#and im entitled to my own judgement

[nartml]

"I don't like wolfstar—"

"Sasusaku are my otp—"

"THW was the perfect ending—"

"Hisoka is so hot—"

"TPW was exploitative and incredibly harmful—"

"Coho is such a great writer—"

"Taylor Swift could write Shakespeare but Shakespeare couldn't write folklore—"

"Opinions can't be wrong—"

"[insert every other horrendous take I've ever heard]"

Shhhh shh shhhh, nobody asked for your irrelevant thoughts go away

[archie-sunshine]

..... They live in a desert so they don't end up hurting random humans if the base gets attacked......

It's kind of stupid to try hiding in the middle of the city when the decepticons don't care if they kill humans.....

It is just easier to hide in a desert less chance of getting spotted, especially by a group, and if they do get spotted, someone could just chalk it up to Mirages.

As for the nose thing, their robot aliens, they shouldn't resemble humans, i agree that arcee looks waaaay too human like. And why the heck is prime so snatched???? From a battle standpoint, he's too damn top heavy to fight,

The being said, your point is still very valid they focused far too much on the bots rather than the background. It really could have used more interactions between the characters it later did with the cons but not so much with the autobots

first of all this askbox isn't an open invitation to argue with me

second of all i do not care if it makes sense from a worldbuilding perspective, you can do noseless designs and not have their faces look flat and uninteresting. i understand, limitations of the medium, art is subjective, I think all of these things that you may not think, we can all live together in harmony, i don't think that world building can make up for every design shortcoming.

visually, i dislike how it looks, simple as that. and that's what matters. if i look at something and go 'that looks kinda weird' in a design, thats not a judgement of the authors who wrote why it looks weird, its a judgement of the design team and limitations of medium.

i understand why it makes sense they live in a desert. they go to the north pole to fight or walk or talk in a featureless flat white wasteland. they go to the big scary space station to walk on a grey featureless expanse of outer plating. they go to greece to fight in a featureless museum parking lot. do you see what im getting at here?? am i making sense? and again, narratively, of course it makes sense why they've gone to these places, but the worldbuilding and the plot doesnt make up for how goddamn bored i am when i watch a 'spectacle fight' in another featureless plane.

everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and this is mine. no amount of lore information being given is going to make me not go 'yeah but it looks dumb'.

if you want me to rewatch tfp send me 500 dollars and I will rewatch it and finally actually finish it this time. otherwise i will not be changing my opinions at this time.

[bonefall]

im rereading the new prophecy (well re-skimming because wow its boring) and every time brambleclaw talks about how much he wants to like. slap squirrelpaw.... he's so nick dunne. someone just needs to gone girl him and maybe then he'll behave.

Idk what Nick Dunne is but I know I am nick DONE with Brambleclaw by the end of TNP

I really cannot stand him and Crowpaw all through TNP, they both frustrate me to no end. Every time I revisit the arc I desperately want both of them to be quiet. The whole thing feels like a story about how Brambleclaw has horrific judgement of other people and should never be given power ever again

Y'know, there's a scene from one of the oft-forgotten app-exclusive scenes that I think is really interesting. "After Sunset, the Right Choice".

This part, where he's talking to Leafpool about being deputy and everything that's to come,

"I can try as hard as I like, but I'll never do anything right," Brambleclaw growled, and Leafpool was startled by the bitterness in his voice. "I will bring nothing but trouble to ThunderClan because I was made deputy when I shouldn't have been. My Clanmates didn't trust me before: Now they will blame me for everything that goes wrong, every drop of blood that is lost. Whatever I do, I will destroy my own Clan from within." The blood roared in Leafpool's ears, and her eyes were dazzled by the red glow of the setting sun as it turned the lake crimson. Brambleclaw's words didn't sound like a threat: They sounded like a prophecy.

It IS a prophecy. A self-fulfilling one. He shouldn't BE deputy and he knows it and he correctly identifies that he will be blamed for what goes wrong in the Clan.

But what he doesn't realize --what he's fundamentally incapable of identifying-- is that this is because he can't trust others, and that makes him UNABLE TO BE trusted in turn.

Unable to accept responsibility but keeping power he knows he should not have, regardless.

The problems he will be 'blamed for' stem from the fact he is NOT a capable leader to begin with. That he constantly PUTS that blame onto other people, usually Squirrelflight, for breaking his horrible decisions. That he lashes out and hurts others whenever he's feeling hurt, acting entitled to the respect his position gives him while bemoaning that it also comes with extra scrutiny.

In the very first sentence, he admits that there isn't a point to trying hard, because he truly believes that the Clan won't even care when he DOES do something right.

I just wish the narrative actually leaned into this and admitted Bramblestar is neither noble, nor honorable.

[radibutch]

Marital Rape, Entitlement, and the Myth of the Repressed Male

I'm reading Intimate Matters: a History of Sexuality in America by John D'Emilio and Estelle B. Freedman for my capstone project, and I'm frankly blown away by the depths of misogyny reached in parts of this book. Under the cut, I've quoted a passage from chapter 8, "Civilized Morality Under Stress," and given my response to it.

CWs for marital rape and rape apologism.

Most women felt less sexual desire than their husbands, and in the Mosher study, many described their "ideal habit" as involving less sex than they had. As one woman born in 1878 told Mosher, she did not find sex agreeable, yet had intercourse two to three times a week because her "husband's pleasure demands it and therefore [she] prefers to want it herself." [...] Another woman [...] had been badly disappointed by her husband's sexual demands. Throughout their sixteen-year marriage, she had acquiesced to intercourse more frequently than she cared to have it. The result was that she did not find sex agreeable and encapsulated male character by saying that "men have not been properly trained." Although her own experience in marriage makes this woman's judgement about men understandable, the deficiency did not lie in men's training as much as in the cultural prescriptions about male character. If the middle-class woman suffered from a tension between the inadequacy of her premarital instruction and the possibilities of the conjugal bed, her male counterpart found himself battered by the incompatibility of what he was told was his "natural" self and the ideals expected of a husband. Late-nineteenth-century commentators, both professional and lay, described men as assertive, aggressive, and impassioned, with a physiology and character that was, by nature, "more or less explosive." Such untamed energy had value in the world of work, though even there a man of integrity might strive to master his most unruly impulses. But, in the home, as husband and father, man's nature served him poorly, and he was expected to exhibit self-control and restraint. In short, the middle-class man was a personality divided against itself. --- Intimate Matters: a History of Sexuality in America, John D'Emilio and Estelle B. Freedman, third edition, pp. 176-179

-----

"Prior to the 1970s, marital rape was legal in every US state." (wikipedia)

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"10. The worst thing about male violence is that it makes men look bad.

11. Whatever women suffer from, it is worse when it happens to men.

12. Women’s ability to recognize male behavior patterns is misandry." ("The Rules of Misogyny")

----

Honestly, there's so much pure misogyny in this quote that I'm having trouble even knowing where to begin. I think I'll move sentence by sentence through the passage, and then zoom out to make some broader observations. Bear with me, as I'm thinking my way through this as I write.

What is "marital rape," anyway? According to the Indiana Coalition Against Sexual Assault (INCASA), "Marital Rape is the term used to describe sexual acts committed without a wife’s consent and/or against her will by the woman’s husband. He may use physical force, threats of force to her or another person, or implied harm based on prior assaults, causing the woman to fear that physical force will be used if she resists." So far, nothing in the passage from Intimate Matters (henceforth "IM") strictly, explicitly fits the definition of marital rape. However, I'd like to call attention to the wording used to describe the women's "consent" to the sex described. The woman from paragraph two of the IM passage is described as having "acquiesced" to sex with her husband, and the woman from paragraph one describes sex as being something her "husband's pleasure demands (emphasis mine)." Neither acquiescence nor cooperation with a demand (a demand against which she had no legal recourse; she could either agree to the sex or be raped in a more violent manner) sounds like enthusiastic consent to me. Furthermore, INCASA mentions societal pressure for women to have sex as a facilitator of marital rape:

Stereotypes about women and sex such as women enjoy forced sex, women say “no” when they really mean “yes,” and it’s a wife’s duty to have sex continue to be reinforced in our culture. Such stereotypes mislead men into believing they should ignore a woman’s protests. These stereotypes also mislead women into believing they must have sent the wrong signals. Women blame themselves for unwanted sexual encounters, believing they are bad wives for not enjoying sexual encounters, or believing they are bad wives for not enjoying sex against their will.

"Women blame themselves for unwanted sexual encounters, believing they are bad wives for not enjoying sexual encounters," and yet this fact is unaccounted for in D'Emilio and Freedman's analysis of these women's responses in IM. Nowhere are the encounters in chapter 8 of IM referred to as marital rape, and the authors even go on to make excuses for the rapist.

Apparently, these husbands were so "battered" by the pressures of their patriarchal society that they simply had to rape their wives. They may even have felt guilty about it. This guilt was, apparently, not strong enough to prevent "sixteen years" of repeated marital rape. If the man felt such strong conflict, he would have stopped.

If the middle-class woman suffered from a tension between the inadequacy of her premarital instruction and the possibilities of the conjugal bed, her male counterpart found himself battered by the incompatibility of what he was told was his "natural" self and the ideals expected of a husband.

This sentence in particular enrages me. It portrays the discomfort and guilt of a conflicted identity with the psychological and physical torture of rape. The message is clear: men's hurt feelings are as significant as women's rape. I can't find the words to describe my disgust.

[kendrixtermina]

I've been thinking about it time & again, turning & turning it around in my head - like, even going back to some thoughts I'd had before this particular case, to make sure I'm not bending my morals here & being the worst kind of asshole. It's actually been nagging at the back of my mind since these ideas first became mainstream in the early 2010s.

But I just can't square it with my conscience to treat a miscommunication the same as, like... I've read many stories with with violence, threats or coersion.

Or even emotional manipulation, entitlement or pushyness.

I was thinking about this with the Melanie Martinez case, and that one's worse cause she was pushy & other people who consensually slept with her confirm that she could be pushy & insistent. But that's also a situation where she walked away with the belief that the other girl was simply convinced & agreed.

And in the story with Flake there wasn't even convincing.

It's so easy to say "if you really cared you'd notice". Lots of people are just really passive in bed. Some men hate it, some ask you to lie still - people might misread signs while drunk & that's why you (as in, the initiator, not the girl) should be careful with how much you drink.

But it just isn't the same. I can't call it the same word.

Threats, violence or even entitled demanding require a huge level of disregard of another person's autonomy & personhood.

A misunderstanding like this, however, or the person having conflicting feelings... It seems like it could just happen to anyone!

Could it happen to me? I hope not, of course. I do all the stuff you're supposed to to avoid it. But I'm not perfect. Hetero women may think they'd never be the one misreading stuff unless they actually mean to assault someone since in present society men usually do the initiating, but as one of those pesky bisexuals, and just someone who believes the best way to avoid becoming blinded, sanctimonious or entitles is to be aware of your own capacity for mistake or evil, I don't want to assume that I'd always get everything right because "im one of the good ones".

No one wants anyone to have an experience like this girl did, or at least i dont, & stuff like education on communication & consent & when-in-doubt-check-in-and-err-on-the-sage-side and centering mutual pleasure instead of the lock/key bullshit is so important. I'm FOR that. I WANT that. I don't consider this okay, or no big deal, or made up. I want a world where that doesn't happen insofar as the imperfect instrument that is human judgement can prevent it.

But how do we make it the standards, how do we promote it? I don't think declaring it rape, thereby putting it on the same level as Cosby, Weinstein or Trump stuff is the way.

I have never believed in "deterrent by harsh punishment to protect people" or "if you don't wanna be punished just don't misbehave" to dismiss fears of unjust or capricious punishment in any other context. I don't believe it when it comes to government spying. I don't believe it when it comes to death penalty. It's authoritarian. Not everyone who professes to be scared of false punishment or how anyone could just make up whatever about what their inner feelings were is just looking to excuse rape; there's insecure young men who are just afraid of messing up. (or heck, queer people, with how their attraction is often portrayed as predatory)

I 100% agree with the goal of minimizing "i felt I had to go along"/"just let it happen" type experiences as much as possible, but the question is how?

like crimes don't exist objectively; they are defined by people with the goal of creating good social incentives. We define and re-define crimes through history, and I'm no longer sure these recent pushs for redefinition have been a constructve ones.

With someone who would deliberately disregard the will of others, that's someone who probably won't engage in good faith & rarely changes their way; In that case, ostracism hammer is merited - they can't be convinced so they must be cut off from victims.

But communication fail isn't like that; those may be people who generally care & are willing to adjust behavior and the threat of the full punishment/ostracism hammer at the slightest misjudgement is more likely to drive them into the arms of extremists or grow resentful & isn't conducive to a working society.

You can't have safety guidelines too clunky to actually use or they will get ignored. It's like abstinence education or red tape. Drunk fucking (not unconscious but responsive/awake) will always happen; nonverbal initiation of sex will always happen. Most times all participants are happywith it.  And we saw in some of the Till stories that even a consistent habit of always asking "should we do this, should we stop, are you sure etc" all the stuff you're rightfully supposed to do to make the chance of it as low as possible, doesn't prevent some people having conflicted feelings or "going along".

I mean, I'm not doubting the girl's experience at all or dismissing the reality of her pain. but it's possible to feel shitty about an experience or find it traumatic without anyone having done a crime to you. What ppl find traumatic can be so subjective, and being dissappointed in how you reacted doesn't mean the other person automatically gets all the blame cause they cant read your mind. They did not "make you" be silent or give indication that they wouldn't listen, so how are they completely to blame?!

Like I realize this cannot be up to the perps, lots of indisputable rapists will say shit like how she "secretly wanted it". - if a girl says she said no, I believe her unless there is a track record of her making random shit up in the past. But if she explicitly says that she didn't say no or give any sign of distress, I see no reason to doubt that either & assume that her inner state "must" have been obvious.

The girl can't help having flawed messy human reactions either but like, will burning some guy on a stake make the trauma go away?

I just - I don't believe in fair world hypothesis and "if you do everything right no one ever feels hurt". I don't believe that doing your best will just automatically be good enough.

To be 100% clear: I don't blame the girl for feeling overwhelmed, but I also can't bring myself to blame the guy for misreading communication if she gives no indication of disliking what's happening. Or, like, both have nonzero responsibility (he should have verbally checked in and neither should have drank so much booze, for starters. ) but neither has full control of all the factors or can be exempted from human fallibility. Sometimes ppl mess up and it can't be 100% avoided & no one is the villain. People can only be judged based on the information they have, they can't be made 100% responsible for the inner state of others that they can't access if those others don't give indications of it. From today's perspective I can say he should have checked in verbally but I could not say that if I had not read about/been educated about why that can be so important/ how its common for ppl to not say anything etc. I might as well say "use a smartphone" to a person from the 90s.

I just can't bring myself to think that for this moment of misjudging her reaction, he's now the same as someone who would threaten another with a knife to get his way - it just seems too cruel to me.

It's unfair that she had a shitty experience, too. But I don't think shitty experiences could be 100% prevented even if no one on earth ever took the slightest lick of risk ever again, that's just outcome bias/ just world fallacy.

[dizzyaddy]

drowning - naruto x oc part 13

( i do not own any naruto characters, only the original characters)

“oh kami, i think im gonna be sick,” akimitsu said from behind me, the panic evident in his usually placid voice. i turned my head to catch a glimpse of him slightly hunched over, his hand now tightly clasping his mouth. shisori sat smugly beside him, rubbing his back soothingly while an expression of concern ran across her paled face.

“deep breaths,” she said with a soft voice, prompting me to roll my eyes and momentarily stop my rowing.

“we’re gonna reach the island in just a couple of hours. worst comes to worst, you vomit into the ocean. now pull yourself together, ōkī otoko,” i said plainly, turning my head back in front of me and picking up my rowing. my arms were sore and stiff, exhausted of this repetitive movement i had increasingly picked up the pace of over the past few hours, and my hands were starting to sprout blisters as the oar handles continued to rub then raw.

“i would like to, but it’s not that easy, lady kyō,” he said with a grunt before vomiting over the side of the boat with an explicit sound.

“you could have a little compassion you know,” shisori muttered under her breath, continuing to rub his back.

“we’re almost to our destination and you want me to have compassion? please stop humoring me, shisori,” i said plainly before hearing her groan in frustration.

“you always do this,” she said whilst crossing her arms. “kami forbid we aren’t perfect, unlike you.” she sneered.

“i’m not asking for perfection. please do not forget i only have one thing in mind, and that is this mission’s success. this is not the time for a teen romance,” i said sharply before slowing down my movements from exhaustion.

“you wouldn’t know anything about it, so stop speaking on things you know nothing of,” she replied just as sharp, as her voice grew in agitation. i closed my eyes and took a deep breath before turning my head slightly so i could see her from the corner of my eye.

“you are right, i know nothing of it. but this whole time while you two have been coveting? i’ve been doing all the work. i would like to trust tsunade sama’s judgment, but i can’t help but feel as if she has made a mistake making you come along,” i said passively before turning back around and picking up my rowing, ignoring the burning radiating from my hands.

“you know, i’m also having doubts about her judgement. because clearly she was lacking the words to explain that you are an entitled bitch,” she said with haste and venom, as if she had been itching to say it for some time.

“now shisori, i don’t think-“ akimitsu started to interject before he was interrupted by his own hiccup, to which he had to clasp his hand back over his mouth.

“if that is what it takes for you to grow up and simply do your job, then so be it. i have only asked of you to stop being a child and focus on your mission, and if that is too hard for you, then you have no business being a kunoichi,” i said as i furrowed my brows and gazed ahead of us. the crystalline sea reflected the sky above as a perfect picture was presented, the powdered and wispy clouds gracing us with their presence as if they were ancient gods directing us. the vastness of the sea would have been overwhelming if i hadn’t been so determined to simply reach our destination. as if right on que, i heard akimitsu vomit again behind me as i heard shisori’s now shrill voice try to comfort him.

the rest of the trip was held in a cramped silence, the two not interjecting once the rest of the way. i kept to myself and didn’t bother looking at either of them, continuing my rowing and only taking a break when i couldn’t go any further. eventually, after a dreadful few hours, we reached the island that had taken us a merely a week to come by. beyond a bank of powdered sand, there was a plethora of compacted, lush green trees that encased the rest of the island within its beauty. the clouds above had almost completely dissipated, leaving the abundant sunshine to be casted directly onto the flourishing land that was slowly coming into full view.

my heart was beating more than i would like to admit, as i felt my tiresome fingers twitch with excitement. i slowed my rowing and exhaled deeply upon acknowledging the divine sight, a sense of longing familiarity noticeably approaching me. it almost felt as if my breath had betrayed me and escaped from my lungs the longer i stared at the heavenly scene, completely mesmerized by the sight. ‘i wish sen were here to see this,’ i thought to myself as my eyes welled up with lone tears, and i felt a strong sense of pride course through me. pride in the irrevocable fact that this sacred land withholds my origins and clan secrets, both of which were arduously necessary for sen’s salvation. i inhaled a shaky breath before a foreign smile graced my lips, and i felt as if some of the weight on my chest had dissipated. i blinked away my tears before noticeably picking up the pace of my rowing.

“thank kami, about-,” akimitsu started saying before being interrupted by his own hiccup. “excuse me, about time.”

“what are we doing here again?” shisori asked with an edge present in her voice.

“you will see,” i replied nonchalantly, my lips slightly curling up upon hearing her groan in response.

the two continued to talk excitedly behind me while we rapidly closed in on the island, and i could barely contain myself. once we were close enough, i hopped out of the boat and nearly gasped as i felt the crystal cool water come up to my thighs, instantaneously soothing my tiresome limbs. i exhaled whilst looking down and watched in delight as the ripples in the water reacted to my touch, the clear liquid mesmerizing me. i told shisori to come out and she did so, but not without agitation of course. once she was in the water, we both grabbed each side of the boat and brought it onto the shore, leaving a slightly bashful akimitsu in its wake. i stepped on various sea shells along the way, each one digging into my foot, imprinting its existence onto me almost as a reminder. as i got out of the water, i slowly spun around as i took in the most ethereal view.

“i can see why this is in the middle of nowhere, it’s beautiful,” i heard akimitsu state, rising out of the boat wearily and balancing onto shisori’s arm, which she had kindly lended to him. after his feet had touched the powdered sand, he soon collapsed on his back. shisori had yelped in surprise, but he waved it off whilst stating that he felt much relieved.

“hai, untouched by any outside for centuries, or so they say,” i said before i dug my feet into the sand, searching the trees for any sign of an entrance, to which no avail. it seemed as if the forest was so dense and compacted on the other side, it would be nearly impossible to penetrate. nearly impossible, they say. i took a deep breath before i briskly moved closer to the wall and lied my sore hands flat against the natural structure. after a few moments of inspection, i slowly weaved my hands together and casted a few delicate hand signs, to which various roots and branches started to intertwine with one another. the sheer amount of how many trees there were was overwhelming, but as i closed my eyes, furrowed my eyebrows, and widened my stance, i focused on my breathing as i visualized what i was doing. under the canopy, through the trees, watching as they intertwine and weave. i could feel the vines and various limbs as if they were veins of my very own, each with a different purpose and each following the order i was rearranging them into.

whilst my eyes were closed and as i felt the trees moving with me, a certain visual had found its way beneath my eyelids. i saw a trail of fleeting gold, weaving its way through the bunch and going towards what seemed like the center. curious, i pushed myself a little further and followed this ephemeral trail. the parting of the trees quickened in pace the closer it got to following the gold, and right when the two were nearing a collision, the gold vanished. confused, i stopped my jutsu as i was certain there was something beyond where it led me. i opened my eyes to a view of compacted trees parted down the middle, and the trail that followed almost looked longer than the entirety of our trip.

“that was…,” shisori started to say, and i turned around to catch a glance of her taken aback expression before she spotted me and furrowed her eyebrows.

“that was amazing, lady kyō,” akimitsu intervened, propping himself up and making his way towards us. “i feel so much better! and to make it even more so, we are on a beautiful island! thank kami,” he exclaimed with wide eyes, taking in his surroundings with wonder.

“yeah yeah,” shisori said with a cross of her arms. “i guess it is pretty nice here, but then again, there’s a whole forest to which we know nothing of,” she finished.

“hmm, if only there was something we could do about that…oh wait,” i said teasingly and turned toward akimitsu. he replied with an “on it,” before he activated his byakugan and searched the surrounding woods. he took a minute to do so thoroughly before coming to the conclusion that it was just us on the island, and the native animals of course.

“okay, well that settles it. let’s scope the forest before we decide on where to set up camp,” i said before walking over and grabbing my bag out of the boat. my katana hung intimately on my hip, its being molded perfectly with mine. it was a gift from sen when i had gotten enrolled in the anbu a few years ago by lord hiruzen’s counsel, the blade still as sharp as ever. it was our mothers chosen weapon, a true embodiment of one fierce kunoichi, and was found in the wreckage of the nine tails attack. despite the carnage, sen thought it best to pass on the heirloom in tradition of wielding mighty swords within the clan, hence why she did it so early.

“kyō, do you know what this is?” sen had asked me one day after i returned from training. she had unsheathed the katana and it rested in both of her hands as she presented it to me, the light catching off of the blade. i cocked my head as my eyes went wide with the sudden realization.

“i-is that-?” i started to ask, but my words faltered upon seeing her close her eyes and gently nod. my jaw went slack and i was in a state of shock before reality dawned on me. i lowered myself down to my knees before i gingerly bowed before her.

“there is no need for such formalities, kyō,” she had said lightheartedly, motioning for me to stand again. i shook my head at her before rising to sit comfortably on my knees.

“sen, you do not know how much this means to me,” i started to say before she smiled down wistfully towards me.

“mother never got to formally pass hers down to me, and i believe you deserve it,” she said with a soft smile, the candles that surrounded us highlighting her beaming features in their soft glow.

“i believe you’re going to be the strongest of the clan, i can just feel it. so practice well and tread lightly as i’m sure one day, it will come in handy,” she had barely said before i attacked her with a hug. that night and the following few days, i had trained so intensely, my hands were blistered and raw, but they molded perfectly with the blade handle.

“i believe if we follow this trail, we will find what we came here for. i would suggest we go separate ways, but it seems as if my jutsu wielding is the only thing that will allow us to pass. keep in mind, i have no idea what this forest contains. so please, tread lightly, and be cautious in refraining from harming the life that is already present here,” i said before nodding toward both of them. they nodded back before the three of us retrieved the boat and brought it closer to the forest, to which we set it down and would leave it for later. after getting it settled, we made our way into the enigmatic forest.

upon first crossing the threshold, it felt as if the forest itself was holding its breath. it was an eerily quiet scene, with no birds or animals in sight, a stark contrast from the abundance of tranquil sounds heard from the outside. the only thing that could be heard was the mismatched footprints that were emitted from the three of us. akimitsu led the way, followed by shisori, as i took the rear. it felt as if the hair on my neck was raised, followed by a foreign tingling sensation, as if someone were standing right behind me.

“this is beautiful and all, but does anyone else get the feeling we’re being watched?” shisori asked with hesitance from in front of of me. right at that moment, we heard a loud sound coming from the right of us, to which she jumped at. i drew my katana as akimitsu instantaneously activated his byakugan, and only when he confirmed it was an animal, i saw shisori visibly relax.

“hai, i feel it too. stay on guard, and keep an eye out,” i said before the three of us proceeded with a more cautious stance.

despite the eerie atmosphere that accommodated the forest, it truly was a most beautiful sight. life sprung from every corner that was visible to the eye, and never in my life had i been surrounded by so much of it. i felt a small smile pull at my lips at the thought of how much raw potential this oasis held, and how powerful my ancestors must have been with it available right at their fingertips.

we walked for what seemed like a few hours, with shisori infamously complaining the majority of the time. the bright leaves and branches of various plants provided us with the upmost shade, for which i was eternally grateful for. clustered roots were omnipresent in correlation with our feet, which tangled about and tripped all three of us more times than we would like to admit. when i inhaled, it was as if i was breathing air that hadn’t been touched by the world outside. it hung so pure, so raw, and so full of life, i could feel it intertwining with the oxygen within me and becoming whole with me.

after awhile, we came to what looked to be a densely compacted wall of vines and trees, similar to the one that barricaded the perimeter of the forest. it seemed as if either way i looked, there was nothing i could see beyond or past this wall. i pushed past the two before me and gently put my palms against it as closed my eyes and was reminded of where i had envisioned the gold trail to end, which was right in front of us. i took a deep breath before i weaved a sign that should have separated the vines into two, leaving us with room to enter. but after i had casted my hand signs and focused my chakra on the task before me, i was taken aback at the sight of nothing changing.

“uhh what just happened?” shisori asked akimitsu in a hushed whisper, unaware of the fact that i could hear her perfectly. he put his hand up to her as to wane her towards patience before i tried again.

this time i tightly clasped my hands together as i widened my stance and furrowed my brow, my feet digging into the lush earth beneath me. i breathed deeply through my nose before i exhaled and casted my signs. this time i had extended more chakra to excrete and reverberate around me in hopes of my chakra getting through the thick barrier. alas, when i noticed nothing at all was changing other than the deterioration of my chakra levels, i let my hands go and sighed in frustration.

“akimitsu, don’t be shy,” i said almost sarcastically, prompting him to use his byakugan and search the blockade that stood in our way.

“kami, what is this…” he said to himself as his eyes widened upon the sight. i turned myself toward him and patiently awaited his conclusion.

“apologies, lady kyō, but it seems as if i cannot sense anything past this wall. it is made up of a highly dense and impenetrable chakra, and it is constantly being surged through the barrier to replenish itself as if it is cleansing its own wounds. it is truly strange,” he said with a hint of admiration.

“chakra?” i said with apprehension present in my voice. “can you see where it is coming from?” i asked, my voice strained. he replied with a “hai” before checking again.

“i cannot see where it is coming from, it is as if the chakra is in one big cycle, encasing this area within it. it flows like the ocean, simultaneously pushing and pulling. i cannot find a weak point or sense the origin,” he said.

“i don’t understand, why is there a chakra barrier in here and not protecting the island?” shisori asked from behind us.

“it is hard to say, but if i had to take a guess, i would owe it to the possibility of misdirection. if the entire island were covered in this barrier, then it would be an easy target,” akimitsu answered while deactivating his byakugan.

“hai. we may not know until we enter, which certainly seems to be a plausible obstacle. until then, you two rest up and make camp,” i said, watching the two deflate from fatigue as a look of relief came over them.

“you two can find a spot and set everything up, akimitsu make sure you conduct periodic perimeter checks. shisori,” i said while turning to both of them. “stay out of trouble, baka,” i said with the slightest of smiles. she jokingly rolled her eyes at me before the two turned to find shelter.

meanwhile, i turned back around and examined the thick barrier in front of me. i decided to try my jutsu one more time before i would initiate another strategy. clasping my hands together, i took deep breaths before weaving my hand signs and directing all my chakra towards parting the barrier. it proved to be all in vain as it refused to budge, my breathing ragged as i hunched over my knees. kami, if my jutsu won’t work, then what will? i thought it over a minute and regained my breath before i decided to lie my hands palm flat l against the wall as i closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. focusing on the nature around me, i could hear the weaving and intertwining of the vines that made up the barrier, and for a second it sounded as if it reacted to my touch. i squeezed my eyes as i breathed deeply and pushed my hands a bit further, to which the vines under my hands abruptly vanished and i fell through.

once i registered what happened, i swiftly pushed myself off of the plush ground and jumped to my feet. ‘i fell through?’ i thought to myself as i slowly looked at the scenery that encased me. stepping stones adorned the trail in front of me as far as i could see, and the same thick walls followed the trail as beautiful arches of multiple varieties of bright flowers lined them. stone bird baths sporadically decorated the sides of the trail as all sorts of native shrubbery complimented the well kept design. i steadied my balance as i took my first step toward the trail, which initiated the soft glow of a nearby lantern that hung from an arch. the sight brought a comfortable smile to my face as i observed it all in wonder, taken aback by the untamed beauty i never would have thought i would see. i took a deep breath as i prepared myself for what lies beyond before i took another step.

[thedroloisms]

Going from “I was shocked by abuse allegations involving biting” to “yea I did bite her but it was wasn’t that bad and I have the text proof of her consenting but I won’t post them for her own mental health” is certainly a choice

tbh i have some Thoughts on this + the reactions, so i'm throwing them under a cut

i mean, the question was never if she consented or not. she did say that she consented, but that he would frequently take it too far, and that he'd push things even when she safeworded when the whole point of the safeword was for her to establish a limit. that he'd say things about her pain tolerance and that he didn't bite down "that hard," and honestly i highly doubt that the exchanges they had when she safeworded were at all preserved through text messaging. just a thought. the main thing that could be perceived as a disparity between their two accounts is that shelby said that she brought up the biting to him multiple times as an issue that she had (what prompted the I Can't Change, This Is Who I Am iirc) while he's saying that his impression of the biting was that she always found it enjoyable and that he always thought that this wasn't an issue. that being said, i don't necessarily think that he's lying, per se - it's very possible that he did think that? we don't know what their conversations on the subject looked like, we don't know what their arguments on the matter looked like, etcetera. i don't exactly doubt him when he says that he didn't realize she was as deeply affected as she was, especially when she's talked about minimizing herself and her feelings and her discomfort on multiple occasions.

this isn't to diminish what shelby went through or experienced or said either - situations like this can be complicated perception-wise. a lot of the time, it can be hard to recognize the full extent of the harm when you're in the thick of it on both sides, which can allow for harmful patterns to continue. him being shocked at the allegation of abuse isn't...uncommon for a situation like this. a lot of people who act abusively don't exactly realize that.

i'll say that my immediate reaction to the statement was to cringe a little, i won't lie. i hardly think it's the Objectively Best Route to go about addressing a situation like this, necessarily, though it's not like i can sit here and preach about what the best route is either. i don't fucking know. i believe him when he says he's sought treatment and i can understand why he included it in this statement, but i don't necessarily think that much about it was that necessary. i understand his wanting to clarify his side of this, honestly, and the intentionality of his actions. i don't understand why people are inherently stating that his explanation of how he perceived the situation is a defense when he's stated, multiple times, that the feelings of the accusing party are valid and shouldn't be diminished. obviously, in an apology, it can be extremely grating to see someone say "i didn't mean it like that" and i understand people's frustrations 100% - again, my first reaction was definitely to cringe at that section of the statement. but a lack of intention to abuse doesn't mean that abuse didn't happen and the statement, while far from perfect, isn't rejecting the allegations against him. he's not defending himself and saying "it wasn't abuse, i didn't mean it!" his apology is to the person affected and while uh i don't necessarily think it's the best one possible, it does...like, exist. "i apologize" is an apology, frankly speaking.

honestly, i think people are entitled to make their own judgements here 100%. i'm not exactly impressed by the statement but when it comes to what he can say, i also acknowledge the limitations. i can't speak for his specific intent with the things he says, but i can understand, for example, the desire to tell people "hey im getting therapy" when theyre worrying that he's dangerous, just as an example. nothing he said has in any way changed my view on the situation according to how shelby described it, and i don't think much that he said was intended to be in any way a contradiction, either. as i've been saying, i think shelby deserves all the love and support, i think that wilbur should be taking a big goddamn break from social media while getting the help that he needs, i think that i personally have zero desire to watch him grovel for public approval while people on the internet flay him alive. that being said, i'm uh, not impressed with how many things i've seen about wilbur's statement that are ... just, objectively not. what he said. like at no point is he going "ohhh no i didn't abuse her :( i didn't mean to :(" when he was expressing his side of this and stating that what she said is valid and such. do i think that it was necessary to talk about how he believed it was playful and that he has text messages to indicate such? not really. do i think that overall, the statement skewed more defensive than i think is necessarily appropriate? yeah, for sure. do i understand, to some degree, what motivated him to say some of the things he said? yeah, honestly. and do i know what's objectively The Best Statement to make here? no! i don't! i didn't expect a statement at all.

like, at the end of the day, as much as i don't think his statement is great, i'm even less impressed with people's reactions, honestly. people are saying a lot of things and ascribing a lot of things to his statement that aren't. true. just because he said that he didn't mean to hurt her in that manner doesn't mean that he didn't do that, and doesn't mean that he's defending himself by saying he didn't do that, and the rhetoric i keep running into of "abusers are always intentional and know they're abusing someone when they abuse them" is honestly pretty damn harmful. stating that the lack of intentionality has to be a lie because if he's an abuser then he had to know what he was doing and was doing it On Purpose To Hurt Her Specifically isn't...great. and in general, when we're talking abt this situation in specifics i don't know how much of a benefit it is for people to be generalizing this into saying "oh all abusers-" especially when what they're saying about "all abusers" isn't even! true! for all abusers!

like at the end of the data there's no apology that would've been "good enough," really. no apology that would've erased the harm done. doesn't make this statement not bad, but there's no apology in the world that can turn back time and magically fix everything. there's only the moving forward, and moving forward i hope he gets the fuck off twitter for a good long while and works on himself and i hope that shelby gets to heal without this entire Situation breathing down her neck.

i don't want to be misconstrued, so let me just say it again: the statement sucked. i 100% believe shelby's account of events and wilbur's statement has changed nothing about how i view the situation. if anything, i think that the statement corroborates the details given. i think that the statement skews over-defensive and overemphasizes his reputation over the harm that he did, and that certain elements of it can be interpreted as defending himself, making excuses, or diminishing the harm he did. that being said, i think some people have taken this as an opportunity to spread rhetoric that can be harmful and you know, say a lot of stuff that i don't think he actually said in his statement. bad statement, but no twitter isn't winning this one either jesus. sometimes the best course of action is to support the people involved show them support and not get on the soapbox, you know? (i say, from on top of my soapbox. i know im a hypocrite lol.)

at the end of the day maybe my take on this is that if you mean wilbur, just say his name or make it clear that you're talking abt him specifically instead of generalizing about All Abusers [and then going on to say something that's not true for all abusers 😭] ... that's all.

anyway. that's enough from me. sorry for the essay LMAO

[khodorkovskaya]

thanks for sharing!

honestly this is so relatable. so for me growing up i was always taught (not explicitly but it was just the general vibe) that religious people are weird and stupid. like no one would ever openly say that, but it was often implied through jokes or like when someone would say that they were religious my family would give the side eye lol. and plus, yeah, its a government backed institution yikes.

and yet! i was baptised, we'd bake cakes for easter, when people would ask me what my religion was growing up id say orthodox, etc. like there was always this weird contradiction.

what you said about after school activities i also have a funny little story to share. so when i was 6-7 yrs old my parents signed me up for this like art club after school. and once this old lady showed up and started an embroidery club in the same classroom. and so when i got bored of drawing, i decided to go over to her and do embroidery. and i really liked it, so instead of sitting with the art club, id go to the emroidery lady.

and she was super religious and would always tell us stories about god. and i found it super annoying and in my head i was like "oof granny is loosing her mind". i specifically remember her telling us about the tower of babel and i sat there like "damn, she is so delusional". but i liked embroidery, so i stayed and didn't say anything.

and turned out, she was there illegally! she was this like orthodox missionary who snuck onto school properties to convert the kids. it was a huge scandal. so yeah, that incident made me even more prejudiced towards religious people. that and also the fact that my favourite book growing up was дорога уходит в даль, which is basically communist propaganda lol.

so yeah, it's strange. because whenever id go inside an orthodox church everything would feel so familiar and yet so foreign. i never felt like i belonged there and plus, as you said, no one ever explains to you like what to do or welcomes you in any way. like i don't want to sound entitled and im not saying that im owed anything, and maybe, hey, it's my own prejudice. but the only thing people tell you there is "we won't let you in dressed like that". and growing up it made me even more hostile. like i remember we went to visit a monastry in montenegro once and it was like 35 degrees outside and i was 12 and i was wearing shorts obviously. and like 3 people came up to me to tell me that im not allowed in. and i never got an explanation as to why. i mean yeah, modesty, whatever. but instead of being so judgemental towards a child, an explanation would be nice..? idk, that really put me off religion.

but then, here's the thing. when i was 14 i was being neurodivergent as usual and i got hyperfixated on religion. idk where that came from. but i told myself that i would research a new religion every week. so id borrow a bunch of books at the library evry week and i kept a journal detailing all my findings. i went to the lutheran church, i even found a hindu centre here and scheduled an appointment and borrowed one of their scriptures. like idk what was going on in my 14 year old brain but i was fearless and i would like show up to all these religious centres with my little notebook. and id even interview people... likeee.

anyway, one week i was researching orthodoxy. so again, i showed up to the orthodox church here, absolutely fearless, no headscarf, wearing my desigual jeans. and i went straight to the choir and asked if i could sing with them. i have no classical training in music btw, i know how to sing but like as a hobby, i know little to no theory. and, again, i don't know where this audacity came from, but i went straight up to the choir director and was like "im singing with y'all bitches". so i started going every sunday to sing, but id never stay until the end bc id get bored. and then i stopped all together after like maybe a year.

and again, i have no logical explanation as to why. i was just hyperfixated and decided that the church choir was my new thing. and i didn't make any friends there bc i was still prejudiced against religious people. i wouldn't pray, i didn't respect the dresscode. id just show up, not say hello to anyone, sing for like 30 minutes and leave. 💀💀 at that age i constantly felt like i was in some sort of bubble, like id always be half dissociating, id do things not understanding how or why, things would just happen, it was weird.

fast forward to this year, i went to church for easter with one of my friends just like to hang out. and i heard the choir for the first time in almost 10 years and fell in love again. i couldn't remember any of the hymns (probably because when i was 14 i was just so dissociated). but i was like i have to join again!

except now im more aware of my own surroundings and im more normal. so i didn't really know how to approach things. but i was like you know what, if 14 year old me could just show up and not explain anything to anyone, so can 24 year old me.

so the week after easter i came up to the choir director and asked if i could sing and she asked me if i was classically trained and i was like "oops no, but i sang with you guys 10 years ago". and then she asked me why i had stopped and i was a bit at a loss for words bc like idk why i stopped. and then i asked her what brought her here and she gestured at the ceiling. and that was our conversation.

and the thing is, now that im more aware and awake, singing there is even more fun. because i haven't read sheet music in 10 years. i didn't know i was capable of reading music. but i am! and it's this weird almost like spiritual feeling. because i look at the notes and even if ive never seen that particular hymn before, i know exactly what to sing. and my hand moves up and down and i nod to the rhythm. i don't know how, i don't know why i know all of these things, but i do. and it amazes me every time. like i look at something ive never seen before, but i can read it. idk how to explain this feeling. like imagine all of a sudden being able to read a foreign alphabet and you don't even know how you read it, you just do. it feels magical.

but yeah, i totally get what you say about churchgoers being mean. i always feel like an outsider or imposter in literally any social setting, so feeling like an alien at church isn't something that scares me. and i haven't talked to anyone there or made any friends. but just from the looks of it and the way people push and shove each other there like i can tell that i probably won't get along with any of them unfortunately. and there's always people shoving when queuing up for eucharist and there's always passive aggressiveness and everyone is always on edge. even in the choir like i rarely get the music sheets handed to me for some reason. like when they're distributed they often skip me and i don't understand why. it makes me feel like more of an impostor but tbh nowadays im so chill when it comes to self esteem i literally do not care. it's just annoying bc unless i literally grab the sheet out of the person's hand, i always have to look at someone else's. but yeah, little things like that give me the impression that the majority of people who go there are kind of mean.

and what you said about people all knowing each other is very true too. because literally everyone is always in their little groups. and if you're not childhood friends with someone, you can't make friends. again im neurodivergent so i just like struggle with making friends in general. but making friends at our church seems impossible. people are always huddling together and whispering and i just know i won't fit in. because at some point in their little conversations they always point at the ceiling and i just don't know enough about god or the church to be able to fit in with these sort of conversations, you know?

but anyway, as i said, i love going to church nevertheless. singing there makes me euphoric. i love the aesthetics, i love the drama. i love the over-the-top-ness of like people falling to their knees and crying and the priest talking about the devil. it's so cinematic, im obsessed. and if i don't "belong" there or if i don't have the right relationship with the church, so be it. i think it's better to look forward to church every week and to truly enjoy it, than to be mean and go there to ask for forgiveness 👀

@atomicanechka

[wishesofeternity]

what do you think of Rhaenyra?

from the books? I think she's overshadowed and underused in her own narrative because grrm is far too obsessed with her loser ass uncle/husband Daemon and has consciously or unconsciously made HIM the central character of the Dance, to the detriment of every other character. I also think the Blacks suffer because the Greens are not their enemies as much as they're caricatures, which weakens the conflict between the two and is pretty lackluster writing imo.

that being said, from the pieces you get of her, Rhaenyra is visceral in a way that Cersei is visceral, she's angry and raging and alive like wildfire. she's on the brink of greatness and glory but she's her own worst enemy, she's a terrible person and an incompetent tyrannical ruler. she's someone who walks herself to the edge of a burning chasm and thinks she's found gold. she's also someone who stares into the mouth of hell and refuses to flinch. she's bold and selfish, loving and hateful, proud and pathetic. she's hated by history, but she's also remembered, and that is a victory in itself. she's fascinating!

in the show? I see an echo of the character she COULD have been - a radiant bold anguished girl turned sharp and wild by the world she lives in, a world she both rages against and wants to rule, a world that will eventually devour her. but this means nothing because she's been declawed and defanged, she's become passive without any true agency. they refuse to let her be entitled, be selfish, be ruthless. she's just a bland generic badass who's wronged by her nasty enemies, and all her self-made problems are justified and/or solved by her indulgent father and her worthless husband. she's boring, and that's the worst thing a fictional character can be.

Rhaenyra is also framed as the enlightened sexually liberated feminist (she's the crown princess of a feudal society, give me a break) to Alicent's brainwashed consersative Madonna, which I completely disagree with because that's not the reading I have of their characters AT ALL, the idea that Alicent has any power over Rhaenyra is laughable, and it also has a potentially harmful and horrifying message, considering Alicent's experiences as a child bride and rape victim at the hands of Viserys, who is Rhaenyra's primary supporter and enabler, and how despite this they're very keen to hammer the fact that ALICENT is the one oppressing other women and upholding the patriarchy. That's all levels of problematic writing, and it's done with complete bias and worship towards Rhaenyra to the detriment of the female characters around her, which automatically makes me irritated with her. and it's not like Rhaenyra is given any agency, either. she's just...there, as a generic badass we're automatically supposed to root for. it's dumb and I hate it

(also: this is just my opinion based on what I've seen and watched, I'm not, like, passing eternal judgement on her and you can obviously view her differently) (im just clarifying this in case anyone takes personal offence to this answer because people in this fandom are insane)

[killerbabebunnykaazilove]

like me littles, like me scamp, like the tides in the water ive revealed and rebeled my vamps, bite reasons, bite... pant... the lower the levels the lower the tramps, i am says the man, i aint says the rants, and over and over again they tug at my tracks, exposure to dance, devoted and lapsed, devour this is thee, thus, trust hour, mask by mask.. im a family of secrets and those secrets just float, we dont fly, we wont die, unless given in to those homes who cant thought process the hyms jokes.. tradition calls for us, put together is what they ask, with combined each one has junked outs and prick trusts, and how if anytime could we come to forget? the way the hidden boi lover we both love to hump, fuck! yes! yumm, just tork the skill saw so i can afford this bill spawns, reel in conks, let her out of thyns trunks, grow grosser, closer, sweet reeping of what she knows jerks, of what shes held in her own blown first, no sir, sir? cloud those judgement who think it not right to hurt, cause little the lady princess, and her mommy the flirt is nothing but relentless, hex less and more about strick pests and why the honor, value, and moral codes is the chosen taught firsts.. each baby beasty, demon wing, children dragon "G", and angellic troubled "THING" could have been given to the card sharks down the street or the strapped up snake monsters that live out in front, but hell no, hades trusted the creations of the new world to our dirty minded fucks, cant you smell BRO? im doomed love. and the parental geminic ancesters blessed be thier omen touch have taught the bite mind and MR. TUX & PUFFIN.. the dooze BUGS, in trinned blood, how exactly the mam behind the written scribes like these, one by one, most of love thin and most the lust twins, puts in between shit so those who dont know cant see it and cant show more then a whole bank of nothins if tried to claim it up, down, west , east or brown cause in the endings my pimps on drugs.. you got to, have to, still find our one kin we still keep hid and threatened like a loose Mutt. JUST APPROVED ON WHATEVER THE FUCK SHE WANTS PLUS TIED TO HER TAIL SHE DRAGGS ALONG US, ALL THE BIGGEST BINDGERS ON THE LOOSEREST OF THUGS. :K!NG$ OR¥0N :K!NG$ JUHπK :K!NG$ T££DO :K!NG$ HO∆¶ AND LASTEST BUT NEVER LEASTEST :K!NG$ ¢HUπK.... and as e¥e the M£ × my •K°T•P8 ++ NOONE not even the skies legacy rivals can decipher, collide, explode, recycle, evoke, entitle, or revote reload on this very first original compete title.. i bet ya"ll just streakin on them poochy pockets bout 6 days from now still not bustin my motha fuckin me nutts, cause im just swimming, im just wrigging, just... "im just slitting the holes of the suckunuss SKUNTS" so none have a choice against whers the anti-christ blind matter gets taught about G.L.U.T.T.O.N.S { goodnesses/*l_q*f_w*/underworlds/treasonaries/telepheople/omenizement/NATIONNESS/(&)sTUNKs } The 8 required legallities by fedreal neglectant bilaws any 'ROyAL Blood KIn has to know before registered into the © ROUNDHOUSE DEN, SO PREPARE THOSE WHO KNOW THESE FOR THE NEXT AND HOPEFUL FINAL ATTEMPT AT |MARK•SHALL LAW| √√√√√√√√√√√√ '12..onnne ttwoo skilled by mentalist killings so #IYKYK #BIOTCH #cudlclubs #bubssuch #TuddleTimms #RUST #4reelTT #designerDRUGS # XUEBALL #12LUV

[rockinem777]

i used to read the thread a lot

i didnt know what it meant to be but another girl lost in a fantasy. I used to read it everytime I got left. I used to think it was my fault. I used to think it was a group effort. I used to wonder who it ready was. I used to look at pictures and be in denial to what I could've possibly been seeing. All the magic was love and there was nothing you could do wrong. Now I don't have an excuse to tell you that while being ignored I found truth in the fake masquerade you spitefully thru me into. I made you famous. I kept you in a place to prosper. I helped your family understand you so that they would support you when I can't compliment and cheer you on anymore. I made sure you were included in the medications they feed you. I just wanted to show you how everyone is entitled to nothing but their own free will. No I didn't know you weren't aware of having a choice in your own life. But if it counts for anything I'm glad you're sweet enough to keep going. At least now that you've felt conscious freedom within yourself I bet you'll never let people take your better judgement away from you. So we don't end. It's whatever but when you ignored my messages when I was worried to death over it I didn't stop blaming myself and idk I guess I just told the page hoping you'd read all the things I noticed and how it made me feel unloved. I wanted to be heard or at least know if I was overreacting or if It was possible to fix it. I guess I didn't know it wasn't love and needed confirmation to keep myself from feeling like I gave up on someone but I was just seeking to be cared for. Idk I've always been alone it's fine fuck it I know. Just know most of those things written are at least a year old. I had them on a timed release of a certain amount a day. I don't even get on mhere. Today is February 9th 2023. Im 23 now and when you get to this don't forget I didn't chose him over you. But I did chose you over me. Aren't you glad you're not in jail. Me too. I'm glad you're taking good care of yourself. & It. Wouldve been the bestnight of my life had you held me after but I guess you didn't see the good in me but that's ok cause you probably deserved better than me cause I know I'm mean but ya good luck to you hope you find a skinny girl that you won't criticize into feeling disgusting. Today I found out Pedro was in jail cause he didn't register on the sex offender registry and I hope you know I never lied but I'm never gonna let a guy rape me without pressing charges for it again. Call me a snitch idc the world would be a better place if rapist like him were stuck in jail away from girls who dunno any better. I only did it so if anyone felt the way I used to they could see that life is worth living for the ones I love. Yolo fuck you too tho bro you welcome enjoy being free I'll be stuck here for awhile

[the1975attheirverybest]

Hello my locey

How's your day gone? What have you been up to? The post concert depression has been REAL for me! I never understood it before but I think it's the drop back into reality after being on such a high that's done it for me.

Anyway I've been trying to avoid the article discussion, not because I'm naïve, of course I understand how it could upset some people, but I've chosen to look at things from a bigger picture and I genuinely believe that Matty is a kind and loving person who appreciates and respects his fans.

🌷🌷

hiiii babes.

im so sorry you're feeling so down :( I know the feeling. When it first happened to me, I dealt with it irresponsibly by spending my rent money on more concert tickets lmaoooo. I WOULD NOT recommend that approach. it's a financial decision that I had to recover for MONTHS after. but I do sometimes wish I could afford to go to multiple shows or like follow my favorite bands around or whatever.

Yeah, my thing is, we can call him out when he does something wrong, but to say that he doesn't love his fans is a bit too much of a judgement for me. Everyone's entitled to their own feelings though!

[dumbkiwi]

to clarify: i love blackbonnet as the endgame for the show.

but i really dont like a lot of blackbonnet fanon bc i think so many ppl miss the mark on stede. forget "darling" "my love" etc. what happened to "Ed, do you know this guy? He's being a complete asshole!" <3 let him be a bitch!!

moreover - stede is consistently shown to be so incredibly selfish. as his #1 character trait. swede has scurvy? cake wasnt that good anyways. Mary hates the fucking ocean? wasn't listening. remorse only comes when he's having a ~spooky mormon hell dream~ and he feels bad, more out of a fear of retribution than anything. Ed seems antsy and riled up? time to solve this with an adventure that makes him obviously miserable! even if he's saying he's doing it for someone else, he's doing it to ease his own conscience or bc it's what he would have wanted to do anyways.

basically, i think that stede doen't necessarily have blinding self-confidence, but in spite of his insecurities he remains just. so not self-aware and entitled. he's ridiculously bold in demanding things so people tend to give into what he wants, so he's never really told no. whenever he is, this is viewed as an obstacle to overcome/win. (see: the fuckery) he's truly shocked when he's disliked, never questions his own judgement or ideas, and expects everyone in a space to mold themselves around him. he doesn't listen to what most people say unless it'll have a direct effect on him ("that's a bit advanced for you mate" from his favorite person, or "i think he's more than up to the challenge" from his least favorite person?) and only feels remorse or guilt because he feels bad for himself -- never because of what hes put the other person through. stede bonnet lives in a world where he is the main character and everyone else (the people he loves included) are NPCs; he never once thinks that he affects other people in the way that they affect him.

and that makes him a fantastic pair for ed, because Ed *loves* selfish people. 1) it gives him something to play off of bc he's a social chameleon with adhd cant relate wym ; 2) everyone treats him with such reverence, putting him on a pedestal, and it's gotta be so refreshing to be around people who treat him like Just Some Guy. so then when ed in turn is bitchy or bratty or what have you, theyll treat him like a person and not like Blackbeard Hates Me; 3) Ed wants to be wanted, and selfish people want. it's the praise kink thing lol. being treated as blackbeard is incredibly isolating, and most people view him as a threat or unattainable ((or probably expect ed as pursuer)). but in front of izzy and stede and jack, who make their desires SO clear, ed can show off and preen. he is the object of desire, and that's just fun

not saying that stede jack or izzy dont respect ed, but their self interests will always come before eds well being. izzy expects so much from ed -- and if eds not stacking up, especially if izzy perceives his life hanging in the balance, he'll jump ship! jack doesn't give a shit that ed cares about stede. obvs you can say that he was on a mission, but he doesnt show any remorse for fucking with ed's happiness. and stede is completely unafraid to demand things of ed, too. i'm not even talking about going back to mary. the fuckery, questioning izzy's authority (instead of thinking that there might be a reason this seasoned sailor is taking issue with his judgement), not listening to what ed is saying about wanting to retire/just fold socks.

so idk i think what im trying to say is. the blackbonnet dynamic has so much potential to be bizarre and cool and interesting. but so many ppl only acknowledge this side of stede when izzy's thrown into the mix cause hes so hurtable. even when they want angst, use kraken!ed, which i think is such wasted potential. instead of forgiving stede for his actions, why not take his self-imposed ignorance as a form of malice!! he hurts people because he does not actually care about them! he's weirdly paternalistic and condescending to EVERYONE unless he sees himself as the victim. There are 33 works tagged 'Stede Bonnet has Issues' on AO3. 33!!! there are 300+ fics tagged 'Israel Hands has issues'. there is SO MUCH UNTAPPED POTENTIAL HERE.

some blackbonnet ideas below the cut, both sfw and nsfw, to get the ball rolling (maybe me @ myslf idk)

in general: ed taking on izzy's arm candy with a gun/queen of hell role as stede kinda takes over the captaincy. conflict between stede and kraken!ed when stede returns, but stede is pissed that ed doen't immediately accept his apology. play stede wanting one aspect of ed so fiercely against ed's fear of rejection. possessive stede in general, but also ed not immediately buckling

for nfsw! stede inflicting overstim torture. dubcon with stede not understanding/willfully ignoring boundaries and ed realizing that like izzy his boundaries are also malleable, and stede taking advantage of that. pillow princess or power bottom stede and service top ed. so many mind games. ed and stede both trying to out-dom each other fjeialfj.

[chaos-coming]

I fucking hate that my mom doesnt just have anxiety, she has a compulsion to make everyone around her also share that anxiety and wont stop until you are more stressed out than she is bc that comparison is how she tells herself she is managing it well

[pxrxcxa]

Opposite Ends 

Chapter Ten - Doomed love

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Eleven is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending (fix-it-fic if you will), fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 9 K Word Count

Chapter warnings | Nothing too out there in this chapter

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Thankyou, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | Again thank you for your patience, and as always thank you for reading! I did have to split this chapter up because we had a 20 k + word count but that's great news because 11 will be out in a couple of days! On top of everything else I had some pretty serious writers block but Im back & better than ever - at least I think so, let me know what you all think!

Eddie | March 1986

I didn’t walk around Hawkins with the intention of having my guard up all the time against almost everyone, it had just happened. When the entitled, judgemental residents of the town had taken one look at my ripped jeans, listened to the metal music blasting from my van and watched the fantasy game that my DnD club played that they deemed as ‘satanic’, and decided that I wasn’t worth more than the dirt beneath their shoes, it hadn’t exactly shaped me into a model citizen.  

But the feeling of being an outcast my entire life had sat fine with me; I had no interest in anyone in the small town I’d grown up in. They were all carbon copies of their parents, and their parents before them,  there wasn’t anyone worth being interested in. 

Until she came along. 

Henderson had strutted into my life like I didn’t have a choice, knocking down every single solid wall I’d spent years building up like they were made of feathers, even before she turned them into dust with each glance of her bright eyes and a hint of her sweet smile that she threw in my direction, she had been unconsciously destroying them with every death stare and exasperated sigh, breaking me down with every addictive movement of her.

She was meant for me, every hate filled eyeroll and love filled smile was ingrained on my soul in marks that would last a lifetime.

I’d never stood a chance. 

I never thought I would find myself completely and utterly consumed by another until I found her, or perhaps it was the other way around and she’d found – no saved - me. 

She’d taken my hand and led me out of the darkness of my own corruption and showed me that, whatever our souls are made of, however they were shaped from the loud, hurtful world around us… 

…hers and mine were the same, broken halves of the same blooming whole. 

I’d loved her from the moment I’d met her, I just hadn’t known it yet. 

And now I was never going to be able to tell her. 

In the three months since running into her at the Hideout, when we had both been trying to drown our sorrows over each other, we’d spent almost every day inseparable from each other. There had been a regular post-school afternoon once at my trailer when I had almost told her I loved her, and then I had been dying to tell her every day since.

“You’re an idiot Eddie Munson.” She laughed, smacking her hands against my bare chest as I nestled into the crook of her neck, tickling her through the thin sheets twisted between us. 

“Unfortunately for you, I’m your idiot.” She wriggled under my arms as I found her sweet spot, making her beg for mercy as I rolled over and pulled her on top of me. The setting sun that shone through my bedroom window sparkled magnificently in her hair, bringing out vibrant colours that weren’t usually there. The glittering sunlight brightened around her silhouette as a light breeze ruffled the stray whispers of hair falling into her face, furthering my suspicion that she was an angle.   

As she laid naked, pressed against me, she certainly had the angelic look to pull it off. 

“And I am entirely okay with that.” Resting her chin forward on my chest so that I had to tuck mine to still stare into her eyes, she pouted attractively.   

“How did we get here?” I breathed into the warm air, my thoughts falling back to us in our first Calculus class at the beginning of my third and her first senior year. “I used to hate you; you know.” I couldn’t ever remember or even fathom myself feeling any type of way that wasn’t absolute reverence towards the perfect creature in my hands. 

“If I remember correctly Munson, the feeling was extremely mutual.” Her smile was wide and carefree, her body pressed into me in criminal ways as her frame shook with laughter. Everything about y/n healed my soul, and although my only vice was weed, I was no stranger to the occasional dangerous party drug, but even their temptations cowered in the hulking shadows of Y/n's etherealness. 

“College will still be there y’know?” I blurted out suddenly, tightening my arms around her as the thought of losing her punctured my chest painfully. 

“What do you mean?” Her brows furrowed in confusion cutely, I smoothed the creases with my thumb as I traced light patterns along her spine.

“Come with me.” I stated, a sense of peace flowing over me as I realised it to be the only thing I would truly ever want, I’d been a fool to think I could walk away from her now, only three months in and she already had me willing to stalk the ends of the earth for her, God knows what kind of state she’d have me in by the end of the school year. 

“Be serious.” She scoffed; her eyes searched my face for a glimmer of falseness. 

“I am. Everywhere. Travel. We’ll travel everywhere, and we’ll fuck in every state and take a photo of it! I don’t want to forget a single moment with you.” I pressed my lips against hers ferociously, pulling away when her moans became too distracting, refusing to let our conversation be derailed.

“Come with me… please. A year or two, it won’t make a difference.” I begged, letting my excitement flare on my face, not even contemplating the very real possibility of her saying no. 

“Okay.” She didn’t miss a beat, determination and excitement reflecting in her own features now as I pulled back, shocked.

“Really?” I laughed disbelievingly, doubting that I had earned the right kind of karma to have y/n in my life. 

“Don’t give me a chance to change my mind Edward.” She warned, rolling to the side as she slipped from my arms, pulling my Hellfire t-shirt over her loose hair. I bit my cheek as I watched her strut over to my desk, my shirt barely covering her perfect ass as she bent down to retrieve the bud stashed away in the top draw. 

“How are you real?” I asked, watching carefully as she sat back into my desk chair, rolling a fat joint for the both of us between her deft fingers, waiting for her perfect form to burst into a cloud of air. 

“Don’t I feel real?” She laughed.

“Incredibly.” I shot back, wiggling my brows suggestively.

“You are damn near perfection” I promised and laughed as she broke off into a giggle. 

“Near?” She gasped; feigning being hurt over my careless words. 

“Well until you’re in my arms again how can I ever be sure you’re real?” I held them back out for her expectantly, but she dropped the rolling paper as she gasped out in pain this time. I flew from the bed instantly, tearing the sheets out of my way as I stumbled in my haste to get to her. 

“Another one?” I murmured concerningly, watching her face contort as she pressed her fists into her temples. She’d been getting relentless headaches, their appearances increasing over the last few weeks. The only thing that seemed to help was when I played my guitar for her, I already had my hand outstretched towards my acoustic one when her nails traced the skin on my arm. 

“I’m okay, this one wasn’t too bad” She smiled, placing her warm, soft palm against my cheek before turning away to re roll the joint. Even though she’d touched me a thousand times, the feeling of her still shot hot, fiery needs of desire and nerves through me. 

I needed her, and not in a sexual or even romantic way, I needed y/n like I need air to breathe, she was the only one who had walked into my life where I hadn’t spent a second worrying that she was about to walk right back out of it. Even my uncle Wayne, I still had nights where I woke up in a panic that I would find he had abandoned me like the rest of my family, but the suffocating thought never crossed my mind with y/n. 

She was my rock in a raging storm, the safe embrace of warm sheets after a hard day, the only arms that brought me comfort when the hate from our peers bit down through my metal exterior just a little too deep. 

Y/n saw me for who I truly was, scars and all, and still thought I was worth something. 

The most powerful, knee buckling feeling of affection rushed through me, and without thinking I opened my mouth. 

“I lo-“ I coughed as her eyes swung up to me, her cheeks reddening as instantly as mine. 

“Stay?” I amended, hoping she could hear the weight and meaning behind the single word. 

She laughed, like she knew what I had started to say, but chickened out at the last second, not wanting to ruin the most perfect moment of my life. 

“Always.” Her smile dropped as she stared back intently at me, walking over to place my head between her hands so I couldn’t turn away from her, she pressed her delectable lips against mine softly, pulling back slowly to wipe the unlawful tear away that brimmed at the corner of my eye. 

“Always Edward.”

But as y/n had put it, I’d been stupid enough to believe her. 

Those words, the entire night, every single moment shared between us had been ripped away from my rose-tinted glasses as my ring tumbled from her fingers onto the field, holding me rooted to the cold grass as she sloshed away from me and jumped into Jason Carvers truck. The painful sight had sent me spiralling after her once I figured out how to get my legs to work again, anger shot through me as I patted my jacket pockets for my keys as I sprinted across the field, finding them flat and empty. 

By the time I tore through the empty school corridors back into the drama room and found my discarded keys sitting on the tabletop, the parking lot was dark and empty, no trail of y/n or any of the basketball team. 

Even for my standard, I drove like a mad man to the nearest pay phone, smoothing out a crumpled piece of paper with y/n's loopy writing on it, Steve Harringtons number scribbled across the aged piece from her notebook.

“For emergency’s.” She’d smiled, slipping it into my glove box, at the time I had suspected her of just wanting Eddie the freak and Steve the hair Harrington to become friends, but whatever her reasoning, I was grateful for it now. 

Even when I’d fallen from the roof of my uncles trailer at the tender age of ten playing air guitar, snapping my arm in the process, that didn’t even come close on the emergency scale compared to y/n disappearing with Carver. 

The phone rang three times before someone picked it up. 

“Harrington.” I breathed. 

“Uh yeah…? Who’s this.” 

“It’s Eddie.” 

There was a loaded pause. 

“Eddie Munson.” I gritted through my teeth, as I lightly banged my fist against the glass backing of the payphone box. 

“Yeah. I got that, there’s only one Eddie Munson in Hawkins after all.”

I sighed heavily into the phone as unwanted thoughts of what Jason could be doing right that second consumed me. 

“What’s up?” Steve’s voice was cautious as he waited for my answer. 

“Y/n.” My voice dropped off as I stuttered over her name, cowering over the phone box as her words echoed in my mind. 

“Y/n? Is she okay? What’s wrong? Where is she?” His voice raised an annoying octave with each question. 

“She’s with Carver, she’s not safe, find her.” I slammed the receiver as I stumbled from the payphone, ripping my cigarettes from my pocket as I jogged towards my van. A long shadow crossed across my vision and the dimly lit carpark; I pulled my lighter away from my face as I squinted into the darkness.

Chrissy Cunningham had skipped out of the shadows next to the closed convenience store, she had her hands clutched together in front of her cheer skirt and her face gleamed from panicked sweat as she asked me in a hushed whisper despite that we were alone, the nearest soul probably a mile away, for something no ‘Good suburban girl” should even know about. 

I wasn’t proud of it and given the situation I’d landed myself right after I’d invited her to my trailer, it had been the worst decision of my life. 

But seeing her in her cheer uniform with her pom poms dangling by her side, an image of her holding hands with Jason in their matching Hawkins teams uniforms after the school pep rally this morning had flashed in my mind, and the urge to hurt Jason the same way he’d got to me, surged through me in a blinding, white, hot stab. 

Feeding hardcore drugs to his innocent, preppy girlfriend had seemed like the perfect start, and after Chrissy admitted that she followed me from the school to find some reprieve from 'loosing her mind', she had smiled cautiously, but still trustingly as I pulled open my passenger side door for her and slipped inside. 

Y/N | March 1986

“If only we could just, like, combine.” Robin intertwined her fingers as she leant against the poster across from me, I was seated on the three-legged stool behind the counter, my knees pressed to my chest as I rested my chin on them, holding a wet bag of ice to my head.

“Combine?” Steve raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, sliding the last of the returned tapes back into their place on the shelves as he joined Robin. I had been put on checkout duty, though I’d mostly spent our shift at Family Video quietly withering away in the corner. There hadn’t been too many customers this morning considering it was a Saturday, and Robin saved me from most of them anyway, leaving me to revel in my pounding hangover and the sickening memories from yesterday that plagued me. 

Robin and Steve had both offered to cover for me at work, saying that it was okay if I needed to take some time for myself. They’d both shut their mouths when I’d glared at them, ripped Robins front door open and stormed past them towards Steve’s car, yelling out behind me that I would be in the back seat waiting to go to work. 

After what I’d seen last night, when I had torn myself from Max’s couch, tearing across the living room as I tried to escape, drunkenly beating on Steve’s chest when he tried to hold me back. I had begged him to take me away, with hot tears streaming down my frozen cheeks as I collapsed on the gritty carpet. Steve held me as I fell to pieces, the weight of everything baring down on me relentlessly. A nearby lamp post flickered unnervingly as Steve had draped his jacket over my slumped shoulders as he helped me walk back to his car, while I pointedly avoided looking across from Max's trailer, afraid of what I'd see.

I couldn’t stand to face any of the consequences of what happened yesterday, the excruciating headaches and tormenting visions that came with them, my choice to drink the pain away with the basketball team and what Jason attempted or seeing Eddie with Chrissy at his trailer. 

So when I woke up blearily in Robins bed this morning, with her and Steve watching me worriedly from the doorway, I had pretended that I couldn’t remember anything apart from ending things with Eddie on the field, quickly slipping between them towards the overtly pink bathroom as they tried to bombard me with inane questions, the steaming hot water that burned my skin hadn’t been enough to drown out their half-whispered fight behind the door as they argued over what they thought happened. 

Eddie owed me no loyalty after what I’d done; but I had never felt more gutted than when I realised he had meant a whole lot more to me than I to him, how easy it had been for him to move on with another warm body, how easily interchangeable I was for him when he had been irreplaceable to me. 

A whirlwind of emotions wrecked me. I felt devastated one moment and angry the next. My broken heart was coursing feelings of shame, doubt, confusion, and anxiety through me. 

But no words were grand enough to describe what I was really feeling when thoughts of him trickled into my mind, sending great whips of agony to lap at my raw skin as I buckled over on the tiled shower floor. 

I had ended things with Eddie and smashed both our hearts with my cruel words. They’d burned fiercer than the whiskey as they fell from my lips, each false word sending a new lash of pain across his face as we stood on the school field. I had almost gone back on my choice when he’d begged me to stay, the double subtext behind the word held it's on meaning between us. The true rawness of his pain crippled me, but the quick flash of the blazing headache that flickered behind my eyes had reminded me of what I’d seen in the school bathroom, and that my broken heart wasn’t anywhere near as important as Eddie, I needed him safe. It was better if he was heartbroken and alive, rather than the alternative he was guaranteed to succumb to if he continued to be a part of my cursed life. 

That knowledge hadn’t kept my heart from ripping itself apart inside of me though. 

I had to keep myself distracted, because if I stopped then I started to think about things; things like Chrissy walking up those steps, him inviting her into his trailer, opening the door for her like he’d done for me a hundred times. His hands tracing across her skin in the same patterns - 

I was going to scream. 

I slipped from my chair and started fiddling with a stack of receipts on the counter. I looked up as Robins heavy footsteps slapped against the floor as she ran past the register, her dark green work blazer flapping wildly as she spun around with a wide smile and snatched up a new tape.  

“Doctor Zhivago.” My gaze flickered over to Steve’s as he rolled his eyes and stood up straight from where he leaned against the wall.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS.” Despite my black mood, I grinned as he waved his hands in dismay at her choice for our morning movie. 

“But it’s about doomed love.” She held it up to her chest as her eyes puckered up in a puppy like state, I dropped mine to the tapes in my hands as my knees crumbled, her words sending an agonizing stab of invisible pain through me. 

“Oh well that’s relatable.” Steve mumbled as he grabbed the tape trolley.

“Precisely.” Robin smiled, clasping it tighter to her chest. 

I flattened myself against the counter as they both walked around it to join me, anger at their obliviousness surged through me as Robin continued to chatter aimlessly. I loved my only two, age-appropriate friends dearly, but their similar tactless ignorance was too much even for me at times.

“Also, Julie Christie is b-b-bonkers hot in this. Like seriously, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.” Steve rolled the trolly into the corner by our gumball machine as Robin snatched up the TV remote, I busied myself by drumming my fingers along the outdated computers keyboard as I waited for the monitor to roar to life. 

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County.” A deadly shiver shot down my spine and something evil enough to scare the devil churned in my mind as the words from the reporter crackled from the speakers. A strange mixture of knowing panic and relief settled in my chest as I turned to look at fuzzy screen with the others, like I’d been waiting for something terrible to happen and it had finally arrived. 

“We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name..." 

I didn’t need the name. I knew, I’d always known. 

I had been too late, I’d been too selfish and given in to my basic human desires, it didn’t matter that it had been virtually impossible to stay away from Eddie, like there was something stronger than fate weaving our paths together, because now whatever brutal and fatal incident had happened at the trailer park, had pulled him into the cursed series of events that my friends and I were branded to never escape from. 

All because I wasn’t strong enough to stop loving a boy I wasn’t supposed to so that I could keep him safe. 

I gripped the side of the counter as blood rushed to my head, my body swayed dangerously as an ocean of blackness lapped at my consciousness, offering sanctuary as the glaring images from yesterday came to life before my eyes, the vision of Eddie’s lifeless body threatened to choke me as bile rose in my throat.

“Holy shit.” Steve moved closer into Robin as her eyes darted across the screen in shock, watching the older, dark-haired report deliver the news that was about to smash my world apart. 

“Max…” She whispered, shame pulsed through me that her name had not been the first one I’d panicked and worried over, a double shot of frenzied terror shot through our group as I pictured sweet, passionate, fiery Max taking Eddie’s place in my mind, her luminous pale skin turning a sickly white in death. 

The TV distorted in my vision as the blackness fought my last remaining feeble strings of hope, winning out as my knees collapsed onto the bristly carpet beneath us. 

Eddie | March 1986 

A trucks horn blared out as I dashed across the cracked road into the thick bush on the other side. My hair tangled with leaves and broken branches stung my eyes as my legs hammered into the uneven ground faster than they ever had before as I tore deeper and deeper into the woods. I hadn’t stopped running for hours, no straight thought in my mind except to run away from that. 

I crouched down and curled over my knees against a flaky tree trunk to catch my breath as the heady silence of the trees pounded down on my eardrums, sweat dripping down my brow mixed with my tears and stung my eyes. I buried my head into my balled up fists until I was pressing hard enough on my eyes that I saw distorted shapes behind my darkened lids as I tried to shove away the images flashing though my mind like a horror movie. 

It wasn’t enough. 

The shapes soon turned into thin, pale snapped limbs; a sickening cracking echoed around the empty woods as hysterical sobs wracked my chest. I pulled at my hair frantically, trying to drown out the mental pain with physical. I flinched as a flock of birds soared over the canopy of green leaves above me, I turned to side as I fell forward on my hands, sharp rocks and stick scratching into my palms as I heaved, my loose hair fell around my face in curls as I breathed through my mouth. The rich smell of the damp earth invaded my mind as I bunched up my hands, watching the dirt squeeze through my fingers as I tried to ground myself, shivering as a light wet mist started to fall, unable to escape the past twenty-four hours that had been torturous and downright unbelievable. 

I was in hell. 

I had to be, there wasn’t any sane reason for what I had seen. 

Unless I was crazy, maybe everyone that had ever call me freak was right, maybe I’d imagined it. 

As the image of Chrissy’s shaking body slowly rising into the air, snapping into gruesome angles under an invisible force played over in my mind, I leant forward to press my face into the coolness of the ground beneath me. I’d been pretty great at creating fake scenarios for my clubs DnD campaigns, but the sounds of her bones cracking and the bloodied empty sockets where her eyes should have been, was beyond anything I was capable of conjuring up. 

Comically – given my current situation and what happened with her yesterday –my thoughts flashed to y/n, my panic and worry for her was stronger than for myself right now, pathetically ironic since she had made it clear that I was nothing, that I meant nothing to her. I clenched my eyes shut and pressed my dirty palms to my forehead as tried to keep the images of her at bay, I’d rather face what happened in my trailer last night again then think about what she said, and how she’d looked at me on the field.  

It would have been easier to.

I still couldn’t help but wonder if Steve had taken me seriously, he wasn’t my biggest fan but the previously douche jock did seem to be a genuine friend to y/n and I hoped he’d heard the panic in my voice and had enough sense after my phone call to track her down and make sure she was okay. 

Even if what she had said to me, as her words tore me apart, was true, and there was no real feelings behind her actions the last couple of months towards me – my heart and eyes squeezed together as a wave of pain washed over me – that didn’t mean that there was anything but genuineness in my own behaviour, I had opened and bared my soul to y/n in a way no one else alive had ever seen. 

I still cared about her. 

I probably always would. 

No matter what reasons lingered behind her cruel words to me, I wasn’t going to let her go off drinking with the guy that she had told me tried to attack her months earlier. 

Or maybe I just didn’t know her as well as she knew me, I wondered what she would think when she saw the news this morning, would she instantly believe and know that I wasn’t the one who hurt Chrissy?

Would she even care?

And it was that thought that kept me running, because if I couldn’t even believe it why the hell would anyone else? As far as the narrow minded, straight path Hawkins residents were concerned, I was a satanic, devil worshipping, trailer trash, no good teenager and our High schools ‘It Girl’ was dead, crumpled gruesomely on my trailers living room floor. 

Something clattered to my left, I sprung up and slammed into the tree as I shuffled back on my hands, my chest heaving as I stared at the rodent sniffing around for food in the grass a few paces from me. The terrified scream locked in my throat as its' confused, beady eyes met my scared ones, died as I realised it was just a wild animal and not a vigilante group hell bent on finding me. 

I leapt up and took off again as distant horns hooted angrily in rapid succession from the main road, sending myself flying further into the disorientating clutches of the forest as my jacket flew out behind me in the whipping wind. 

My feet that shuffled uncertainly first in one direction, sped up with purpose as the reflective surface of Lovers Lake glinted in the far-off distance. 

Y/N | March 1986 

Déjà vu hit me like a tonne of rocks as I sat against the back wall behind the counter on the grainy floor, the red-tinged luminous Family Video sign flickered above me. I sat with my legs pressing into the rough carpet beneath me as Robin rubbed my back and asked me if I was going to hurl, her voice sounded thick and far away as she turned to where Steve leaned against the counter still watching the news as her palm rubbed warm circles into my skin. As I breathed through my mouth to ease the nausea, I wondered if monstrous events were going to become an annual occurrence for me, but I guess it didn’t matter. 

Because I didn’t think I’d survive this one. 

Not if it involved Eddie. 

Robin’s head snapped up, but I hung mine further into my hands as the store’s bell rung out loudly, the new arrivals slammed both doors open against the walls with a surrounding bang. 

“Hey Steve!” I looked up at Dustin’s voice from the front of the store, dread coursing through me at the expressions on his and Max’s face. She had an open flannel over the navy sweater I’d seen her in last night and her wild red hair thrown up in a loose ponytail, Dustin was dressed similarly but just on the opposite colour spectrum, sporting his ironic blue and white ‘thinking cap’. I hurried to my feet as Max’s eyes landed on me, guilt plastering her face as she tried to avoid my stare. 

“You guys seen this?” Steve shuffled uncomfortably as Robin moved to sit on the stool behind the counter as they both looked at Max in relief, neither of them voicing their solace in seeing that she wasn’t the unnamed dead student. 

Self-reproach wracked me as the same comfort did not fill me, my eyes only on my brother and my thoughts on the man we both cared for too much about as Dustin spied me behind the counter. 

“Y/n.” He gulped, his eyes flashing over my dark under eyes from crying all night; sleep had been well missed stranger to me for a while now.  

“Do you know where Eddie is?” I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood, my worst fears coming to light. I couldn’t speak as I opened and closed my mouth several more times, no sound except a gutted gasp escaping from it as my eyes flew to Max’s. 

I shook my head as I began to shake, waiting for the crushing blow I was sure he was about to deliver to me. 

“Come on y/n, you have to have some idea of where he is.” My voice failed me as my lips mouthed around the word no, Dustin snapped his head away in annoyance and turned back to Steve. 

“How many phones do you have?” He pleaded, laying his hands flat against the counter as he hunched over it, I looked between the two freshmen as an air of urgency and fear filled the air around us. 

“Someone was murdered.” Steve ignored him, pointing at the tv that had the images of a crime scene flashing across it, I squeezed my eyes shut as I recognised the background. 

“How many phones do you have.” He drawled out, his voice raising louder with each word as Max fiddled impatiently beside him. Steve’s head swung around to lock eyes with me over his strange request, confusion reflected in my gaze as well. 

What did this have to do with Eddie?  

“Uh two. Why?” His brow furrowed as he turned back to them, with slow movements I walked to stand behind Steve, watching erratic thoughts spin in Dustin’s eyes. 

“Technically three if you count Keith’s in the back.” Robin piqued up, jamming her thumb over her shoulder as she pointed to our managers office behind us. 

The others shared a confirming glance between them. “Yeah three works.” Max turned to Dustin, nodding ferociously as he slid his bulky backpack from his shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked apprehensively as I tensed, Dustin slammed the bag down on the counter. 

“What are you-“ Steve yelled as he slid his bag across the tabletop and onto the ground below it. 

“My pile!” Robin jumped up from her chair and slammed into me as my brother launched himself onto the counter. 

“No no no! My tapes! Dude.” Steve grabbed his hair as Dustin’s feet swept the pile of movies into a loud clattering mess as he scrambled towards the computer. 

“What are you doing man?” Steve whined, throwing his hands up angrily in the air. Max snuck around the corner of the square counter to join him as he plopped down in front of the computer, rapidly firing away as his fingers stroked the keys at lightning speed. 

“Setting up base of operations here.” Robin peeked up at the screen as he typed madly away, absentmindedly handing me one of the scattered tapes as we both bent down to pick them up. 

“Base of operations?” Robin repeated, shooting Dustin a quizzical look. 

“Stop. Get off of that.” Steve tried to usher Dustin from the seat as Max stared over his shoulder intently at the names scrawling across the screen.

“No I need it.” He shot back, flexing his fingers in irritation.  

“Need it for what?” Steve grumbled, sounding awfully like a tired parent. 

“Looking up Eddie’s friends phone numbers.” He explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. My neck snapped up from the pile of tapes I had stacked in my hands, slamming them down on the counter at Eddie’s name. 

“Oh Eddie your new best friend because he’s so much cooler than me.” Steve replied immaturely. 

“Ehhh yes.” Dustin swung his head around on his shoulders in frustration at Steve’s childish antics. “I never said that.” He exclaimed. 

“Dustin.” I whispered, but my voice got lost as the store phone rung in a loud shrill. 

“Seriously you guys maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.” Robin slammed her own pile down next to mine as she bent up to pick up a sign that Dustin had kicked off the counter. 

“Dustin.” I tried again, turmoil boiling within me as my mind ran rampant, Eddie’s face contorted in different types of pain burned behind my eyelids. 

“Look Robin, I totally empathise but this cannot wait until Monday.” He spun back in the chair as he ripped a notebook from his pocket, frantically scribbling down something as he stared as the computer screen.

“Oh my God.” Steve mumbled, rubbing his face as he bent down to pick up more stuff scattered on the floor. 

“What, because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin shot back. 

“Correct.” Dustin yelled. Max turned to look at me as she felt me move behind her. 

“You want me to strangle him? Or do you wanna do it?” Steve offered to Robin as he helped her return things to their rightful place. 

“We could take turns.” She smirked. 

“Dustin!” I yelled, slamming my hand down next to Max and making her jump. 

I knew something was seriously wrong when my brother refused to meet my eyes, his brows puckered as he dropped the notebook in front of him and pointed his pencil over his shoulders at us. 

“Can you just fill them in while I do this?” He aimed his words at Max, so I turned to her expectantly, so did Robin and Steve. A rage filed scream filed my throat as her stare met mine, pity and sorrow reflected in her blue eyes as her lips quivered, hesitating on the edge of words that were about cut through me like a rusty, serrated knife. 

“Fill us in on what?” Robin questioned, her gaze flicking between our faces as dread filled mine and guilt clouded Max’s. 

Eddie | March 1986

I sped past the front door of the house nestled by the glistening blue water, the darkened windows and dusty front porch giving off an air of neglect and headed straight for the boat house hidden down the back of Reefer Ricks property, I swung my head to the sides as I sprinted down the uneven slope.

Even out here, miles away from the nearest suburban household, I felt like there were eyes on me. I slammed my hands against the white sheet metal of the unlocked door, barrelling through it and spinning back to slam it shut. 

My breathing was heavy as I rushed to the grimy window, gripping the sides as my bulky rings strained against my skin painfully, I peeked through the smears of dirt and dust into the empty surrounding woods, the blaring sunlight filtered down through new spring trees, shining far too much exposure onto my scarcely hidden position for my liking. I slumped over the windowsill as my breathing slowed, clutching at the stich in my side. The small boat suspended in air over the hole in the middle of the floor that dropped off into the lake, held by four chains attached to each corner, creaked eerily as a cool breeze flowed in from the still water outside, the reflection of its' depths danced across the walls in a dizzying pattern. 

A pungent off smell surround the boat house from the life jackets and fishing gear hung up around the walls, I swept my hands across the rough wooden benches that lined the far wall across from me as my stomach rumbled, pushing piles of crap and junk onto the floor carelessly as I searched for some kind of weapon. 

Something. 

Anything. 

I scoffed to myself as I pulled a warm pack of beer from beside the turned off old fridge in the corner, out of date snack bars layered in dust, packed behind it. 

Yeah, it’ll have to do. 

The glass bottle slipped through my fingers and split into a thousand shards as something screed behind me, I flung around and fell back against the grainy wood bench, swinging my head wildly towards to source until I spotted the Bald Eagle soaring over the reflective blue water as it dived, it’s wings spread wide as it dipped and flew in spectacular patterns. I walked over slowly to the edge of the open window, my thoughts moving to my Uncle Wayne. 

They were his favourite birds; he’d always come home with a new random fact about them, his face bright with excitement as he shoved his favourite nature book under my nose as we sat at our dingy dinner table eating a five-star microwaved meal. 

“You know kid, they mostly eat fish?” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, follow a Bald Eagle and you’ll never go hungry.”

I coughed as a desperate sob racked my body, bending over to grab my knees as my heart clenched for my Uncle, wishing he was here with me now, torn between not wanting to be alone in this mess but praying to a God I definitely didn’t believe in or at least, - didn’t have a good relationship with – that divine fate had intervened, and my uncle didn’t return home this morning from his shift to find what drove me out last night. My hands trembled as panic consumed me, imagining what he must have thought when he found the bloody, crumpled mess that used to be Chrissy. 

Would he think it was me? No, he knew me better than almost everyone. He must have called the cops by now; he had to be worried about me. Once my name was dragged into this there would be hell to pay, a fury of uniform clad search parties out for my head. 

I wondered if there’d be anyone on the opposite side of that, out looking to help me. My uncle definitely, My Hellfire club maybe. Though I couldn’t imagine anyone or anything able to stop whatever did that to Chrissy. 

My thoughts flashed to Henderson as I watched the Eagle soar low over water’s edge, disappearing into the orange horizon as the sun quickly set. Jealously floored me as I wished for my own pair of strong wings to fly me away from this mess. 

Like a rabid animal, I shot up and dived under the damp blue tarp covering the rusty boat, rapidly spreading it over me to cover my sneakers as the far-off sound of tires spinning over gravel made its way towards the boathouse.

Y/N | March 1986

“Have you seen or heard from Eddie recently?” Dustin paced back and forth in front of me as he pressed the phone harder into his ear. The world around me passed in a blur as my thoughts consumed me. 

Chrissy Cunningham dead in Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie missing or worse. 

I had nearly torn poor Max’s arms off as I gripped her shoulders, leveling my face with hers as I made her repeat what she said, she had to tell me three times that she had seen him leave – alive – before I collapsed back against the stool behind the counter in relief. 

Steve, Robin and I had all stood wordless as a cold tremor ran though the three of us as Max spoke about the electrical problems at the trailer park and what her and Dustin thought that meant. 

I didn’t think that I would ever feel relieved to hear that the upside down and the monsters within it were wracking havoc on Hawkins in again, but relief flowed through me that they thought and agreed that it had to be something supernatural because there was no way Eddie had hurt Chrissy. 

Alive but on the run. Thing could be a lot worse. I bit at my raw nails beds, my ringers tracing the ghost of Eddie’s ring that no longer sat on my finger as I impatiently sat and listened to the three phone calls happening around me, I had been dismissed from my list of names to ring, Robin gently tugging the phone from my hand with a small, pitiful smile as I shook like a leaf in the wind. 

“Eddie Munson.” Max sped past me in the other direction to Dustin.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Dustin sighed and crossed another long shot name off the short list.

“Yeah have you seen him?” Max quipped. 

“Okay, sorry to bother you” Dustin slammed his receiver down and reached for another number. 

“Know anyone who’d know where he is?” Max groaned, her eyes snapping up to meet mine as I fiddled and leaned in closer to hear the irritated voice on the other line.  

“I reallyyy don’t think he’s at the arcade.” Robin grabbed the phone dial and held it to her chest, walking over to the other side of the counter. “Yep, I’m pretty sure.” I sighed and pressed my lips together as she looked up at me in disappointment. 

“Reefer Rick? No. Does this Reefer Rick have a last name? I mean, it’s kind of…” Max jogged over to the blank notebook in front of the register, waving her hand around as she tried to drag the information out from the person on the other end of the call. 

“Doctor Zhivago.” Steve strutted past me on the other side of the counter as he weaved his way through the isles of stacked movie, the double VHS tape held up in his hand as he smirked as the customer – she was what both he and Robin would have described as a ‘babe’. I huffed and slipped from the chair, ignoring his antics as I watched Max scribble something down madly, peeking over her shoulder to make out her messy handwriting.  

She slammed the phone down and turned to the me watching her with a hopeful expression. “Hey guys, I might have a lead.” 

“Seriously?” Dustin spun around with a keen grin as Robin hung up mid conversation. 

“Yeah. Apparently Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick. And sometimes Eddie crashes there.” Max’s face scrunched up over the name as she shook her head. 

Uh oh. 

Ricks place out by Lovers Lake, sat in the middle of nowhere surround by thick tufts of trees. 

Perfect place to hide. 

Panic and frustration shot through me that I hadn’t thought of Eddie’s supplier myself, while I listened to the group try and figure out where to find him. 

“That sounds promising. Where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin 

“See that’s the thing, no one knows. He’s more of a legend than someone that people actually know.” Max shrugged her shoulders as she acknowledged how ridiculous it sounded. Guilt pulsed through me as I considered letting them figure it out the hard way, saving me the grace of not admitting my habit to Dustin, not that I’d been keeping life together well recently, but I still wanted to be a good older sibling example to him. 

No, Eddie’s safety was more important than my bruised ego taking a hit to my questionable-to-begin-with reputation, and with the man hunt that was already brewing from the news that there was a high school student murdered, every second was crucial. 

“What about a last name?” Dustin suggested. 

“I don’t know that either.” Our heads flung to the front of the store as Steve cut Max off.  

“Bet the cops know the last name.” He was loading more tapes into the trolley, mumbling away from us as he pointedly tried to ignore my outraged face, his vest swayed like a red flag as his back made for a nice, large target for the tape I’d subconsciously picked up. 

“The cops? Really Steve that’s your suggestion?” Dustin spat, a similar expression of disgust and anger reflected on his face. 

I needed to speak up now. 

“We don’t need the cops. I know where Reefer Rick lives.” The older friends of the group shot me knowing and disappointed looks as Dustin scrunched up his face at me. Steve slammed the last of the tapes down and spun around towards the counter. 

“How the hell do you-“ I cut Dustin off before he started on his tangent. 

“That doesn’t matter right now.” I waved him off, turning my attention to Steve as I slid closer next to him to join him at the counter, placing my own arms on the tabletop, forcing him to look at me. My body was like an electrified live wire, burning at the touch as each wasted second that ticked away put my teeth on edge. 

“We need to find Eddie before the cops do, and every moment counts right now.” I forced myself to hold back the anger in my voice, we couldn’t afford to fight between ourselves right now, Steve didn’t know Eddie like I did – not that he’d given him much of a chance – but if what happened at his trailer had anything to do with the upside down, then we needed to stick together, I needed his help, my friends help, to save Eddie.

And myself, if I was honest. 

Because if Eddie didn’t escape from the evil supernatural forces of the upside down or the inevitable witch hunt by Hawkins residents, then I had no intention to either. 

The only way we were going to be able to fight this was together, like we always had. 

“I just think that they should be filled in on what we know, what’s going in.” He shrugged, turning to face me as my expression pleaded with him, his own conveying his urgency for me to understand his point.  

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin snapped, my younger brother grew fiercer than even myself for a moment as Steve tore his stare away from mine and leaned on the counter towards him, an apologetic look on his sharp features as he shrugged again. Dustin crossed his arms and raised his brows at him as I placed my hand over his, clenching down harshly on his fingers. 

“Steve, you and I have been through things that we can’t even bare to speak about. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t trust me. I know Eddie, better than anyone else ever will. He didn’t do this. We need to go find him and save him from whatever did.” Dustin swiped his bag back onto his shoulders as he shoved Max and Robin towards the exit, mumbling for them to move faster. 

I turned away to catch the door as it swung back closed after them, pausing as I noticed Steve still hadn’t moved, his eyes glued to his hands as he clenched them together. 

My thin patience snapped as I watched a police patrol car speed past with its siren blaring as its lights reflected off the store front’s windows. 

“You’re coming, or so help me I will put hair removal in your shampoo until you go bald.”  

Chapter Eleven

➢ Eddie Tag List } @dotslabyrinth @chanaaaannel @lem0nb0iii @xcarabear @projectcampbell @munchabunch @grungegrrrl @sammararaven @ches-86 @alinepichi @halbhohehalluzination @kalalikalas @thetrashqueen23 @bruh-tato-chap @sagittariughs @c0rroded-coffin @averagemisfit03 @eddiesgffff @churchmuffins

Copyright © 2022 by P.McCann.

All Rights Reserved.

[creacherkeeper]

hey same anon from before!! and yeah i meant general headcanons/ aelwyn + the bad kids dynamics/ honestly whatever fh headcanons you have so lmao you’re good. if you have any more know i would LOVE to read them but no pressure of course!!

oh okay dope ^^ thank you for clarifying. but ...... while we’re here ...... MIGHT AS WELL TALK ABOUT SOME ND HEADCANONS EHH??

of course disclaimer that these are just my own reading and everyone is entitled to read it differently, but i’ll try to back up my takes as much as i can

-

adaine (autism & panic disorder) - detail-oriented problem solver, thrives under the structure of school but doesnt do well with overwhelm, organized, seems sensitive to noises (like if the bad kids are being loud or rowdy), extremely earnest and forward even in situations where its inappropriate and doesnt always understand when its actually hurting her goals (see: every time an npc has to go “whats your deal? can i help you?” to adaine), tends to fumble some spontaneous speech (come backs in fights or like. the WHOLE thing with the innkeeper), very knowledgeable and skilled in a specific area of interest (divination magic), thrives with an emotional support animal, possibly ace (for sure not all autistic people are but we tend to be in much higher numbers), vibes with ayda almost immediately (by like. just straight up asking if she wants to be friends), very direct when talking, strong sense of justice and morality and gets very frustrated when things dont work how she thinks they should

riz (autistic) - hyperfixates on cases (both in the ‘losing track of time’ and ‘has trouble thinking of other things while out and about’ way), odd sense of fashion, has trouble making friends and understanding relationship dynamics (him thinking he was friends with the popular kids in ep1, being obsessed with finding penny who was his babysitter but then they dont really hang out after, being very verbal about fabian being his best friend even though fabian is embarrassed), ace, detail-oriented problem solver, sleeping issues, CAN lie but tends to be very direct to the point of being rude and abrasive at times, very defined moral code and strong sense of justice, easily frustrated in certain situations, intimidated by social interactions (especially with people he doesnt know), struggles with self-care and self-maintenance, i dont know exactly how to categorize the hissing but im throwing that in here too, doesnt always have “average” emotional reactions (like being really excited about the video of his dad instead of upset), very mature interests for his age

gorgug (autistic) - trouble with communication (putting his thoughts into words, tends to speak very slowly with a lot of pauses, doesnt always know what to say or what the average person in his situation would say), has a hard time making friends, struggles with emotional regulation (you can read barbarian rage as this in general but im also thinking of him getting mad at the high elves and just having to run around to calm down), very emotionally intelligent but doesnt always come across that way because of communication struggles, understands the value of having things explained in a simple and accessible way and does so without judgement or embarrassment if others need him to, thinks in a different way and comes to conclusions others dont seem to (sometimes he’s completely correct and other times .... dad!?), uses sensory input to regulate emotions (mostly music/drumming), screams when overwhelmed, doesn’t always ‘get the point’, is a very good friend but is so with great intention and care

fabian (adhd + dyslexia) - doesnt enjoy school, has some Very Bad Rolls when it comes to books and reading, doesnt think he’s as smart as his friends, struggles with a disconnect of identity (how he sees himself and his family vs how other people see him), very physical and physically active, tends to default to loud and “rowdy” (as adaine put it), struggles with emotional regulation, very sensitive but would NOT admit that, doesn’t always understand social cues or when he’s being rude, struggles with impulse control

fig (adhd + autism) - sensory seeking (especially music & the physical element of playing music which can be read as stimming, as well as smoking cloves), disconnect between how she sees herself (mysterious closed book) and how others see her (incredibly open and earnest), feels like a social chameleon and slips into roles very easily but has trouble feeling like and understanding herself; very excitable, engaged, reactive, and verbal; runs away when she feels uncomfortable or overwhelmed, tends to wander from the group a lot, admits several times that she wasn’t paying attention or doesnt remember key info about the plot, builds an identity around deviation from societal norms, big emotions, lots of energy, cares very deeply but actively works on understanding boundaries, doesnt always pick up on social cues

kristen (cptsd) - discussed in this post but can be summed up as issues with affect and emotional regulation, cognitive/executive functioning issues, difficulty with boundaries, struggles with impulse control, goes from VERY self-restrictive to VERY loose with sexual activity, drugs, alcohol, tattoos, etc; struggles with self-concept, doubt, and trust issues; possibly has dissociative and/or depersonalization tendencies with her cleric abilities 

so 8))))) yeah. bad kids neurodivergence headcanons ahoy