#i hate that fact that i know how to do the Molotov

[janeyseymour]

Dancing On My Own (Tiesto Remix)

Summary: You're a Cowboys fan in Eagles territory. Melissa finds out.

WC: ~2.05k

You have a secret- a deep, dark secret that you never ever want your fiery, die hard Eagles fan girlfriend to find out. You’re terrified of what will happen if she does. You’re a Dallas Cowboys fan. Okay, so maybe you were a second-hand Cowboys fan, but your dad bought you one of the jerseys because he absolutely adores them. And when you go home to Texas (how you ended up in the one state, one city that hates Dallas more than anything, you’ll never know), your dad always drags you to a game.

Upon moving to Philly, you took down every indication that you would ever associate yourself with the team that the Eagles love to hate. You couldn’t risk becoming an outcast before you even start your new life here.

And it did you good. You somehow land in the heart of the city, and you work for a school that absolutely bleeds Philadelphia. The principal adores the Eagles, Mr. Johnson is constantly yelling ‘Go Birds!’, Janine has a few trinkets in her room for each of the Philly Sports teams… even Gregory has come around to love Gritty. And then there’s Melissa Schemmenti. She’s had to go to court for throwing a corn cob at Ben Simmons when he pissed her off, she has ins with those who worked the demolition at the Linc,  she’s a season ticket holder for the Phillies and the Eagles… and she absolutely detests the Cowboys- more than most Eagles fans too. She’s gotten into more trouble for heckling the Dallas team than she’s willing to admit- knocking over portapotties when Cowboys fans are in them, throwing Philly cheesesteaks, hurling eggs and Molotov cocktails at the bus. 

And yet, she’s your girlfriend. How? You’re nearly perfect. You’re smart, you’re funny, you can sing and play instruments to make her swoon, you’re a wonderful teacher and great with the kids, and you’re more than easy on the eyes. And that was what she knew of you before she fell madly in love with you. 

With the season coming up, your girlfriend is more than excited. She’s been waiting for the season tickets to go on sale, but even then… if she doesn’t get them the legal way, she knows a guy.

She does end up getting them. Of course she does. And as soon as she does, she’s coming into the teachers lounge doing her happy dance and making her way over to you. She kisses you soundly before proclaiming that she is 100% taking you to an Eagles game.

“And,” she notes. “I’m gonna make sure it’s a good one… Eagles versus the fuckin’ Cowgirls! Go birds!”

She’s met with a chorus of ‘Go birds!’ right back, but you stay quiet.

She turns to you with a curious look, amused grin now gone. “Babe, aren’t you excited?!”

You shrug. “I just… haven’t ever really been into football?” you offer weakly.

“Well, I’m gonna make sure that you have a great time there. I’m gonna get you an Eagles jersey, a Jalen Hurts one, and you’re gonna have the damn time of your life!”

Again, you shrug your shoulders, looking unsure.

“Aye, if she ain’t gonna use the ticket for good, I’m right here!” Mr. Johnson points to himself. “You know we’ll have a good time.”

“Nah, Mr. J,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “I’m taking Y/N, and she’s gonna leave the Linc a die hard Eagles fan, right?” She looks at you in a way that tells you there’s no convincing her otherwise unless you want to out yourself right now as a fan of the Cowboys.

You just nod, knowing you can’t have this conversation in public- you do not want to be shunned by the rest of your coworkers. You could potentially lose this job; Ava has fired people for less despite the fact that she really couldn’t afford to fire them and that’s why both you and Melissa are teaching two different grades at a time.

That’s the end of that conversation.

Until she comes over to your apartment that night, ready to cook dinner for you and stay over. 

“You gonna tell me why you got so weird about going to a football game with me? Is it because we might see our students at the game?” she asks. “Because if it is, I promise you… you know Philly is pretty cool about LGBT stuff.”

“I know, I know,” you say softly. “I’ve just… could we go to a baseball game instead?” You never pledged your allegiance to any baseball team, so you would be willing to wear a Harper or Nola jersey.

“I mean, I could get us tickets to a game,” she tells you as she puts the meat into the pan to start cooking. “But I really love football and the Eagles, and that’s something I want to share with you.”

“Does it have to be a game with the Cowboys?” you ask.

She turns to you at that. “Those are the best games.”

“I-” you sigh. Deciding to just rip off the bandaid, you take off the Abbott sweatshirt that you’re wearing to reveal the Day Prescott jersey your dad had given you the last time you visited your hometown. 

Her jaw drops, and her eyes fill with a fire. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me that you were the enemy?” she seethes.

“Mel,” you say softly, trying to calm her down.

“Don’t ‘Mel’ me right now,” the redhead hisses. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?!”

“Melissa, honey,” you continue. “Please-”

“I- no,” she stops you from getting any closer to her when you attempt. “Don’t. Don’t you even fucking dare.”

She’s out of your house before you can say anything else, and the only thing that you can hear is the flank steak sizzling quietly in the pan on the stove.

When you get to school the next day, you head straight for her room to try to talk to her again.

“Melissa,” you knock on the door, a cup of her favorite coffee in your hands as a peace offering.

“No.”

You set the warm drink on her desk, which she promptly smacks into the garbage can under her desk. She stands hastily and storms out of the room in the direction of the staff room.

“Melissa, please!” you beg as you chase after her. “Please!”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she hisses as she rips her arm away from you when you catch her gently. She storms into the break room and heads right for the coffee mugs.

“Please!” your voice cracks, and everyone that is already gathered there turns at the commotion.

“Ooh,” Ava says. “Trouble in paradise. Spill.”

“This one-” your girlfriend, if she even still is after your reveal last night, points to you and looks at you with disgust. “-is a Cowgirls fan, and decided not to let me know until last night!”

“Boo!” Mr. Johnson heckles you. You give him a nearly murderous look.

“Just let me explain!” you plead.

“You have nothin’ to explain! You’re a traitor!” the redhead barks at you before turning back to the mugs. She slams the door as she closes it, slams her coffee mug down on the counter, and storms her way to her seat next to Barbara. She makes it so that there is absolutely no way you could sit next to her.

All eyes are on you, and you hate it. So you do what you know how to do: run.

You avoid the second grade teacher at all possible costs for the next few days, giving her the chance to cool down. Finally, at the end of the week, you attempt to talk to her.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she huffs. She doesn’t even bother looking up from her nails. She doesn’t even give you the chance to explain yourself. “I ain’t dating no Cowgirl.”

You cry the entire way home. You lost your girlfriend, and all because of some stupid football team.

You call your father that night, a sobbing mess.

“You were dating an Eagles fan?!”

“Dad,” you cry. “Please. I don’t- I just need you to tell me that it’s all going to be okay.”

“It is,” he promises you. “But, seriously?”

You hang up on him.

He calls back a few minutes later, apologizing for his words. You forgive him of course. You love your father more than anything. 

“If you really love her, you’ll get her back… even if it means you betray our team,” he tells you.

“R-really?” you whisper.

“You’re in Philly now,” your dad sighs softly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, and the lord knows you can’t because no one can beat Philly fans, join ‘em.”

That’s all you need to hear to know what you’re going to do. “Thank you, Dad.”

“Of course, kiddo. Just know that when you come home to visit, you are back on my team.”

“I know,” you chuckle through your tears. “But if I bring Mel back home, there is to be absolutely no football talk.”

“Deal,” he laughs. “I’m not trying to get our house lit on fire.”

You thank him again, tell him you love him and hang up. 

That weekend, you go out and buy a bunch of Philadelphia sports apparel; your credit card statement this month is going to be a doozy. But if it means you’ll get Melissa back, it’ll be worth it.

On Monday, you show up in your baseball gear, rooting for the Phillies as they play against the Cincinnati Twins. It gets the redhead’s attention, just slightly. But she turns her head when you look in her direction.

You wear your Flyers gear the next day. That gets Gregory’s attention.

The Sixers are the next. Janine grins.

You had even bought a Philadelphia Union jersey that you wear on Thursday. Jacob tells you how massively underrated they are and that he thinks they deserve to have a bigger following.

When you come in on Friday, not clad in Eagles gear like Melissa thought you would be, that is the final straw for her. She has you backed into a corner telling you that you can pretend to bleed Philly all you want, but at the end of the day you’re just a traitor.

You let her get up in your face, red with anger. You know that you didn’t wear it because you’re saving it for Monday- when they play.

You actually managed to get a ticket to the game, one next to hers- not that she knows it. You thank Barbara profusely when she’s able to get you the name of Melissa’s guy and where her tickets for this game are. Your plan is to show up in your new Jalen Hurts jersey that you spent a fortune on and win her back. You don’t want to lose her. Never. 

You race home after school to change out of your green shirt that you wore to school and into your Hurts jersey and a pair of leggings. You grab the baseball cap that you bought and pop it on your head before heading out to your car.

You park your car for the ridiculous amount of money they’re charging before going to find your seat. 

As you approach though, you see someone new with Melissa- someone you’ve never seen before. She has an arm around the woman’s waist like the way she used to hold you. You convince yourself it’s just a friend and continue on your way to your seat. But then she plants a kiss to the new woman’s lips, and your world shatters.

You might be at a football game, but you should be at a Phillies game with their unofficial anthem playing.

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh no

And I'm right over here, why can't you see me? Oh no

And I'm giving it my all

But I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh

I keep dancing on my own

So far away, but still so near

The lights come on, the music dies

But you don't see me standing here

[nothoughts-onlywomen]

Pink Floyd’s The Wall

This BTS photo has really piqued my interest. Not just because it’s clearly a hint at something for season 5, but also because it happens to be one of my favorite albums ever. So, I thought I’d do a deep dive into how it might factor into the next season.

Full disclaimer: All these ideas I’m about to verbal vomit will make more sense if you watch the film here and/or listen to the album here. I truly recommend you seek it out. Far and away, it’s one of my favorite films/albums, and it’s stood the test of time. In fact, there are certain sequences that may be a little triggering in our current US political climate (I’m thinking of the “In The Flesh/Run Like Hell/Waiting for the Worms” sequence).

War. The Wall is about war; namely, the bitter uselessness of it. The film has a lot of anti-war imagery. Young soldiers wounded and vulnerable, doves exploding into crows, a bloody cross, etc. The film ends with a culturally diverse group of children picking up rubble from the war. There’s a beautiful image where a child pours out a Molotov cocktail. The meaning there is that children are taught to hate and kill, and once they are, the joy of youth is smothered by it. Now I can think of a few scenarios where this is relevant to our crew. This could have something to do with the war against Vecna, in that our kiddos are so young to be fighting this war, and that it will inevitably chip away parts of them. For some, it may take limbs, or even lives. There may also be an assertion that Henry Creel was taught to hate, rather than it being an inevitable part of him. El suggested this at the end of season 4, when she asserts to Vecna that Papa made him a monster. The nuance within the anti-war message of The Wall is that the main character, Pink, lost his father in World War II. Henry Creel’s father went to war (the exact same war, in fact) which is an interesting similarity, but I think greater parallels should be drawn between Pink and Henry Creel in terms of how their relationship with their father (or lack thereof) led to their emotional erosion. And when I’m referring to Henry’s father, I’m not necessarily talking about Victor, though their relationship may have been complex. I’m referring to Dr. Brenner as well. Now the major difference between Pink and Henry - at least, so far - is that Pink is shown to have a soft, gentle side to him. This gets smothered as his emotional wall grows taller. I don’t know if Vecna ever had anything of the sort, but we know that Will is nothing if not gentle. And if they’re going to draw parallels between Will and Henry next season, I have to think there’s some meaning in there somewhere.

Conformity. It should be noted that the film takes place during World War II, so the conformity themes were especially prevalent in those days - the days of Hitler and the Nazi regime. Pink attends a school where the children all wear masks and stand on an assembly line, eventually to be thrown into a meat grinder. All very heavy-handed symbolism, I know. But the idea is that society attempts to suppress individuality and corner the youth into becoming part of the mindless whole. Blessedly, toward the end of the school sequence, the kids all rip off their masks and rebel. Now, in reference to our friends in Hawkins, this could be a nod to how the group has never been afraid to be the “freaks,” and that conformity is meaningless to them. Stranger Things has always reveled in the beauty of being yourself in the face of societal labels. The Wall also utilizes hammers in much of its imagery, which is supposed to symbolize the hammer pounding a nail into submission. With the individual being the nail, and the oppressive whole being the hammer. To me, this hearkens back to the “hive mind” idea. The Mind Flayer operates from this hive mind, and so any deviation from this would be quickly and mightily suppressed. I also addressed the idea of the “hive mind” in my theory about the Wrinkle in Time Easter egg, and how the planet Camazotz adopts this same concept (read here if you feel so inclined). Will Vecna be this deviation? If not, who will? One of the kids? Will Dart break away from an army of demogorgons to save Dustin? I can’t see the Mind Flayer being thrilled about it regardless of how it manifests.

Emotional isolation. Pink undergoes a descent into emotional isolation. The wall itself is symbolic of the emotional wall he builds around his heart, insofar each negative event in his life is “another brick in the wall.” Once his emotional isolation is complete, he becomes callous and disconnected with others. He fantasizes about committing atrocities, even becoming a Hitler-like figure in his imaginings. Such emotional isolation is likely present within Vecna as well, as only someone with a real disconnection from their emotions could kill people in the ways that Vecna has. That scary face on the poster, in fact, is emotion, trying to break free of the wall. A scream of agony from within. Perhaps the Duffers will explore this within Vecna. Perhaps Vecna has some small shred of humanity left that the group will try to capitalize upon. At the climax of The Wall, Pink puts himself on trial in his mind with a judge that is a literal asshole (yes, it’s as batshit as it sounds), and the wall is torn down within him. The album ends with a spoken message that loops into the beginning track, suggesting that the conundrum of emotional wall-building will never end. Perhaps the group will attempt to tear down Vecna’s emotional walls. The Duffers are good enough writers to make us feel at least some empathy for Vecna, if we hadn’t already, and this might just be a continuation of this. There is also the possibility that one of our other kiddos starts to emotionally isolate. It could be any of them: Mike, Will, Lucas, Dustin, El, or Max. I’m less inclined to believe it would be one of the older kids, though they’ve all certainly got their own demons. None of them will become as twisted as Vecna, of course, but I could see them struggling against their own emotional walls. We’ve seen Max do a bit of this already. It would be a real shot to the heart if the Duffers utilized a deeply sad track like “Nobody’s Home” or a wistful, melancholic tune like “Comfortably Numb” to describe Max’s consciousness literally being absent from her at the moment. I think Will is also an ideal candidate for this concept, especially if (as I suggested earlier), we are going to draw similarities between him and Henry Creel. The ending song on the album, “Outside the Wall,” postulates that those who truly love you will walk up and down outside your emotional wall, banging on it, trying to tear it down and thus forge deeper connection. We’ve seen this happen with Max a bit, and I could certainly see it happening with Will, too.

Mental illness. Pink is suggested to have a mental illness. He’s not particularly easy to slap a diagnosis on (though based on the information we do have, I might have put him in the schizoid/schizotypal/schizoaffective territory. Depression with psychotic features at the very least). Mental illness isn’t a topic that heavily explored in Stranger Things, though season 4 definitely had some poignant things to say about depression. But I’m wondering - if they do decide to touch on this somewhat - if this will hint at a deeper dive into Vecna’s psyche. Killing small animals is generally a precursor to actual murder, and this was certainly the case when it came to Henry Creel, but we have yet to really unpack all of this. We’ve gotten hints. Vecna noting that he “never forgets a kill” and “they are always with me” is a very interesting concept I will be curious to learn more about.

I would love to hear any additional thoughts on this.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Looks Clear

This is part 8 of Snow In The Dark. I hope you like it :)

Fic Summary: Snow has never known who she was. Being raised in the streets made her strong but lonely. That changed when she met Jack them becoming as close as sisters. She thought she found her family. That all changes when she crashes on a planet with only one rule. Stay in the light.

Part Summary: Snow along with the others decied the best way to make it off the planet alive.

Riddick x OC Snow

Warnings: Language.

Let me know if you want to be tagged :P : @here4thespice @amarokofficial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @pinkcrystal44 @goblingirlsarah @shelbyteller @classyunknownlover

Part 1 Part 7

Knowing that light hurts the beasts trying to hurt us, everyone quickly takes inventory of everything that makes light.

Despite how bad it looked or not caring how it looked I stuck close to Riddick. He kept me alive more than once today.

Plus I felt calmer around him. More myself. More in control. Something about being next to a man you knew could handle anything that got thrown at him.

So I stood next to him as I stood around the burning cutting torch trying to figure out a plan.

“So we got one cutting torch, we got two hand lights. There’s gotta be something we can rip out of the crash ship.”

“Spirts.” Paris says leaning forward to fan himself.

I was humid and stuffy in this room but it was better than being eaten alive.

“Anything over 45 proof burns rather well.”

“Mmm molotovs my favorite.” I say earning a snort from Jack.

I wink at her and smile. 

“Look, it's better than nothing.” Johns says, glaring at me.

“It was a joke.” I say, lifting my hands up.

I don’t even react as I feel the warm body heat behind me. Johns eyes bouncing to the figure behind me told me who it was.

I don’t know what I did to have the killer of the group be my bodyguard but I would take it. 

“How many bottles you got?” Carolyn asks, getting us in order once again.

“I don’t know, maybe ten.”

“Okay.” She says, nodding and looking over at Johns.

“Johns you got some flares.”

“So, maybe we got enough light.” She says, nodding.

“Enough for fucking what?” Johns asks.

“How thick are you? Do you wanna tell him or should I?” I ask, looking at Johns then Carolyn.

She holds her hand up as to tell me to shut up or she has this.

“We stick to the plan. We get the four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.” 

“Look I hate to ruin a beautiful theory with an ugly fact.” Paris says standing up.

“But that sand cat is solar. It won't run at night.” He says walking over to Carolyn.

“So we carry the cells. We drag them whatever it takes.”

“You mean tonight with all those things out there?” Jack asks, holding onto her legs rocking back and forth. She was scared but doing a great job of holding it in.

I move to sit next to her wrapping my arms around her.

“It’s better to go now then wait them out. We don’t know how long the eclipse is going to last.” I say gently rubbing her back.

“Alright, how long can this thing last?” Johns asks, making me bite my tongue from starting something with him. That wouldn’t help us survive.

“A few hours? A day tops?” He says, very matter of fact.

I clench my jaw ready to shut up but decide against it.

“Didn’t we have this conversation a few hours ago? These people wouldn’t have left everything they own or the ship for that matter if they only had to deal with these things for a few hours or a day tops.” I say spitting the last word.

“I had the impression from the model the two planets were moving as one and there would be a lasting darkness.” Imam says looking at Johns.

“Thank you.” I say, holding my hand out towards Imam.

“Maybe you can only understand men.” I say earning a glare but he doesn't respond to me.

“Mmm.. These suns gotta come up sometime. And if these creatures are phonic about light then we just sit tight and we let the sun come up.” He says, meeting my gaze, the look on his face like he figured it out.

“Okay, where is the water we are going to drink? Or food or oh yeah we’ll probably freeze because deserts get cold at night time and a few days without sun will most likely kill us. If the lack of water and food doesn't. That’s if I put up with you that long.” I say, clenching my jaw.

“Why you little-.” Johns says starting to stand up. 

“Okay enough.” Carolyn says stepping in the middle of the room blocking our line of sight from each other.

“I’m sure somebody else said the same thing, locked inside that coring room.” 

“We need to think about everybody now. Especially the kid.” He says pointing at all of us.

“How scared is this poor boy gonna be out there in the dark.”

“Oh don’t you bring him into this.” I say, clenching my jaw and standing up. 

 “Yeah, don't use him like that.” Carolyn says.

“Like what?” Johns asks, looking disgusted.

“As a smoke screen.” Carolyn says at the same time I speak.

“As a shield.” 

“You deal with your own fear.”

“Yeah it’s okay to be scared Johns.”

“Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth for two seconds and let me come up with a plan that dosn’t involve mass suicide.”

“You came up with one. It's sitting here waiting for the lights to go out so those things can eat us.” I say, the sounds of the creatures outside whaling making me take a breath.

Them clearly hearing us.

Breathing the breath out slowly I move to sit back next to Jack, wrapping my arm around her.

“I’m waiting.” Carolyn says, making me smirk.

I may have to change my mind about her after all.

“How much you weigh Johns?”

“What’s it matter Carolyn?” 

“How much?” She snaps back.

“Around seventy nine kilos.”

“Because you’re seventy nine kilos of gutless white meat.”

“And that’s why you can’t think of a better plan and you want to use Jack as an excuse.” I say joining in.

“Is that fucking right?” He says jumping up, snatching his gun out as he does. 

I don’t flinch.

I watch Riddick stand up stepping in front of him, blocking him from getting to any of us.

“Where are you going?” Johns asks, pressing the barrel of the gun into RIddick’s chin.

I have to stop myself from standing up. The anger I have towards Johns is starting to get to its boiling point. I wanted to hurt him but that would help any of us get out of this.

“This solves nothing.” Imam says, as if he was reading my thoughts.

I watch Riddick smirk, him lifting his goggles and looking over at Johns as the sound of tapping fills the air.

My eyes dropped to the sound seeing a homemade blade right on John’s crotch.

“Okay.” Johns says taking a step and sitting back down.

I couldn’t tell if he was smirking or giving him a fake smile. The look on Johns face creeping me out either way.

My head snaps to the right when Carolyn moves to crouch next to me and Jack.

“They’re afraid of our light. That means we don’t have to be so afraid of them.” She says calmly. Her eyes lifted up to meet mine.

I smile at her then down at Jack.

“You know I will make sure you are safe.” I say, rubbing her back. Jack nods, looking nervous but less scared.

“And you are sure you can get us there? Even in the dark?” Iman asks, looking over at us.

“No I can’t.” She says standing up.

“But he can.” She says looking over at Riddick.

I look up at him, his goggles still off him turning to look over his shoulder at her, the light hitting his face just right to show the silver shine in his eyes.

“That’s the smartest thing you said all day.” I say looking up at her.

She nods and bends down picking up the torch.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Carolyn leads us back to the entrance of the ship. She uses the torch to shine under the ship in case there are any creatures hiding.

Sticking close together everyone starts to head out following her.

I’m stopped when a large hand grabs my wrist. Looking up over my shoulder I meet the face of Riddick.

Us being swallowed by darkness as the others leave out ahead of us.

“You know not everyone is gonna make it out of here.” He says, his low rubbing voice settling around me. It almost reminds me of the way a cat purrs. Something animal about it.

“Then let's make sure you, me, and Jack are on the list of the ones that do.”

“Is that all you care about?” He asks, sounding like a loaded question which I was trying not to read into.

“Honestly? Yes.”

He smirks, letting go of my wrist and heading towards the door. I stay close to him. The group of us stayed quiet as we walked outside up to the other side of the crashed ship.

“Riddick.” Carolyn whispers it is too risky for us to keep moving forward.

Riddick slides past me, his hand brushing my lower back as he does. I’m shocked by the shiver it shoots up my spine.

He walks to the front of the group, slipping his goggles up to look inside.

“Looks clear.” He calls back.

Johns pushes past me practically shoving me over as he sneaks up next to Riddick, gun in hand. Him having a light on the end of it.

I have to bite my lip to keep from snatching it out of his hand and beating him with it. Thoughts of stabbing him in his sleep enter my mind.

As soon as Johns light shines into the ship a monster comes jumping out towards them screeching.

Riddick drops to the ground, out of the way while Johns jumps to the right landing on his back.

The creature flies over our head away from the light. All of us ducking down. Jack’s grip on my hand tightening.

“You said"clear "." Johns says looking up at Riddick him slightly down a slope.

“I said it looks clear.” Riddick says back, making me smile at the sass.

“Well what’s it look like now?” He asks.

Riddick raises his head taking a quick glance before turning to look back shrugging.

“Looks clear.” He says, making me snort a giggle.

Everyone turned to look at me in a shocked horror.

“I’m sorry that wasn’t meant to be funny, I know.” I say, as Riddick and Johns get up.

Johns casually walked into the ship, everyone following behind. Jack rushed ahead to stay close to Carolyn’s light.

Riddick doesn't move until I reach his side.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I think the exhaustion is finally catching up to me.” I say, feeling heat rise up my cheeks.

Riddick doesn't answer him, lifting a hand to grab my chin. I don’t speak as he moves my head to the left and the right, most likely looking at the bruises there.

Taking a shaky breath I let it out as his touch fell from my face, my skin almost burning from where he touched it.

“I thought I smelt blood.” He says, I almost feel like more to himself than me. But he didn’t seem like the type to talk to himself.

“Is my lip bleeding?” I question reaching up to touch my lip.

“Must have been something else.” He says, turning towards the ship, the clicking sound of the creatures starting to grow louder.

“We need to leave.” He says.

I nod following him into the ship.

[ms-hells-bells]

I think... Genuinely yes, it would be much better if they were up front about it being a toy commercial rather than coopting feminist language to sell the toys while pretending it ISNT a commercial. Because there is no amount of feminist words you can insert into a movie made by Mattel to sell barbies that would change its use of a political movement to push consumer goods. (I sound meaner than I'm trying to but you get me I hope). It's not about preferring it be a toy commercial or not, it's just a toy commercial no matter what. Delivering a good message in a watered down, confusing and preachy way for the sake of sales is not going to do us favors, I don't think.

i know it's a toy commercial, and it's hypocritical (even greta gerwig herself said that), but these movies get made no matter what. i was pretty cynical and against it beforehand, and there's still the whole hype and environment around it that i hate, and in the end it is consumerist capitalism (and being self aware doesn't remove the harm it does), but like i said, when i saw women and girls of all ages clapping and cheering and asking questions when seeing these characters saying that women are in a patriarchy and are in fact oppressed, and femininity is a part of that, when we currently live in a major anti feminist backlash where even leftist men refute the existence of modern misogyny, then i don't have the heart to completely denounce it.

it is obviously not truly feminist or a solution to anything, but i have always said that true liberal feminism in its original form (which is to strive for equality within the existing system) is supposed to be the moderate sister movement to radical feminism, where while we're seeking solutions for complete system overhaul and massive societal change, they bandaid the gaps in the meanwhile by being the more accessible and welcoming side, and helping women while more serious progress gets made. an equivalent would be moderate protesters who give first aid and create molotovs, and make good press, while the radicals throw the bombs and fight the police and overrun officials.

i think getting millions of women and girls worldwide to think about how they're treated in life, and how unfair things are, is likely more than you or i will ever do for women in our lifetimes.

[fransfilth]

hi. i'm the anon who talked about the ansbach attacker and eslov/kristianstad. wanted to sprinkle this in here too. BIG fucking ask incoming.

do you know about the volsk school attacker, the kerch copycat criminal? 15-yr old daniil pulkin walked into his school with an icepick and 2 defective molotovs, and brutally injured and blinded a 12-yr old girl before fleeing immediately afterward out of fear. he idolized vladislav roslyakov and also had a prior interest in columbine, which he had possibly referenced both in the shooting by the fact his shirt was a mimic of dylan's as opposed to eric's. he probably felt himself as the dylan to roslyakov's eric.

something also interesting to point out: his shirt wasn't written with something like "WRATH" or even roslyakov's "HATRED"; it was "disappointment" in the same font roslyakov used. his reasoning is that while he felt himself disappointed by the way he percieved society to treat him, he also felt that he himself was the disappointment that society hated. he was suicidal and was also a mental health patient prior to the attack.

pulkin had recorded a video before the attack and after he fled. screenshots do exist of the videos, and you can see the shirt he wore during.

wanted to tell you about this. interesting about how it was pretty much not only just a copycat, but a copycat OF a copycat. although pulkin did have inspiration from columbine, he idolized roslyakov much more than either of the columbine shooters.

felt it was fairly interesting. have a nice day.

hiii, omg i absolutely haven't been paying attention, i didn't even notice you were also gregor r. anon that's so cool! (medium long reply ahead)

i'm pretty sure i've seen the video pulkin recorded of himself and some brief infoposts about him but i never did any research myself. also did not know about the 'disappointment' thing, that's equally interesting as it's sad honestly. i feel like during the past few years there's been noticably more 'copycat of a copycat' situations, considering most columbine copycats now have a reputation and "following" of their own. i just had to think of recent colt gray making many adam lanza references (even though yes, he was also a columbiner), while adam lanza himself was definitely influenced by other perpetrators like eric and dylan or seung hui cho as well.

i assume it's due to the fact that 14 year olds nowadays will find it more easy to relate to someone who lived through the things that lead up to a mass shooting in the mid 2010s than two kids who were teenagers in the 90s, especially considering the rapid development of social media, you understand what i'm getting at. oh i actually meant to cut this short this time-

anyway thank you so much for the ask(s), i'm always pretty invested in those!!! :) take care

[mistysharks]

Five times Steve walked in on Eddie and Chrissy (and one time they walked in on him)

Read on Ao3 Rating:M Pairing: Hellcheer + Stedissy (preslash)

1.

The first time it happens, nobody is to blame. Not really.

They're minutes away from their final showdown with Vecna, dressed in the finest battlegear the army surplus can provide, and for the first time since all of this started, Eddie and Chrissy are alone.

She's the one to take the initiative, getting up on her tiptoes, cradling Eddie's face with a hopeful look. And listen, though a stolen RV has never been on Eddie's list of top five making out spots, he is not letting this opportunity slip him by. He meets her half way, hopes that his breath isn't as disgusting as he imagines, and finally, finally, he catches her lips in his.

It is meant to be a kiss for luck, perhaps a promise of more, later, if there is to be such a thing as later. With a hitched breath and a fist in his shirt, though, Chrissy quickly turns up the heat.

It's definitely fueled by the adrenaline of the looming danger, as well as the days they've just spent circling each other, quick touches and searching looks finally reaching its apex in soft gasps and little moans as Eddies confidence builds and he lets himself be just a little bit greedy, a little bit pushy, pulling her bottom lip in between his and biting down. If the noise she makes is anything to go by, Chrissy does not mind that in the slightest and Eddie has just enough time to think how the hell did I get this lucky before-

Before the door to the RV opens, followed by a very surprised looking Steve Harrington, arms full of molotov cocktails, makeshift spears and god knows what else. There is a brief moment of frozen confusion, followed by a loud squeak from Chrissy as she hides her face against Eddies chest, and an awkward laugh from Eddie himself, before Steve finally turns on his tail with a mouthed ”sorry” over the shoulder before he shimmy's the door back closed with his hip.

As fist kisses go, though, Eddie still thinks it was pretty fucking fantastic.

2.

The second time, however, it just might be Eddie's fault.

The thing is – he's only just out of the hospital, battered and bruised but back on his feet, finally , and Chrissy is a god-damned dream in her oversized jumper, biting her lip and asking if maybe they can do this thing in like, a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of way, and jesus, he's only a human man, all right?

You can't really blame him for forgetting the fact that Steve is still right outside, grabbing their bags from the car. And it's Chrissy, actually, that encourages them down on the sofa, straddling him in that suddenly-confident way that he still isn't quite used to from her, but loves.

And... yeah, maybe he loses track of anything and everything for a moment, letting his hand snake up her shirt to cop, just like, a smidgeon of a feel in the exact same moment that Steve clears his throat from the very much still open (oops) trailer doorway...

So yeah, maybe, totally, absolutely Eddie's bad, that one.

Anyway...

3.

The third time it happens, they blame it on the alcohol. Well, that, and the fact that Chrissy's parents absolutely hate Eddie, and Wayne has been... hovering a bit since the whole near-death thing, so alone time has been... hard to find, to say the least.

So when they get a little too tipsy during a barbeque at Steve's the upstairs bathroom starts looking more and more like the perfect solution to all their problems.

If they had been less drunk, they might have remembered that after everything, their merry party has developed a tendency to worry. Steve, especially, with his mother hen fussing and guard dog vigilance.

It would be sweet, really, if it hadn't manifested in a knock on the door at the exact moment Eddie gets his first, proper taste of Chrissy. She's leaning on the sink, one of her legs up on his shoulder, fingers gripping onto the porcelain behind her, her breath hitching in surprise as he stills against her.

”Everyone ok in there?” Comes Steve's voice, soft and only slightly concerned and Eddie... Eddie should answer. Should pull his face away from between her legs, make some excuse since he is the less compromised of the two of them, and let Steve be on his merry way.

Buut...the thing most people forget about Eddie is that he's kind of an asshole, when it comes down to it. And he really, really doesn't want to stop. So, he doesn't do any of that. Instead, he pushes a little closer, lets his tongue move again, tentatively, leaving some room for Chrissy to pull him off, but no protest comes. In fact, she tightens her grip keeping him in place and – fuck, he likes her so much.

After a moment of almost-silence, the knock comes again.

”Guys?”

”Fine!” Chrissy answers, a little too loud, as Eddie pushes his tongue lower, dipping inside. ”Totally- totally fine. Be- ah- be down in a minute!”

There's a moment of silence on the other side as Steve's tipsy mind must be processing, before..

”Oh my god, really?” He says, and Eddie can hear his eye roll through the goddamn door. Steve leaves after that though, with a muttered ”All right, all right, have fun I guess” but to be honest, Eddie's kind of stopped listening.

And Chrissy? Well, she's not complaining.

4.

The fourth time it happens, it is absolutely Chrissy's fault.

Because Eddie's determined to be good, ok? Sexual frustration and the lack of privacy be damned, Steve let them stay over out of the goodness of his heart. Which means no funny business in his guestroom. Because they're friends now, and friends don't have sex in their friends beds, right? That's.. bro code, or whatever.

What he hasn't accounted for, of course, is Chrissy. With her wandering hands and inviting lips and absolutely filthy whispers - Jesus H Chris t- and Eddie's morning wood is right there Ok?

What is he supposed to do, tell Chrissy no, I don't think I would like a blowjob today, thank you very much? Yeah, no chance.

Thank god for Steve's giant, fluffy comforter being able to obscure most of what was happening below it though, because of course theyve barely gotten started when the man himself casually sticks his head through the door.

”Hey guys, I'm gonna have to clear out in a bit, gotta drive Robin to school” he says, casual as anything, toothbrush still in hand and Eddie.. Eddie's forgotten what a normal face is supposed to look like. In fact, now that he thinks about it, it is entirely possible that he's never made a normal face in his life.

Meanwhile, though she's mercifully stopped the bobbing motion of her head, Chrissy's tongue is still very much actively moving on him and ah – this is revenge for the bathroom incident, isn't it? Shit.

”Yeah, uh, ok!” Eddie manages to bite out as her tongue swirls gently around the head of his dick ”be- be right there?” followed by what is probably the most deranged smile ever to grace his face, and … finger guns? Fuck .

”Cool. Robin made some waffles if you want to grab them on the way out,” Steve continues, voice still normal as he indicates with the toothbrush in the direction of the kitchen ”they're a bit burnt but still pretty good”

He retreats from the doorway after that, giving Eddie exactly a second of relief when he thinks that maybe, maybe they're in the clear, before Steve stops the door with his hand just as it is about to close, sending one last smirk Eddie's way.

”Oh, and don't last too long, will you? Don't want to be late.”

Aaah yeah, ok, he definitely knows.

In the end, Eddie gets there there embarassingly quickly, before spending the entire rest of the morning shovelling burnt waffles into his mouth because fuck if he's meeting anybody's eyes today.

5.

The fifth time, they are really fucking careful, ok? And... perhaps that is the problem.

He's convinced Wayne to head out for the night with his drinking buddies, and Chrissy's lied to her parents about staying over at Robins, and the walkie is turned off, the phone is unplugged, the door to the trailer is locked, and they are doing this.

By the end of the night, Eddie is going to be a virgin no more, or he is going to die trying. Which isn't a very romantic sentiment, sure, but it makes Chrissy laugh when he says it so...

And it starts off so well! A romantic pizza dinner (because fuck you and your enforced diets, Laura Cunningham), soft kisses on the counter, a movie half watched as they make out on the sofa, lazy kisses turning passionate as the tension builds.

They take their time removing each other's clothing, kissing scars and tattoos alike, giggling and gasping and breathing each other in, and …. It's perfect. So perfect that when she finally tells him she's ready, rising up on her knees before sinking down on him, inch by inch, it takes every ounce of his self restraint to stop him from blowing his load right then and there.

Slowly, they build up a rhythm, foreheads touching and hands entertwined and fuck- Eddie thinks that maybe death is on the table after all because jesus christ- and then-

And then a voice emerges from just outside the trailer, causing both of them to freeze mid-motion.

”I bet he's just asleep or something, Jesus Henderson, calm down-” it's Steve's voice. Of course it's Steve's voice. Followed by the unmistakable jingling of keys in the door and suddenly Eddie remembers, with startling clarity, that he's given his spare keys to Steve. In case of emergencies. Like perhaps if one of them went awol and... unplugged their phone. Ahh Shit.

In the seconds they have before the door opens, they manage to share a look, both horribly aware that there is no way in hell they're going to get out of this situation in a dignified manner – at least Chrissy's skirt is covering her somewhat – and then the door opens.

Outwards, thank fuck, and perhaps Steve had learnt something from all their previous... encounters, because he only opens it a smidgeon, sticking his head in, not leaving any room for any of the gaggle of children undoubtedly behind him to see. Eddie sends a quick prayer of thanks to god, satan, jesus, whoever is listening for that, and also for Steve, who takes one look at them – meeting Eddie's deer in the headlights look with his own identical one, before he slams the door shut.

”Steve what the hell?” Henderson exclaims, cut off by Steve's strangled sounding voice-

”DEAD RACOON”

”what?”

”There's a dead racoon in there. Could- could be a health hazard. Your parents would kill me if I let you close to it. Also, actually, haha, funny story I just remembered Eddie told me he was going to the hideout tonight- isn't that funny, totally slipped my mind-” he says it all in a loud, manic voice and Dustin is definitely not going to believe any of it but it seems to be enough to make them leave, thank god.

”...Fuck, we're going to owe him the biggest cake after this” Eddie whispers as their voices dissappear in the distance, leaning forward into Chrissy's shoulder, hands a little shaky with adrenaline. Her answering ” Yeah ” is a little weak, a little shaky too.

”You uh... wanna keep going?” He asks after a moment of silence because- he's still kind of inside of her and apparently his dick is still on board for some undoubtedly fucked-up reason and-

”Is it bad if I say that I do?” She says, looking embarrassed. Oh chrissy. A woman of his own heart.

”Not at all, sweetheart.” he says, smiling into her hair. ”not at all”

+1

They do bake him a cake. It's awful, the frosting is dry and cracked and Eddie should NOT have been in charge of the piping because he managed to spell ”Sorry” wrong, and who does that? 

He’s never showed up at the Harringtons unannounced before though, and when they reach the door he's worried, suddenly.

”What if his parents are home?” He says, hand hovering over the doorbell ”They definitely wouldn't be happy to see me ”

”I don't see a car?” Chrissy counters, clearly not as worried.

”Chrissy, he's got like, five garages.” He counters, which she admits is a fair point.

They spend a few more minutes going over their options - ”what if we leave the cake out here?” ”In the rain?” ”We could break into his bedroom?” ”you would break your neck climbing up” “hey-”

In the end, they decide the safest option is probably just to peek in through the living room window. This... turns out to be a bad idea. Because yeah, Steve's parents aren't home. Steve... very much is though. And he's clearly not expecting company.

In fact, the lights are down low, and if it wasn't for the light of the TV, Steve wouldn't be visible at all, where he's lying on the sofa. But he is. Lying on his back, his shirt tucked up to his armpits, his sweatpants pushed down just below his hips, and he's – He's touching himself, there's no doubt about that, one hand on his dick and the other in his hair as he arches, a little shiny with sweat, against the sofa and-

”Holy shit” It's chrissy's voice that says it, though he wholeheartedly agrees, and Eddie's just trying to reach out to stabilize himself, really, but the rain has made the windowsill slippery and all his other hand can reach is Chrissy and before he know it, they are both tumbling into the flowerbed, knocking one of the dead plants off of it pedestal, sending the pot crashing into the ground and them next to it, Chrissy's weight knocking the air out of him and for a moment, and he is sure he sees stars.

And then, the front door opens to reveal a flustered looking Steve squinting at them in the dark, clothes mercifully covering him properly now because Eddie's brain still hasn't decided where to file that image yet.

When he sees that it's them, a little muddy and a lot embarrassed, who are hanging out in his flower bed he relaxes visibly.

”What the hell, guys?” he says, but there’s not much fire behind the words.

”uh..” Eddie says intelligently.

”We can explain?” Chrissy says, gesturing vaguely where the bag containing the cake still sits on Steve's front porch. He bends over to pick it up while Eddie and Chrissy try to detangle themselves with minimum mud-transference (it goes poorly) and peers inside.

”So...ry for the Sex?” Steve reads out as he looks at the cake, brows furrowed .

”It was meant to say sorry you had to walk in on us in a delicate situation multiple times but...” Eddie shrugs at Chrissy as he pulls her up from the ground.

”It didn't fit” She fills in, and Steve sighs, shaking his head at them both before opening the door wider behind himself.

”Well, I guess this means we’re even. Come on, you might as well come in if we're gonna eat this thing”

And they do.

The next morning, Robin finds the cake, half eaten in Steve’s fridge, now only spelling out The Sex and asks a lot of pointed questions, none of which Steve is able to answer truthfully. She does figure out it has something to do with Eddie and Chrissy though, and gives them both the stink-eye for a week. Eddies… Not sure if they deserve it or not.

[maranull]

Thought dump —I guess rant— prompted by the last rb. If it doesn't make sense it's because I don't give a shit about how easy this reads, actually.

Some folks, queer and not, see trans people as trans first and people second, if they even view us as people at all.

Every piece of media, of social voices, of queer history, of everything screams that a trans woman wants and has to fight. Has to be out and proud in a country that wouldn't think twice to attack or kill us. Has to be strong, has to be a rock for other queers, has to be the idea of the legends that were Sylvia Rivera and Martha P. Jonson and all the others. We also have to be pretty. We have to want to fuck every single person. We have to be loud and we have to be funny and we have to be this idea of a trans woman that internet people have.

I personally can't be that ideal of transness the internet has. I'm constantly scared as hell. I'm both on hrt and also stealthing like my life depends on it, which tbf, it does in one way or another. I now have to bind and I hate it, yet I do it and a binder is on its way to continue to do it better. I look like shit and that's not self-deprecating bullshit, rather a fact that I accept more than I accept your expectations of me. Would I prefer to be out? Yes. Can I do that without placing my livelihood and potentially life at risk? No.

And again and again, both media and other queer people try and tell me if my country, my culture, and my social circles are safe or not. As if they know better than me. "It's hard but it's manageable," says the rich trans woman on the TV. "It's fine, really," says the one with a supportive job and social circle. "You're overeating," says the asshole from a progressive culture.

None of them have seen the disgust and the hate in people's eyes. One has a car, the other is with company and the third is miles and miles away. They haven't seen a whole train wagon quiet down the moment a trans woman enters, they haven't seen how they looked at her. How her shoulders and head were fallen and how tight her jaw was. They haven't seen how ready to fight she was and more importantly, had to be, just taking the train for two stops.

Only one trans woman, a random one in a random article, said it how it is in Greece: Every step as a visible trans woman is a risk. Every walk through an empty road, every interaction at a store, every conversation with a stranger, every appearance in a public space and every time you let someone learn where you live is a potentially life threatening risk. It's a coin flip each time. Do I return home unharmed or not? Heads or tails? Will I be safe in my own house? Heads? Or tails?

And some are brave, some have support, some are rich and some pass perfectly and some do make it unharmed. Others get assaulted, forced into sex work, killed in their own homes, go "missing", get buried with their dead-names by families that hated them. I'm not able nor willing to take that on, until I reach the point were I'll have to. I'm not the internet's idea of a trans woman. I am a trans woman, like an actual fucking person, in a highly hostile environment with absolutely no one having my back.

And I come here, and the progressive internet in general, and I occasionally see cunts from progressive states and countries that act like that being conforming is the most vile thing you can do as a trans person. Passing? Wanting to live without turbulence? Wanting to not have molotovs thrown at your window? Fake tranny. Acting as if transness is a specific nonconforming ideal that all "real" trans people must achieve. And as if we all have to want to be queer ambassadors. As if we all have the freedom to be. (Since this is the zero reading comprehension website, I'll add that I'm not saying that being non-conforming is somehow bad or that everyone that has that as their gender or appearance goal is an inconsiderable asshole.)

I don't have a point to make, I don't think. But I do have a gigantic FUCK YOU to anyone that sees trans people as their idea of transness and not as individual people in varying cultures, situations and mindsets. Guess that's my point. We are people, not ideas. And stop enforcing your ideas on our individualities.

[caineinthecorner]

Belphegor was actually the one interested in humans…..

How the fuck did you see my blog and went "oh yeah this person cares about canon I Must Correct Them Immediately". Bestie what blog did you read

Like, thanks. I will note this for future reference (I guess). But allow me to make it clear - since you aren't the first ask I get of this type and I’m tired of people trying to police my content - that I don't care about getting 100% of the lore right. Especially if, subjectively, it makes a weaker narrative.

I am not canon accurate. If that bothers you, or anyone else who might enter my blog, please literally just block me. I can't be assed.

A bit of a rant below the read more.

Allow me to explain my reasoning for Belphie: I think Belphegor shouldn't be interested in humans because A) It allows him to dehumanize them as the Wicked that basically destroyed his life, B) the topic would be traumatic as FUCK and he’s not the type to put effort in anything “hard”, any less traumatic, C) Avoidance and/or isolation - from the human culture, in this case - is a common grief response that would make thematic sense for the Avatar of Sloth, and D) He would deem himself above them and therefore why bother (dehumanization tactic).

Belphegor IS angry with humans, and I can view as believable that he would learn about them solely out of spite or something, but it is boring. In my personal opinion as a writer, the narrative punch of "These people ruined my life and I am angry, but I don't have the energy to enact said anger so I am just drowning in hate until I rot from the inside out. I hate, passionately, and nobody sees it. The world moves on and so do the people who hurt me. These feelings inside me will explode alongside me and I have accepted that fate. I am the definition of a molotov grenade, destined to explode and to hurt" is more fun than the same old hate boner always portrayed in media.

Belphegor doesn’t have a plan for killing humans. He’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how to process that hurt - specially against the tiredness in his bones - so he has to lash out against something to make the feelings go away. But it will not go away. And killing humanity won’t make him happy, either. So he stays stagnant as he plans nothing at all for an imaginary enemy, a species unknown to him except the fact that they took everything from him, so he doesn't have to blame himself in his grief.

He rots and he dwells in these horrible feelings, until he gets locked in the attic for what he believes is justified. Until he meets MC, and they free him, and his delusions reach a boiling point while against someone weaker.

Anger and depression are not mutually exclusive, especially with grief involved, and having that be demonstrated on the avatar of Sloth would be more resonant with the game's narrative. I guess. Also, projecting a bit on my end. I am so fucking tired.

[sxdomizer]

Ramble about anything and everything about your OCs?? I love to learn about them so much

Howdy anon! Happy to have you here, thank you kindly for your ask!

Hmm rambles rambles… I assume this is about my fortnite ocs, and I only have three at the moment, so I’ll do my best to include them all here! Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild ride

MOLOTOV

The silliest billy!!!

He wasn’t taught to write, so the way he holds utensils and supplies is similar to how a baby would. That is, with his fist. He can’t hold things otherwise, and he has tried. Old habits die hard.

To add to that, he’s ambidextrous! He constantly forgot which hand he was learning to write with, so he ended up learning with both!

Despite the fact that he constantly traded for cigarettes, he doesn’t smoke tobacco. He hates the taste. He did that as a way to get people to trust him, and as a conversation starter. You’d be surprised at how quickly a person can warm up to you once you do something as simple as offering a cigarette.

He does become a stoner later in life, though. That’s more up his alley.

He burned his hands constantly out of habit, and they became brittle and burnt in turn.

He lost part of his left pinky finger early on in his life, and later lost the ring finger of his other hand in a fight.

He was convinced into getting his hands replaced after that.

He can breathe, but mostly chooses not to unless he wants to smell something, talk, or smoke. Otherwise, he avoids it. He doesn’t have lungs, anyway.

He has extremely explosive anger issues that he quite effectively masks with his bubbly personality.

He has to get his eyebrow, moustache, and goatee repainted constantly. He paints his iris on occasion.

DENNY

The idiot that I hate

He’s a narcissist. Surprise!

He doesn’t have blood. It’s all maple syrup.

He’s sickeningly obsessed with his muscles. Maintaining them is easy, though, seeing as he’s a stack of pancakes. He’s all carb.

He smells wonderful— sickeningly sweet!

He’s buttermilk pancakes, to be specific. Don is bacon pancakes, Wendy is cinnamon, and Flapjack is blueberry!

He’s bisexual, but will deny it until he’s six feet under.

Out of the three, he’s got the highest alcohol tolerance.

He usually avoids consuming alcohol and smoking, though. Not too good on the long run, and the grind never stops.

He works as a mercenary, but most specifically he’s a sniper. He likes the anonymity.

Always takes time to admire the architecture of buildings that catch his eye. Very critical of modern architecture.

He misses his family.

Needs a punching bag. He’s too angry for his own good.

Also needs to get rid of his yee yee ass haircut.

BOSCO

Tumblr’s wife. The funnest guy

He comes off as quite intimidating to most. He’s a big guy, and he’s got quite a bit of power around his area.

He used to have long hair, but has since cut most of it off because it’s “more professional” that way. Disgraceful, society— do better.

He may or may not have a sibling. He doesn’t talk about them, for their own safety.

Partly deaf on one side. I’ll let you guess on which one.

He has a master’s degree in business! Smart guy, knows he could be doing better than Durr Burger; smart enough to know he has to keep a low profile, though.

A father figure of sorts to Heinz, who I still need to develop more.

He likes classic rock, but isn’t much of a music fan.

He’s got poliosis! That’s why there are white patches in his hair; he hates it, but has bigger things to be self conscious about.

He’s confident, but knows he’s seen better days. Misses his youth. Regrets getting into the mercenary business. Something something he’s kinda depressed.

The closest thing Denny’s had to a relationship.

Big romantic, but would rather not risk it.

That’s about it because i can’t quite come up with anything else at the moment,,,, gets gears turning, though, and now i know i have to draw them more

Thanks for your ask again! I’m more than happy to answer your questions ^o^

[victorlincolnpine]

you know, the funny part about people shitting on anybody that's talking about how fucked this system is, is that they very consistently portray anyone that protests of the system or makes calls for action to be "posers"

as if the info being spread is nothing but molotov cocktail recipes and dime store YA novel fantasies, and not, you know, *fucking safety precautions for protesting*

it's an infantaizing viewpoint to narrow down people having had enough with this bullshit to a hot-air filled caricature that does not act as they say

which is ironic, because the denouncers seem to think that doing *nothing* but voting or "calling your reps" is somehow gonna make things better

I see a lot of the shit my bitch of mother would say to infantalize my very real grievances with how she treated me and my brothers. In fact, I see this type of shit from a lot of people who either do not care about the status quo or are openly malicious in their desire to preserve it

now, unlike the stupid motherfuckers I've seen, I'm not going to assign this to the realm of "propagandists in our midst"

no, this is coming from people that already fell for propaganda and see this shit as normal enough to be fixed with a pathetic committee or two. Folks who aren't bothered by the system enough to want it changed in any real capacity, or have internalized their abuse such that they defend the system that is killing them

in other words: folks that let fascism become their norm without realizing it

hate to break it to ya'll, but red or blue, you get fascism. That's not a debate. You've got one side that literally got folks to storm the capitol and the other side who is openly supporting a genocide overseas and has ended any and all support for the still ongoing pandemic here on our soil, whilst claiming there is none.

and I've heard some of you quite verbatim say "Biden supports genocide, but..." and it makes me want to tear my fucking eyes out for how utterly, disgustingly selfish you are. Seriously, those of you that say this, please tear your eyes out in my stead. You deserve that

There's a point where the game has to fucking end. And you all need to know when the rules of the game are designed to never let you win and always keep the game going. So playing by the rules will never, *ever* give you a win condition, let alone an actual win.

We're in a country with a staggering rate of misery and poverty and where it's in a lot of states illegal to be homeless. We openly accept that there's a certain condition of life where we are not allowed the right to live. And that condition is arbitrarily set by executioners and sales mongers.

Ya'll need to get your fucking heads out of your asses. And right skippy.

[weaponizedmoth]

Heya friend can't remember how exactly I ended up followin' you but from one lonely OC artist on tumblr to another I wanted to submit one of them emojis for the OC ask post you reblogged on here 🥰 because I know how much it sucks when you care about your guys that you created but no one asks about 'em. So! My submitted emojis are 💯, 🤍, and 🤔, and you can answer with as many or as few OCs as you feel like in whatever order makes the most sense for you ❤️ the more the merrier obviously, but idk how much effort you wanna put in for a single ask ahahaha basically please tell me things about your kids I would love to hear 💕

Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you. I thought you had followed me from Character Hub, but maybe you followed me there because you found me here??? Anyway, thank you for the follow on both accounts. Considering I have 20.000 OCs, and trust me I'd love to do all three question about all, I'm gonna pick the ones I believe will fit the questions better for each questions. Some OCs don't have facts others don't know and are open books for example, etc.

💯 - share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Hayden Metzler: He grew up in a cult town in the desert and hates high temperatures, he broke both his legs at the age of eight, he burned down a church with a molotov cocktail. Stacy Earnest: She hates being in her mother's plays and having to wear those outdated costumes, she's afraid Sally will get sick of her job and leave her, she thinks that she'll never beat the curse no matter what. Abigail Jones: All of her boyfriends looked a little like Cornelius cause she secretly thinks he's handsome, she wishes to be seventeen again, she wished her parents had prevented her from going into the public eye with her deficiency, no matter how much they needed the money from the interviews.

🤍 - what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

(I chose questionable for this because neutral and questionable are not synonyms, which made me a little confused, so I'll go with the morally dubious stuff).

Star Girl: She genuinely didn't care about putting humanity in danger when she made her band, no matter what Matthew's rules of revealing yourselves to humans are. She wanted to play, so she did. Hayden Metzler: Hayden doesn't care about anyone other than himself and his cat for the longest time. He cares about taking down Margaret Lancaster, the cult leader, but when he's possessed all of his worst traits, and then some made up things he thought of himself, come out, so he becomes manipulative, vain, egotistical and violent. The Ghosts of Stacy's story (aka The Cook, The Kid, and The General) (some trigger warning for violent stuff, cannibalism etc because they're the villains): They are all questionable traits. They are supposedly the antagonists, they're all taken by the Earnest curse. So the Cook used to mix her bovine meat she sold to everyone in town with some not so bovine meat, the Kid used to pillage and steal, the General kept going with the family meat business and he was also a sleazy, manipulative bastard. So, they have a mention here.

🤔 - what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Space Pirate: Eats a lot, she loves human food, but only human junk food. Cornelius Wildflower-Stardust: He keeps animals and plants pretty close to him, having so many animals in his house, even though he is a Water Faerie, and doesn't have any real affinity with nature, all because his mother was an Earth Faerie. Margaret Lancaster (aka Mags): She knows everything about Faerie celebrity life, she reads the Faerie Society Gazette pretty frequently even though she is Wiccen.

Thanks for asking!

[reidhalstead]

Eyes roll into his skull, he's been called worse things than a nerd or a dork — but it doesn't sound like an insult when Anika says it. It doesn't bury beneath the skin and bother him like it has every ability to. She's capable of it, he knows that. When she balances a cup on the overflowing sinkside, like she's seeing how high she might build the leaning tower of Pisa, in the apartment. They exchange words they don't mean and it grinds on him, until Reid takes out the trash, because he needs the air.

Fuck it, he's a nerd. If that's how she perceives him, then he's grateful. There's every drunken right for her to say something cruel as often drunks do; dull the feelings and the considerations. It's what Reid's so afraid of, with every long sip of whiskey. That she might shatter this illusion with the sting of reminding him exactly what he is, laughing and smiling in the corridors like there's nothing wrong with this scene.

And when he's so close, the remnants of Anika's scent tickle his noise; it's funny because he's sure that's his aftershave. It's harder for him to forget that; all the borrowed parts of each other's lives. If Reid's on the honest train, in his mind, he doesn't care too much for the opinions of his neighbours either. But, he doesn't need a Molotov cocktail launched at his door. (That happened once to apt 24)

"Don't go banging on doors," Rational thinking says that it's not a good idea, as he follows behind her on the stairwell. He doesn't want to have to be fast, as she runs — staggering to the top of the stairs ahead of him. She's necking the bottle, the same way he had been. Burning. Burning. Because they both might combust if their fires aren't both drowned and fuelled simultaneously. Reid doesn't know what thing she's laughing at now, but he finds himself quietly chuckling to himself at the sound of it.

Their corridor is a mirror of the ground floor, the same shoddy carpets and similarly painted doors. They've done this walk countless times, coming home from work — to takeout in hand and taking the trash out. When the downstairs neighbour's kid gets lost again, Halstead's urging him back to the right apartment. The know the path like the back of their hands, as well as the ink that stains their skins. The corridor doesn't usually spin, though. He's not usually so allowing liquor to snatch all his inhibitions.

He's caught up to Anika, reaching for her arm before she does start knocking on random doors and they're in corridor altercations (again). He's about to answer her, thumb jerking in the other direction and tell her she's going the wrong way. But, she's parked herself on the floor, before Reid can even think to drag her in the right direction.

Sighing, it doesn't take much for him to concede. Slumping down next to her, thieving the bottle back from between her hands. His back rests against the wall and Reid peers up to the flickering corridor light above their heads, breathing another sigh of disbelief. "You picked the epilepsy light?" Of all the spots to collapse, of course, it would be right below the broken light. Reid's eyes squint in and out of focus for the evident adjustment. He jabs the bottle into her arm, playful as he points out, matter of fact: "I'm not carrying you in, by the way." She got this far, he believes she's capable of a little bit further. (But of course, he'd carry her inside, if he needed to) Reid has the habit of allowing himself to forget who they are — the both of them: "I've never heard you laugh so much." Cringily said off a liquor-slick tongue, so he adds: "Only when you're giving me shit for the ram," a beat, for his own unadulterated joke: "—which I know about, by the way." That she hates it "It's not like I live with a tattooist or anything, who could draw me some cool moth or whatever."

There was very little he could do, that could surprise her. Reid was like a book, one of those black and white soft ones, for newborns. No text — just pictures easy enough to register by a baby, or a very stupid child. So she averted her eyes, let them linger on anything sobering (not him) and took that as a match point. At least until he flew that tennis ball back, and it hit her right in between the eyes. Did he really fucking say that? Somehow having this come out of his mouth made her feel nauseaus, made her wrinckle her nose in slight disgust. Anika stared at him, like he'd said the dumbest thing he could think of. Like he'd grown a second head on his shoulders and it was saying the most ridiculous things. "Fuck, you're a nerd." she laughed, a little too loud, but he deserved all of it. Like she was going to get caught with any member of his family.

She moved fast, always a few steps ahead of him, unafraid of the obsticles laying around like lone scooters and bags of trash and someone's old sneekers. The scariest thing might have been that lingering touch of a hand on her back, like a safety net she could lean into, if needed. Not that she would, even if the ground split open before her and forced her feet back. But it felt as nice, as it was frightning.

And behind her, he was apologising and probably offering drunken half-smiles, she couldn't see but she assumed it was the type of smile that had him named the nicer one, of the two residing at apartment 02, by their upstairs neighbours. She remembered opening the door, after a series of persistant, very annoying knocks, and being met with a woman and a question: Where's the nice one?

She never cared for people. It was probably why people never cared for her either. Anika turned slightly to the side, and whispered. "Well, I don't care what some people do." as she was sure, he already knew, and didn't need anymore reminders. "I can go bang on the door of those assholes upsta— "

His arm snaked around her waist, and pulled her back before she could fall face flat into the stairs. Anika was suddenly too aware of the way his scent wafled up and cradled her face like hands. She blinked once, twice like she had gone mute. Oh God. She stumbled backwards so goddamn quick, it almost mimmicked the speed with which he caught her. "That was very, uh — fast." and then a quiet, barely audible "thanks" and a hand snatching up the bottle from him. She wished he'd let her crack her fucking head open. The image of that causin a series of laughs to spill past her lips, as she climbed the stairs to their apartment. The bottle was quickly open and already pouring into her mouth, like she was a parched man in the middle of the desert. "Eenie, meenie — " she began, fingers tracing over each of the doors.

"Hey — which one was ours?" a beat. "Actually, I don't care." then she sat down on the floor, with her back to the wall.

[unhonestlymirror]

Well. Me & my family have lost our home, most likely forever. So far, thankfully, not thanks to the rockets. And so far, none of my relatives, friends, colleagues, teachers have died. And won't, i hope.

I could write a whole essay on how and in what positions I hate some creatures, which are responsible for the destruction of my country, but I'm tired.

We traveled by evacuation train for 15 hours without food (but with water!). We are very lucky, because many get there for days. And, despite the fact that my siblings need to get proper education, I still feel like a traitor of Motherland. Because the rest of the people dear to me stayed in Kyiv. They all stayed there, risking the lives of themselves and their families to keep Ukraine the way it should be. I also realized that I consider them all dear, even classmate A, who is a rare bitch, but still my classmate, human. I don't want even her to die. Even she didn't deserve to be shot by Russian puppets.

All I can do to help them is monitoring the news, sharing non-fake information, reporting suspicious infochannels, maybe sending some small amounts of money - anyone, tbh, can do this if they want. But that will never be enough for me.

I won't tag this as tw: war, cause it's about the whole world. Not about "local conflict", not about "special operation". If you find it unpleasant to read this, then it's intended, this is a signal to action. Silence will not work.

We are lucky because we only lost our home - some lost their families.

I will resume posting drawings when I get myself in order.

UPD. Europe ceases to impose sanctions against Russia, Europe surrenders back. Europe thinks that it will not affect it, but can you imagine what a creature can do that gives orders to shoot hospitals and orphanages?

[alicedrawslesmis]

Ok so I just watched Les Misérables 2019, dir Ladj Ly

which is confusing cause bbc les mis is also from 2019 and I can't help but feel like this is a bit petty, like they aired it in 2019 knowing this was in the works and they knew the french one wouldn't be able to compete with the bbc version and they were like 'whatever who cares about french cinema anyway'

so ok I was just complaining that modern les mis adaptations are allergic to politics and that's their downfall, well. I give this adaptation a million billion points for actually engaging with contemporary identity politics, which makes it the best adaptation of Les Mis I've ever seen. But I take all these points back cause they are very pro cop???? Like in a basic level they fail to question the role of government abandonment in Montfermeuil. Like we're only ever presented with the criminals and the cops but what about the government? What about the fact that this place is totally abandonned? We do have a mayor, who's pretty cool and is trying to do something but overall we don't know much about him except he maybe doesn't like cops? We were supposed to think something of him but I can't figure out what exactly. The kids beat him up in the end and I'm like???????? do they not like him or?????? He wears a jersey that says Le Maire on it, and he only ever does good and/or neutral things?

And we have Salah, the guy who runs the mosque and is the actual Valjean I believe (he has a whole scene where the Pig is threatening to arrest him for no reason if he doesn't hand over the video he got of the cops shooting a kid with a rubber bullet in the face, and instead of saying anything he just offers his wrists. Pretty cool Salah is the best). Marius is a kid who pervs on the girls with a drone. Gavroche is Issaka, the one who got shot in the face and stole the lion cub

but in the end they go with this shitty 'both sides' take? they show the 'good cop' pointing a gun at an angry child who has a molotov cocktail in hand and then it closes with a book quote that goes sort of 'there are no bad people only bad gardeners' which is like?????? what is that supposed to mean?? that the kid who was shot in the face with a rubber bullet earlier and is now in conflict with the cops was just poorly raised? that the justifiable anger they feel at the cops was just cause of ???? Idk???? because of Pig Cris and his superiority complex? How are you gonna come up to me and tell me there are no bad people and good people when Ruiz is presented as the good cop the whole time.

this movie was very frustrating to watch, as I feared it would be, because the main character is this white cop who sucks and is a centrist and he's supposed to be the voice of reason cause he said 'riots are useless, remember what happened in 2005, all that happened was bus stops don't have benches anymore' which is a weak take. I hate Ruiz's stupid nonsense

All this movie managed to do was make me hate the main character, instead of one Javert we had 3 and one of them is the nice one ugh hate him. Every time the movie cut back to him it dragged, the rest of the time I was screaming BASED at everyone but noooo we have to feel sad cause Ruiz is divorced and that Gwada is so stressed that he shot Issa in the face

Also this movie wasted the lion which is a negative in my book. You had a whole Lion in there and you wasted it. I wish they had fed Cris to the lion that would've been an A+. That's my headcanon for what happens after the ending is they take Cris to the circus and leave him in the lion cage

Anyway, maybe I misunderstood the movie's message because i hate the main character so much, as I thought I would. French movies just cannot escape this character. Everything else was great and maybe it could've been a great movie and the message wouldn't get so jumbled

Everyone should see this movie tbh, but skip the scenes where it's just the cops and pretend like Gavroche/Issa is the main character

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

I love Robin Buckley, but I hate what the writers did with her in season 4.

(Spoilers for Stranger Things Season 4 below the cut)

We’re introduced to Robin in season 3 and she’s sassy, sarcastic, funny, and smart, but what stands out most about her is that she’s confident.

She would joke about how Steve Harrington - the most popular guy in school - had a bunch of kids and even called them his children. She didn’t question it, she rolled with it. She would use her sass to break down Steve’s guard and that let her realise that Steve wasn’t as perfect as his reputation made him out to be and he was just as normal as she was.

Her character in season 3 was built around her confidence and her intelligence--she deciphered Russian code without knowing the language, she was intrigued by the mystery of everything that was happening and wasn’t scared when things started to get serious, she went with Steve into an underground Russian base and got beaten and drugged, and she survived it all with her humour and confidence in tact.

And then they brought up the fact that she was a lesbian, and they did that well.

But then Season 4 rolled around and they threw all of that out the window. They replaced her intelligence with bumbling, clumsiness, and confusion. They replaced her sass with awkward in-your-face unrequited gay longing. They replaced her courage with panic and fear. They took everything they’d built and flushed it down the drain.

I have no problem with Robin and Steve’s friendship, but the constant repetition of ‘platonic with a capital P’ was suffocating. They’d bring it up out of nowhere, it had nothing to do with the plot or conversations, and it made their friendship seem awkward because they couldn’t just be friends; they had to prove they weren’t a couple.

And while a bit of gay pining is fine, they took Robin’s independence and turned it into her fumbling over her words talking to Vicky, going crazy over the things in Nancy’s room, and it felt like they forgot that in the 80s she’d still very much be in the closet. But also, any smoothness or confidence she had talking to people in season 3 went out the window. Adding to that, she was able to see through Steve’s ‘golden boy’ facade but couldn't’ see through Nancy’s ‘good girl’ image; she never got flustered or nervous talking to Steve, never tried to impress him, but she does that with Nancy.

In season 3, part of her charm was she wasn’t talkative but when she spoke it was gold. In season 4 she’s just rambling about nothing until it becomes annoying for the other characters and for the viewer.

And finally, she went from being strong and confident to following Nancy and Steve with puppy eyes and fear. They made jokes about how uncoordinated she is when she runs but she was well coordinated in season 3 when sneaking into the Russian base and fighting the Mind Flayer. She didn’t get to be the fighter; she had to be the damsel in distress calling for a guy before she finally got the chance to fight back, and even then it was one Molotov cocktail. 

She went from being able to decode and translate a language she didn’t know to not knowing what’s going on when researching with Nancy in the archives or at any other point in the season. 

She went from being confident enough to fight Russians in a sailor outfit to being extremely uncomfortable in a bra and blouse. 

They took everything about her and turned her into a ditsy, awkward, unconfident, unfeminine-trying-to-be-feminine disaster.

(Side note: in season 3 she was great when it came to looking after and dealing with Dustin and Erica, in season 4 she barely talks to any of the kids. The only positive interaction she has is when Lucas scores the winning basket and she and Steve get really excited for him.)

[mrschwartz]

things i loved

jonathan knowing about will being gay and letting him know that he loves his brother unconditionally. that whole scene was fantastic, they both brought in their A acting game. i love that it was never stated explicitly, but they both knew what the other was talking about. Very realistic

eleven not accepting brenner's bullshit "apology" and leaving him to die

lucas beating the shit out of jason and the rift splitting the motherfucker in half. that came out of Nowhere, i audibly gasped and i Loved it

murray frying the fuck out of the demogorgons. i'm obsessed with how that was the catalyst that weakened vecna and allowed them to fight back. narrative payoffs baby!

speaking of fire, steve and robin throwing the molotov cocktails!! very badass. nancy shooting him too, but i thought the one in s3 was even better, so

the real genuine scare of max's bones breaking and the fact that she didn't end up 100% fine in the end. some plot armors apparently can be made of glass and i'm here for it

we're Getting our protagonist!will storyline back in s5 ladies!! we win

eddie playing master of puppets fuck yeah dude

my favorite line from a show from here on out: "i piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer"

some of the best acting i've ever seen! shout outs: millie doing eleven's piggyback thing and while vecna was talking to her; noah forever and always, everything he does all the time; sadie and caleb while max was dying; joe quinn and gaten while eddie was dying, and gaten while he was talking to eddie's uncle

things i hated

their overdone trend of introducing loveable new characters just to kill them off as a way to protect the protagonists. eddie was so good, they're so lazy for not keeping him and trying to figure out a way to resolve his being wanted for the murders

I'm Not Here ‼🚫🚫 for stancy. this is a stancy hater zone, i hate everyone involved in this show for reviving it. 1) i don't care for jancy, so i refuse to accept they made me sit through a part of this show i don't care about just for it to be unmade. 2) technically the best for nancy is some time single. 3) that is Such a peewee weakass """resolve""" for steve's character. let him move on ffs, there was a very satisfying way his arc could be heading (was heading!!) and this is not it. he's one of the best parts of the show and it's definitely not because of his relationship with nancy, it's because of his chemistry with the kids, with robin, and his want/need to be protective of them. it's fine that he dreams of having a family but him telling that to nancy and saying she's the one was sooooo ooc. ew

the pacing was 😐 questionable. some strange cuts while some scenes lingered on foreverrrr. i def 1.5x-ed a lot of that shit

i've always been team "will likes mike who knows but doesn't reciprocate" so with that in mind mike's characterization this season doesn't make any sense. why was he weird about will? wasn't will his first and best friend in the world? soooo weird that mike lives and breathes for eleven now and has forgotten how much he and will meant to each other, romantic feelings or not

speaking of eleven, i was really hoping that the strength she would find to fight back would come from within herself, since her arc was building up towards her finding herself, and not from mike saying how she's his superhero

back to the cali gang, i saw someone say how everything they did this season was give pep talks and that's so true. jonathan > will > mike > eleven. such a waste of once the core of the show

+ the very 🤨 moment of will's feelings for mike (in the way will verbalized them to him) being used for mike to verbalize his feelings to eleven was very sus. an embarrasing lack of tact by the writers there