#take the wind from their sails

[wings-of-ink]

My MC responding to all intense flirting like an adult talking to a kid "that's lovely sweetie. Haha, no thank you" pats hand gently.

Unstoppable force meet immovable object.

Duri:

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hi, I hope you don't mind this message, and idk if anyone else has told you, but there's this troll going around on Tumblr named @/freethepuppet. They claim to be “fighting for justice in the puppet industry”, but really they're just sending hateful and threatening messages to Welcome Home and My Friendly Neighborhood artists/fans.

I myself have receive multiple death threats from this person, and they have sent threats to many of my friends over the matter, some of which are minors.

Because of this issue, I have decided to keep myself and my friends anonymous, especially considering the fact that @/freethepuppet intends to send threats to PartyCoffin himself, along with the creator behind My Friendly Neighborhood.

I just wanted to warn you about this person, so that you can block and report them, as well has tell others in the community about the troll. If you decide to ignore this, then that's fair and I respect your decision.

In any case, I hope you and your friends stay safe. Best of luck!!

blocked! thanks for letting me know! to add on to this, a little advice for everyone:

Don't Engage With This Person At All!

Don't Look At Their Stuff, Don't Respond To Messages, Don't @ Them Or Give Them The Time Of Day. Just Go Block Them And Let Them Exhaust Their Own Hate

[peribirb]

i've had to explain Blaseball to people a bunch of times recently for some reason and it's really making me miss it lmao. the commissioner really was doing a great job....

[e-the-village-cryptid]

love having the gift of anti-charisma. the power of instant kill the vibe. my coworkers are always complaining about the regulars who never shut up and let them do their jobs and I’m like wow I would never have known they were talkative. they do not speak to me. I am always polite and everything but the instant I enter the room the conversation is dead purely from the sheer wet blanket power of my presence. this is my greatest talent

[the-mocking-robin]

It's amusing, really, to get to tell people I'm trans.

Unless you're Timothy Fucking Drake.

Who replies with, "Oh, yeah, that makes sense."

Then I wanna beat his ass up again.

[shrikeseams]

Once again considering the au where Miriel darts out of Mandos the instant Finwe bites it, and appears unheralded in Tirion like Eru swung a metaphorical two-by-four at the back of Feanor's head right before he's about to proclaim the Oath.

[cosmic--marmalade]

Was at a store. Complimented a girl on her nails, we got to talking a bit. My pronouns got brought up because of my They/Them pin.

She laughed in my face. Like gut busting laughter, can't speak or breathe, falling to the floor kind of laughing.

I know how lucky, and frankly privileged, I am to not get this kind of reaction on a regular basis. I know. It's been Years since something like this happened.

Doesn't make it sting any less.

Doesn't make walking out of the store crying any less embarrassing.

Bubble burst. Message received.

[emma-d-klutz]

Batman choking out one of his rogues: Stop talking. Please.

Batman getting choked by Superman: Haha do it, tough guy. Go on, Clark, do it. I want you to. I want you to. Can you actually? I know you can’t. Prove me wrong. 

[dapperrokyuu]

What I thought was gonna be a Noe flashback arc is turning out to be a Dham arc. Which is a win either way, so yay!

[blujayonthewing]

jill, any time her OC might have a crush on any other character: wow he's just like my husband

me, for whom felix is a frankly embarrassingly self-indulgent and blatant blend of self-insert and qualities that I personally find appealing: NO HE IS NOT!!! >:(

[stoneclaw]

sighs and logs in for prog

[girlwithlionmane]

Gonna do chores this weekend and then uhhhhh I think I’m gonna film a YouTube video on Monday??

[justalittlesolarpunk]

There is hope. I promise. Young people just won their case against the state of Montana. Ecuadoreans braved escalating political violence to vote against oil drilling in the Amazon. Brazilian deforestation is down by enormous amounts since Lula took office. They’ve invented hydropanels that synthesise pure water from the air. People are farming in solar parks. A ship just launched for its maiden voyage using rigid sails designed to mimic wind turbine blades. EV sales are taking off, and, more crucially, cities are re-assessing their very relationship with the car. By the 2024 Olympics the river Seine will be safe for people to swim in again. More and more people are replacing their gas boilers with heat pumps. Solarpunks are growing crops in their back garden and distributing them to their neighbours. Great tracts of land are being given back to nature. Young people are channelling their energies into meaningful careers. Pilots are leaving the aviation industry. Yes, the world is dark and terrible and full of awful dangers that keep you up at night, but we are a huge movement that grows every day in numbers and power. Your small actions matter. Our collective triumphs are increasing. Things are going to get harder, extreme weather will be more common, but with ingenuity, resilience and crucially, COMMUNITY, we can build an equitable world on this strange, tired old planet. See you in the future.

[wheneverfeasible]

It had just been a joke.

He’d been bleeding out, dying, the pain from the demobat bites fading as that unending cold started to seep into his limbs. He was dying and Dustin was crying over him and he didn’t want to say goodbye but what else was there to do?

Pounding footfalls and then Steve and Nancy and Robin were skidding to his side amongst the fallen demobats and Steve was telling him to hang on, to not die, that they were there. Nancy and Robin were tearing garments to wrap around his bites but he didn’t care overly much, figuring it was for nothing. Instead, he was focused on Steve’s hand in his, pleading with him to hold on, and it was clearly just him babbling, but he’d said he’d do anything Eddie wanted if he just hung on.

And really, what better time to come out as gay to your crush than on your deathbed? Or, death-patch-of-dirt anyways.

“Go on a date with me then, Harrington,” he coughed out, choking on blood that splattered on his chin. Sexy.

Steve was noticeably shocked, and confused, but he gamely agreed if Eddie just promised not to die. Eddie blacked out with a grin on his face. He’d thought that was it, thought it was all over, except then he started feeling pain again. Which fucking sucked. Kind of rude to feel pain in death, unless Hawkins had been right and he was in Hell now. Bummer.

But then he heard the beeping, felt the cold air being forced into his nostrils, and he blinked open eyes that felt glued shut. Things were all woozy and fuzzy, but he saw big brown eyes staring at him and a smile he’d never thought he’d see directed at him of all people, and Steve was holding his hand again and that was nice.

Apparently he’d been in a coma for a month. Hilarious.

Steve had told him he’d been begging him to wake back up, they all were, and Eddie was high enough on pain killers to tease, “Didn’t think I’d let you out of our date that easily did you, big boy?”

He’d fallen back asleep almost immediately afterwards, so he didn’t get to see Steve’s reaction to that one, which was probably for the best, all things considered. Except Steve kept coming back, and he kept up the joke about taking Eddie on a date once he was better, even using it as encouragement when Eddie wanted to just give up and die from the pain he was in due to the multiple surgeries he was recovering from and undergoing.

Despite all that, he slowly but surely healed, able to finally move into the small house the government’s hush money had bought for them with Wayne after they also got him cleared of all charges yadda yadda yadda. Pretty sick deal, all things considered. All it took was being framed for multiple murders done by a psychotic supervillain and nearly mauled to death by demon bats. Easy peasy.

When Steve had given him a time and date for their supposed date, Eddie was just happy that the guy was able to joke about it with him instead of freaking out in typical Straight Jock. Steve apparently acknowledged his crush and still wanted to be friends, which was better than he could hope for. Or so he thought.

Because there was Steve, on his front porch, flowers in hand and looking far spiffier than Eddie ever recalled him looking like before. It looked like he’d even gotten a haircut. Good lord.

And it was amusing really, truly it was funny how far Steve was willing to take the joke, but something broke inside Eddie too because he was For Real Super Gay For Steve Harrington, but for Steve it was Just A Joke. And Eddie couldn’t take it anymore.

He snapped, hurt by his feelings not being taken seriously, and ranted about ex-jocks and pretty straight boys who treated being queer like a joke. Though Steve looked shocked at first, he ended up just looking amused by the end, which annoyed Eddie further. He was just about to enter another diatribe when Steve cut him off with a simple sentence that took all the wind out of his sails and left him gaping like a fish.

“Thanks for calling me pretty, but I’m actually bisexual.”

Eddie blinked. Steve smiled. Flowers were pressed into his hand.

“Now, the only joke around here is thinking my date can wear sweatpants to our dinner reservations, so go change into something appropriate, Munson. Honestly.”

As Eddie was ushered to his bedroom to change into something more fitting than stained and holey sweatpants, he tried to figure out where he had, in fact, lost the narrative. Because it had just been a joke.

But somehow he had ended up with a first kiss, a real life boyfriend, and a happily ever after he never would have expected. Go figure.

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

HI I know the new Halloween character isn't out yet but I needed an outlet for my excitement (Yes, I am unfortunately a Nightmare Before Christmas girlie) 💀 so please be advised that he may not be in character here, I'm just writing based on vibes! This is technically a twisted!Jack Skellington x Reader fic, but the Reader is basically playing a role similar as Sally from the film.

P.S. I want everyone to know that I busted out my drawing tablet to make this special border for him the same day he was first announced... Yeah...

Boo.

On the nights with full moons, he liked to steal away to the Spiral Hill on the outskirts of town.

The outcrop of land overlooked a vast graveyard and field laden with pumpkins, perfuming the air with the crisp sweetness characteristic of autumn. Beyond it, uncharted territory. When he squinted into the darkness, he could make out the vague shapes of naked trees, their gnarled branches like fingers beckoning him to approach, whispering his name.

He draped his long, lithe legs over the hill, letting them hang in the frigid air. Spindly as he was, the wind easily blew them, knocking his legs around like the straw-stuffed limbs of a scarecrow. He kicked with the breeze, carefree as a child on a playground swing.

The moon stitched his pinstriped suit and tattered cravat with silver thread, touched his pointed crown at its highest points. Even the white ribbons ribbing his jacket and the pattern of bones tugged over his gloves seemed to glow under the celestial light. He liked the view, and the view seemed to like him, too.

Held in his skeletal hand was a single flower. He stroked a silken petal, then slipped another finger under it, plucking the petal free. The wind claimed it, setting it sailing off into the unknown.

He continued. A second, a third. So on and so forth, until the flower was left stripped down and barren, even robbed of its leaves.

He dropped the stem off the hill. The pumpkins below consumed it, and the once lovely flower’s body became one with the patch.

"I figured this is where you were."

He lowered his dark circular lenses. His bright eyes slid to the figure that had approached from behind, on feet so swift they hardly made a sound. They came in with the sweetness of deadly nightshade, the trace of a poisoning committed at midnight. "Not a lethal dose, just enough to knock the doctor out for a few hours," as they always said. "How else would I sneak out to see you?"

Dry, ghostly lips dashed with hatch marks pried into an open smile, both teeth and the gaps between them. Charming, in a crooked sort of way. "My dear. You've come."

You bent down. “If you don't mind, I'd like to join.”

“The spot beside me is always reserved for you.” He patted it, inviting you to take a seat.

"Such a gentleman." You sunk down, folding your hands in your lap. "And so handsome when you're brooding. You're terribly good at that."

He was, he was, especially silhouetted by the moon. The man was practically monochrome, but bathed in silver like this, his pale skin was less sickly and more ethereal. He almost appeared like a cruel angel in the light, descending to expunge evil.

"I'm not brooding," he pouted, "I'm dreaming."

“Dreaming." You reached out and tucked a strand of alabaster hair behind his ear. "Father says it’s a ridiculous, wild thing.”

"Ah, but that's what makes it so much thrilling. Life’s no fun without a good scare.”

His mouth quirked to one side, and his smile became off-kilter--as his ideas often were. "He'll bring us to ruin with his crazy, new-fangled thinking and flights of fancy," your father would complain. But you adored that about the boy. How spontaneous he was, how his curiosity was never-ending. He'd race about like a child, picking items up and sticking his face where it probably shouldn't go.

Full of life in this otherwise lifeless town.

"What's this? What's this?" he'd say. "I must know!"

"He's gone daffy," your father would declare.

"Mmm." You nodded absentmindedly, tracing your fingers along the shell of his ear and down to his arm. "What were you dreaming about today?"

He lifted his head, looking beyond the hill and to the woods. Not a word was exchanged. None had to be.

"The Hinterlands?" you whispered. "But we don't know what's out there. No ghoul or monster has ever ventured out that far."

"Then sounds like I'll be the first! They’ll put me down in the history books as a pioneer." His laughter brightened up the gloomy night. When he quieted, his gaze was solemn—more solemn than you'd ever witnessed him. "... Don't you wonder about what's out there? Stuff that's cold and fluffy and falls from the sky. Things that come in colors we haven't seen."

"Sometimes," you admitted quietly, "but those are just dreams. I don't chase them."

"Maybe you should. We should," he mused, fingers tucked under his chin. "I bet there's all sorts of things we've never even dreamed of, too. And wouldn’t you like to see something strange?”

"I would. I really, really would," you told him in a soothing tone. Trying to reassure him as much as you were yourself. "Let's not doing anything dangerous though. I sense something in the wind—tragedy at hand. I can't shake that feeling that something bad is around the bend if you tread that path."

You gingerly laid your hand over his. Behind tinted lenses, his eyes widened.

"Stay here with me," you begged. "We can be together. Gaze at the stars. Be safe in one another's arms."

“… Sweetness, I would love for nothing more than to have you and to hold you ‘til death do us part.” His voice fluttered like the brush of a falling leaf upon your cheek. He regarded you tenderly, locking his fingers with yours and squeezing. “But you know that’s not the kind of man I am.”

“Yes, you’re every flavor of foolish imaginable,” you replied, pressing your forehead against his, “and I love you for that.”

“As do I.” He brought his icy lips to the back of your hand. A chill spider-walked up your arm, and you shivered.

“Then…”

“That’s why I must depart one day.” He pushed his glasses up. You caught the tragic reflection of your face in his lenses. “Out there… something more awaits us. I’m sure of that. I intend to find it and revive our town, this season that’s gone stale.”

“I won’t stop you if you decide to go,” you murmured. “And I will count the days until you return to me.”

“I knew you’d understand.” His smile—now it was touched with sadness, the knowledge of soon parting ways. “Thank you, dearest.”

He stood slowly, drawing you up with him. Your feet followed, as if pulled along by a puppeteer. How in sync the two of you were, how nicely molded your bodies were to one another’s. Your joy melded under the watchful eye of the moon.

“Shall we share a dance? One for the road,” he crooned. An errant breeze tousled his pallid hair, his tattered coattails—but to you, he was fairest of them all. “Our last dance for a while.”

“Alright, let’s make this one count,” you chuckled, “so I can send you off on your travels with a smile.”

“Excellent 🎵” He slid a hand around your waist, guiding you to lean into him. “Let the merrymaking commence!!”

“Yes…!!”

The midnight waltz began.

He led you, step by step, and you trailed after. Movements easy and effortless, like two intertwining maple leaves, spinning and spiraling. Their partner, the center of their universe.

“It’s as plain anyone can see,” he breathed.

“We’re simply meant to be,” you returned.

They danced as if possessed or an enchantment was cast upon their footwear. The moment too sweet, too succulent, to relinquish so soon. They wanted to savor it, indulge in it—and each other.

For never was there a more perfect pair than the Pumpkin King and his consort.