#Sometimes I hate this job but it's for the greater good and all that shit

[the4n4juggalo]

Another day pretending to be 15 on the internet another day losing faith in humanity

Anyways, block this guy

@pri3st00 — major pedo

Bro just turned 19 and is already a predator

[thelonelyshore-if]

Okay. Dunno if it's been asked yet but. The fate of the world and MC hang in the balance. Which of the ROs would be willing to let the MC die to save the world and which would say fuck the world to save the MC? What'd be their reasoning behind their choice and how would they feel about it? Uwu

Ooooh fun question. And I haven't ever done this one!! Answers below~

Beck- I think they'd ultimately pick MC, but it would be a very, very close thing. They're kind of bitter about the world right now, but they ultimately think it's good? There's so much of it that they want to see. That being said, in their current situation, MC would be like their light in the darkness. They couldn't just let them go.

Croft- They'd save the world but they'd feel like shit about it. Though they'd try to comfort themself with the idea that it's only logical. They love MC, but they also love their parents. Honestly though it depends on where Croft is at in their journey. There are parts in the story where I could very much see Croft making a different decision.

Jay- Unfortunately it would be the world and they'd hate themself for it. But they have a family and a community that means everything to them. They couldn't just throw it all away for MC, no mater how deeply they love them. It's that whole hero complex. In the same vein, though, they'd be pretty desperate to save both, no matter how impossible.

Perri- Oh, Perri would pick MC. What has the world ever done for them, really? They don't come off as that jaded, and there's a lot of wonder and interest in the world that they crave, but stacked up against the person they love? Yeah, no way. Perri is willing to be selfish sometimes, and this would be one of those times. Though they'd feel awfully guilty.

Ravi- Also MC no questions asked lmao. Ravi Does Not Care about the greater fate of the world. Especially if we're talking a scenario where it's, like, the World Outside Easthaven vs. Easthaven. He'd be like, we're safe in here, fuck everyone else. He wouldn't even feel guilty about it. Ravi's morals are. Interesting. And he wouldn't give up the person he loves for anything.

Yasmin- She'd hate it deeply but would ultimately pick the world, for similar reasons to Jay. She loves the people in her life, her job, her community. Being a part of something greater than herself is incredibly important to her. Throwing that all away for one person, even her lover? It isn't right. But she'd be wrecked by the decision. There's a reason she doesn't want to get close to anyone again--losing another partner would destroy her.

[lmanburgseulogy]

hey i saw you going insane about the idea of lmanburg being a real county and adding realism to it inyour replies under a post. your lore book and cwikbur playing with toy soldiers and medical tenst and shit. do you mind sharing? 👀🎤🎤 no pressure

hey yes hi. thanks for the ask!!

this is mainly a collection of my fav headcannons about the war but I might reblog to expand or do different topics lol

- l’manburg had bunkers underground where they would hide out in groups. according to wilbur it was for the “element of surprise.” It was one of their best war strategies that helped them win. dream also thought there numbers were a lot smaller because of this, and got cocky. the final control room was one of the bunkers turned into a death trap by eret

- dream’s militia was around 2x greater than l’manburgs

-the war lasted around three years

-at night they had to turn off all the lights and be silent, so dream couldn’t drop tnt on them (ahem doomsday was really silly)

-Tommy hated the deathly silence at night, and Wilbur forced him to go on top of the walls if he wanted to talk to tubbo or himself. Dream couldn’t hear them from up there, but eret could.

- whenever they moved to a new battle ground, they set off a firework to begin the fight. l’manburg’s we’re blue and the smp’s were red

-l’manburg filtered their own water from the river

- dream found the source of the river and polluted it with poison potions, and it caused a giant health crisis.

- fundy led the troops who delivered potions to medical tents. (He begged Wilbur for a job, but he did pretty good at it most of the time)

-their communicators were designed by tubbo, but it was one of the first models so it cut out a lot. sometimes for weeks in a go, and it led to troops being misled a lot.

- they had to wear tall boots to avoid foot infections from the marshy land

-there’s different levels to the potions based on the severity of the injury/ attack, and they all have specific ways to be brewed.

-many people’s hair got burnt in the explosion of l’manburg, so in pogtopia everyone cut their hair to chin-length to protest for l’manburg. it was a symbol of how they suffered

And yes I have more if anyone’s curious!! Once again thanks for the ask I had a lot of fun with this!! :3

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 16: Relocation

Apparently when I said it would be a few days late, that really meant a week late. But I'm back now.

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Present Day, March 1987

Julie wakes up in the middle of the night. Heart racing just a bit, slowing as she readjusts. The memories from last night replay in her mind. It’s all she thinks about. Well, not all.

It’s stupid to even compare these two things. Stupid to have herself thrown back six months and feel the same way all over again. It was the last time she was thrown out of her home unexpectantly. Even if it doesn’t feel like it, it wasn’t that long ago. Her life was uprooted not that long ago.

When her mom died, and she had to move, it felt kind of like this. With a lot more tears, and a lot more pain. But the questions without answers, the spontaneity of it all. It was the same. Julie didn’t plan for it to happen this way. It just happened.

Things in her life just keep happening. But that’s how life works, isn’t it? Things happen, and no one can control it. And when they try to, it just fails anyway. There’s just a force greater than anyone can imagine making life shit for everyone. Breaking apart families, making them lose people they love.

Julie’s not a religious person. Never was. Her mom wasn’t either, not after getting pregnant. It was hard enough being a single mom, she didn’t need more dirty looks. Especially from ones who were supposed to love everyone no matter their sins. It didn’t feel that way most of the time.

If the force that took Julie’s mom away, kicked her out of her childhood home, then the house that just became home, was really all knowing and good, she didn’t believe it anymore. What about the death that’s happened in this town? Everywhere else? What about Steve? Was it really planned for parents to hate their son like this? Kick him out of his house with a bruise on his cheek. That he won’t tell her anything about.

She needs to know that the bruise isn’t because of her. Because he took her in. She can’t be the reason why he’s hurt. It would be too much. Too much that’s been caused because of her. He’s already moving, got a new job, suing his parents. Julie is the catalyst of it all. Even if she wasn’t the cause.

How much peace would Steve have without her here? How much of a disturbance did she really cause?

When they first met, and she was in that foster home, it was easy to take from him. Steve had so much that he was willing to give. Growing up in the life Julie could have had if the tables were turned. It was easy to take some of what she thought she deserved. But then she learned more about him, about his life there. It wasn’t so easy anymore. Julie started to feel like a burden.

Still feels like a burden. Steve has to hide parts of himself in his own home because of her, even though he’s not doing it very well. He had to move into a place that could accommodate her. Go through all this trouble just to keep her around. Act ten years older than he is.

Steve’s still young. Only three years older than her but acting so much older. Taking in so much responsibility as a twenty-year-old. That’s not normal. He should be out parting, meeting new people, making mistakes and learning from them. Instead, he’s stuck in a nine-to-five and coming home to provide for the sister he didn’t even know about six months ago.

Sometimes he acts more like a parent than he should. Julie doesn’t ask for much, she never really did. But it was easy for Steve to slowly fill the void that her mom left. Even if she didn’t realize she was doing it.

Her therapist has been working her through this. He was the first person who mentioned it, causing Julie to spiral. According to him, it was normal and not something that she had to change that much. Just had to realize that’s what was going on. And to make sure she wasn’t holding Steve to a standard that he couldn’t meet.

Steve wasn’t her mom. She knew that. But it was easy to mix the two up when he’s the one providing for her now. Julie didn’t want to ask for more than he could give. It seems like she might have already done that without even realizing it.

She gets up from the now partially deflated air mattress to head to the kitchen. Get a drink and try to calm her mind. One of the lamps is still on in the living room. Illuminating Steve and Eddie, still asleep. Tangled together.

Julie wants to respect Steve’s boundaries and not ask about it again. Or speculate it. But friends don’t fall asleep next to each other like this. Or act like Eddie did last night. Well, maybe Robin would have. It would have just felt more like a sibling relationship. Theirs’s didn’t. It had something more intimate to it. It was very obviously something more.

Steve just wasn’t ready, and she respected that. He just looked so at peace right now. Compared to the level of stress that he normally looked. Compared to last night. It was all gone right now. Started to dissipate as soon as Eddie got there.

Coming out and telling people about this isn’t easy. She knows that. Really knows it. For the past few weeks anyway. So, she knows that pushing them is a bad idea. Especially with the case and all of the uncertainties that surround their lives right now. Being hidden is sometimes better than being out. Definitely in this town.

With them though, with people they trust. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it could work. They were able to share a bed here without anyone saying anything about it. And no one will say anything if they see them sharing it like this. It’s a known secret at this point.

Part of her is telling her that it’s only a secret because of her, though. Because she caused all the uncertainties of their life. It’s probably not true, but it’s how she feels.

El stirs when Julie goes back to the room. The air mattress squeaking when she sits on it.

“Julie,” El whispers in the dark, voice groggy.

“Sorry, went to get some water.”

El nods, propping herself up on her elbow when the air mattress squeaks again when Julie tries to sit down. “Did it deflate? It does that sometimes.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“We could share my bed if you wanted to. Me and Max do it all the time, there is enough room.” El sits up, fixing the blankets.

Julie’s heartbeat picks up, she’s not sure why. It’s just El, they’re friends. Her and Mary would share a bed when they had sleepovers back in middle school. This is no different from that.

“Uh yeah, sure.”

El scoots over in the bed, making room for Julie. They lay down next to each other. El facing Julie, while Julie lies on her back. Trying not to feel El’s eyes on her. Julie forces her eyes closed and takes a deep breath, trying to feel normal about this. Because it is. This is totally normal. Why is she making this so weird?

“Can I ask you something? And you cannot be mad at me for asking it.” El asks, still whispering.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Julie really can’t explain why she’s so nervous by that question.

“Are Steve and Eddie dating?”

Julie turns her head towards El, taking a moment to realize how close they are. “They haven’t told me that they are.”

“But that does not mean they are not? They act like they are dating. Everyone keeps talking about it, it is not a secret. I think they work well together.” El stares at Julie in the dark, making her feel something but she’s not quite sure.

“Yeah, yeah I think they do too. If they are actually together. Like I said, they haven’t told me about it yet. But I do know Steve is seeing someone, just couldn’t tell me who it was. Said it was more complicated than it looked.” Julie can’t explain it, but the words keep pouring out of her mouth without her telling them to. She should have stopped speaking way before she did.

El smiles. “I like it when people from our group start dating. Max says it makes more problems, but I think it is sweet. How they found each other through all of the bad that happened.” She makes a face of realization. “Forget what I said, nothing bad happened. Just meeting each other like normal people do. In school. Yeah, we all met in school.”

“Something bad happened?”

If that’s true, a lot of things would start to make sense. Why Steve jumps every time the light flickers or there’s a loud thud. Sometimes when the thunder hits just right. Why Julie has woken up to what seems like a scream but gets told it was nothing the next morning. Why Eddie or Robin magically shows up in the mornings when they weren’t here the night before. Hovering over Steve, either with a scared look in their eye or checking to make sure he’s ok.

Some of the kids do it to. Have some scars that seem a bit too suspicious. More than just a normal injury.

The weird that has been happening in Hawkins these past four years replay in her mind. Connecting dots as fast as she can, trying to make connections. On the surface, there’s nothing there. Except for the fact that this was a peaceful town before four years ago. Each year continuing to get worse and worse. Until last spring scared out half the town’s population.

After what Julie saw that fourth of July, she knew that something was off. Witnessing people walk to their deaths, knowing that they didn’t go to the mall by choice. There was something weird with Hawkins. Maybe El knew about it too? Maybe they all knew about it?

“Well, yeah, there was an earthquake. And the mall fire before that. Bad things happened.” El turns her head, looking at the ceiling.

“I knew about that, obviously. But that’s not all that happened, right? I mean, none of the surrounding areas felt it, and if the ground cracked, they should have. And the fire, I saw some of the people going there that night.” It feels weird to admit that to someone else. But it gets El to turn her head and look at Julie again. “I couldn’t get them to stop moving.”

El’s brows knit together. “I did not know other people saw them go there.”

“It was really scary. I didn’t know until the next morning, but they were walking to their death. There were some people in the crowd that I knew, so I recognized their names when the missing person reports and the obituaries. No matter what I did, it was like they couldn’t hear me, and just kept walking. Like they were possessed.”

El reaches across the small gap between them and grabs Julie’s hand. Making Julie’s fingers feel colder than they were, as they suddenly fill with warmth. She squeezes Julie’s hand, holding it close. “There was more to that night. More that I cannot tell you. I wish I could, but you are better off not knowing. But I am so sorry that you saw a little bit that was happening. And very happy that it did not get to you too.”

“That what didn’t get to me?” Julie turns on her side, fully facing El.

“It is safer for you not to know. Please trust me. Friends don’t lie.”

There is a seriousness in El’s eyes that ages her five years. Suddenly turning her into a brave soldier, instead of just a kid. Julie’s eyes trace her face, reading the fear mixed with experience resting in her muscles. Molded instead of out of place. This isn’t a new expression for El. Somewhere, that breaks Julie.

“Ok, I believe you,” Julie says, ready to change the subject. To see that look melt off of El’s face, hoping to never see it again. Instead, she yawns.

“It is late, we should go to sleep. There is a lot you probably have to do tomorrow. Or today, what time is it?”

Julie shrugs, not wanting to turn to see the clock on the bedside table. “Didn’t look at it when I got up.”

El releases Julie’s hand, making it feel cold again. She pulls the sheets tight around her. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Julie’s eyes stay open as El’s close, watching as she starts to fall asleep again. She eventually forces her eyes to close, tries to get sleep to come. It doesn’t. Not for a while at least.

There’s something weird with her, mixed with everything else she was already feeling that night. Part of her knows what it is, but she doesn’t want to admit it.

. . .

When Steve looks in the mirror the next morning, he has to relive the fact that the events of the previous night actually happened. That instead of just a normal night stayed at the Byers, it was because he was kicked out of his childhood home. Not because he left on his own accord. Even if he was the one to slam the door behind him.

Just because he was planning to leave, doesn’t mean he was planning to leave like this. With a nice bruise formed above his cheekbone and dried blood on his lip. Bags filled with the rest of his and Julie’s belongings in the living room. The rest in boxes scattered in different locations. Somethings still left behind. Things he’s never getting back.

His mind races to anything left in his car that could come back to bite him. It’s empty, for the most part. Steve knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep the car, it still had his dad’s name on it. It’s why he couldn’t sell it when he was saving up money. The trunk was empty, the baseball bat that would have certainly raised questions in another location. The glove compartment had nothing in it but snacks and a first aid kit. Normal things. The pictures on his sun visor were gone.

He was safe. Why didn’t he feel safe.

This feeling is something Steve knows more than he should. Adrenaline flooding his veins, making him be alert when he just needs to rest. Constricting his chest, making his breaths short and shallow. Counting in for four does nothing when he can only make it to two before his lungs feel like bursting. His muscles tense at every sound, every movement. Pulling him into the ready position. Ready for the next monster to burst through the wall.

There’s a knock at the door, making him jump. Chest thumping with the fast beat of his heart.

“Steve, sweetie,” Joyce’s voice comes through the door. “Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”

Somehow, that breaks Steve out of the spell he was in, realizing the white of his knuckles as they gripped the sink. He lets go, feeling relief. “Ok, I’ll be out in a second.”

He forces a deep breath into his lungs, shutting his eyes so he can’t see his reflection again. Things need to happen today. He needed to get things done today. The Byers are kind enough not to kick them out, but he can’t expect them to let them stay for more than a day or two.

Tomorrow Sarah is going to tell her higherups that they were kicked out. Let them decide if Julie needs to be moved again. Strip away the home that they’ve been building for the past few months. Making Steve have to start over all over again. He can’t start over again.

So these feelings, this churn in his stomach, they can’t stay. After the door closes behind him, so does the chest holding everything in. There will be a time where he can process all that happened, why he’s feeling like this. But now is not that time.

Maybe never will be the time.

When Steve sits down at the table, he’s hyperaware on the way he’s acting. Making sure his posture is the same as it always is. Unbothered, relaxed. When nothing is relaxed. He smiles at Joyce when she brings him a plate, thanking her. Makes conversation with them, greets Will when he gets back from Mike’s. Acts perfectly normal. To most of them at least.

Julie stares at him from a few spots down. Waiting for him to mention anything from the previous night. Eddie reaches under the table to squeeze his thigh, silently asking if he’s alright. Steve brushes it off, insisting that he’s fine.

Because he is fine, why wouldn’t he be?

After breakfast he makes some calls. Somehow, the papers were filed faster than he thought and he’s able to pick up the keys tomorrow morning. Just in time. He changes his contact information with a few places, making a mental note to do it at work his next shift.

Then, he just sits. Feeling unfamiliar in his body. Trying so hard to release the tension that feels sewn into his muscles. Wondering if he breathes deep enough, it will pressure his heart to stop jumping at every motion. Every sound. Stop his mind from racing between synapses without purpose. Snapping to snapshots of moments he’d rather not remember.

The face of his father as he yelled. The disappointment in his mother’s glare. The pain in both their smiles, perfectly molded for photographs. But one look in real life shows the cracks in their composure. They never smiled at him with true intentions, just to keep up the mask.

Memories he’s repressed all come flooding back. Screams of his parents fighting. Hands sore from how hard they clutch his knees to his chest. Hiding away, thinking that it would stop them. That if he went far enough away, he wouldn’t hear them anymore.

That was accomplished. He finally ran away. Somewhere not that far, but they won’t care enough to come find. He should be happy.

Every time Steve thinks that his parents don’t have any hold of him anymore, something happens. Smacks him just right across the face as a little reminder that he is nothing more than a product of them. Something for them to sculp into the perfect accessory. To look at but never really love.

It hurts. Scars on the outside are gruesome, but it is the ones lashed into his heart that sting. Dark in the night, when the silence creeps into his ears, reminding him of every wrong he’s ever done. Of the disappointment that he truly is.

Robin said something to him once that made him put things into perspective. Life is what changes people, makes them who they really are. It is the people that choose to stay that make the impact. The deciding factor. Back then, those words made him feel some sort of peace.

Now, it’s pulling him down to the same question that’s plagued his mind for years. Maybe his entire life. Why wasn’t he enough for them to stay?

Why is he enough for anyone to stay?

Sometime later, he’s not exactly sure, Eddie moves from beside him. Standing in front of Steve with his hand outstretched, waiting for him to take it.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Steve takes it, gripping it harder than he should. The familiarity giving him some peace of mind. Making the train stop in its tracks for a moment. Before it starts moving again.

“Woods or street?” Eddie asks when they get outside.

“Woods,” Steve finds himself saying. He won’t have to let go of Eddie’s hand if they are in the woods.

Eddie nods, leading Steve around the house and into the woods. Walking forward without direction. The same way he walked straight into Steve’s heart. Nothing was planned, it just happened. Even when Steve does plan things, it doesn’t stop anything else from happening.

“You want to tell me what’s been keeping you in your head all day?”

Steve knows that he doesn’t mean it to be pushy, but the words come off that way. No matter how softly they are said. Steve just shakes his head no.

Eddie nods again, letting them walk in silence. Just keep walking.

So many things have happened in these woods. Fights, searches. Life. Growth. In some ways, everything started here for Steve. One event that took place in these woods changing the course of his life forever. For the better, he says most of the time. But was it really for the better?

If it weren’t for monsters lurking in these woods, Steve would be the person he was four years ago. Young and stupid. Not knowing much about the world around him, but that didn’t matter. His brain was healthy, his ears worked right, and his eyesight wasn’t as blurry. His mind was anxious about normal things, like college, and grades, rather than something lurking the dark ready to kill him. Take the people he loves away from him. It never happened directly to him, yet he still feared it.

His torso wasn’t littered with scars that made him wince when he looked at himself in the mirror. There wouldn’t be a scar around his neck that made people do a double take. Blood wouldn’t rush at the flickers of lights and clashes of thunder. He would be able to enjoy looking at fireworks again, or a roaring campfire.

Life would be simpler. It would be different. Maybe then, he would have gotten into college. Made his dad proud for once. Be on the path to greatness just like he was supposed to. With a sports scholarship under his belt that he didn’t really need, but it didn’t hurt.

Maybe then he would have finally been enough.

A tear rolls down Steve’s cheek without him realizing it. Years of unprocessed trauma resting behind the gates. No matter how many tears were shed, it’s never enough to heal the wounds. All of his wounds.

At the end of all of it, Steve’s tired. Tired of the what ifs and endless possibilities. Tired of fighting with everything including his own thoughts. Beating back self-deprecation until it fights back enough to knock him out for a while. Wondering what life could have been if he walked away when he had the chance. He’s the only one who was ever really given that chance.

The kids lost their friend, so did Nancy. Joyce lost a son. Jonathan lost a brother. Hopper had a job to do. Max, even if she had a choice in the beginning, would have always been wrapped up into this because of Billy. Robin just wanted to help Steve and Dustin solve a puzzle. Eddie saw people die before his eyes. El was made for this.

Steve, he had a choice to make. Leave or go back into the house and fight for something that was worth it. Somehow, Steve always ends up fighting. Did he really want to this time? The damage was done, he didn’t want their money. What was the point of all of this really? To settle some score? Prove who the bigger man was?

Eddie stops them when they get to a small clearing, pulling Steve into a hug. Holding him close with a deep breath, making Steve do the same.

“I don’t know what your head’s been telling you, but you should know it’s not true. Whatever it is.”

Steve sighs. “I’m just so tired. I don’t even know why I’m fighting with them anymore.”

There’s a rustle a few feet away, paired with whispered swears. Robin comes into view, half tripping over a stray branch. “You guys really had to go wandering through the woods with nothing to communicate with. And you couldn’t have waited for me to get there first.”

Steve snorts. “I didn’t even know you were coming over.”

She walks over to them. “Yeah well, when your best friend gets kicked out, says he’ll call you the next morning, and then doesn’t, you start to worry. Your head being a bitch to you again?”

“Sort of.”

“Alright then, make room for me in this hug. Don’t make it weird, please.” She forces her way underneath Steve and Eddie’s arms to hug the both of them. Making a sort of triangle. Steve’s suddenly really glad that she’s here.

A breath releases from Steve. One filled with relief. Finally releasing the band around his chest. More tears sneak out of his eyes as his body finally relaxes. The adrenaline fading, reality sinking in. Weight returning to where it rests on his shoulders. The expected freedom is nowhere to be seen.

The reality is crushing him.

A choked sob causes Eddie and Robin to hold him tighter. As tight as they can in this configuration. Steve doesn’t know what he did to deserve these two. Doesn’t know how he got them to stay. But as everything came crashing down around him, they’re still here. He has barely anything to his name. Just a small house with a large loan, a shitty retail job, and a whole bunch of traumas that follows him around. But instead of running, they’re still here. They stayed with him.

Somehow, Steve is now on the ground. Wiping away tears as Robin rubs his back. As Eddie holds his hand. He feels the need to apologize but knows that they’ll yell at him for it. Still, the words rest on his tongue. But he stays silent, focusing on his breathing. Calming himself down.

“Feel better?” Robin asks softly. “It looked like the floodgates were pushed open.”

Steve lets out a wet laugh. “They kind of did. I think everything just came out at once.”

“Yeah, well, you went through a lot yesterday.” Eddie rakes a hand through Steve’s hair, getting it out of his face. “It has to come out somehow.”

Robin makes a small gasp. Probably finally seeing Steve’s face unobstructed. She looks towards Eddie, getting confirmation with a small nod. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about in particular, or none of it at all? Want me to tell you about something random just so your mind can shut up?”

“I feel.” Steve pauses to find the words. “I feel like I’m always fighting. Whether it’s the upside down shit, or myself, or my parents, it’s always a fight. I kind of just want to stop it all. And this case, it’s solid but is it worth it if I’m just going to feel like shit all over again?”

“This was always because you wanted to do it, but if you don’t want to do it anymore, you don’t have to,” Robin assures.

Steve picks at the grass. “I don’t know anymore.”

“You can always think about it. There’s time to back out of this, the court date hasn’t even been set yet.” Eddie shifts to sit next to Steve, wrapping an arm around his back.

Robin sits on the other side of him, leaning against his side. “Yeah. Fight, no fight. You still got us to go through it with you. Just take one step at a time.”

“My next step is finding beds for us to sleep in. I get the keys tomorrow and we need to move in kind of immediately.”

“Trip to the thrift store,” Robin gasps. “I love the thrift store.”

“Which one, the one on Mulberry next to the Laundromat or center of town?” Eddie asks.

Robin fake gags. “Not the one on Mulberry, the owner creeps me out. The one in the center of town, it has really good stuff.”

“Yeah, only after you search for four hours,” Steve snorts. “How long did it take you to find, ‘the right sweater,’” he mimics.

“That’s irrelevant. Seriously though, are we going? It might not have the best stuff, but you won’t be sleeping on air mattresses.”

“Maybe in a bit. I just want to sit here for a while longer.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s head. “As long as you need.”

Steve kind of wishes that they could stay there for the rest of the day. Hidden from the rest of the world by the trees, listening to the calmness around them. But he has things to do. He doesn’t have to do them alone this time.

. . .

The next morning, Steve and Eddie are gone when Julie wakes up. Joyce says they have to go pick up some things and will be back around lunchtime. When they come back, everyone gets into their cars to go pick up some boxes. Boxes from the Byers’, Henderson’s, Munson’s and Buckley’s all being loaded into cars and brought over to the knew house.

Their new house.

Julie sees all the madness happening around her, as the boxes get brought and placed on the mismatched furniture Steve scrambled to get yesterday and this morning. Wondering if moving is always like this. Bare walls and empty rooms. Nothing but belongings packed in boxes and empty dressers, cabinets, drawers. All waiting to be filled. Waiting for a house to be made into a home.

Moving was something Julie never experienced until a year ago. And it wasn’t happy then. Just a reminder that she had to leave the place she grew up in without a choice. Without the person who always made her feel safe. It was all stripped away too soon.

Then the next place that gave her a bed to sleep in was terrible. Making sleeping on a park bench in the cold much better than sleeping in a bed. Until Steve offered for her to stay, and she took it. Finding something that could resemble the home she once knew. It was close, but never just quite right.

This place, it was everything that her mom ever wanted. The purpose of fruitless savings jars. Counting every penny from tips and saving everything that they didn’t need for bills. Only for it to get lost anyway, either from her mom’s vices or her boyfriend stealing it all.

But here, now, it’s almost like Julie can still feel her mom’s presence in this house. Feel a presence watching her every move. Smiling as the room slowly becomes hers. As this place becomes Julie’s knew home. It doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

Maybe this is how it’s always going to be from now on. The little twinge in her heart making her think of her mom. See her in all the little things around her. Making it all feel bittersweet. She’s still here, even if it’s not in the same house they lived in. Even if she isn’t here anymore. Julie will always have her mom.

Unpacking is chaotic. There’re too many people and everyone keeps putting things away without asking where either of them wants them. Just to get them out of the boxes. That won’t make it easier when they have to rearrange everything later. But things are better sitting inside of cabinets so they can use the counters to place more boxes. Things have to move so they don’t get stuck.

Luckily for her, Julie can just focus on her room. Steve found an old bedframe at a thrift store that got set up in her room and an old dresser that squeaks when you open the drawers, if they open at all. It’s fine for now, and it can be fixed. A lot of these things can be fixed. The only new thing in her room is the mattress, because apparently Robin insisted that they get a new one because of all the bugs that can live in there.

El’s there helping her unpack. Brought a few things for some decorations too since Julie lost some of the decorations in her room. For the second time now. But now there’s some photos on the wall of the group together, and a few movie and band posters. It’s not quite right yet, but it’s getting there.

A few hours later, the Byers’ leave, and Steve and Eddie go get some pizza. Leaving Julie and Robin to unpack the last of the boxes and set up a folding table and some chairs for them to eat on.

“Could I ask you a weird question?” There’s been something gnawing in Julie’s mind for a few days now, making her feel weird. Something she really doesn’t know how to put into words or ask Steve about. But Robin would know.

“Yeah sure,” Robin says while snapping open a folding chair.

Julie picks at the skin around her thumbs. “How did you know you were a lesbian? Like, that you liked girls?”

Robin freezes in shock, before relaxing with a small smile. “I’d say this is a couch kind of conversation, but we don’t have one yet, so how about the floor?”

“Floor’s fine.”

They sit down in the makeshift pile of pillows and blankets that’s acting as a couch. Julie staring down at her hands, nervous. She’s been feeling weird for a while now, and kind of knows why. But there are questions she can’t answer. Feelings she doesn’t want to believe are true.

“So, to answer your question, I think a part of me always knew I liked girls. When I was really young, I might have not realized that is what it was. And when all the other girls were talking about their crushes in elementary and middle school, I would just think they were so weird because boys were gross. I didn’t like boys the way that they liked boys. It wasn’t until middle school that I realized that I thought about girls the way other girls thought about boys.”

“Oh,” is all Julie can say.

Robin nods. “Yeah, that’s kinda when all the pieces clicked into place. After that, it was the denial and the trying to get it away. Act like everyone else did. But it never went away. I kept getting crushes on girls and was a total mess around them. Over time, I accepted it. Embraced it. As much as I could in this town. Now, I’m really proud of the person I am and have an amazing girlfriend. It’s who I am.”

“And you never felt weird about any of it? Like, something was different, and you just couldn’t figure out what it was.”

She remembers the feeling that she had two nights ago. When her and El talked in the middle of the night. How things just kept happening, and she felt so weird. Something was off.

Some of the things Robin said were true. Julie never really had a crush on any boys. On anyone, really. Sometimes, she would lie and just say she had a crush on a random guy in her class. Just to fake normalcy. When really, none of the boys ever caught her eye. What did, she never said aloud.

But it was a trend that she couldn’t ignore anymore. How girls would walk down the hall and Julie would find herself turning her head. Lying and just saying she liked their outfit. It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t exactly the truth. And then there would be the continuous thoughts of someone in her class that would never go away. No matter how hard she tried. And she tried. So hard.

Julie was already the daughter of a single mother that drank her problems instead of dealing with them. No father, no money, nothing. She didn’t need to be the weird kid that liked girls too. So she wasn’t. Until she was.

The pieces clicked, just like Robin said they did. They did a while ago. But like a lot of things, Julie pushed them away to be dealt with later. There was so much more to worry about. Get angry about. She didn’t need to get angry at herself too.

Looking back now, Julie did have crushes. Ones that didn’t make much sense in her young mind, or ones that she just shoved off thinking it was jealousy. It was easier to pretend it didn’t exist rather than face the music. But when asked if she had a crush on someone, it was always a girl’s name that rested on the tip of her tongue that she swallowed down and forgot.

Robin lets out a small laugh. “All the damn time. I think mainly before I accepted it all.” After a break of silence, Robin asks, “Are you feeling a bit weird?”

Julie nods, pulling her knees close to her chest. “For a while now. But my life was so full of so many other things that it was easy for me to ignore it. It’s not so easy to ignore anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Robin sighs.

“And I just,” Julie struggles to find the words. “If what I’m feeling is what I think it is, I just don’t want to screw up what I have.”

Robin takes a deep breath. “Did Steve ever tell you how we became friends?”

Julie shakes her head.

“Well, the story is really long and complicated, and there’s things that I can’t really share. But the short of it all is that we worked together at an ice cream shop called Scoops Ahoy back when the mall was still standing.”

“I remember that place, those outfits were terrible.”

Robin laughs. “Yeah, they were. But that’s how we met. We really became friends while hiding out in a bathroom and I told him I had a crush on a girl named Tammy Thompson. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t know how he was going to react, especially since it was also a rejection. But he took it like a champ and made me feel comfortable with someone knowing this big secret I’ve kept for years. And now he’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Was it hard?”

“It was and it wasn’t. Telling anyone in this town about being queer is hard, because you don’t really know how they’re going to react. Hell, most of the town has Reagan signs out on their lawns. So that made it hard. But it was also really easy. The thing about Steve is he’s really caring and accepting about the people he cares about. He wasn’t always, at least it didn’t seem like it. But somehow, he grew up and became the person we both know and love. He might joke and be bitchy sometimes, but deep down, he cares more than he’d like to admit.”

Julie smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

“There were a few other people that were easy to tell too,” Robin continues. “Eddie, obviously. You and Dustin in the car. And Nancy, which was harder for a different reason.”

Julie stays quiet, patiently listening.

“It was different with Nancy because I had the worst, biggest, ginormous crush on her when I told her. I needed to know that she was ok with this part of me before I could even think of telling her about it. It was just as scary as you think it was. But after those words left my mouth, Nancy just smiled and gave me a hug, and the biggest weight was off my chest. Few months later, I had the courage to tell her how I really felt, and then we started dating.”

“You guys were friends before you started dating right?”

Robin nods. “I was so scared that she wouldn’t like me back, and I would ruin everything.”

Julie nods, letting the words sink in. She’s not alone in this. “I’m kind of there right now, I think. Actually, I’m not really sure. Just. Something happened and it made me feel really weird, but I can’t tell if it’s because of the other things happening in my life or if it is a crush.”

“And this crush, if that is what it is, is that about a girl?” Robin asks softly. “You don’t have to tell me, of course. Only if you want to.”

She takes a second before nodding. “Yeah,” Julie whispers. “Yeah, it’s about a girl.”

Saying it out loud makes it all real. Heart dropping to her stomach as her breathing increases. This was real. She was like this. Nerves fill her, making her want to cry. Some part out of relief, the rest out of panic. There was no coming back from it now.

Robin notices her change in demeanor, scooting closer and placing a hand on Julie’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Julie whispers into her knees.

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it went for me too.”

Tears start to well up in Julie’s eyes. Today’s already been a lot, now this. She feels arms wrap around her, holding her together. If Robin can do this, like girls and be happy, Julie can too. It’s just so much right now.

The keys jingle in the door before it creaks open. Julie pulls her head out of her knees and wipes her eyes. Robin shifts a little away from her. Both of them trying to act normal.

“Pizza’s here,” Steve says as he places it on the makeshift kitchen table. He looks at Julie, before turning his head to Robin. Julie doesn’t know what she does, but Steve just nods and doesn’t say anything.

That night, Julie sleeps in her new room. The unfamiliarity of it all freaking her out a bit. She’ll get used to it eventually.

The confession from earlier still weighs in her mind. Only one face finding her mind when she closes her eyes.

. . .

March 1986

In the middle of the night, the trailer starts rattling. Glasses clanking together in the kitchen, books falling off of Julie’s shelves. A large clash comes from the living room, followed by a string of loud swears. Julie jumps out of bed, stumbling down the hall. The floor shaking beneath her feet.

This has never happened before. Sure, the trailer sometimes shook during a thunderstorm. But never like this. This was so different.

“Mom,” she calls out.

Her mom stands from the floor. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

Julie looks at the kitchen, glass covering the floor. The living room is a mess, tv lying flat on the floor, decorations fallen off of tables and shelves. Rebecca pulls Julie into the bathroom, holding her under the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Julie asks frantically.

“I don’t know,” her mom responds. Trying to stay calm but the fear can’t be hidden in her words.

Just as it started, everything stops. An eerie silence fills the trailer for a few minutes. Until doors start to open, and screams come from outside. Rebecca grabs a flashlight and puts on her shoes.

“Stay in here ok, we don’t know what’s going on outside.” She leaves Julie alone in the trailer.

Julie’s heart thumps in her chest as she tries to control her breathing. What just happened? An earthquake? There were almost never earthquakes here. And if there were, it was just the remnants of one from farther away. What could have shaken the trailer so hard it forced cabinets open and made a mess of the floor.

Stepping carefully, Julie heads to the front door to put on her shoes. So, she doesn’t accidentally step on some glass. Stepping on the couch, she opens the window to look outside. Gasping at the scene in front of her.

The earth was split in a mound of broken gravel and dirt that seemed to spread for miles. Trailers split in two, dead being pulled out of the rubble. People frantically rushing around, trying to grab what they can and help who needs it. Sirens blare in the distance, some speeding right past the trailer park, some pulling in. Ambulances filled one after the other and more pass in both directions on the main street.

Julie opens the door and steps on to the creaky porch. More of the boards broken than normal.

“Max,” Mrs. Mayfield screams into the night. “Max, where are you?”

Julie sees her mom run over to her. “Susan. Susan, calm down.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

 Julie hasn’t seen Max in days. Having left with some friends to hang out with over the break. She hasn’t been here. Unless she was part of the group that stole that RV. Julie could have sworn it was her.

Rebecca brings Susan into the house, ushering Julie back inside. Somehow makes some tea in the kitchen. Using one of the few mugs that don’t have cracks in them. Trying to keep calm away from the chaos happening outside.

In the morning, the news stories flood in. Streets split down the middle with destruction. Half of the houses pristine while the others are unrecognizable. All meeting at the town hall, marking the town with an “X”. Warning all who enter.

Then the people start to leave. Those without homes, those with. All packing up their minivans and cars with what they deem most important. Leaving the rest to be labeled as abandoned. The high school becomes a shelter. Full of donations and people the hospital doesn’t have a bed for.

Explanations are given but they don’t answer questions. People are found while others stay missing. First responders search through rubble, slowly crossing names off a list. The graveyards get their new residents by the dozen.

Hawkins becomes something of a ghost town.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther,

[hms-no-fun]

Currently struggling a lot with getting very excited about a project, writing a lot, editing that writing until it's way more polished than what I can come up with off the cuff, and then being too intimidated to add to the document anymore since the previous good writing still gives off this looming intimidation if that makes sense? The more I write the greater the fear is I'll crash the story into a ditch that reveals the premise can't work. have you had that "its not all coming together shit theres a snag thats really important that i missed" moment? I realize it's pretty inevitable for that to happen, but whenever I write myself out of a moment like that I always second guess that I'm still overlooking something important or taking the easy way out. I know it's probably just all about pushing through but I worry that by pushing im just further diluting the original spirit of the project? Sorry for the all over the place ask, hope you have a good day :3

this is always a tough situation to navigate as a writer. happens to me often, and it has taken me a very long time to come even remotely close to being able to deal with it productively. believe it or not, i actually have quite a lot to say about this, so prepare for that below the break.

first of all, no, it's absolutely NOT all about pushing through. i find "pushing through" can just as often make the problem worse. keep in mind that i can only speak to my own experience and process, so any advice i might give here should only be taken insofar as you personally find it useful.

this is a form of writer's block. there are many different types of blocks, each with their own causes and hypothetical treatments. a big part of becoming A Writer as such is learning the difference between them, and developing methods for dealing with them on a case by case basis that don't involve substance abuse. don't do cocaine. that's step one.

most of my blocks are in the vein you describe. i'll be writing a scene that feels good, until i cross a threshold somewhere and suddenly the whole thing feels dead in the water. the first thing i do when this happens is stop writing. it's hard to stop when you're on a roll, i know. life is short and it's hard enough to write even on a good day, but sometimes you can just tell that you're on the wrong track and at that point you're probably not gonna be able to write your way back on.

once stopped, i check the basics. have i eaten recently? am i hydrated? have i taken my medications? these are rarely my problem (i keep a big water bottle with me at all times and my gf makes sure i'm fed), though you never know how useful a snack break can be. most of the time if the problem isn't with the text, it's that i've been writing for too fucking long and i need to clock out. learning to clock out is SO hard. but as i've been getting into the habit these last couple months, while i generally write less per day i ultimately end up writing more over time. i can feel my brain cooking when i've been writing too long. it's a muscle like anything else. if you did a bunch of overtime shifts at a more physical job, you'd need time to recover too. your body isn't a machine, your brain isn't a computer, and living things are inconsistent. it sucks but you'll have a better time all around when you learn to work with your body instead of against it.

another question is, have i showered recently? i find showers tedious and boring. also i still have depression even though my life is a lot better than it used to be. i lived on my own for a very long time as a deeply closeted self-hating trans woman, so my hygiene habits are not always up to sniff. as much as i hate to admit it, showers help. i can't tell you how many times i've sat at a godfeels chapter or video script and just felt fucking miserable, only to come back forty minutes later from a shower, full of creative energy. i despise self-help shit. just not a fan of the culture of positive attitude wellness check stuff because you can't self examine your way out of your class position. sometimes the problem is that you're broke. sometimes life fucking sucks and you just don't have the art in you, and that's okay. there's a common misconception that if something bad happens to you, at least you can make an art to get through it. but in my experience it's actually a lot harder to make art about bad times when you're still in them. most of the time it takes months if not years of safety and recovery before you can really face it head on artistically. so like, be nice to yourself. it's not your fault that you live in a society.

but also sometimes literally you just need a shower or to eat some leftovers or to go to fucking bed. i hate it every time that is true because i want my problems to be real and philosophical and not just some dumb body thing that happens to everyone. alas, no one can escape the quotidian obligations of simple mortality.

THAT SAID! this stuff isn't usually my problem, and often i find that what's solving the problem when i do step away to eat/drink/shower isn't even the specific activity, but the act of stepping away at all. getting my mind off it for a sec. when i hit a block that doesn't feel completely insurmountable, i like to back away from my computer and pace around a bit. then i'll stare at my big whiteboard with a marker in hand and just let my mind wander. i don't even write anything half the time! but the mere act of trying to compartmentalize the problem into something brief enough for shorthand helps me spot the pain points.

one of my favorite books is Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which despite what you might assume from its title is NOT a self-help book but instead a work of philosophy from 1974 taking the form of a travelogue. what Robert Pirsig explores in this book is what he calls the Metaphysics of Quality. basically he's trying to understand the split-second judgments we make of things we like and things we don't. i absolutely do not have time to go into the specifics, just know that his Quality refers to the abstract certainty you have when something is Good or Right or Correct or Qualitatively True. like how you pull your hand away unconsciously when you touch a hot stove, but for ideas. you just Know.

a scene that really sticks with me from that book (probably the most famous scene) is when Pirsig describes needing to fix a mechanical problem with his motorcycle only to be stopped dead in his tracks by a stripped screw keeping him from removing the engine cover. he talks about being so focused on the obvious solution to the primary complex problem that, on encountering a smaller, simpler problem that has to be dealt with first, he finds himself completely stuck, calling this "a zero of consciousness." it's a problem so annoying and minuscule and stubbornly unsolvable that you just want to hit the thing with a wrench and throw it in a river. addressing this new problem, this block, requires an adjustment in thinking. and here i'm going to quote a pretty lengthy passage, but don't worry, i'm typing it out by hand with the book in front of me so there's no time saved on my end:

Consider, for a change, that this is a moment to be not feared but cultivated. If your mind is truly, profoundly stuck, then you may be much better off than when it was loaded with ideas. The solution to the problem often at first seems unimportant or undesirable, but the state of stuckness allows it, in time, to assume its true importance. It seemed small because your previous rigid evaluation which led to the stuckness made it small. But now consider the fact that no matter how hard you try to hang on to it, this stuckness is bound to disappear. Your mind will naturally and freely move toward a solution. Unless you are a real master at staying stuck you can't prevent this. The fear of stuckness is needless because the longer you stay stuck the more you see the Quality-reality that gets you unstuck every time. What's really been getting you stuck is the running from the stuckness [. . .] Stuckness shouldn't be avoided. It's the psychic predecessor of all real understanding. An egoless acceptance of stuckness is a key to an understanding of all Quality, in mechanical work as in other endeavors. It's this understanding of Quality as revealed by stuckness which so often makes self-taught mechanics so superior to institute-trained men who have learned how to handle everything except a new situation. Normally screws are so cheap and small and simple you think of them as unimportant. But now, as your Quality awareness becomes stronger, you realize that this one, individual, particular screw is neither cheap nor small nor unimportant. Right now this screw is worth exactly the selling price of the whole motorcycle, because the motorcycle is actually valueless until you get the screw out. With this re-evaluation of the screw comes a willingness to expand your knowledge of it. [. . .] What your actual solution is is unimportant as long as it has Quality. Thoughts about the screw as combined rigidness and adhesiveness and about its special helical interlock might lead naturally to solutions of impaction and use of solvents. That is one kind of Quality track. Another track may be to go to the library and look through a catalog of mechanic's tools, in which you might come across a screw extractor that would do the job. Or to call a friend who knows something about mechanical work. Or just to drill the screw out, or just burn it out with a torch. Or you might just, as a result of your meditative attention to the screw, come up with some new way of extracting it that has never been thought of before that beats all the rest and is patentable and makes you a millionaire five years from now. There's no predicting what's on that Quality track. The solutions all are simple-- after you have arrived at them. But they're simple only when you know already what they are.

this is, in brief, my entire creative philosophy when it comes to writer's block. i share such a lengthy passage because i think it's useful to underline that we're not talking about a problem that is necessarily unique to the labor of writing. this process is a human process. it's just that with writing, the nature of the block itself is often much more difficult to identify than a stripped screw.

there's a couple things i do to try to identify what's got me stuck. a lot of times what happens is that everything in a scene felt good until it didn't, and then everything after that moment fell flat. so i'll go back and read the whole thing and just try to feel the scene. is everyone in character? is their dialogue too quippy, or too aggressive, too expository? are we in the midst of a conversation that has simply gone on way too fucking long? i know it can be torturous to reread your own stuff but idk what else to say except get used to it. especially when you're still early in the drafting phase! like if you know you're not gonna release this thing imminently, there's no reason to be precious about the stuff that's good or to beat yourself up over the stuff that's bad. i know that compulsion to try to Get Everything Right The First Time is strong, but it's completely unsustainable.

sometimes the block is that i just don't feel like writing narration. i've always sucked at grounding a scene with descriptions of the place. lately i'm trying to get away from relying solely on descriptions of staging/blocking, but it's hard for a bitch like me who mostly prefers writing dialogue. i've gotten a lot more comfortable with putting notes between dialogue exchanges like [character moves, looks at picture, has a dramatic thought, other character fiddles with object]. it can feel like cheating sometimes but it's not. there's no such thing. no one will know the route you took to get to the end. they will only see what you show them, when you decide to show it to them.

sometimes the block is in some minor or major betrayal of the story's spirit. the (Terezi) & Jade scene i talked about in this ask is a good example. i hit a point where nothing was working anymore. no one would talk to me. the light was gone. i can always tell when i made the wrong choice. it's such a particular sensation. as though i'm walking and i realize i no longer recognize the road i'm on and must've made a wrong turn somewhere. the solution to this particular block is introspection, retracing my steps, because the wrong turn isn't always obvious. maybe it's that someone in the scene is being too mean, or that i've failed to accomplish what the scene exists to do in some way, or that someone's made an uncharacteristic choice that now everyone in the scene is arguing about and it's like, man, this is taking too long, i'm not enjoying this anymore.

another example from A1 is the second half of the solo. i'd had most of the jasprose scene, the karkat-calliope-roxy scenes, and the vrisrezi-jade scenes written since i posted the A1 chorus. where i ran into trouble was that i needed to get jane, jake, and (terezi) to show up. my original plan was to have them arrive one by one, thus allowing their individual dramas a moment in the spotlight before being subsumed into the group. not a bad idea in theory but in practice it was fucking tedious. here we have a bunch of characters already immersed in the scene captured by the intrigue of Jade being enigmatic, and then some unawares jagoff wanders in and suddenly everyone has to stop what they're doing and be like "hey hello how are you what's up" and then they explain how they got there and then they ask what's up and it's such a DRAG. honestly i would say the majority of my creative blocks by volume are moments when the story really wants me to just cut to black for a smoke break and come back when somebody gets mad enough to throw a punch. i mean that's the the development of A1 in a nutshell. originally everyone was gonna start the track locked up in space-jail on the hopebringer, jade would show up all apologetic and say what she expects padua's deliberation to be, then the whole cast would see her throw a fit over a decision she knew was coming, they'd all be absolved of guilt and let free, then they'd all argue about who's staying or going with Jade in the morning, they'd split up to go pack their stuff and then...

well that was exactly the problem. i wanted to get all the pertinent things out of the way. jade's code switching, voidthought, some EWL teases. give the whole cast a chance to react to it. i thought that would be expedient, because it got the Plot out of the way and gave time to characters for Feelings. if that version of the scene had come at the end of chapter 8, it might have worked. but i realized that as soon as jade's audience was no longer captive, i had no fucking clue what to do with them anymore. we already knew who would go with jade, so acting like that's some kind of mystery is just lame. i started writing A1 from a place of desiring informational density & a quick pace, because we've got places to go and things to do. but if the real purpose of A1 is to explore why these characters choose to go with Jade, then that needed to be done with a lot more care and precision. that's when i decided to let Jade spend two days underground making the earth right again, so that she has to come to everyone individually rather than the other way around. and it muddies her motivations, if you don't mind the pun. it puts her at an appropriate remove from the others. i ultimately wound up conveying all the same information as in the original version, but i did it in a way that was more appropriate thematically and artistically. it wound up being longer road than i anticipated, but this is a long story and in this case the longer road was better for the journey.

take the chapter where Jade visits Roxy. i needed some time with Roxy alone to set the scene, since she's the first person Jade decides to visit and i like writing about the insides of trailer homes. i wanted to get some politics from Jane in this chapter, so hey, why not throw in a televised speech? oh, and then i can have some tucker carlson types remind us that Earth C is a fucking mess. i wrote all that, and it was good, but it was just Roxy watching tv. i tried to get into Jade's arrival and couldn't. so i went back and realized, oh, Roxy should be yelling at the tv the whole time! now we get Jane's politics, Roxy's reactions to those politics, as well as bits and pieces of context re: Jane's relationships with Karkat and Roxy. now when Jade arrives, we can play with the question of whether she heard the speech from outside Roxy's door, and why neither of them was physically at the speech in the first place. there's tension and imbalance in Roxy's state of mind when Jade does arrive, so we're more inside her perspective than we usually are, which in turn helps us identify with her when Jade starts infodumping about antimemes.

so often for me, working through a block is a matter of doing a better job utilizing what's available to you. going back to the A1 solo and trying to bring Jake, Jane, and (Terezi) into the scene. i finally returned to it after a couple months of being sick and dealing with life problems. i was frustrated because i'd hoped to be several tracks in to 3.2 by now, and instead i was confronted with just how much more of this thing is left and how long that might take if i couldn't pick up the pace. this thing NEEDED to get done.

and then i remembered that Jasprose is literally right there.

and that was it! problem fucking solved! i had jasprose drop all three of them into the scene completely unceremoniously using manic teleportation through a fenestrated plane, and from there the entire rest of the chapter erupted out of me in a single go. it's such an obvious solution to the problem that you as reader probably assumed it was the plan from the very beginning. but it's like Pirsig says: the solutions all are obvious-- after you've arrived at them.

then there's the problem of overwriting. i actually did i think four different versions of the opening to the A1 solo. the first person narration was a late addition. i tweaked that scene so so so many times. it kept feeling close but not quite. when i did the thing where i reread to find where the block happened, instead of actually reading the thing i just kept finding spots where i could write more. i can extend this anecdote. this line could be better. maybe a comma here would work better than an ellipsis...

this can be good because sometimes what's blocking you is that you skipped over something that needed more time. maybe some information or a dramatic emphasis that gives the stuff you can't yet write the momentum it needs to get going again. but i've gotta be real careful doing this, because i can do it forever. and then, as you describe (hey look, i'm actually talking about your specific problem now!), that hyper-polished section sets everything else up to fail by comparison.

i think the trick is knowing the difference between when a scene needs an editing pass vs when a scene just straight up isn't working. when it's not working, sometimes you do just have to throw it all out and start over. but if it's good enough that you feel like all it's missing is better dialogue and some more description, then you can hold off on that polish until the rest of the thing is done. this conundrum is most common at the beginning of a chapter or story in my experience, precisely as a result of the process i've been describing this whole time. when you hit a block and retrace your steps, you can always find things to fix. so it's sort of natural that any given chapter becomes less polished the further along you get in to it. that's why it's so important to understand the differences between all these different types of blocks, and to remind yourself that literally nothing you've written is finished until the moment you've made it public.

a big part of getting the A1 solo out the door was me swallowing my desire for perfection in every exchange and saying, no, this is good enough. it's not 100% what i want, but it's close enough that it just isn't worth the effort it would take to get there. sometimes there are scenes that are worth that effort, but they are always rarer than you think and they're never the ones you'd expect. i will freely admit that there are a lot of characters expositing their motivations in this chapter. i tried to embed as much of that in humor or drama as i could, but sometimes you just have to shrug your shoulders and walk away and hope your readers will be nice to you.

of course the funny thing is, once i finished the chapter and had all the panels sketched out and wiped my hands clean of the whole affair, janet needed two weeks to make the images. so i ended up having time to polish up a couple of those things that i felt were lacking after all. but those additions were radically small and intuitive, because i'd divorced myself from the raw production and had committed to so many directions that i *couldn't* change much. i'm so used to writing for release that i don't know what to do with myself when my part of the job is done before i can kick it out the door. i've come to find that waiting, taking breaks, walking away and coming back, do wonders for your ability to egolessly examine your work and identify what's wrong. sometimes you just need a day or two to sleep on it.

and sometimes you realize that you've really just over-written a scene, out of preciousness or insecurity or whatever else, and the result is so much bigger than everything else you want to do that it's more expedient to just scrap it. i hate when this happens, man. i did this with an early version of the A1 chorus, when Jade is stuck in space alone and shouting about how unfair her life has been. you know sometimes there's an emotion in a scene that's addictive. some bit of pathos that you just feel down to your bones, fuck me man, this is so GOOD, this is so JUICY, this shit has QUALITY. it's so good you don't want it to be finished. so you keep writing it, and writing it, and you rewrite it, and you add to it, because you really want to squeeze every drop of emotion you can from the thing. and then you wind up with a bloated melodramatic mess that's so overplayed you've annihilated everything that compelled you to write it in the first place.

i want to be clear that this isn't wasted work. nothing you ever put to the page, no matter how ultimately useless it might prove to be, is wasted work. the way i see this whole process, top to bottom, is that there's this thing. i don't know what it is, but it's there. maybe it starts with an image, or a line of dialogue, or a relationship, or a natural vista, whatever. it can be anything. what matters is it's a sign pointing you in a direction. it's something that has Quality that you can feel with such potent immediacy that you have no choice but to write it. the act of writing is something of an expedition, because the real magic of it comes when those disparate signs start colliding with one another. an image becomes a scene, a house, a world, a universe. sometimes these signs lead to dead ends, but with experience you learn to tell the dead ends from the rough patches. you learn how to make your own way. you do this by listening to what this thing is telling you. every story i've ever written has known better than me what it wants. i can impose so much onto it, i control 90% of the process at least. but that other 10% cannot, should not be quantified or controlled but simply understood. if you try to bottle the flame, you'll just end up snuffing it out.

no artist really knows why they do what they do or how they're able to pull it off. they can tell you their methods, their process, their coping mechanisms, they can write ludicrously lengthy diatribes on tumblr in response to an innocuous ask, but you can't pin down the soul of the thing. Quality is ephemeral, because it's first. it happens before you've had time to think, like putting your hand on a hot stove. you just know. and you have to trust that knowledge to carry you forward, not second guess it too much, not try to wrangle the thing into a shape it doesn't want to assume. sometimes this requires writing scenes that you don't love, because it's easier to build a messy bridge between the moments that drive you than it is to perfect every single moment out of an artificial commitment to like, Being A Good Writer or whatever.

a lot of this is just practice. you get better at communicating with your creative impulses. but also i think it helps to internalize that nobody sees the rough drafts, nobody sees the duct tape. and nobody knows the perfect vision you'll be convinced you failed to meet. nobody has ever made a perfect thing, and no one ever will. who wants to be perfect, anyway? godfeels wouldn't be what it is if i wasn't willing to let it be messy. if i'd tried to do it better, it never would have gotten done, and nothing i'm doing now would have even conceptually gotten to exist.

also, it's okay to abandon shit when it stops feeling good. i have so many unfinished books kicking around from my 20s, dude. i feel bad about some of them, but ten years not finishing books is still ten years spent writing. it's actually quite rare for good ideas to result in finished works, because good ideas are cheap and they're not all for you. but you gotta keep trying anyway because sooner or later you'll catch a spark that has real gas, and if you've done the work you'll be ready for it. it'll feel like destiny. it'll feel like magic, how matched that idea is to your skill level. but it won't be magic, it'll be skill. if you hadn't put the work in to know how to follow that intuition, it'd be just as dead an end as everything else you never finished. you do the work so that when you get lucky you can take advantage of it. so in that context, writing is quite low stakes. if it's not good enough, fuck it, try something else!

anyway i hope there's some decent insight buried in here somewhere. thanks for such a good question!

[pommunist]

I'll take that title in stride. I'll just tag myself from this point on lmao.

But for reals. This Fandom has some heinous behavior.

From sending death threats, to doxxing, to stalking, to hate bombing. This isn't technically new to Fandom spaces but it's a tragedy that people think this kind of behavior is ok. Let alone think that sending these things or acting on thus harassment will somehow make things BETTER. It just makes everything fucking worse.

Hell, yall can't even take critiques on their own let alone have nuanced conversations about ideas or stories.

In the greater scheme of things, none of this is real and none of this even matters. All that time wasted on harming one another mentally has done... what? Made everyone feel worse? Stellar job. Really.

I wish this kind of stuff didn't happen and that we didn't NEED people to denounce others publicly or make a massive show about "I'm a good person. See????"

Thats called virtue signaling. It's not genuine and it's not real. It's a performance. People don't HAVE to be loud about support and or denouncement. People can be good people and have the humility to not wave it around at others to show "hey look I'm so much better!!! Look his good I am!!!"

You shouldn't need someone to tell you how to have an opinion that's not fucked up. You shouldn't assume the worst possible thing about people. You shouldn't need someone to say "hey I don't think you should kill people" in order for you to feel fucking confident about their morality. Most people, on average, prefer peace and for people to be kind to one another. Genuinely. Shocker I know.

The holier than thou mentality is actually toxic in this damned place. You're not better than everyone else. You've also made mistakes or said the wrong thing or forgot shit. Everyone does. We're all fucking human.

Start treating eachother as humans. I BEG.

With love,

-FHA ♤

oh how i wish this was a problem that only the qsmp fandom suffered from :’)

i just don’t understand how people who participate in hate trains and harassment campaigns don’t realise that by doing that they’re burning down their own house (on top of engaging in general shitty behaviour, basic respect between humans ? don’t know her !)

as for the holier than thou thing i think this kind of mentality can be especially bad because it can sometimes make people focus on being performative about stuff and call out those who aren’t, rather than actually wanting and doing things to solve an issue

i feel like our cousins from twt are most guilty of this but honestly this is also due to the format twitter as a website and as a space operates on so not all their fault

also love to see you’ve fully embraced your nickname ahaha, love the spade too !

[qrjung]

Character headcanons and thoughts: Perkins & Allen

PERKINS

I think he knows androids are sentient but he doesn't really care much. To him, they're a threat to national security and the human race. Androids are a mistake that should have never been created. This could be because of something personal that happened or just something he strongly believes.

Sure, one could argue that Perkins is "following orders" but this one feels like an order he's more than happy to obey. He probably even asked for the case to be assigned to him.

Outside of work, he has kids, he loves them but is terrible at showing it and this has driven a rift between them. I'd say his kids would be teenagers or young adults. They find that he's a bit too obsessive about his job.

He doesn't have a partner though

Perkins is good at his job because his personal philosophy is "at all costs". This ties in with him not caring whether androids are sentient or not; they're a threat and he will get rid of them "at all costs". He's willing to have human casualties if it means the greater human population is safe

Doesn't trust Cyberlife and has never owned an android in his life. Even though he and Cyberlife technically have similar goals tol "destroy Markus, end the revolution", Perkins thinks they shouldn't just stop at ending the revolution. End Cyberlife too and all the mess they keep causing. This strong dislike of Cyberlife has also leaked into why he hates androids.

He doesn't like President Warren either. She's a Cyberlife implant and he doesn't trust her. He doesn't like how much slack she's cutting Cyberlife or how much she lets their shit slide. He also definitely doesn't like how she keeps messing with Russia to get thirium for Cyberlife. But for the deviancy case, their goals happen to align. And she's also technically his boss; not much he can do about that.

He avoids close confrontation. He's more suited to office work or strategizing. He lets other people do the dirty work/field work.

He drinks his coffee black; bitter, just like him.

Perkins' gallery calls him "The Jackal" and explains this;

Nicknamed "The Jackal" due to his icy temperament, lacking sense of humor and his solitary nature, he is hated by most of his colleagues. On the other hand, his superiors consider him a reliable and efficient agent, which leads him to being entrusted with the most delicate of cases which nobody other than him would want.

I don't know if the people who gave him this nickname were trying to be funny or something because Jackal's are usually known for being cunning and mischievous not "lacking sense of humor" but Jackals are scavengers and they feed on carcasses of dead animal. They eat the things that most other animals wouldn't; the same way Perkins takes on cases other people avoid. It's a neat symbolism.

I would have loved to see Perkins in action, doing his job. We never get to see this and I think it undermines his role as the overarching villain. Why am I supposed to be concerned about a bad guy if I don't know how much of a threat he is?

A scenario I keep imagining is him finding Simon before Connor does and somehow Simon doesn't kill himself before he is captured (I know there's no way Simon would allow himself to get captured but shhhh)

Then we get to have an interrogation scene. Imagine he knows androids are just as conscious as humans, he'll treat Simon like any other suspect. Not because he's feeling nice but because he knows Simon is scared and afraid and he'll toy with that and try to drag as much information out of him as possible (because he's an asshole)

This will give us an opportunity to see what Perkins is capable of and it will definitely end badly so the player gets to be even more sad about it.

ALLEN

He doesn't really have an opinion on androids. I think he's pretty neutral and unless an android is getting in the way of him doing his job (see. Connor) or threatening people's safety (see. Daniel) he doesn't care much for them.

Sometimes though, he's unsettled by androids and he becomes unsure if they're actually "alive" or not. Sometimes, they do things. For instance, he always seems disturbed or disappointed if and android kills themselves in front of him (like if Connor jumps of the rooftop or if you fail to save Emma and Daniel jumps with her).

The Daniel case was the first time he encountered a deviant. He kept thinking about it for weeks afterwards.

I think he would be like Hank; he'd need a personal connection with an android and for the android to prove themselves real before he can start to feel strongly about them. Unlike Hank though, he'll never idealize androids or say their "superior to humans" (even if they technically are).

He doesn't have a family or a partner. He has never wanted one and when he was younger he never even considered it. (also; aroace Allen. Change my mind.)

Doesn't trust Cyberlife either. No matter what he feels about androids, he'll always dislike Cyberlife.

He hasn't gotten good sleep in years.

He has a dog. He seems like a dog person.

In terms of his relationship with the other people in the DPD;

He rarely talks with Gavin. When they do happen to be in close proximity with each other, Gavin tries to start up a conversation but he just glares at him until the air becomes awkward and tense and Gavin leaves him alone.

He's known Hank from a distance, even before he became Captain. He's seen Hank go from a decorated officer to a depressed man who can barely keep his job and like most people he pities Hank.

He and Fowler are friends. They give a similar vibe.

Perkins and Allen are ironically the humans we see behave like machines the most. They're always following orders and have missions to accomplish and they believe that's all that matters. Do I think they would be friends? No. Just because Perkins is too anti-social.

But you know who I'd love to see with Perkins? Connor. Imagine them working together guys, just think about it. Especially if it's the machine route. That's two main antagonists teaming up and Markus has to deal with them both.

[lowpawly]

I decided to watch Chainsaw Man and I'm in episode 9. I didnt expect to binge trough all the episodes ?? The opening and the endings animation are so good !! Also I get now why Himeno feels more morally gray than Makima even though Makima is the literal villain that can explode people. I didn't expect Denji to be 16 ?? And then Himeno vomits on his mouth and takes him to her home drunk and yeah. I felt super bad for him even though Makima did seduce him and is using him for her benefit, but she's like a lot more evil than Himeno so maybe thats it. Oh and the whole sequence of Makima using her powers was so good I was genuinely unnerved, I like that she doesnt have to be super scary in appareance except for her eyes and calm demeanor, actually i think her rather innocence look and soft voice adds to that disturbing feeling!

AHHHH THATS AWESOME i’m so glad people are watching chainsaw man based on my recommendations LOL i’m glad you’re enjoying it! god yeah himeno as a character is fascinating to me because in contrast to a character like makima who embodies this kind of deeper greater power she just feels so…real, you know what i mean? like, this woman is fucked up mentally from her job where she deals with constant death and grief and she copes through repression and substance abuse and sex and ends up not just hurting herself but the people around her. i worry this comes off bad because i completely understand people hating this aspect of her character and wishing it didn’t exist but she like…absolutely seems like the type of person to try and fuck a teen while dead drunk and not give that much of a shit in the morning lmao. it sucks cause denji being a kid just isn’t capable of understanding exactly what happened to him and can only really comprehend the more overly unpleasant parts of his time with himeno, which is like…yeah, that’s real. i would say that denji’s age is actually a really important aspect of chainsaw man because it is just another part of him that puts him further into this vulnerable position that makes him easy to manipulate and take advantage of, makima’s relationship to him being the biggest example of that but it’s something that pops up with other characters too. he’s an orphaned impoverished hungry teenager who was adopted into this world that he cant comprehend is taking complete advantage of him.

GOD makima’s scene where she kills the yakuza agents is fucking amazing and terrifying. it is the first time you really understand the extent and terror of her abilities and the lengths she is willing to go to, and that’s something that builds exponentially as the series goes on. i’m really excited for people who are just watching the anime to see how chainsaw man’s story unfolds and i’m also thrilled to see the rest of the action in the series animated. makima’s supposed innocence and gentle demeanor is something that i think is a really compelling part of her character and is essential to making her as effective as she is. there is this sense of danger and dread with her but it’s hard not to get pulled in and captivated, like a prey animal being hypnotized my a predator. honestly i think it’s cool that her eyes have that hypnotic look to them because it symbolizes the effect she has on people.

sometimes i think i can kinda give perhaps a bit of a warped perception of chainsaw man LOL because it is genuinely a really awesome series with some very morally gray characters and terrifying villains, i’m just also a lesbian who is not immune to hot girls ghfhfjghf even knowing how terrible everything that’s happening is it’s so hard not to be like GOD i wish that were me

[deflare]

Games Workshop didn’t do a funny by putting the Alpha Legion* in at number 20, so instead, we present: the Emperor’s Spears!

Sometimes a chapter’s job is a bit shit. In this case, the Emperor’s Spears were founded to be one of a few chapters guarding a nebula called Elara’s Veil. No crusading for these lads. Maybe that’s why they have anger issues; one of the only notable events in their history is that they got into an outright war with another Space Marine chapter. Since both of them were Ultramarine successors, the Ultramarines sent an envoy to tell them to chill out, officially blaming the Spears for starting shit. They’ve had to work on getting less surly to avoid getting wrecked by later events.

The Spears’ homeworld of Nemeton is an oceanic world, and the Spears carry that naval tradition into space. They field an unusually large fleet, and specialize in rapid deployment from space. In other words, they’re skilled at being marines in the classic sense of ‘amphibious warfare specialists’, if you think of space as a really big ocean.

The chapter’s culture seems to have a pre-Roman Briton vibe to it. Their chapter master is called the High King (a title used by the old kings of Ireland), and their leaders are referred to as Druids. The chapter maintains layers of mystery cults and esoteric rituals, reinforcing that druidic vibe.

When the galaxy cracked in half, Elara’s Veil was right near the crack. This has led to a predictably bad time for the Emperor’s Spears, as the worlds under their protection get swarmed by daemons and Chaos Space Marines. Will they survive? Who knows! (Probably; they have a novel about them now, which bodes well for their place in the ongoing lore.)

All in all, a pretty normal chapter. I like their colors, and the Celtic theming is neat.

*What’s an Alpha Legion, and why would they be in the box of loyalists?

This seems like a good time to do a quick overview of all the traitor legions, since we’ve finished covering the loyalists. So, here are the legions that followed Horus into treason:

-III Legion Emperor’s Children, led by Fulgrim, purple and gold; steadfast perfectionists and duelists, the Children fell into the indulgent embrace of Slaanesh, becoming a bunch of murder-horny weirdos. Notable for pioneering the ‘Noise Marines’, using high-powered sonic weaponry.

-IV Legion Iron Warriors, led by Perturabo, steel and hazard stripes; grim siege-breakers known for throwing themselves into long grinding bloody wars, the Iron Warriors were led astray by their petulant man-child of a leader, who turned against the Emperor out of spite. They’re the premier weaponsmiths of the traitor legions.

-VIII Legion Night Lords, led by Conrad Kurze, dark blue with lightning bolts; stealthy terror troopers, who like doing things like “flaying enemies alive and adorning their armor with the skins”. They were on the edge of being declared rogue for being a bunch of violent sickos before the Heresy, so it only seemed natural to roll with Horus.

-XII Legion World Eaters, led by Angron, white and blue (turning red with spattered blood); the most vicious berserkers of the Space Marines, driven to greater violence by their traumatized gladiator of a Primarch. They practically waltzed into worshipping the murder-god Khorne, having already stucky Murder-Horny implants in their skulls.

-XIV Legion Death Guard, led by Mortarion, bone white and green; some of the toughest Marines, stolid death-bringers specializing in chemical warfare. Mortarion hated the Emperor for being a kill-stealing bastard, so he was an easy sell; he wound up embracing the Plague-Father Nurgle in order to save his legion from a super-pox while they were stuck in the Warp.

-XV Legion Thousand Sons, led by Magnus the Red, red and gold (turned blue and gold); an entire legion of mystic psykers, they got fucked up just before the Heresy when Horus manipulated the Space Wolves into trying to kill all of them. The legion had a problem called the ‘Flesh Change’, where members would turn into horrible meat-monsters; they made a deal with the magic-god Tzeentch to try to fix it, which turned most of the legion into haunted armor automatons. Whoops.

-XVI Legion Sons of Horus, led by Horus, seafoam green and gold; Horus’ own legions, brutal gang fighters who specialized in decapitation strikes against enemy leadership. Formerly the Luna Wolves (white and black armor). After Horus beefed it, they became the core of the Black Legion, the largest and most powerful warband of Chaos Space Marines.

-XVII Legion Word Bearers, led by Lorgar, stone grey (turning to dark maroon); once the most devout followers of the Emperor as a god, they got chastised, and desperately seeking any god who would take them, became the leading evangelists for Chaos. It’s all their fault, really. Get really excited about working with daemons.

-XX Legion Alpha Legion, led by Alpharius and Omegon, shiny teal; the sneakiest of Space Marines, specializing in infiltration, spy stuff, and truly kooky levels of secret-keeping--including the fact that they had two Primarchs, somehow. A bunch of aliens told them “the best thing for the galaxy in the long run is for you to join Horus and help humans go extinct, because that will starve Chaos forever,” and for some reason, the Alpha Legion believed them. The reason they might sneakily have been in the box is because large parts of the Alpha Legion work against other Chaos Marines, leading to speculation that they’re actually secret loyalists. Of course, given how sneaky they are, it’s possible that this Emperor’s Spears guy is actually an Alpha Legionnaire in disguise. Layers within layers.

Master post here

[zombies-aliens]

Work was tiresome today. But overall it was good. Coworkers could tell I was tired or that something was off about me. My eyes felt puffy and were watery at different times during my shift. They probably wanted to ask if I was okay but they didn't for whatever reason. I know I can be stoic at times at work, it's just I'm stressed at work all the time because it's nonstop work I can't even chat with people much. Another coworker told me they have the hardest department in the store and I'm sure they have their days but we have our days like every single day like everyday us runners got to be on top of case calls or else customers get impatient and sometimes they're understanding and very kind, bless those people, but you never know what your gonna get. Idk I don't have much to say about today. Idc who's got it the hardest bc at the end of it all departments suck. Except maybe frozen. It's a one man job and it's doable. I kinda miss it. Way less stressful too. But it does have stressful times for damn sure too. But fuck it was nice to have privacy on the job and I love me my privacy as an introvert. I would be in there and sing my favorite songs. I sang so much Kanye west and practicing singing Spanish songs by bad bunny. And since the freezer was loud bc of the fans that blow cold air it was nice to allow myself to be a little loud myself. It was perfect to even rant about the type of day I was having and blow off steam in there before I came back out to stock the meat. Good times good times. Man I miss them. I've tried getting back into it bc of all the stress it was giving me when I started off because HOLY SHIT was it stressful I almost fainted so many fucking times. I got dizzy so many fucking times it's crazy I didn't just drop. And my supervisor says how is it stressful LMAOOOOOO I wanted to kms bruh. But that same manager turned out to be really cool. I secretly like seeing others stressed out on the job bc why the fuck am I seeing people chilling tf out on the clock? Are they getting paid to bullshit? And that's from the supposed hardest department yeah that's cap bruh lol. Fuck it tho. I just hate to feel like I'm one of the few who busts their ass. You know who has it hardest? The cart pushers!! They work in the fucking heat bruh. The cart pusher wears a hat to deal with the heat lol not a basic hat I mean those hats that look like a UFO. I hope he gets paid well for his troubles. Probably not tho. Nobody does except managers but I guess they earned it since they climbed the ladder and have greater responsibility. So hey I guess that's fair when I put it like that. Anyway I'm out of things to say I'm beat from today I'm tired.. have a good night yall.

[signalwatch]

Hallmark Holiday Watch: Lucky Christmas (2011)

Watched:  12/10/2022

Format:  Peacock (apparently now carrying old Hallmark movies...)

Viewing:  First

Director:  Gary Yates

So, did I watch this 11-year-old, largely forgotten Hallmark movie because it stars Elizabeth Berkely, she of Jessie Spano of Saved by the Bell fame?  

Buddy, you know I did.  

Let's get to it. 

Is the movie good?  No.  

Is it Berkley's fault?  In no way.  She's doing what she can here.

Oh, Jessie Spano.  Continue to lecture me on global warming or whatever.

For a Hallmark film, this thing is wildly convoluted, depressing in many ways, and features two of my least favorite tropes when it comes to character.  But it's also one of those movies where coincidence plays a factor in an un-fun way.

The basic plot:  Berkley is a would-be chef and single mother who rents a room in a nice house somewhere in the greater Detroit/ Ann Arbor area.  She seems to have been a private chef who just was let go.  At Christmas.  But she has dreams of (gestures generally at food.  It changes 3-4 times in the movie).  Somehow she can't find work in a kitchen, which...  I don't believe it.  And seems to apply for hostess jobs?  She is 35 if she's a day  Like - I don't know shit, but I know that seating people is not the same as catering and cooking work.  I don't think the people who made this bothered to talk to anyone in food.

Berkley plays the same lotto numbers every week, and then kisses the tickets.  This time, she wins!  But between buying the ticket and winning, her car is stolen by the worst character to ever grace one of these movies, and that is not easy.  

You see, our love interest is a guy named "Mike" and his friend "Joe" sux.  Sucky Joe is living on Mike's sofa because his girlfriend just booted him, and we can *immediately* empathize with the unseen, unnamed girlfriend.  

I'm not sure if the movie thought Joe was cute or funny or what.  But - as I mentioned - this movie contains a trope I hate.  And it's having a friend to our sympathetic lead who is just an absolute piece of shit.  Sometimes that friend is dumb.  Sometimes they're a criminal.  It's too enable the movie to have a catalyst for bad behavior but not put the blame on the hero.  The *problem* is that the hero then just seems like a doormat enabler who can't find a spine for 2/3rds of the movie until someone like Sucky Joe finally does something so shitty Mike here has to cut him off (in the right movie, Joe dies badly).  But Sucky Joes are often redeemed by some clumsy but kind act so we see they had a bit of growth or character arc, and we're supposed to forgive them for their dipshittery.  

I hate this.  I hate it so much.  I've turned off so many movies that relied on this trope.  And had Elizabeth Berkley and her giant eyes not been in this movie, there is no world in which I would have soldiered on otherwise.

Anyway, Sucky Joe finds Berkley's keys where she dropped them and - fully intoxicated - takes her car, piles in an unwitting Mike and drives he and Mike home.  (RED FLAG RED FLAG!  Dump him, Mike.) 

Berkley learns she has won a million bucks, can *prove it* and tells the press, and Joe finds the ticket and assumes he'll walk into the lottery commission and not get arrested for stealing the car and fraud. 

Joe just sucks so bad.  And Mike isn't much better.

   shut up, Mike.  You are not worthy of Ms. Berkley and her cool million.

The second trope (or whatever) is that Mike basically stalks Elizabeth Berkley to try to figure out what to do and lies his ass off for a 2/3rds of the movie, all but bedding Berkley under false pretenses.  It's...  such a gross and morally bankrupt meet cute.  If your friend told you that they'd been dating someone for a while and just found out the person had lied about something huge, and it was part of how they'd met the guy - you would be advising them to get out of the relationship.  Massive, flapping red flag.    

Somehow we're supposed to root for Berkley and Mike to get together, but... no.  I don't care that he's a nice guy who wants to build eco-friendly housing.  You either come clean at the outset or you lose.  It doesn't even matter that you wanted her to have the million if you don't come clean. None of this is cute.  It's gaslighting and disturbing (flap flap).

The million bucks would clearly fix a ton for Berkley, and so there's absolutely tension there.  It's just weird the movie decided that the guy doesn't just slip her an envelope any of a 100 different ways.

She does have a son, and there's a *lot* about him "missing" his dad, but we're also told his dad scooted when he was a baby, so I'm not sure what he's missing.  Maybe imagining having a dad, but it seems like Berkley literally shares a room with a kid she can't have a conversation with and... it's dumb.  It's bad writing.

Moving on:   somehow Berkley's son, who is maybe 10 in this film and acts like he's 8, has the voice of a two pack a day smoker.  He's a fine kid actor, but it's WEIRD to hear this kid talking about his superhero toys with a deep baritone.  

We make fun of how bland the dudes are in Hallmark films, but for some reason on this one they went for an *actor*, and Jason Gray-Stanford is a decent actor.  He's got a truckload of credits on imdb, you've seen him before in at least 7 things.  But he's also a weird pairing with Berkley.  He's not the usual handsome leading man, but that's okay.  IF HE WEREN'T LYING NONSTOP.

It's possible this movie, minus Elizabeth Berkley, isn't very good.  But it's also the first writing effort by the screenwriter.  The director did a bunch before and after so blame that guy, I guess.  

Anyway.  Here's to Jessie Spano in a Hallmark movie.  

https://ift.tt/AEvVcG4

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/TW6bE1i

[melrosing]

ok I'll share. I've been avoiding barbie conversations online (as much as that was even possible to do) bc I didn't want to get spoiled but the vibe I was getting was that it was going to be a film that might have been somewhat fresh in like 2012 but in 2023 it's just a repetition of all the conversations we've been having over and over throughout the fourth wave. and yeah that's exactly what it was.

like first of all I really don't buy this retroactive notion that Barbie was this paragon of feminism for little girls who have all become disillusioned since, like I ALWAYS felt alienated by the barbie brand as a kid, even as a skinny white girl, and every time I was gifted one of those dolls it was a reminder that this is what I as a girl was supposed to like and was supposed to be like, and that nobody seemed to care much if that wasn't me. the fact that they introduced Career Barbies and whatever else in the 2010s in an effort to appeal to modern sensibilities means nothing to me, it's just marketing. if they didn't think it would make profit, make the press, they wouldn't have done it.

so the brand just feels like entirely the wrong vessel for a feminist manifesto, and the manifesto itself is just so stale. like 'imagine if girls had the same jobs as men!'/'who cares if you have cellulite!'/'aren't boys boring sometimes!' like uh huh okay!! you got anything else?? I don't expect barbie to start speaking on abortion rights but from a director like greta gerwig I sure expected something more cutting than what we got, which was almost like an introduction to feminism to those who'd never heard of it

and I know Greta Gerwig is capable of greater subtlety and nuance than this so I assume that at least in part this was down to the fact that the whole film was an aggressive marketing vehicle for Mattel. and also chanel and chevrolet apparently?? like these brands stuck out like a sore thumb in a film that was pretending to be above all that, but the presence of Mattel throughout was just especially uncomfortable, like they joked about it being a male dominated company whilst flogging its wares through a feminist parable, and the 'sell sell sell' messaging just felt weirdly contrary to what the film seemed to claim was its heart, which is 'you can just be you without all the baubles' or whatever

and I think ultimately it didn't have anything to say that hadn't been said more articulately a hundred times over, in films that don't contradict themselves throughout. there was probably a good film in there that could've been made without Mattel glaring over everyone's shoulders, instead critiquing the Barbie brand's hollow pretences at feminism and white girlboss feminism more generally. or they could have just made a fun film about barbie, because the music and dancing was mostly great. but instead we got this which is pretending to be both and achieving neither and I really hate to be a killjoy but I just. really resent films as tawdry as this repeatedly placing at the forefront of the conversation around feminism, we need to stop having the same discussions over and over, and the only reason we are is because these are the easier conversations that are simple to sell. the more complicated shit is harder for brands to grapple with, and I am sick of brands being placed at the centre of debate on pressing social issues!!!

so idk what i was really expecting from a film called Barbie but in short I wish we could stop pretending it's something that it wasn't. everyone suddenly embracing the barbie brand and barbie nostalgia because they've decided it's feminist now just feels Bad

sitting on unpopular opinions about the barbie movie

[bixbiboom]

[ID: A total of eight tweets from Taliesin Jaffe @.executivegoth which together read: “2020 is almost over and I feel I have something to get off my chest: I didn't get better. I didn't get healthier in mind or body. I didn't create, I didn't grow, and I didn't accomplish. It's fair to say I'm less together than I was this time last year by almost every metric. But I DID survive. and you know what? I'm happy to come to terms with that. Survival is absolutely enough. I'm learning to be more than good with that and I feel like you should be too. Seriously, well fucking done. I've many friends who've made huge strides. Solitude has given them time to accomplish goals of self improvement, creative output, or career advancement. Sometimes all three. THANK THE GODS. We're going to be relying on healthy people in the months ahead. Some friends have dealt with so much. Loss of health, loss of family. Some have slipped back into bad habits, or lost employment. And these experiences just WRECK you. I worry for friends in film, games, STEM, public service. Hell, friends who lost jobs at Disneyland. it's awful. Almost universally, these amazing people beat themselves up for lamenting their own pain when so many others are doing so much worse. It so hard for us to remember that neither success nor failure are a contest. Most people can't even agree on how to measure these concepts. As for next year; I've always hated the metaphor of the light at the end of the tunnel. Most change I've experienced in my life didn't happen in a day, and when it did it was usually less life altering then the change that took months. The road ahead is long. We're gonna need marathon runners, not sprinters. Accept help when offered. Offer help when (and only when) you have the bandwidth. We need you healthy. I've seen in my own life how much greater a force for good I can be when I have my shit kinda together. The real change I've observed in my life is less like a tunnel and more like a car heater. You turn it on and wait patiently to slowly feel your fingers. With that said, Happy New Year everyone, just two more months of winter. Let's get this '88 Corolla engine of a year idling.” /end ID]

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Innocence is Bliss

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x reader

Summary: Just some headcannons of how Fez might be with an innocent reader.

Warnings: Literally none, like one swear word maybe.

A/n: I loved writing this and this was also based on multiple requests!

(I'm dying over this gif)

- Fezco was never allowed to be a kid.

- He had greater responsibilities to deal with from a young age between taking care of his grandma, taking care of Ash, and running a successful drug running business.

- He liked his success but he always felt like something was missing.

- When he met you, he was obsessed. Obsessed by your beauty, your gentleness, the way your eyes lit up when you saw a baby or a small animal. You were so utterly wholesome and he needed and craved you.

- He was a bit worried about how you would act in his world with all of the violence and scary situations. You didn't seem like the type to be able to stomach half of the conversations.

- You would reassure him for days and days on end that he didn't need to push you away just to keep you safe. You didn't mind what he did and you would do anything just to be with him.

- He would say you were a bit ignorant when it came to the nature of his job and the people involved. You liked to play devils advocate and see things from all sides.

- Though he appreciated your kindness and open-mindedness, he worried that it might get you into trouble down the line.

- He didn't want you to think that everyone had a soft side like he did because he didn't want you getting hurt.

- Granted, his soft side really only came out around you.

- You always knew he would protect you no matter what happened, but you knew that he worried about your safety.

- You would try to do everything in your power to keep your head down and not get involved in things that didn't concern you.

- He had told you the stories of Mouse and, specifically, that one night with Rue.

- You saw the fear in his eyes when he told you about him drugging her, how he tried to take advantage of her and Fez had to pay him off.

- That's when you made the decision to stay out of it all together.

- He appreciated your change of heart, feeling better and more comfortable knowing you were safely tucked in his bed the whole time he would have people over for deals.

- You and Ash differed on one thing though and it was constantly an issue that was brought up in the household.

- You hated how quick Ash jumped to judge people and beat the shit out of them. You found yourself sticking up for people that probably shouldn't have your support in the first place.

- Fez and you both knew that Ash would do anything to protect the both of you but sometimes he just went too far for your liking.

- Fez liked how soft you were, finding comfort in your gentle voice. He would lay in your arms for hours just to listen to you speak softly, telling him about your day.

- You contrasted so differently from his day to day life and he realized soon after he met you that you were the thing that was missing from his life. He needed more of you.

- You reminded him that he didn't need to be so tough all the time, that he didn't need to have this short fuse.

- That he could relax for a bit and not focus on all the shitty things that were going on around him.

- You wanted him to have a few minutes a day of just pure calm. Whether it be in your arms, laying next to you in bed, curled up on the couch, or wrapped in each others arms in the shower.

- You stabilized his life a bit, helping him see the good things in the bad, something he never was allowed to do since he was a kid.

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

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e Euphoria Taglist: @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel @rosepetalsparks@bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx Fezco Taglist:@fudgemesteveharrington @hy-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13 @squishiejiminiee

[docholligay]

For what it's worth, the traits that make you mean and snappy sometimes are traits I admire about you, even if they cause you trouble in moments like these.

Oh yeah, I definitely am not sitting here thinking I'm a useless sack of shit or something--I save THOSE for feelings for losing my headphones (!!!!) and leaving my fucking vintage sweater on a train in the UK (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH lost forever I'm so mad STILL at myself). I have some gifts, and some, uh, less gifts, and while I continue to work on myself, I am, sometimes, going to fail. I know that.

Hilariously, I came home and told my mom the whole story, upset and frustrated with myself, and she related a story from that same day where she was frustrated and angry with herself for NOT popping off, for being an appeaser instead of standing up. We ended up laughing about "Oh if only we could have switched bodies in the moment!" I am GREAT at being the confronter, great at laying it down. I am pretty much the heavy when one is needed. I've confronted dudes in bars, I've asked people to shut their music off, I just have that certain quality of aggression and shamelessness that the world can hate all it wants but sometimes I'm needed.

BUT, I can hold that, and like myself, and appreciate that I can be very brave, and honest, and all that shit, and also be like "goddamnit I wish I were a more peaceful person by nature"

A lot of what frustrated me was I WAS SO CLOSE TO DOING A GOOD JOB. It was defeat snatched from the jaws of victory, and I won't get that moment back, and I'm so fucking annoyed that I couldn't keep it going JUST a little longer. I try not to keep rethinking it because it's unhelpful, but MAN, I was being patient and understanding and really using reflective statements to make her feel heard and then I just...the timer on my "Doc is willing to take some bullshit for the greater good" alarm went off, and I FLUBBED IT. It was like losing my half to mike by a handful of seconds, I could have screamed or cried because I knew it happened the moment I did it. I failed myself as much as anything, and I failed a way she could have thought about things, and while I was really upset about it last night, in the clear light of day, it's just a lesson.

And, you know what? I kept that calm, kind, reflective conversation for a lot longer than I would have been able to in the past! So, I mean, victories were had, too. I'm a work in progress, and progress is not perfection.

[shoezuki]

expand on literal angel of death au immediately or i will combust (please)

ANON IVE BEEN THINKING AND I DIDNT INTEND THIS TO BECOME AN ACTUAL AU BUT. HERE WE ARE HUH

anyways. ideas. i was actually like thinking of an indie game i wanted to replay called death and taxes. although im So Sure next to no one is gonlike. know that gamek jhslgh. but its Kinda still based round that.

so: philza is an angel of death. but the idea of death is nowhere near what youd think. no heaven or hell really. the closest thing to it is. an office building. 

Death aka. kristin is like the ceo and she can see infinitely into every mortal’s life and she’s eternally existing and has the ability to see into the future, the past, and any possible timelines the world will go down. and sometimes mortals need to die. 

its not malicious of her and its no ‘for the greater good’ type thing. its to keep. like. to keep things normal. whether its something extremely small like some dude hs to die or he’ll step on a plant that wouldve Maybe produced a lot of oxygen in the future, or a guy has to die otherwise he’ll take over entire countries and will lead to the world’s destruction. 

So death finds these cases, considers some cases where something could Result from some deaths, or maybe not. and these ‘angels’ choose which they believe is the most important or will have the most/least impact. cuz thats a LOT of shit for her to sift thru yknow n like so these angels can choose if that one guy chokes on his food, or if that Particular Tree goes up in flames. the nature division hates their jobs

but sometimes. people just Wont Die. 

it can take a few times like. a few papers written and reports filed. but in REALLY special cases. the ‘angels’ gotta get out there and Deal with it. 

most angels dont wanna do this because theyre all assholes and ‘too good’ for goin back to mortal planes n shit. but PHILZA. phil is ALWAYS the one kristin sends out. 

phil jus like. he likes that shit. not the Killing part always but whatever thats just a chore like. not bad not good its just. death. and sometimes on these Tasks he takes months or years or decades because it can be Delicate Work okay. and so what if he makes a house to himself and journey’s the world and makes friends and just Lives down there. he always kills em in the end

He gets tasked to go kill technoblade. he wasnt actually the first one given this job. but no one could do it. theyve been trying to kill him for Years practically since he was born. somehow someway he always just. steps out of the way. whether its skilled assassins who Conveniently mistake him for someone else or even a starved pack of wolves where they dont even naturally live. he just Wont Die. 

But Whatever phil goes out and this kids kinda funny. piglin dont usually make much of an impact especially in the overworld so thats notable. he doesnt know What exactly techno will do thats So Influencial he has to Die. they arent given that information. but it MUST be Something. at some point he wonders if kristin jus hates that hes avoided death so long but nahhhhh cmonnnnnn

but like. phil watches this kid a bit. maybe round when hes in his teens or something. and hes FUNNY and interesting and for once phil doesnt fuck off to build a house because hes bored. 

he watches techno fight tooth and nail in combat, taking anyone on, being awkward and uncomfortable without sword in his hands at any point in time. he sleeps with a knife in his hands and barely speaks a word to anyone and keeps more room for books in his traveling gear than food. Phil sees him free a remote village from their oppressive upper class one day and then the next day he follows cool animal tracks into the forest and gets so fucking lost and phil is like okay yea im keepin this one. 

phil Somehow Someway gets himself to meet techno organically. no words of who he is or What he is. sometimes people whisper of him as the ‘angel of death’ and rumours that he has lived for eons but no one knows how Literal it is. 

next thing they know they are forming a mock empire and fucking with entire countries by taking over entire continents and phil is having a blast. death is kinda like ‘yeah okay that is funny.’ and is all ok babe have fun :) as if they arent supposed to kill technoblade