#i guess. lightly

[pocketramblr]

me, Pocket "family trees" Ramblr, looking at this new lass in the trailer: now you aren't going to believe what my theory is here-

[hajihiko]

agrument

[ohplasticheart]

Tell me when the party ends Will you still love who I am?

[3amsnek]

weird (not quite) autumn- one layer practice Mae with some vague leaves stuck on for funsies

[meirimerens]

a theomachist in the face of a cruel god, or more reassuringly, something worse entirely

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

[kwillow]

enraptured by Theo :>

Thank you! I'm happy to hear that. He's my darling creepy little weirdo and my favorite freak to write and draw.

(This is also rather serendipitous because I just finished a comic with him as a central character, which I'll be posting tomorrow! He's, uh... not on his best behavior in it.)

[laeana]

See how it’s all fiabull and fia being biased for redbull and Max??

They even let them get away with illegal wings and place safety cars and VSC conveniently so that they are advantaged! Oh wait-

[cerealmonster15]

COULDNT SLEEP. GRABBED TABLET. DREW ANOTHER STUPID CHART. I LOVE MAKING STUPID CHARTS. GOING BACK TO BED.

[unexpectedbrickattack]

I bet Gustavo knows how’s exactly small he is and uses his charms and adorableness to get tips , and it’d work

Peppino pays Gus very well (esp after postgame) so theres no need to have tips. He lets Gus have the jar there anyway, but at the cost of having Pep occasionally come up behind him and catch him conning these poor customers

[bittsandpieces]

PET PEEVE: when a partner will call me a title but only in causal settings and never actually during sex. Fucking commit to it dude either I'm mommy or I'm not

[ccieatchildren]

Prove It.

No One Lives (2012) Inspired

TW: Implied Non-Con, Self-Harm, Medical (Probably) Inaccuracies

The cell door closes with a bang. 

Whumpee lifts from the bed, routine already cemented into them, and takes him in. He appears less put together than usual. Lab coat and clipboard gone for a tie and waistcoat. Slightly mussed hair from running his fingers through it, dark bags under his eyes, and a faint tremor in his hands. He looks terrible.

The remark bubbles up before they have the chance to stop it.

“You look like shit.”

He loosens his tie. “Not now.” 

They obey, sitting quietly as he unwinds. 

Whumper removes his gloves, drawing their attention to the scars on his hands, and worry blooms at the exposed vulnerability. He kneels in front of them, gently taking their face in his palms. The comfortable warmth of his hands is an unwelcome contrast to the cold disinterest of his gloves. They find solace in the uninviting chill of the leather– it is easier to disconnect. The heat makes him feel more real, more human, a title he does not deserve.

“I need to ask you something.” Whumpee says nothing. His lip twitches, but he takes a deep breath and continues. “Do you love me?”

The answer is immediate. “No.”

Whumper's eyes narrow before his face twists and he laughs derisively. The cackling bounces off the concrete walls, hitting their brain from every angle. His hands leave their face to claw at his own neck and Whumpee scoots as far back as they can.

They’ve dealt with many different Whumper's, but this one, the self-destructive lovesick madman, is unstable and frightening. There is nothing they can do and Whumpee wants him to stop. 

He keeps going until the skin blooms red and he has no more breath, eyes training back to them. “See,” there are a few more lingering giggles, “I do not know if you are lying or not. You lie to me a lot, Whumpee.” His fingers snatch their chin. “Are you lying to me, darling?” All the mirth is gone, left with two ominous crimson orbs. 

“…No.” Eyes searching, he doesn’t find what he wants and he lets them go with a scoff. 

Whumper puts some distance between them, which Whumpee greatly appreciates, leaning back on the metal table filled with his tools, and simply watches them. They feel uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze, paranoia sparking. Maggots crawl under their skin everywhere he looks, bubbling up where he stops and burrowing to follow where he moves. It’s unpleasant— revolting— but Whumpee is afraid any movement will cause them to burst out.

“Prove it.”

“…What?”

He pulls out an intricate pocket knife, flicking it open and flashing the blade. “I am your only exit, mylimoya. You are stuck here without me. Kill me, and what will happen?” He advances on them. “What will you do as the hours turn into days? As your throat goes dry? As the hunger grows like a yowling cat?” He pulls them flush by the waist to whisper in their ear. “Will you survive off of your own blood and flesh, zuikutė?”

“Stop!” They elbow him.

“Then, take this opportunity, put your knowledge to use, and do not let that happen.”

“Whumper,” they huff, pulling further away from him, “what’re you talking about?”

“I was your coworker, your friend, and now your captor, your lover,” his lips brush theirs, “Prove you feel nothing for me and run.”

They don’t understand until Whumper puts the blade to his own throat and slices. 

Blood gushes from the wound like a waterfall, a scarlet sea opening under him. He giggles, manic, but it gurgles with the blood beginning to pool in his throat. 

Whumpee can only stare in horror. 

Finally, when he collapses into their lap with a moan, do they spring into action. Their first aid training kicks into place, and they attempt to lift him up before pausing. 

This is it, this is their chance. 

Whumpee's eyes flick to the metal door and the heavy set lock, then back to the man bleeding under them. He looks serene moribund, kinder and softer than he ever is healthy and awake, and Whumpee is reminded that he is just a man. However, their eyes train back onto the pathetic cut on his neck and the image is destroyed.

They scramble over his passed-out body, searching every pocket and hole for a key. There is nothing in his pants, nothing in his vest, and nothing in his shoes. As the seconds tick by, their movements become more desperate, rechecking and triple checking, until they realize. 

There’s nothing but the knife in his hand.

Bitter tears push and tumble from their eyes and Whumpee screams in rage at him, at everything, for this cursed fate. It echoes around their prison and they hear multiple instance of themself do the same.

They shake his form in anger. “Whumper,” they shove at him more aggressively, “Whumper, where is the key!” 

He doesn’t respond, eyes closed and red growing under him. 

Salt streams faster down their cheeks. “Whumper, please.” Their hands are covered in crimson. “There isn’t time. Just tell me where the key is.” Their fury turns to begging. “Please…”

No response.

They rest their head on his in defeat, drowning him in their tears. “Whumper, wake up.”

Still no response and Whumpee hates themself for what they’re about to do.

They prop their captor on the wall, leaving him on his side to keep his lungs clear and making sure his neck is above his heart. Whumpee snatches his discarded tie, using it to apply pressure to the wound, but not enough to cut off the blood and his breathing. They run to the table, digging through his tools for something suitable until they find the staple gun. It’ll work.

Whumpee removes the tie, now soaked in his blood, and gently cradles his head in their lap. Holding the wound closed despite their slippery fingers, they line up the stapler perpendicularly to the cut and squeeze. The first staple pierces his flesh and he jerks lightly, but doesn’t wake. Taking a deep breath to calm their nerves, they move less than a centimeter to the right and puncture him again. 

They continue the process, trying not to pay attention to the sweat matting his hair and blood seeping into their skin, until the wound is fully closed. Whumpee rewraps the tie around his neck and drops him back onto the floor, disgusted by the feel of him. 

They saved him. They. Saved. Him.

Whumpee curls into themself, wrapping their scarlet soaked hands around their bruised knees and burying their face into their arms. Crying begins anew, louder this time so their sniffles and sobs fill the room. 

They aren’t sure how much time has passed before his groan reaches their ears. Their hold tightens around themself as they hear the shuffle of his movements. 

“Whumpee…” The name is hoarse, but nauseatingly tender. His hand lands on their arm and they jolt. “You stayed.” Whumper sounds so shocked and elated that the anger rushes back in.

They lift their head to glare at him despite the red rimming their eyes. “Stayed?” Whumpee growls. “What else could I do? There was nowhere for me to fucking go!”

His brows knit together until he laughs softly. “What did you do first after I fainted?” Whumper slurs. They continue to glower at him, refusing to respond. He laughs again. “Did you check me for a way to get out? A phone, a wallet, or… a key, perhaps?”

“There was no fucking key!” They get up on shaky legs, and he matches the movement. Whumpee pushes at his shoulders in anger, and they both wobble. “There was no key, Whumper, and you left me in here with you fucking bleeding out. I couldn’t leave without saving your twisted ass.” Each sentence is marked with an aggressive tap to his chest. “I had to save myself…”

His expression hasn’t changed, only amused pity, and he chuckles fondly when their rant is over. “No you did not,” Whumpee prepares to spit at him like an angry cat, but he cuts them off, “because, if you did, you would have left.”

“I just said-”

He holds up a hand and they don’t know why they obey. Whumper calmly limps to the locked door and Whumpee watches in anticipation to see where he hid the key. But he doesn’t search within his pockets or his clothes, and they can feel the dread scuttle up the back of their neck. He gently places a palm on the door and pushes. 

It opens. 

Their breath stops dead in their throat and a strangled whimper oozes out. Whumpee crumples to the floor as he walks back to them. It was open the whole time. The whole fucking time.

Why didn’t they check? What were they doing? How could this have happened? 

Whumpee screams in agony, frustration, and betrayal.

Whumper delicately wraps them in his arms and pulls them close. He runs a soothing hand along their back and Whumpee wishes they left him to bleed to death. They claw at his shirt, tugging and tearing, wanting to cause him as much grief as he has put them through, but they know they can’t. And his soft words confirm it. 

“You do not have to say it, Whumpee, but I know you love me.” The scent of his blood clogs their nose as he nuzzles their cheek. “Why else would you save me.”

Truly, Whumpee asks themself, why else would they save him?

[moonchild-in-blue]

If thing [ibuprofen] bad [eats your stomach lining if taken in excess], why good [clears away my migraines and brings me peace]?

[tricoufamily]

i was gonna show you all of his outfits then i remembered he has the most boring sense of fashion in the world

[crispycreambacon]

Spice In, Time Out!

— ☆ —

Wanna read a semi-crack fic about Beef Boy hanging out with a bunch of puppets? Maybe even do a little ramen challenge with his little blue fuzzy nerd friend? You're in luck, 'cause I wrote 6500 words of exactly that!

Among those thousands of words are a bunch of cool stuff such as:

Puppet shenanigans! Two of them may have planned to kill their friends (disclaimer: that murder will not be shown in the fic)

Actual history??? Yeah that's right you're gonna get hit with a Puppet History-style question so STUDY UP ON THE HISTORY OF RAMEN (or not) 👹

God being the worst! Again! They may have actually killed someone (disclaimer: that murder WILL be shown in the fic)

God/Professor allegations. Whether those allegations are true or not will be up to you

Overall a (hopefully) funny and wholesome bonding time between everyone at this table. They're all friends! :]

If all of that sounds like a jam to you, you can read the fic via clicking here, clicking the title, or searching up "Spice in, Time Out!" by crispycreambacon on AO3.

I hope y'all will enjoy this fic! I'm pretty proud of how it turned out especially since I was honestly not feeling it at the start and even contemplated not publishing it at all. Even if you don't read it, I hope you enjoy the art (bonus doodles down below btw!) and I hope you'll have a schmaculous day!

[coffee-master]

[Warning Contains: Crossfireshipping]

Kai: *is kidnapped by Cinder, but doesn't take it seriously at all*

Cinder: *Is tired of Kai's jabbling*

Kai: And so.. I was-

Cinder comes closer to Kai: CAN YOU SHUT UP?!

Kai: ...

Cinder: ...

Kai excited: Is that a piercing on your eyebrow!??!

Cinder: Wha-

Kai: I've always hoped to get myself a piercing one day. They are so cool!

Kai: *starts talking even more while ignoring completely Cinder*

Cinder: *is even more annoyed*

Kai: ...and so I can't decide with which piercing to start.. Or how to take good care of it..

Kai: Hey, do you have any sugestions?

Cinder: ...

Cinder: Get yourself Lobotomia.