be the case so we tried seperate purchases for everyone. Me. It was me. Several years later my roommate's family friend -an old white guy with some pull, found out why. I was teaching K-3 and moonlighting as a computer programmer back then. And I'd printed some photos of holidays around the world to share with my students on the same computer I wrote code from. My own computer, in my own office, in my own home. He said it also didn't help that I wasn't white.

-I remember that fucker's first time in office: I remember seeing my coworker snatched from the elevator by ice agents and shoved into an unmarked van. He was a 3rd generation American.

-I remember having to warn the non-white, non-abled, non anything a nazi would want to gas you for residents of the dvsat shelter we worked with to not go out at night, not go out alone, not walk on these specific streets or go into these specific shops. I remember the time a native Hawaiian chick on my caseload didn't come back when expected and everyone was out of their mind with worry. She came back, tear-streaked and shaking, and told us about how she'd gotten lost (not in Hawaii any more, Dorothy) and ended up in one of the neighborhoods she was supposed to avoid, and being chased by some of the proud boys that patrolled our city streets in their ridiculous be-flagged pickups, and how some nearby restuarant diners had rushed her into the restuarant, and the staff there had hid her in the pantry, and all the diners lied and said they hadn't seen her. My teacher read Anne Frank to us in 6th grade. Do they still read that in schools?

-I think about that time I went into a DMV and the woman behind the counter told me to "sit over there," next to two men, and well away from the other patrons. Then a highway patrol officer came over and told us to go with him. In the parking lot he explained that he'd been called to take us to an immigration detention center. But instead he directed us to a "safe" DMV 40 miles away and walked away muttering about having had it up to here with those idiots in there. The two American Samoan men started laughing. Honestly, I didn't feel like laughing. I didn't feel like anything. I was thinking about the mission school and wondering if the detention center looked like it had.

-I've spent the last couple of weeks handing out flyers in different languages. I don't use an interpreter. I have no way of knowing if I can trust them. But somehow I manage to convey to the people I visit in field hand huts and steamy laundries that they are in a sanctuary state and what that means. That no one in our offices will turn them away or turn them in. At least I hope Im conveying that. Then I tell them, using paper language dictionaries if needed (librarians are superheros) how to get away, who to talk to, how to find the big dipper. I think a lot of my high school history teacher and those faded numbers on his wrist.

Oh I know they're coming for me first. Im your canary.

[ablobwhowrites]

I have been hooked on your poppy playtime new home sweet home posts and I love them, they are great!! and I was thinking, maybe one where y/n repairs some toys in very bad condition? Like when you mentioned Miss Delight's face! Only if you want and can of course. <3

(also sorry if this is not very well written, English is not my first language and I am using Google translator)

(glad you liked them and plus it helps me kinda try and write my next fic and hopefully I'm cooking with it)

Y/n has repaired the toys and even had to learn how to stitch because most are fabric but bougie bot, miss delight, doey and mommy long legs are kinda hard to repair, so y/n has to look up how to repair the certain material needed for each toy. Miss delight is a bit more patient with being repaired as this goes for mommy and doey but boogie bot, bunzo, huggy, yarnaby are kinda impatient as they move around a lot and don’t really like sitting on one play and bubba is a kinda like smartass when y/n tries to do stitching to repair his arm and he’s like “you shouldn’t use that stitch, use this one instead” and y/n is like half way done with it when he says that but y/n just finishes it and moves on.

Plus I do imagine y/n going to their grandma to ask if she could make some blankets for the toys as they don't have a lot of spare blankets. Especially when crafty corn, hoppy hopscotch took most of the blankets to make their fort. Y/n's grandma agrees and makes huge blankets like ones that doey could basically be laying down and there would still be a lot of blanket left over kinda huge and of course the smiling critters get one and hoppy uses it for the pillow fort and yarnaby as well.

Y/n's bed does not belong to y/n anymore cause everytime they get home, yarnaby is sleeping on it and take up all the bed and even when there's some there's very little because like yarnaby is fucking huge. But the blanket is bigger than him somehow.

And sometimes the toys have nightmares about killing y/n. Like in when they were in playtime co and how violent they were to y/n and basically almost killing them in brutal ways. Like the dream goes as this, they chase y/n and when getting their hands on y/n killing but the bloodlust settles as they look at the corpse of y/n and realizing what they did try to fix it. Or think it's a prank but it continues until the you jolts awake seeing the room they are in and see y/n alive. All it was a nightmare, they are safe here. Except for Sawyer, he has dreams of being a regular human so yeah. But poor doey was scared that the nightmare was real and poor guy needed a hug after cause he feels guilty even though it was just a dream.

(Anyways that's it for me yapping. If you guys like this and want more please don't feel shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's, but for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Billie x guitarist reader where Billie and reader are friends but there is obvious tension between them. Reader loves to post guitar thirst traps on her socials and Billie is seen by fans in the readers comment section flirting. There is some chatter and fans are starting to notice when Billie is out with her friend group, they see reader and Billie kind of all over each other. Can take place at one of billies shows, billies guitarist is sick so asks reader to fill in (even though reader is just there to help in the background) reader agrees and Billie gets reader to play next to her in one of her songs (you can pick which one baby) and they interact in a cute flirty way in the show.After the show they have a moment can be fluff or smut up to you. They get spotted kissing later at an after party (set at an LA show) Billie posts a pic on her ig story kissing reader (like the Odessa pic) then deletes it and just refuses to talk about it. But people definitely think something is going on because they see that Maggie, Finn and Claudia follow reader on ig.

I’ll leave it up to you to fill in the inbetween but it’s just a thought I’ve had in my head 🤭

an: OK FIRST OFF DAMN I LOVE THE IDEAS IN YOUR HEAD AND SECOND HERE YA GO

Strings of Fate

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

The stale beer smell of the Forum backstage clung to your clothes even before you stepped foot into the madness. You loved the organized chaos, the pre-show jitters, the energy crackling in the air like static electricity. Tonight felt different, though. Beyond the familiar hum, there was a nervous thrum in your gut.

You were usually just here to help out. Lugging equipment, fetching water, making sure Billie's notoriously picky team had everything they needed. But tonight, Billie’s guitarist, Justin, was down with a nasty flu. And Billie, in a moment of sheer desperation, had practically begged you to fill in.

“Please, you’re the only one I trust!” she'd pleaded, her eyes wide and genuinely worried. “You know all the songs, you’re a damn good guitarist, and… and you just get it.”

You hadn’t played a show this big in years. You’d been content with your Instagram guitar thirst traps, short snippets of riffs and soulful solos that garnered a surprising amount of attention. Especially from a certain Billie Eilish, who had a habit of leaving flirty little comments like, “Damn, those fingers do more than just play guitar, huh?” or “Can I borrow that guitar? For… reasons.”

Those comments were half the reason you agreed.

Now, standing backstage, tuning Justin's guitar, you could feel Billie’s eyes on you. You glanced up, catching her leaning against a road case, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Nervous?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

You chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady. “A little. Haven’t played in front of this many people since… well, ever.”

“Relax,” she said, pushing herself off the case and walking towards you. “You’re gonna crush it. I know you will.” She stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could smell her signature vanilla perfume. “Besides,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “I’ll be there to hold your hand… metaphorically, of course.”

The night flew by in a blur of flashing lights, screaming fans, and the adrenaline-fueled roar of the music. Your fingers moved instinctively, years of practice kicking in as you navigated the familiar tunes. But the real highlight was “The 30th.”

Billie walked over to you mid-song, a mischievous grin on her face. "Alright, superstar, show 'em what you got.” She nodded towards the sea of faces, her eyes sparkling.

The spotlight hit you and you launched into the guitar solo, a bluesy lament that echoed the song’s bittersweet melody. You poured every ounce of feeling into it, lost in the moment, your fingers dancing across the fretboard. When you finished, the crowd erupted, and Billie grabbed your hand, holding it aloft as she sang the final verse, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that sent shivers down your spine.

After the show, backstage was a whirlwind of congratulations and high-fives. You found yourself pushed up against a wall, Billie’s body pressed close to yours.

“You were incredible,” she breathed, her voice a low rumble. “Seriously, that solo… wow.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

The air crackled between you. You could feel her gaze burning into you, and you knew, without a doubt, that she felt it too.

“Can I… can I steal you away from all this for a second?” she murmured, her hand finding your waist.

You didn’t even have time to answer before she was leading you out of the chaos and into a quiet storage room. The only light came from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

She turned to face you, her expression serious for a moment. Then, she reached up and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she whispered, and before you could say anything, she leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first, hesitant, a tentative exploration. But then she deepened the kiss, her lips molding against yours, her hand tightening on your waist. It was everything you’d imagined, and more. It was a kiss that tasted of longing and unspoken desires, a kiss that promised so much more.

Later that night, at the after-party, surrounded by flashing lights and pulsating music, the tension between you and Billie was palpable. You kept finding yourselves drawn to each other, whispers and stolen glances exchanged across the crowded room.

Then, it happened. Someone snapped a picture. You and Billie, locked in a passionate kiss against a graffiti-covered wall.

The next morning, your phone was blowing up. The picture was everywhere. Billie had posted it on her Instagram story – a grainy, blurry shot, but undeniably you two – and then, just as quickly, deleted it.

The internet exploded. Theories ran rampant. Were you dating? Was it just a one-time thing? (absolutely not)

Billie, true to form, remained silent. She didn’t address the picture, didn’t deny or confirm anything.

But then, you noticed something. Maggie, Billie’s mom, had started following you on Instagram. So had Finneas, her brother, and Claudia, his girlfriend.

It was a small thing, a seemingly insignificant detail, but it spoke volumes. It said, "We see you. We know what’s going on. And we approve.”

You still hadn't talked to Billie about it. Not really. You’d exchanged a few texts, mostly just emojis. But you knew. You both did. Something had shifted. The kiss had opened a door, and neither of you seemed inclined to close it.

You scrolled through your Instagram feed, stopping at a new post from Billie. It was a candid shot of her laughing, her eyes crinkled at the corners. The caption was simple: "Life is weird. (and sometimes, really, really good.)"

You knew she was talking about you. And you felt a slow smile spread across your face. Life was weird. But you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot weirder. And you couldn't wait to see what happened next.

[captainclickycat]

Whoops turns out I have Further Thoughts on this.

So, here's the thing. We could argue a lot about whether or not characters in horror films make stupid decisions and how it depends on the individual film and what have you all day long. And I'm sure we could come up with a few examples on either side of the argument.

But I think there's a broader point here which is that when people say "what if there was a horror movie that featured a convenient and straightforward way for the characters to get out of trouble without making any sacrifices along the way, so they did that and were fine, the end", and especially when they present this as some kind of refreshing new take on the genre...

Well, aside from the fact that this would make for a very boring and disappointing story for anyone who actually wanted to watch a horror film, it has the same energy as those people who are presented with moral dilemmas as a thought exercise and get fixated on "what if there was a way to stop the trolley and save all six people" "what if you could replace the Omelas kid with a robot" and so on. It's a copout, and it really does come off more like they're balking at the idea that suffering is sometimes unavoidable, that sometimes there are no easy answers and any decision you make comes at a cost.

It reminds me of this other post that was going round a decade or so ago, where the title was something like "horror movies for our generation" and the gist of the whole thing was essentially "if millennials were in a horror movie scenario we'd be able to fix everything and save ourselves straight away because we're so smart and progressive and have the best resources!" (Which to add a bit of extra context was clearly pushing back against a lot of the "millennials are stupid children who don't know how to do anything" think piece discourse that was floating around at the time) and a lot of people in the notes (possibly even including me, at the time) going "omg I need this!! I'd watch the shit out of this!!" which, when you think about it, is really weird when you acknowledge that the scenarios being described were essentially just "what if something that claimed to be a horror story actually just had no plot."

The idea of a horror story where the characters make sensible, realistic, understandable decisions is potentially a great premise (and again, there are plenty of existing horror stories that already meet that criteria.) Crucially, though, that can't be enough to get them out of trouble, at least not instantaneously.

If you could avoid getting lost in the scary woods just by using your trusty functioning gps tracker, there would be no story. So in an actual horror story, the gps wouldn't work, or it would be hijacked by some sinister entity and end up landing the characters right back where they started, or lead them further into danger. The characters happen to have the exact right combination of personalities and skillsets to instantly defeat the monster and go home? Well, first of all that's just dumb luck, and second of all that can't work right away either. There would be a different monster that they can't defeat so easily, or they simply don't have enough information or opportunity for most of the story to be able to actually use their collective skills against it. You managed to evade the killer and get out of the creepy log cabin unharmed? Congratulations. Your best friend is still in there, though, and they might be injured. Are you comfortable leaving them behind and hoping they can fend for themself while you get away? What if it's your child? Sometimes the "stupid" decision is the one you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't make.

I'm going to give the "cozy romance" person props because at least they're honest about the fact that they don't actually want a horror story, and at least the story they're proposing would actually have a plot, just not a horror one. I can see where their thought process was going; there is something cool about the idea of a secret secondary plot going on in the background that the protagonist managed to narrowly avoid, that we can put the pieces together about if we pay close enough attention. (It's not the best example, there are undoubtedly better ones, but it reminds me a bit of Shaun of the Dead where we get these hints that there's a doppelgänger squad running around in the background, and it seems like just a one-off joke until one of them shows up at the end with the military in tow.)

But the thing about that example and a lot of the other ones is that there's eventually a payoff. Ultimately it does affect the protagonists in some way, even if it's sometimes a subtle way. And there's something sort of weird, and just a little jarring, about the idea of reading a story where you're sort of vaguely aware that horrible things are happening to some poor bastard in the background, and your only takeaway from that is supposed to be "oh well, sucks to be them. Let's continue to enjoy watching these Sensible people kiss! Yay!" Apart from maybe being a cool sort of easter egg, what exactly is the point of this subplot, besides imparting the profoundly unsatisfying message of "you can easily avoid danger and have a wonderful life if you're just smart and sensible enough!" when that's so often and so tragically untrue in real life.

And that's why I feel like this would be a much better premise if the horror eventually caught up with the protagonist. Because sorry folks, but escaping the genre unscathed is too easy and too unsatisfying. It has to at least be a challenge, or there's no story worth reading.

You can't just replace the Omelas kid with a robot.

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[kirkwallguy]

okay final post. i think part of the reason why i hated taash's story so much is i DID find it relatable, they remind me a lot of myself at sixteen: coming out as a teenager and being extra sensitive to anyone who doesn't immediately understand you and lashing out at your well-meaning but uninformed parents is pretty common. shathann dying before this is resolved and taash realising they were needlessly cruel out of fear of rejection COULD have been heartbreaking and an actual good way of pushing the regret theme, but this isn't what happens lol. taash acting the way they do could be fine, i like it when a character has flaws and an exploration of how messy coming out as trans is would be an interesting subversion of how fucking boring coming out stories become when you reach a certain age, but the fact that rook can't really tell them to cut it out and the fact that they have literally no reflection or regret beyond "i wish my mum and i had had more time together but at least she didn't misgender me as she died 👍🏻" makes it feel as though the writers actually think them treating their mum the way they do is somehow satisfying or good, because the game's narratives feel like they were spat out of an ai trained solely on reddit aita posts. and that isn't even getting into the multicultural angle which needs a whole essay by itself and i've already annoyed myself too much for one morning.

[apomaro-mellow]

The Road to You 2

Part 1

As far as Doug, Jeff, and Gareth knew, Eddie was simply running from the police and Jason’s mob. The less they knew about monsters he had faced, the better. They visited him in the hospital once they had heard where he was. All three were surprised to see that Steve Harrington was in the room. They were even more surprised to find that this was a regular thing from Eddie’s uncle. Then they learned from Dustin that apparently Steve had been with Eddie during all of this. 

It made a solid rock of guilt settle in their stomachs. Jeff was the only one who had said anything outright to Eddie about it though.

“I wish you hadn’t been alone”, Jeff had said.

“I wasn’t alone”, Eddie replied. “I had a whole party with me.”

Jeff scoffed. “I love Dustin, but the rest of them? Especially Steve?”

“Steve was…”, Eddie chuckled. “He was the MVP, man.”

“Not the way Henderson says it. If you let him tell the story, you saved the whole world.”

Eddie smiled. “Let’s call it a team effort.”

It was an odd new status quo to get used to. But there wasn’t much to do about it but getting used to it. Anytime they wanted to visit Eddie, Steve seemed to be there. Eventually, someone had to say something about it. And that someone was Gareth. 

“So can we talk about how weird this is?”, Gareth said, in between snacking on chips.

“Look, I get it”, Eddie said. “But if you knew him like I knew him…” He shook his head and smiled. “Harrington’s actually kind of a dork. He’s not…” Eddie was about to say Steve wasn’t like he was in high school, but that wasn’t true. Eddie didn’t truly know Steve back then. It took the end of the world for him to see him as he was. “He’s not what I thought he was. He’s cool. Case in point, he got me this tape recorder”, Eddie gestured to it, sitting on the floor.

“What for?”, Gareth asked.

“Song ideas. One great thing about near death experiences - inspiration”, Eddie grinned. He had felt inspired since he’d awakened. But one of the not-so-great things about near death experiences was losing control over your body, even if it wasn’t permanent. Eddie had been unable to write down his ideas. He couldn’t even doodle. Dustin was the one to bring up recording his voice. But it was Steve that bought it for him.

“Can’t believe you got me this. Wait. Am I dying? Do I only have three months? Oh say it isn’t so, Steve!”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t make me regret it”, Steve rolled his eyes.

Now whenever the feeling struck Eddie, he could record them, whether it was lyrics or a hummed melody. He was slowly regaining his fine motor skills, so it would happen someday. But for now, this helped.

-----------------------

Mike, Will, and Dustin started clearing their stuff, packing it away. Eddie blinked, then he looked at the clock and just barely held back a sigh. Visiting hours were just about up.

“You nerds got any plans tonight?”, he asked conversationally. 

“Yeah, we’re having a movie night at Mike’s”, Will said.

Eddie knew who was included when they said ‘we’. Their whole crew usually turned up to these things. And that included Steve. Eddie found himself almost wishing he could go. What was Steve like when he watched movies? It was odd but he wanted to know. He got the next best thing though - talking about it with him the next day.

“Of course, Dustin thinks he could totally beat the Thing”, Steve said, legs crossed, magazine over his lap.

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Didn’t he raise one of those monsters in his turtle tank?”

“Exactly! Everyone else had to remind him too.”

“Do you think you could figure it out?”, Eddie asked.

“I guessed who it was and was right every time. I’m pretty much an expert on the Thing”, Steve said.

“It’s pretty crazy how it got MacReady so early.”

“....What are you talking about? MacReady wasn’t a Thing.”

---------------------

Doug heard shouting from Eddie’s room and it didn’t raise any alarms until he realized it was Steve Harrington’s voice he was hearing. He picked up the pace and thrust the door open, only to see Steve pacing around Eddie’s bed, gesturing wildly.

“It was Childs! It was goddamn Childs!”

“It got MacReady when he was leaving that message!”, Eddie shouted, arms moving stiffly but still conveying his frustration.

But Doug knew when Eddie was arguing, versus when he was debating. Eddie argued when he felt he was in the right and someone was trying to tell him he was wrong. His temper would rise, his voice would start cracking, and he looked almost mean enough to scare small children. But sometimes Eddie liked to argue for the fun of it. Debating. He’d still get loud, but there was no irritation in his voice. And he smiled. Like he was doing at Steve right now.

Steve looked frustrated but wasn’t backing down. If Doug didn’t know any better, he’d say that Harrington was enjoying himself too. 

----------------------

Eddie wasn’t better, but he was well enough to be discharged at last. Solid foods were no longer off limits. He could stand for short periods of time. And his mobility had improved. And there was also the fact that he’d been cleared of all charges. Eddie had grown sick of that room in all this time. The same plain ceilings, floors, and walls. But now that he was being pushed towards the exit in a wheelchair, he felt nervous.

Wayne put a hand on his shoulder. He knew his uncle could sense his apprehension. If it were anyone else, Eddie would hate how they were able to see right through him. But he knew Wayne would never use it against him.

“Ready to go back out into the world?”

Eddie took a deep breath before nodding. Wayne brought him outside. And there was Steve. Leaning against his uncle’s car. Suddenly the outside world didn’t seem as scary. Eddie tried tamping that feeling down but it won out and bubbled up when Steve saw them and smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So uh, your uncle asked me to come and take your chair in my car. Said his didn’t have enough room and with your van totaled…”

“Harrington’s moving service, you’ve really diversified.”

“Shut up”, Steve smiled.

Steve took the chair and put it in his car once Eddie was situated in Wayne’s. They took off then, but Eddie was confused to see them pull up to Steve’s house and not the little place Wayne had gotten for his troubles. But Eddie figured it out when he saw a small face (possibly Erica’s) in the corner of a window. She disappeared, presumably to tell the others that they had arrived. It was the best surprise-not-surprise party ever thrown for him. 

The party lasted hours and at times Eddie felt overwhelmed. He didn’t think there were enough people in his life that cared this much. And he certainly never thought police chief Hopper would ever attend a party in his honor. It reminded him that he still had to learn about his part in all of this. Eddie had learned bits and pieces here and there, but it was hard to really string the story together like that. He’d save that for later though. Right now, he could use some air. He asked Wayne to wheel him outside and he sat by the pool. He lit up and was able to get a few drags in before Steve came out to join him.

“Here to lecture me at Buckley’s behest?”, Eddie teased.

“No, I’m here to bum one off you”, Steve said. He pulled up a lawn chair right next to him. Eddie handed a cigarette to Steve, then his lighter. Eddie averted his eyes, pretending to be interested in the treeline. For some reason, watching Steve felt like too much right now.

“God what I would do for some weed”, Steve breathed out.

“You and me both”, Eddie said, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “But Rick’s still in jail. And my stash went through the Earth’s crust.”

“Shit, don’t remind me. I could use the weed for that too.”

“...The memories?”, Eddie ventured to ask.

Steve lied back on the chair, eyes to the sky. “Don’t you wish you could forget? Even just a while?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course I do. Shit the nightmares I get…” Eddie’s hand went to his side. Sometimes he still felt the teeth in him. There were nights where he swore there was a hole that went through his stomach. He’d wake up in a sweat, afraid to touch and find that his hands went all the way through. “Does it ever get easier?”

“I don’t know”, Steve answered honestly. “Never gone that long without the next crisis.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel. There seemed to be this finality with things but also everyone still seemed on edge. Like it was the end but…was it? Even Eddie felt like that was too good to be true. But the thought of having to deal with this all over again before a full year had even passed… Eddie didn’t want this to happen again in ten years, let alone ten months.

“What if it’s really over?”

Steve blew smoke out of his mouth before replying. “I don’t know.”

Eddie let that hang in the air. Because he didn’t know either. Every single plan, idea, and dream he had back in March seemed like nothing now. 

“Your agenda’s open then. Good”, Eddie nodded.

“Good?”, Steve raised a brow.

“Yeah. It means you can be my manservant now that I’m discharged. It’s gonna be a lot of work, but I think you’re up to it.”

“I don’t come cheap, Munson.”

“Rick’s not my only plug”, Eddie winked.

“Deal.”

Part 3 coming soon

[scam-alerts]

🔎Scam Exam(ination)🔍(updated x/x/xx)

Seen as: Selling HRT / Testosterone Scam Type: Fake Product / Fraud

Platform: Tumblr

-----

This scam mostly targets LGBTQ+ individuals, mainly Trans folk who post in such related tags.

Those who do may receive a DM, comment, ask, or any such related contact from another tumblr user who claims to be a certified™ Doctor, Therapist, Pharmacist, ect, who is trying to offer you a 'new and amazing' drug that's not on the market, or a 'cheap alternative medicine' to name brand HRT or Testosterone.

One such account that popped up recently of this is drfelixortega.

Here is what their tumblr page looks like:

And this is the ask that they are sending users:

(Screenshot taken from this post.)

If you visit their page, you will only find six posts.

All very generic in nature.

None of which link to any sort of certification or credentials that prove that this person is a 'real' doctor. They just say they are a totally real (no fake) Doctor and expect people to go with it.

Like most scammers usually to do.

Here's another version of where another HRT scammer leaves comments on peoples posts:

-----

Why this is a scam:

1 - The risk.

Purchasing any sort of drug online from a shady dealer is not only a good way to get scammed, it's a good way to get sick and possibly even die. You have no idea what sort of ingredients are in the pills these supposed Doctors online are trying to sell you.

There was a story that surfaced on my local news station that talked about how in South Korea, capsules were seized that contained the contents of herbs and a mixture of human flesh/DNA.

When tested, the human material was found to belong to infants.

If you wish to read more, you can find the 2015 article here. But be warned, it is very graphic. (No pictures)

2 - The scam.

I know that getting HRT or even Testosterone can be hard, and I know how the struggle and the desire to truly be yourself can become overwhelming. Your insurance may not pay for it, or you might not even have insurance to begin with, leaving without hope at all in your journey to begin transitioning.

But that still doesn't mean you should believe every offer that seems too good to be true the moment you're offered it online.

Think about these things for a second:

Why would a doctor, surgeon, pharmacist, what have you, be on Tumblr of all places? Why would they browse the trans tag, or other such related tags, to find potential 'clients?' Don't you usually have to make an appointment with a doctor? For your insurance to then pay for to cover your medicine? How can a board certified pharmacist.. be a gender assessment surgeon at the same time? (it's a lie, that's why.)

3 - The truth.

The truth of the matter is, you cannot, unfortunately, get HRT or Testosterone without a Prescription.

And buying it online from any sort of 3rd party website or manufacturer is simply putting not only your wallet at risk, but your life at risk.

Here is a screenshot taken from this GoodRX article:

Here is an article on the risks and dangers of buying unregulated / unlicensed HRT. One big one being that they can be contaminated.

And a final, general consensus from google:

-----

Final Thoughts:

As I've said in a few of my past scam Exam(inations), if something seems too good to be true, it most likely is. I know how life changing something can be and how desperate wanting it can make you, but please don't risk your wallet, or your life, for it.

Remember: These are just words these people offer you.

Ask for proof. If they send you any kind of images, remember, you can reverse image search them to try and find the source. If you get pushy in asking for their credentials they'll probably end up blocking you and just want you to 'trust them' or send you clearly edited photoshops.

Never give them your personal information or credit card information.

And never go to a strange website you don't know or have never heard of without googling it first.

You can also run it through something like VirusTotal to check if any of the big/main websites like Bitdefender or Kaspersky that detect things like phishing, viruses/trojans/maware, and all that fun stuff, have picked up on it being malicious.

Just... Be safe.

Please make sure you think before you talk to people like this.

Take care everyone. <3

----

Disclaimer: Tags are relevant to the content of this post. This is not 'tag spam' or 'unrelated'. I'm just spreading awareness about this scam targeting people taking hormone drugs like HRT which also includes people other than just trans folk. :)

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Okay, I greatly appreciate the discussion here about the need for interdisciplinary work in academia, and the need to reach outside of academia and talk to specialists when looking at the uses of tools, but somehow people always have to turn this into a "gotcha!" where the stuffy academics get shown up (even though this very thread shows some archeologists reaching out to craftspeople to ask about how tools are used because they recognize the need for that knowledge and expertise).

"A hairdresser comes a long, looks at a few and is like, “Yeah, they’re sewn.”

“Don’t be silly!” the archaeologists cry. “How foolish, sewn hair indeed! LOL!”

So she went away and recreated them on real people using a needle and thread and the mystery of Roman hairstyles was solved."

Did they? Did they really? The archeologists all laughed at the plucky hairdresser and then she proved her theory by simply recreating the styles?

See, what actually happened is that Janet Stephens (the hairdresser/hair archeologist in this post), who published an article about her theory in The Journal of Roman Archeology in 2008, spent about 6 years of research pursuing her idea that perhaps Roman hairstyles were sewn hair and not wigs. She did both hands-on experimentation sewing the actual hair, and more traditional research reading through a ton of sources. This is coming from an interview done with Stephens herself:

"Lots and lots of reading, poring over exhibition catalogs, back searching the footnotes to the reading and reading some more! It helped that I am fluent in Italian and, in 2006, I took a German for reading class. Working in my spare time, the research took 6 years."

"I am an independent researcher, but my husband is a professor of Italian at the Johns Hopkins University, so I have library privileges there. We are friendly with colleagues in the Classics/Archaeology department and at the Walters Art Museum. They were kind enough to send me articles and clippings, read drafts and help with some picky Latin, though I try not to impose."

(Source: http://www.thehistoryblog.com/archives/14729)

Wow, so people in the Classics/Archeology department and at the art museum sent her articles and clippings and HELPED her with her research as opposed to laughing at her in their gentleman's club! It's almost like people working the archeology/art history these days aren't all stuffy old white guys from the 1950's!

Stephens also presented her work at the Archeological Institute of America Conference, and according to the interview I cited above, it was apparently well received: "It seemed to create a a lot of buzz and people said they enjoyed it. It’s not every conference where you go to the poster session and see “heads on pikestaffs”!"

Like, there's plenty to be said about the ivory tower and the need for interdisciplinary work, and the racism/sexism etc. that newer researchers are working against, but framing this story as "hairdresser totally shows up the archeologists with her common sense!" is needlessly shitting on the academics involved here (and the humanities in general have been struggling to maintain funding at many universities in the US, they don't need to be further attacked), as well as greatly over-simplifying and downplaying Janet Stephens' achievement. I think it's more respectful to acknowledge the six years of work that she put into the project than to tell the story like she just sewed some hair and then all the archeologists' monocles popped out.

Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them. 

Until, of course, they showed it to a traditional leatherworker and she took one look at it and said “Oh yeah sure that’s a leather burnisher, you use it to close the pores of leather and work oil into the hide to make it waterproof. Mine looks just the same.” 

“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”

“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”

It’s just. 

50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job. 

[solaquintette]

A Feminist Reading of Junko Touhou

The following is a slightly reworked thread I posted to the Everything App last year, using Euripides' Medea as a device to explore how Junko Touhou (from Touhou) subverts our expectations of stories of women seeking revenge.

One of the reasons I adore Junko and why her story features so heavily in my art is because of how she subverts the typical portrayal of female rage and revenge in literature and media. I often see her as Euripides' Medea-if-she-was-fucking-awesome. Traditionally, 'female rage' is depicted as something rooted in romantic betrayal, often directed at a man who has been unfaithful, with his mistress also falling victim to the scorned woman's wrath. While feeling anger over infidelity is obviously valid, literature often acts as though this is the most intense pain a woman can feel, as though it is the only justifiable reason for her to unleash her rage and seek revenge. Even when it comes to the loss of a child, stories frequently assign the role of avenger to the father, while the mother is left to express her grief in a quiet, restrained manner, expected to endure rather than act.

Junko completely rejects that mold. While her grudge is initially directed at Hou Yi, a man, it has nothing to do with romance, infidelity, or rejection (at least in Touhou canon; her mythological origins vary). She isn't heartbroken over love; she is a mother whose child was taken from her, and she is out for revenge, pure and simple. And once Hou Yi is out of the picture, her rage turns to Chang'e, not because of a petty rivalry, not because of beauty, not because of a man, but because she needs to avenge her son at any cost. There is no underlying romantic narrative, no love triangle, no traditional "woman scorned" trope. Her rage is unfiltered and all-consuming.

What makes Junko's depiction even more striking is that her grief and rage are not presented in a way that is easy to digest. They are not subtle, delicate, or aesthetically pleasing. They are messy, relentless, and brutal. Even her danmaku lacks beauty. It reflects the rawness of her pain, an expression of fury that refuses to be softened or romanticised. Junko does not conform to the palatable, almost sanitised versions of female vengeance often depicted in media, where anger is neatly packaged into clever manipulation or quiet suffering. Instead, she embodies something far more visceral and real.

There is something deeply relatable about Junko’s need for revenge, particularly for anyone who has ever experienced loss or injustice. Her rage seems directionless to those who haven't felt that kind of grief. After all, Chang’e didn’t personally kill her son. And yet, if you’ve ever suffered a wrong so profound that the thought of seeing the perpetrator go unpunished feels unbearable, Junko’s quest makes perfect sense. Justice is not always attainable, and the idea of having to simply accept that reality is its own kind of hell. Junko exhausted every possible avenue for vengeance, and ultimately, her pursuit is futile. The one person who remains as a final target for her rage cannot even be killed. And even if she could kill Chang’e, it would never bring her son back. Her story is a bleak but brutally honest portrayal of grief: there is no true resolution, no catharsis, just the endless, aching persistence of loss.

Her identity is almost entirely consumed by this loss. The idea of grief shaping or even erasing identity is something worth exploring on its own, but in Junko’s case, it is clear that she has stripped herself down to nothing but vengeance. In many ancient cultures, particularly in antiquity, a woman’s identity was intrinsically tied to her role as a mother. When Junko lost her son, she lost not only him but also the identity that had previously defined her. And yet, instead of fading into obscurity or assuming a different role, she reconstructed herself around her grief and her fury, becoming something entirely new, something purely vengeful, purely wrathful.

This is where the connection to Medea feels so strong. One of the reasons Medea is often regarded as a ‘feminist’ work is that she does not meet the expected tragic end for a woman who enacts revenge. She does not get sent to hell, does not beg for forgiveness, she isn't put back in her place by her husband. Instead, she ascends, outwitting Jason and becoming something greater in the process. In much the same way, Junko’s rage does not destroy her. It transforms her. Her purification and ascension into a divine spirit mirror Medea’s ascension. Her wrath does not lead to her downfall, it's the very thing that elevates her. That is such a subversive and powerful way to depict a woman’s quest for revenge.

Sometimes I feel guilty for always drawing Junko suffering, but there is so much depth and untapped potential in her character. Her story is so much more than finding a neat resolution to grief or a moral lesson about the perils of holding a grudge. i love you Junko touhou ❤️❤️❤️

[lexirosewrites]

For slick sunday

I am once again asking you to imagine Scream Queen O!Steve & horror fan A!Eddie,

except in this idea/AU Eddie is the co host of a horror podcast similar to Dead Meat but it's called (u guessed it) Corroded Coffin, Eddie hosts & A!Jeff co-hosts & O!Gareth mostly works with the sound while A!Chrissy & B!Felix (unnamed freak who apparently has a canon name but idc I like the name felix & using this name made me realize gender things so it has special meaning for me now) ANYWAY Chrissy & B!Felix mostly handle research

Well they talk about all horror not just movies, they discuss books & they discuss other podcasts & of course they discuss movies. Eddie & Chrissy are slasher fans through & through, Jeff is more for the supernatural stories, when Gareth comes on an episode very occasionally he's an unrepentant fan of elevated horror like The VVitch, meanwhile if felix is on an episode it's explicitly because they're talking about cosmic horror OR horror coming out of east asia (felix is a Junji Ito devotee, as am I & yes this is me projecting onto a fictional character)

WELL their podcast is fairly popular, they're considered Z-list celebrities within popular culture maybe D-list amongst horror fans, the Corroded Coffin podcast has gone on tours & done live shows. they've even established a small podcast network they call Hellfire Club & expanded to making more shows: chrissy & felix host a folklore podcast, Jeff & a new guest every week have discussions abt the new expression of horror abt being a marginalized identity (i.e. being a black person in a white supremacist society or being a beta woman/omega in an alpha centric patriarchal culture)

Then one day their business email gets an inquiry abt a new movie coming out in the next year & the executive producer wants to know if they'd be interested in a slight PR stunt/limited podcast series around this movie.

The producer in question is one Jim Hopper, a known name who's only ever produced action flicks, apparently he's dipping his toe into the horror space bc his daughter & step-son r huge fans of the genre & encouraged him to take on a script he'd normally ignore.

The movie is called Strange Times On Main Street & it follows an ensemble cast tht r meant to b the residents of a dwindling town in nowhere Indiana in the early 1980s, the horror factor comes in when the different characters start to see things tht might not b real but all seem connected to an individual who has terrorized the town for decades, culminating in a town hall meeting where they're told there's nothing tht can b done; so the situation dissolves into an eerily quiet mob tht ends up hunting down this person & the movie ends abruptly with this guy being executed in broad daylight practically in the middle of Main street.

They agree right away. The gimmick involves Eddie & Chrissy acting like the hosts of a true crime podcast who are "interviewing" the people of the town supposedly years after the incident. Everyone is excited because there r some big names involved in the movie, most notably the undisputed scream queen Steve Henderson who got half of his fame from working his way up from among stunt doubles on action movies so he's known to do his own stunts.

Well, it's a fantastic process & absolutely everyone has a wonderful time & Eddie sort of bumbles his way thru the episode w Steve (whose character is implied to have been the one to kill the supposed antagonist) but Steve finds it cute & gives Eddie his number.

The movie does well & wins not only a Screamy Award but an actual Oscar. Steve even wins the first Oscar of his career for best omega man in a leading role. He kisses his date before going up to give his speech, who's his date you ask? Eddie Munson host of popular podcast Corroded Coffin

They announce their wedding & mating a month after the awards show

horror meet cute🥰

[sanjarka]

not to be a broken record but it's not quite fair to use the line but peeta wanted them so badly as proof that katniss was forced into having kids, or of her having them for all the wrong reasons. it exists within the context of not only the epilogue but an entire story before it. and i'm not here to convince you to like it. but to try seeing the point at least.

to expand on something i've spoken about before - in the epilogue their children are playing in a meadow from a song she sang to rue, a song that she now sings to her kids, in a meadow not unlike the one she dreams about after the beach kiss (as i drift off, i try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no games, no capitol. a place like the meadow in the song i sang to rue as she died. where peeta's child could be safe)

so the tone in the epilogue can not be tragic and it is not regretful. it is hopeful.

the infamous line previously mentioned is not about katniss's lack of consent in being a mother but about the amount of trust she has in peeta as her life partner, as someone she loves. it's nothing but a connection to another line in the epilogue (where katniss is expressing her worry over teaching her kids about the games and her and peeta's role in them) → peeta says it will be okay. we have each other and the book. we can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

it is about there not being another person who could've made this decision, this choice, safe (no one has held me like this in such a long time. since my father died and i stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe)

it's about how his his hope made her wish safe (isn't it the thing i'd dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the games? and it could be true now couldn't it? if i hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until i recoil at even suggestion of marriage or a family?)

it's about how only peeta can give her that (what i need is the dandelion in the spring. the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. the promise the life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. that it can be good again. and only peeta can give me that)

the choice to be a parent is not easy and careless and it never will be. she's absolutely honest about being terrified of her kids learning about the games, of them being scared and forced to harden like her and peeta were. the pain of the past is not ignored, it is not glossed over, and the nightmares never go away. but there's something else in the epilogue too.

when i first felt her stirring inside of me, i was consumed with a terror that felt old as life itself. only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

how is this katniss being resentful and if she is why would she then have another kid? i've seen some people focus on the terror as it's this ugly thing proving her regret but is it not an entirely realistic feeling to have when carrying someone's life within you and understanding the neverending responsibility in keeping said life safe? there is such beauty in the phrase old as life itself. because it suggests the idea that this is something that isn't inherently tied to katniss's life, to her trauma and to her pain but to lifekind in general. and then the joy! how that terror is only settled when seeing your child eye to eye, seeing them breath and cry and live. it's such a gorgeous, intimate passage trying to let you in the love katniss has for her kids. it's not hiding away the sacrifice and the fear but it's also not hiding away how worth it it can be to make choices that scare you.

I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. that's when i make a list of every act of goodness i've seen someone do. it's like a game. repetitive. even a little tedious after more than twenty years. but there are much worse games to play.

how is this supposed to be so much more bitter than sweet, how is this anything but a love letter to peeta, to her kids, to everything she gained after everything she lost. why would she be so afraid of losing it all if it doesn't matter and why would she make a choice to believe in the kindness of people if the life she has now is something she has no say in and something that at best she feels indifferent towards to?

and obviously you have a right to feel whatever it is that you feel. i hate even having to say this cause who am i to give you a right to feel any type of way. i'm not trying to push my feelings onto you and tell you that this story must work for you, that it must make you feel hopeful. that if you're not satisfied you just have to read it again. stories don't work that way.

but to imply that the intention of the story is for the reader to be left hopeless is wrong. and sure, maybe that intention doesn't seem that profound you, maybe it is not interesting and maybe you think is boring. and maybe you think that katniss and peeta wouldn't realistically have this life path, or have kids, and maybe you think the end is too predictable and too expected. and that's okay. whatever life you have lived is going to affect what stories you find deep and what stories you find shallow and so maybe, this is that story for you. the story that you don't get. the story that doesn't work for you. and that's okay too. but to be so convinced that its intention is to present katniss's life as something so very miserable that she didn't choose but just let happen around her is wrong.

[jmtorres]

the idea of this society breaks my head. nothing can get finished. new building construction? why bother? you're knitting something? no you're not, you might as well be Penelope frogging your progress every night.

but also nothing can be meaningfully recorded. scientific data? the day's work is all gone and fuck you if your experiment needed longer than a day to run. in the morning there's no record of what's been going on or how long it's been the same day; is someone trying to keep count? they have to do it by memory.

there's nothing new to read. and for a while it's the most well read populace, because why do 'work', but slowly everyone has eventually read everything and the society shifts to hungrily waiting for new short stories posted online at the end of the day, anything anyone could finish by dark.

You log into work. There's a counter with digits in millions on the website. The work slack is taken up with a discussion about who's reading what and where they got it from. You ask about the second quarter analysis you were supposed to be working on. Half the chat says "not it!" and someone, who's not your direct supervisor or even in your department, DMs you to say, Take the day off. Don't worry about it. Look, your boss is talking about Red Dead Redemption in the work slack, it's fine. What would you do with a day off? Shopping, no, bad idea, don't think about what you need to get done, think about more like your bucket list. Travel, hmm, it's a bit of a free-for-all, yes if you go to the airport you can get a ticket for wherever the pilots feel like flying, they're not really charging much either, the computer system wants them to but, well, somebody figured out how to break ticketing a while back.

Bewildered you ask, why? what is going on?

It's Groundhog Day, says your coworker.

No, it's not, you say, it's September??

I can't do this part, says your coworker, I can't explain it to you, just, work doesn't matter today, do something fun.

And then they log off.

Your boss is indeed talking video games in the main channel. The alerts channel has been disabled. The company CEO just posted a skydiving video, which isn't that out of the ordinary, but in a work channel?

Experimentally, you pull up a news website. There's nothing but a large number posted. Is it--yes, it's the same large number that was on your work's front page.

You don't know what it means.

You don't feel like having fun.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[chikifumoto]

DPXDP prompt

I haven't seen many fics/ prompts where Danny inherits Dlav co, unless everyone he knows is dead or it's never mentioned.

<I'll be honest it's more of a story outline that i might never use so i decided to see what others would do with it, i would have liked it to be a dead slient ship, but it should work with any of the characters>

<So let me set the stage>

Amity Park gets dragged into the infinite realm, not when Danny is 15 but when he is 17 to 19 like just before college. Vald is completely ended by Pariah Dark or Fright Knight <it doesn't matter as long as he's dead😋> pretty early into the battle, and Danny goes on to defeat them/him in single combat and becomes king of the infinite realms the usual in these fic. After the battle and the return to Earth, someone finds Vald's body(turned back human after his death), and he's buried, leaving everything to Danny.

Danny, being who he is, is reluctant to take over the sketchy company, but with a push from his friend and Jazz, he does making Tucker his head R&D and Sam his co-ceo after buying up some stock after the public learned of Vald's death and that the company was going to his underage(17) godson leading the investor to sell there shares.

Ok, this is we're ideas I saw from other prompts come in.

For one, this does not have to be a reveal gone wrong, but I don't want it to be fine either. Their relationship is stained at best, and no contact worst. <it could be worse, just not my cup of tea.>

Hey, look!! This is where the batfam comes in for one Spirit co.(formally Dlav co.) Is a big hit as a million dollar eco-friendly company working powerful renewable energy(ecto energy)and meeting Tim at a gala hosted by the Wayne's for a fundraiser, and they hit it off and become fast friends has young Ceos and there coffee addiction, they're about the same age give or take a few months. <maybe more, I'm more partial to Danny/Cass because we need more of them>

Bruce, being the suspicious person he is, is suspicious of this company that had less than ideal origins and given the fact that there have never been a successful brake in <Yes!! Danny uses ghosts with the obsession to keep things safe> the company that set up shop in Gothem. He wants to investigate but can't get his children to help because they have gotten too close to Danny and co. <yes, including Jason>

<i have decided to give Danny(Kendrick Lemar)levels of hatred for Vald. That is to say that there is not a single cell, not a single atom in his body that does not hate that man and that is the reason that Dani/Ellie is unstable and is the reason she is certainly destabilizing, her DNA is fighting against itself and she is falling apart, this should takes place a months or a year into the relationship(trio,batfam or other DC characters...)>

<That is as far as I got with this, so good luck and have fun with this🫡>