#In their weird rapture fantasy
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going absolutely fucking feral. fuck?
I’ve been getting a lot of TERF posts rec’ed to me through the #feminism tag lately. And they’re most often only tagged something like #feminism or #woman, so filters aren’t catching them. And it’s all just… anti-woman and anti-feminist take after take. Like. How have they hijacked the narrative and monopolized the meaning of feminism to be something so reactionary and reductive? They genuinely believe takes like, “women should be forced to abort children” are feminist. BFFR. They just hate other women having bodily autonomy.
I saw one just now where someone was like, “I was daydreaming about men just disappearing”— like being raptured— “and then realized that all women don’t know how to do male jobs and got angry” (and they did say ALL). They then went on to talk about how no women knows how to operate machinery because women have been prevented from EVOLVING to do the same things men do because men forced women to EVOLVE to serve them. Evolved. They were like, “all men could just… build a wood bridge but we women are kept from that knowledge. We have no teachers.”
Further fucking proof that these misogynistic asshats do not build community with black, brown, indigenous, poor, rural, or working class women. They live in a theoretical fantasy world daydreaming about men disappearing and “female separatism” rather than offering real fucking solutions. They live in a world where every last woman has the same lived experience as them. They assume all women are oppressed in the same way. They ignore intersectionality to purposefully minimize ableist, racist, classist, heterosexist, and cissexist structures so that everything is organizable into a simple and universal M > F dynamic. This way, in their chronically white movement, they, the white woman, is always oppressed and never responsible for the marginalization of others.
Oh. And the OP had the label “fascist” in her username. They’re self aware now, but at what cost?
Trans Exclusionary Radical Fascism, everyone:
The patriarchy is inevitable. Change is impossible. We are never escaping this hell hole.
Some other “gems” I saw, TW for racism, misogyny, ableism, and abuse:
The amount of Arabophobia, Islamophobia, racism, misogyny, and ableism I see in the #feminism tag every day is truly sickening. Like 1/4 of the posts anymore seem to be from white radfems sexualizing Arab, Asian, and Black women (while denigrating and singling out typically Arab, Asian, and Black personal-care and beauty practices) while another good 1/4 of the posts seem to be anti-queer. And then some 50% are porn bots with #sissy kinks. The tag has been trashed by bigots and bots, and I’m surprised that Staff hasn’t marked it mature content yet for the sheer level of porn bots using the tag. Oh, wait. I do know why. It’s because Staff employs JKR stans who would rather label #transfemme as mature content than combat the porn bots.
#misogyny#In their weird rapture fantasy#I would not get raptured despite being a man/man-adjacent (or maybe I would given they want us ‘troons’ to keel over too)#but. as a former farm girl. this rhetoric is personally insulting#do they think farm girls are all like the wealthy trad wives in TikTok?#‘I spent today baking bread and organizing flowers with my baby on my hip’#and the oven behind her is— like— $80000#I spent my childhood building platforms and decks and bridges#as well as operating combines and tractors and wielding a machete (the machete was fun)#‘No woman knows how to do these things’ 😔#Most woman in my family did. But I also recognize that not every woman is a farmer#Like. Yeah. I’m sure that the OP of that post has no clue how to drive a combine#but she doesn’t need to know because there are already women out there harvesting this nation’s feed and food#and I’m not gonna clown her for not knowing. because— again— she’s never needed to know#but here she is complaining about women being helpless because of men and how we’re all just screwed and there’s no digging ourselves out#I saw a post talking about how defeatism is oft a feature of white mentalities and worldviews and I’ve been chewing on that#like. the idea fate is predestined and nothing can change. we are just beholden to our base ‘natures’ is VERY Catholic Natural Law of them#which tracks given the foundation of radfem ideology is Catholicism#also makes sense why they’re so keen to embrace the idea of women being ‘inherently’ one way (oft good and beautiful . etc…)#and men inherently the opposite way#see: screenshot about natural predators#or their support for rape as a biological strategy natural to men’s psyche rather than a way to reinforce & take power under the patriarchy#they’re constantly arguing that the patriarchy is natural and inescapable#cool. fantastic. so… you have no real solutions or answers?
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I think the essence of what drives me crazy about current Enlightened Online Leftist Discourse Regarding My Life Personally And Whether This Time Killing Me Is Morally Correct (as in, commentary about the latest episode in i/p violence) is this:
I want a free Palestine.
I don't personally know a lot of people that don't! They might bristle at the tagline, because it's co-opted by people who do in fact want them dead, but as soon as I lay out why it's in literally everyone's best interest, how a non-free Palestine is horrific both to the people of Israel and to the people of Palestine, how pragmatically ridiculous the occupation of the west bank and the siege upon Gaza are (and I am a very pragmatic person), they get it. And I don't mean I debate people online about it - this, too, is a ridiculous concept - I mean having, time and time again, the deradicalization conversation with my friends, and colleagues, and my family. Obviously not only now - I've always been a very principled and argumentative Jew, ever since I became an adult - and I've been alive for, I don't know, a dozen flashpoints and operations and wars at this point, and I don't stop being argumentative and loud in peacetime either, but especially now.
But that's not what "from the river to the sea" means.
When you, gentle soul from across the sea, echo this slogan, you are either:
By apathy or will, ignoring that the sentiment cheers for the mass expulsion and killing of Jews. Indeed, any non-Muslim present from the river to the sea. This doesn't even begin to cover how even Muslim arabs still will not be safe under Hamas rule - and trust me, I don't care if a Hamas apologist told you different. A victory for Hamas (And we're ignoring the fact they do not have the military capacity for it - I hope you are aware of the privilege inherent to not understanding military conflicts) means exactly that. No "rule by the people". No socialistic, Palestinian utopia to be had, which is a fantasy I'm seeing alluded to a lot recently. Just an extension of the horrific power structure in Lebanon and Syria, where Hezbollah - friends and allies to Hamas - have been playing a tango for decades of both refusing to participate in actual government and betterment of civilian lives, while still draining their resources and controlling them with no real contest. "From the river to the sea" is not a sentiment for freedom fighting - it's a sentiment for a final solution to the people living here who are either Jewish, or for some Very Strange And Weird Reason would rather not submit to Hamas rule. You know - Israeli Arabs, secular and Muslim and Christian, Druze, Circassians, Bahai, take your pick. Their suffering, and my suffering - you know, a person who made the strategic error of being born in Israel while Jewish, which is inherently problematic and not okay of me - don't matter to you. Just the fantasy of an easy, morally correct cleanse of the land.
Are well aware of all of the above! You just don't care. You either smugly chuckle that I, and anybody else who will die, deserve it - or that it's an acceptable loss for the aforementioned fantasy. "Decolonization is an inherently violent process", you'll say to me, chillingly, before implying I have a summer home in Brooklyn I can just retreat to when things get tough. Israel is basically Rhodesia, a very popular blog here mentioned flippantly, so what's the issue with all of those lily-white Jews fucking off back home before the righteous freedom fighters strike them down? Well. This might be the part I urge you to open a book, or even Wikipedia or any god damn thing that will explain to you these upsetting, dense things you clearly struggle with.
So finally:
It's easy for me to discount islamophobes. Like, very easy. It's very easy for me to discount insane evangelistics who "advocate for me" simply because I'm a pawn in their religious rapture. It's easy for me to fight against Israeli and Jewish fascists - I have been long before this news item came across your feed, as did the insinuations that some civilian deaths are okay, actually.
It's easy for me for me to see promotions for donations to non-political aid in Gaza. It's easy for me to see the sentiment that hey! Palestinians deserve safe, healthy lives. That they have deserved an independent state, and were unfairly denied one, for decades. It's easy for me to see people saying "You know, the Israeli government is shit, actually, and their actions endanger and promote to the misery of innocents". Because that's right! I wouldn't be voting and protesting and donating for all of these sentiments otherwise!
It's not easy for me to see people, who I honestly held in high regard and saw having well thought out opinions on important matters, inadvertently echo the sentiment that my death is acceptable. That a terrorist organization, who rule over their own territory with fear and violence, are righteous freedom fighters, vox populi, only out to establish a free state. Like hey, their manifesto said otherwise, so it must be all there is - right? That Jews are just hysterical, they can easily live elsewhere - ever since that nasty holocaust business everything's fine abroad. Besides, it was just so long ago who even cares stop talking about it. Hamas, Hezbollah, ISIS, the Ayatollahs in Iran, the fucking Islamic Jihad - are not interested in freedom. They aren't, and echoing their slogan tells me you are either ignoring that, or support them anyway. If antisemitic rhetoric, half truths and lies by omission work on you today, they would have in any period of time. I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I'm not, not really.
Know what your fucking words mean. Have a cursory glance at the history of the MENA and why it's so fucked, one that doesn't boil down to "The Jews, with American help, rolled into where they don't belong". This isn't even a joke. I've seen this braindead, history-revising sentiment repeated so many times, both online and in actual textbooks, that I feel I'm going insane. So many well-meaning people handwringing and assuring each other that repeating genocidal slogans is fine, that calling the i/p conflict "a simple problem" (which means it has a simple solution, right? Just kill the Jews.) is a well-adjusted and intellectual take. That "only the Zionists should die! The rest will be fine :)" I dare you to say that and also give me a correct definition of what Zionism is. Why I, a Jew that advocates for Palestinian statehood and rights and safety and always have, won't also face the wall in your little fantasy.
Freedom to Palestine. Peace in the middle east, fucking yesterday.
A curse and a plague on those who don't want either of those, and just want to cheer on the death of "the other side".
A curse and a plague upon you, when you tell me, smugly, from somewhere safe and far away, "from the river to the sea".
#selfpost#long post#i/p#israel#palestine#antisemitism#antizionism#I pondered linking every word of every claim I make to sources like Reuters and Wikipedia and what have you#but honestly? Please just read them#don't get your news off fucking Twitter#my respect for “critical thinking” online leftists is already at an all time low
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶It's Christmas morning at the Munson's and Adrie has a small request.✶
NSFW — slow burn, fluff, lovesick yearning, very light angst, 18+ for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use
chapter: 7/20 [wc: 3.4k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 7: Breakthrough
Dreams of sleeping in were crushed one tiny footstep at a time.
Morning broke through the burgundy bed sheet hung as a curtain in the window. Slivers of blue fought away the slumbering gloom clinging to the peeled wallpaper, invading the small bedroom in drowsy clock ticks. Murky wine-colored shadows caressed the bundled comforter, crowded the pillows, soothed closed eyes into sweet dreams. Darkness cradled his head and sold him a lullaby fantasy. An aching yearn of a dream where the cold penetrating the thin trailer walls was kept at bay by more than his own body heat. Arms encircling him, a kiss behind his ear, a gentle wake up call. An idyllic rapture easily woven from the fibers of his unguarded heart. An aspiration quickly escaping his wishful fingers at the sound of running, and the vibrations of the trailer shaking, and–especially–the little voice yelling at him his five extra minutes were up.
“Daddy! You have to wake up.” Adrie jumped knees-first onto the mattress, and bounced her way over to him. “It’s Christmas, you have to get up!”
He grumbled from his warm pocket of air under the covers, and she whined.
“Please,” she begged, crawling towards him.
He winced, and hissed, “Ow-ow-ow, watch the hair. Miss Mouse won’t like me if I go bald.” He dropped his head back to where she sank her mighty fists into his pillow, and she apologized by putting all her strength into shaking his shoulder instead.
Wayne called from the kitchen, “I’m gettin’ started on our famous Christmas casserole.”
“Now that,” Eddie said in an upbeat tone, “I’ll get up for.”
“You’re mean,” Adrie pouted, scooting until her knees dug into his spine, and added on to it by saying it wasn’t fair he was making her wait to open presents.
Eddie twisted around to see her manufactured sad face (practiced over the years to elicit the strongest pity in him), and he snaked his arm out of the blankets to hook it around her, bringing her wriggling self in for a sloppy kiss on her forehead. She made a ‘yuck!’ sound and pushed away.
“Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Willfully, Adrienne slipped from his hold and sprinted the length of the trailer, rattling the metal window panes along her way.
In the following moment of quiet, he inhaled deep, and sighed through his hands scrubbing over his face. The oil in the electric radiator popped. A bird chirped. Music blasted from a neighbor’s home. A faraway bike skidded, spitting up loose rocks from the trailer park’s entrance.
Eddie rolled onto his back, and blinked at the stained ceiling. He tried to not make a habit of sleeping in Adrie’s bed now that she was older, but sometimes his back cried for a break from the lumpy couch cushions.. His back, his hips, his knees, his neck. All of it. Every now and then he needed the relief, to flatten himself out on the mattress after several long days of work wearing down on his body, even if it was considered weird or wrong by others.
Swinging his legs over the short drop to the floor, Eddie straightened out his thick knit socks, sweatpants, sweatshirt. He rubbed his knuckles against his dry eyes, stinging a line of water along his lashes. Flipped off the switch to the heater. Ran his fingers through his tangled hair, mouth tasting of stale beer from drinking last night with Wayne.
He stepped out of the room that used to be his, and staring at him down the hallway, past the kitchen, at the other end of the lousy home, was his little girl. She sat crisscrossed at the stout tree smelling of fresh sap, illuminated by colorful strands of lights, and backed by old ornaments previously stored in cardboard boxes. Her eyes sparkled with silver tinsel happiness, and her springy curls bounced with the excitement of her wave.
Wayne wrung a damp dish towel around his hands as he and Eddie made their way to the couch, and he gestured at her. “Alright, darlin’, you can go.”
The sacrifices were worth it.
In this lousy home filled with overdue bills and underprivileged struggles, was an abundance of love and awe. Eddie sat at the edge of his make-do bed with scratchy cushions that chafed his skin raw, and brushed his shaky fingers over his lips. “Yeah? Is that the one you wanted?” he asked, grinning so wide his puffy sleep-deprived eyes nearly closed from the unbridled joy he felt watching his daughter tear into the Rockin Robot cassette player and recorder; a toy which had an attached microphone so she could record herself singing onto blank tapes. “Wanna make music just like me?”
“Yes! I love it!”
It didn’t take long for Adrie to open her presents in the established order–smallest to largest. Stocking stuffers first, which she dumped out onto the pine-needled carpet, and snatched all the chocolates to put on the coffee table next to the plate of cookie crumbs and empty Looney Tunes mug. Tossed the pack of new socks and dress into a pile, but wore her pink rain boots. The talking Barney the Dinosaur doll, cassette recorder, and Barbie Fold ‘n Fun play house were placed aside for assembly and batteries later.
Wayne gathered the ribbons and bows she discarded to be saved for next year, and said, “Okay, Miss Adrie. Looks like you have one present left.”
The forest green bag with a portrait of Saint Nick sat propped against the tree, nearly as tall as Adrie when she stood and grabbed the handles. She peeked inside, and in one motion, dropped to the floor, and dislodged gift after gift. An eight-page book with reusable stickers she could move around to create scenes of dinosaurs roaming the land. A big box of 64 crayons with two coloring books. A plastic jewelry making kit. A puzzle. Containers of Play-Doh. And the very last item, turned over and shaken out from the bag, was a unicorn.
Adrie squealed, and swept the stuffed animal into her arms for a merciless hug. “He’s so cute!” she said, burying her face in the powder blue fur.
Eddie stopped tracing his lips. Wayne tilted his head at the scene, confused.
Spotting a small red envelope amongst the torn newspaper her presents were wrapped in, Adrie picked it up, and mouthed out the handwriting she wasn’t familiar with. “Santa left this for you.” Adrie held it out for Eddie to take.
Prying his gaze off the unexpected hoard, he accepted the envelope with his name on it, not uttering a word, nor reacting more than necessary. She bolted for her toys, and Wayne’s scrutiny was hot on the side of his expressionless face, watching him slide his finger under the corner of the flap and break the seal gently, avoiding tearing the paper.
He pulled out the card to reveal an illustration of two cardinals in a pine tree flocked with white glitter snow with a generic greeting on the front. Certain words were underlined in pen afterwards.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
He opened it to see if anything was written inside.
One glimpse.
He smashed the card closed and turned his face away from his uncle.
Collecting himself, Eddie sniffed and ran his knuckles along his jaw until he reached back and wrung his nape as he stood up, and walked to the coat hooks, slipping on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots without acknowledging his family.
“Where’re you–?” Wayne stared at his back in quiet bafflement.
“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he answered, and shut the door behind him.
~~~
Tree branches stilled after the delicate breeze knocking them together ceased. Hungry dogs went inside for kibble and warm blankets. Kids stopped riding their bikes when their moms called their names. Humidity dampened the crisp air. Everything hushed.
Eddie sat on the frumpy loveseat on the porch built onto the trailer. His forearms laid on his thighs, and the card remained clapped between his palms. He took a shaky breath. Exhaled. Or tried, anyway, to breathe despite his nose stopping up.
He opened the card again and read the message spanning the entire blank space available.
merry christmas eddie,
i hope adrie likes the gifts!
i know it’s hard for you to find peace,
so i tried going for quiet things that would
keep her busy, like the puzzle. it’s double sided!
that’ll keep her entertained. and i loved
play-doh as a kid, so i hope she does
too. & i can get her more coloring books if
she doesn’t like the animal ones. i know
Continued on the other side–
the bracelet kit says ages 7+ but maybe
you can supervise her. i remember having
one when i was little, before parents cared if
we choked on the beads.
SEASONS GREETINGS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR
if she’s not still in her unicorn phase, spare me!
it was too cute to pass up.
anyway, please get lots of rest over the holidays.
you deserve to relax.
–♡–
mouse
His daughter came dashing out the door, and ran up to him with her jacket flapping around her arms. He shoved the card under his thigh, and shifted his focus to zipping it up for her to silence his emotions from surfacing, not having the energy to risk shattering the facade of the morning by explaining why the unicorn she galloped up his leg meant more to him than it did her.
“You like what Santa got you?” he asked, running a heavy hand over her hair.
“He knew exactly what I wanted,” she rejoiced.
With the temperature dropped, and her boots shiny, she raced the stuffed animal up to his hip, and left him to babysit it while she played outside in the frozen-over yard.
Gladly, he tucked the unicorn companion under his arm as Wayne pushed open the squeaky side door and joined him.
Under normal circumstances, Wayne’s old man stoicism worked wonders on getting Eddie to talk. It was a sure thing. He’d see him come home with red-rimmed eyes, or that far away gaze on the worser days, and he sat in earnest patience, knowing his nephew needed the cool down time to organize his thoughts, and then he’d explain what had him upset.
It worked less well in the years following the incident which led to Eddie’s ostracization from Hawkins, but he just had to be patient. It would work. Eventually. Just had to be patient.
And when his nephew refused to speak, Wayne sparked up a cigarette, and ventured, “I don’t, uh, remember us buyin’ those last presents.”
“They’re from the receptionist at work,” Eddie stated. He didn’t move his gaze from staring holes into the worn down floorboards, but he did sink back into the couch, combing his fingers through the unicorn’s white mane.
“Oh,” Wayne said in genuine surprise. “That was nice of her.”
Treading carefully, his uncle spun his hand as he thought of the best way to approach the real conversation he wanted to have. “She seems nice.. To you, and to Adrie.”
That was when Eddie shook his head. “I know where you're going with this,” he warned, absent of any real threat behind the words.
He went silent in stubbornness.
But Wayne just had to be patient.
“She’s very.. uh.” Eddie sighed. He started again, this time looking up at the rusted awning as if it had all the answers to his love life woes. “She’s very vibrant, y’know? From the city, lives a big life, loves performing for people. She doesn’t need a gray cloud like me hanging over her.” He laughed a hollow laugh, and bumped his shoulder into Wayne’s, pretending their conversation was of the light-hearted variety. Like admitting these things aloud didn’t cause a devastating blow to his neglected self-esteem. “Doesn’t need someone like me tying her down to a place like this.”
Wayne scanned the same trailer park in the same small town with the same curse of bearing the Munson name, but he viewed them with less disdain. Less animosity. “You used to be vibrant too, kid. Used to always be talkin’ about your hobbies, playing music too loud, sittin’ out here with your guitar. Always bringing your friends over. What happened?”
Too many things happened, and they were not the kind he verbalized often, so Eddie chose the most obvious.
The corner of his mouth twitched at the joke flashing through his mind. He got in real close to Wayne’s face, raised his hand, and directed his attention. “My vibrancy’s currently ruining her new shoes.”
Tracking his finger, Wayne slowly turned his head in time to see Adrie crack the ice barring her from a puddle, and stomped it into smithereens, sending mud up her pajama pants and into her pretty pink rain boots. She jumped, and jumped, and giggled, and jumped, all over her dad’s heart.
Satisfied, Eddie hugged the unicorn to his chest after making his point.
“Have you considered maybe she likes gray clouds? Or she’s the type that looks forward to the rainy days?”
“We can drop the weather analogies, Wayne,” he said in a curt tone, cutting off his uncle's incessantness. “It’s not that, anyway. I know she likes me, I’m not that dense.”
Wayne didn’t put much effort into keeping the humor out of his voice, “Then what are you being dense about?” The contemptuous head tilt and accompanying eye roll were earned, but not regretted.
“She might be moving away at the end of summer.”
He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Might be?”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
He watched Eddie’s expression slacken to stark blankness again–face and posture wilting, weighed down by his fate–already resigning on a relationship he hadn’t yet given a chance. “Don’t you want to at least try? I mean, you never know. What if she–?”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Eddie interrupted, growing annoyed at the topic and allowing it to seep into his temper. “Don’t you think I’ve sat here, day after day, and thought about it from all angles? Over, and over.” He became more animated as he spat out questions rapid-fire. “What if she stays? What if she leaves? What if things work out? What if they don’t? Do I deserve it even if it’s short term? Can I handle it when Adrie asks me why she’s not around anymore? Like, fuck. It’s all I think about. Constantly! Just again, and again. She could move back to New York and live her accomplished life without ever giving me another thought, but what if she doesn’t want to go back? What if she wants to stick around? What if she wants to work with me at the garage forever, and we get married, and buy a small house with a white picket fence, and live out our textbook dream together with 2.5 kids and a dog. Who knows!” Done ranting, Eddie ended it in a full bodied shrug, and collapsed into the cushions, releasing the most cathartic, yet dramatic sigh Wayne had ever heard. “She’s all I think about. Drives me insane.”
Wayne held out the pack of Camels to him, but it was rejected in a limp wave.
“I..” Eddie’s mouth hinged on the words, bottom lip quivering as the questions he posed washed over him as an exhausted, watery-eyed truth, “I didn’t even realize how bad the stress had gotten until she just..” He motioned. “Fixed it.”
Acknowledging the bitter reality, Wayne nodded. “You are much nicer to be around since you two started hanging out.. Adrie sees it, too.”
Not that Eddie meant to be an asshole, but after grueling hours of hard labor, he had little tolerance for the arguments before bath time, or the meltdowns before school. Months prior, he was alongside his daughter, crying harder than she did when the smallest inconvenience set her off, ending with both of them huddled on the floor; one of them screaming to be understood, and the other in a hopeless heap of a man who reduced himself to a shitty father who couldn’t do anything right, drowning under the pressure, anxiety, responsibility to not fuck up again.
Now, he was able to swim to the sun glimmering on the surface.
Wayne landed his rough palm atop Eddie’s untamed bedhead, and soothed him, “You should give yourself a chance at something great. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out.”
Eddie sniffed, and wrung his lips to the side. “You gonna pick up Adrie’s pieces too?” he asked softly.
“I will, son.” Despite the rocky times in their relationship–the slammed doors, the yelling matches, the coming home with a newborn and no money to afford baby formula–Wayne promised him, “Whatever it takes to make you happy. I’ll do it.”
The egg timer in the kitchen dinged.
“Breakfast’s ready,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and giving the quick-nod-with-a-flattened-smile older men were known for after confiding in one another, and he went inside.
There wasn’t much time for Eddie to process the weight of his internal decision before Adrie was climbing onto the loveseat. And if she noticed she left a trail of mud up his pant’s leg on her way to kneeling beside him, she didn’t care. All that mattered was her icicle skin melting in the warmth of his heavy arm wrapped around her middle; and effortlessly, she fell into the comfort of his embrace while working her hands beneath his hair, untucking it from his jacket’s collar, and hugging him back.
Eddie stashed the card in his pocket, and grabbed the unicorn by the back of its head, putting the nose to her cheek and pretending it was giving her kisses. “Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling strands of his curls around her fingers while her cold nose was pressed to his throat. “Can Miss Mouse come over to play?”
“Not today. She’s busy with her own celebrations.”
It was weird how calmly he could answer her. No twisted tongue sitting in his mouth like lead, no tensed stomach from an assault of nerves, no racing thoughts of you and Adrie becoming too close before he was ready to disappoint her. The fear was still there, of course. But he didn’t dread it. He held his daughter tucked against his body, and whispered into the unruly hair she inherited, “But she will soon, okay?”
“Yay!” She showed her excitement by constricting her arms around him in a perfect vice.
He wedged the unicorn between them and scooped her onto his hip. “What say you, Princess Adrienne? Shall we go in for a bit of Christmas morning casserole, and partake in reindeer games after getting you into your winter attire? Hmm?” She wasn’t responding. “Adrie?”
Her mouth was hung open, and her hand out, palm turned upward, making a grabby motion at something over his shoulder.
Eddie listened to her, and turned.
Snow fell, fell, fell from the low hanging clouds smudging the sky in shades of gray, bestowing the trailer park with fat flakes drifting beyond the safety of the porch, melting onto the dead grass and brushing past his car’s mirror. Pretty, pretty things of childlike magic Adrie caught on her fingertips. Special things floating to the edge of the wobbly floorboards, and sticking to his hair for her to laugh at.
“I love you,” he said in a kiss to her bitter cold cheek.
“Love you too, Daddy,” she replied in the same fashion, with an additional kiss from the unicorn to the tip of his nose.
Doors around the trailer park opened. Wide eyes of wonder gazed up, and around, searching for friends to celebrate with. Eddie felt exposed in his all black outfit against the growing landscape of white. They were looking at him. Judging him. Munson. But, unlike any other day, the desire to bolt from their intrusive stares dwindled with each graze of his thumb over the card in his pocket.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#mechanic!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#the yes policy
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Steve had made a rule against dating musicians.
Really he should have been sticking to that rule. Going through another Eddie Munson situation might actually kill him with humiliation, even if he had to grit his teeth through small talk because he was dating one of Steve’s best friends. At least Jason kicked him out before they started their weekly drag race marathons.
This guy though. He was practically a poet. Green Day t shirt cut sloppily into a tank top, showing the tiniest bit of golden stomach. Rapunzel hair tied into a loose bun at the nape of his neck. And the bluest fucking eyes Steve had ever seen.
It wasn’t a good idea. Especially when Steve had only been out of rehab for about two months. He should be focused on therapy, his dream journal, fucking basketball. Not crafting up his fantasy life with a man who had absolutely no business looking as hot as he did and was best friends with Heather.
Besides what would he even say to him?
“Hello man of my dreams. I’m a recovering methhead who cried for thirty minutes in Target last week. Wanna get married?”
No, that was weird. Definitely don’t say that Steve.
The guy was talking to Robin now. Tongue flicking out of his mouth. Eyebrows raised. Steve wanted to puke. Or hide behind Jason and never come out again. Possibly both.
He was coming over. Crap.
Operation climb into the nearest trash can and hope for the on coming rapture was foiled by Robin taking his hand and firming pushing him forwards until they were practically chest to chest. Heather was grinning. Fucking sadist.
“Alright pretty boy? Names Billy.”
God that voice was delicious. Steve could drown in it. He really hoped he wasn’t drooling.
Robin nudged him in the ribs. Hard.
“Why don’t you tell Billy your name dingus?” Her tone was deceptively sweet. Apparently Steve was accidentally being rude again.
Steve always used to be able to talk. Apparently the skill had deserted him for this specific scenario.
He cleared his throat. Twice.
“I ummmmm………Steve. My name. Steve”
Billy grinned like a tiger. God this was even more humiliating than the Eddie situation.
Then he pulled out a tiny notebook and started scribbling. Pressed it into Steve’s hand. His gaze was warm.
“My number pretty boy. In case you ever want to go out sometime.”
Steve should have told him to find someone better. Some guy who had his own place, had a job, actually knew how to talk to people without the influence of drugs. A guy Billy deserved.
But Steve was selfish. He didn’t say that.
“Sounds good man. It’s a date.”
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MY SECRET DESIRES ~
Synopsis: What are their darkest fantasties about you?
Characters: Floyd L. & Jade L.
Gender of MC: Your choice
TAGS: YANDERE. Gore, very sadistic, delusion, cannibalistic, control, self-centered eels, bloody, forceful, weird experiments, messed up sense of love, BEWARE.
Floyd ♡
He loves squeezing the lives out of people's bodies. He loves seeing the agony in their faces. The eyes bloodshot and wide, and their veins popping. Floyd Leech is a man with unique tastes. A very sadistic creature all and all.
Whenever he gets tasked to deal with Azul's special clients, Floyd couldn't be more rapturous.
Cornering his victim, and wrapping his large hands around their throats just so he can give a harsh squeeze. The wails of his victims getting cut off instantly after their windpipe gets crushed on. and their pleas for him to let go.
You look like your havin' a difficult time there, huh?
He squashes their throats brutally with no mercy, waiting for their eyeballs to pop out of their sockets– as if it was just a simple toy in his hands. Their skin soon pales and then death waits for them at the door. Shortly, he throws them on the ground, and discards them. Nonchalantly walking away from the poor soul that had their esophagus compressed into mash.
Floyd Leech wants to consume you.
His eyes trail over to you everytime your in his vicinity. His eyes were always captured by you. His heterochromia eyes that looked you up and down. and was always the blame for his fantasies. His delusional thoughts that made him lick his bottom lip sinisterly. One could never see through what his eyes and mind made up.
He wants to take you in his grasp. and shower you with all his affection and love. He wants to give you his candies, and skip classes with you. He wants to cradle you, and bother you everyday. He wants to be the only one who gives you food. He wants to be with you, every hour of the day. He wants to squeeze you, so you can feel his never ending love for you.
He wants to hug you tightly, and squeeze out all the air from inside you. He can't help but get hot under his collar by seeing you gasp for air. F-floyd..! S-stop! He's infatuated with the way your veins pop in adrenaline. Your eyes that widen like oysters make his heart melt. Your overwhelmed by his amount of love.
Floyd Leech can't get enough of you.
No, he's not hurting you. Are you slow in the head, shrimpy? He's loving you! Why would you accuse him of something like that.
Blood drips from your lips, the result of your teeth that had to nip into something out of stress. But your eyes are locked on Floyd's eyes. His eyes are full of misinterpretation and worse, obsession.
Floyd wants to pop you like a balloon, so your blood can splatter everywhere around his bedroom. So he can smell you everyday in his life, that will surely make him happy every second of the day. Nothing could make him any more content than you. This is why he's doing this. He's showing you his true love for you. He wants you to know that he loves you so much that he even wants to devour you.
Floyd wants to burst you open and capture the sight of your guts littered onto the floor, and your blood splattered about on his walls. He wants to snap your bones, and cut you open so he can see that bloody, and tasty flesh. He wants to bite into your fresh and warm body hard enough that he takes a chunk out of you. He'll sink his canines into your flesh and chow down.
He'll suck on your fingers and eat you all up, even licking the small puddles of blood. He won't leave anything behind. Soon, you'll finally become one with him.
But he won't do that just yet. He wants to be able to smell your scent, hear your comforting voice, and listen to your breathing patterns for much longer.
Your not one of those many lame toys he's squeezed.
No, your different. Your something he truly loves. And your going to have to deal with his sick view of what love is.
I'll squeeze in so much of my love for ya, that you'll just be my brainless lil' shrimp! ♡
Jade ♡
Jade Leech adores the unexpected. The exciting and almost ecstatic stimulation of getting outwitted, and kept on his toes is what keeps his drive. The surprising abnormalities and unanticipated results are things he observes with pleasure.
He's always waiting in suspense for the same thrill to fill up in the pit of his stomach. He's quite fond of letting Mother Nature naturally decide what chaos to ensure next.
But, he doesn't mind making havoc by himself either.
For instance, his terrariums. He loves them dearly, and tends to them whenever he can. Although, the thing a terrarium desperately needs to survive and persevere is an almighty God that would take care of it consistently. and a man like Jade is perfect for that job.
He's an experimentalist. When he's interested in something, his curiosity may be endless at times. His curiosity may never be a good thing either...
To damage his own creations for his interest– he wouldn't hesitate. He is their God, after all, he doesn't need to worry. He can fix them right back up again. He doesn't have any limits, or rules to abide by while observing his terrariums.
Similar to how he examines an organism like you.
He studies you frequently, passing by halls, the cafeteria, Mostro Lounge, and even the few classes you both share together. He eloquently writes down his observations in his personal diary about you like it's his regular day task.
Jade Leech is aching to tie you down and inspect you.
Such an intricate specimen. A land dweller with the most interesting features. Something he's never seen. He wants to study every aspect to you. Print all the research he's done on you in his little diary dedicated to you.
But things could be a little bit tough. and some might say overboard. Sharp edges of knives, masks that conceal, rope that could tear skin, collars that may so constrict the breathing, needles as sharp as the deadliest sea creature that draws blood, and claws that tease your gut.
Let out those delectable reactions of yours, and entertain him as best as you possibly can. Let your blood seep from the thin, but deep cut on your arm into the tube. Let him collect every riveting piece of you so he can commence with his research efficiently.
Jade Leech wants to hold your beating heart in his bare hands.
As much as he adores looking at your external features. His curiosity can't help but tug even deeper. His, or, your most prized possession is the bleeding, and alive heart that sits right underneath your chest.
The heart that quickens within when he draws near, but slows in relief as he leaves.
He wants to plunge into your body, and snatch your heart. He'll protect it by all means and even make a terrarium just for your love.
The fleshy and squishy substance in his hands are evidence to which that your love will, and always, belong to him.
Jade grins with glee, as he holds your love gently and sweetly while he places his other hand right over his chest where his own heart is. Jade connects your hearts together like the red string of fate, a show of how soulmates could never part. You are his soulmate as much as he is your soulmate.
As long as he holds the epitome to your love, never will you escape. and never will he let you. Do remember, red strings could never be cut after you've finally met your one.
His diary filled with information that you probably didn't know yourself lays in front of him. While he sits on his bed, in his own world.
Floyd, his dear brother, calls out to him and that's enough to crack his thoughts into half.
Perhaps.. That experiment could wait another day.
He still has several blank pages to fill out beforehand.
My deepest apologies, I didn't realize that it looked like I was staring in your perspective. Do forgive me. ♡
A/N: have been busy as helllllll 💔💔💔 but managed to get these short scenarios down. Promise I'll finish the overlord! Leech twins soon... I got some juicy ass fanfics in the future tooOOOO
Loved writing this- YANDERE IS MY SPECIALTY
Another A/N: I wrote Floyd while thinking about how wild and chaotic he is. My impression of him made me write how he was in this small fanfic. He's pretty possessive, and perhaps even selfish. He's a cheerful, cute son of a bitch, but that doesn't take away his ravenous and whole rollercoaster of mood swings. Which is why I made his section more... unexpected? I don't know how to explain it. But I tried making his fic more unpredictable and.. chaotic? I hope I accomplished that.
Again, the same with Jade. He's a pristine, and elegant son of a hoe. He's very formal with his ways. Which is why I decided to make his more.. well-behaved and refined unlike Floyd. But, again, he's also very.. sly and crafty. Selfish too. So I tried my best trying to add that detail into his fic too.
#jade leech#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#jade leech x reader#twisted wonderland#jade leech x reader x floyd leech#twst#LITERALLY OBLITERATED.#i forgot to tag this..#MY DUMMMMAAAA#enjoy this... gross and totally messed up fic#UGH THESE TWO ARE SUCH COMPLEX CHARACTERS?? I LOVE WRITING THEM.
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Do you think we romanticize the concept of revolution (especially violent revolution) out of some weird offshoot of our tendency to romanticize and propagandize war/the military?
Like, we treat war/the military as a good thing, so when we turn against it, we basically just apply the REVOLUTION coat of paint over the "military is great and just" framework? or something?
There are a few reasons. First, America itself is totally beholden to the idea of the Glorious Populist Revolution that overthrows the tyrants and brings Freedom (TM), thanks to the American revolution. That is why the right wing has spent endless time cosplaying "1776" and "Founding Fathers" and all the other cosmetic trappings that they put on their fascism project, and keep threatening to have a "new revolution" or a "new civil war" if Trump isn't immediately reinstated to the presidency for life. Because they are steeped in the paradigm of "messianic militarism," which has a long and inglorious history in the West and is based in Christian imperialism and colonialism, they just think that The Right Kind of Violence will overthrow the Evil Oppressors and everything will then be glorious! Of course, this has been a recurrent theme in human history and it has never, ever worked.
Because the so-called progressive left often takes deeply theocratic and fascist/conservative concepts and then just changes the wording/rationale/costume dressing, they have therefore become attached to the idea of "guillotining" all the oppressors (like the French revolution, which famously worked out fine and was definitely not followed by the Terror and did not at all end with the country lapsing back into absolute imperialism under Napoleon barely a decade later!), like we can just kill all the right people and then the world will be fine! Which uh. Yeah, that's a hard no from me. I dream as fondly of Elon Musk getting into a Tesla and suddenly blowing up as anyone, but I don't subscribe to the repurposed genocidal fantasy that "killing everyone is right when My People do it!," and I don't think that this would remotely result in a better world the end, because again: Historian talking here. It literally never, ever has. There are no magic shortcuts to making things better. It only happens by doing the work and not fantasizing about how much easier it would be if all the bad things abruptly disappeared in a splendid shower of blood and gore. Because a) that's not gonna happen and b) we don't fucking want it to! What is wrong with you?! Do you think only the Deserving Sinners will die in your Progressive Rapture and everyone else will be fine??? Because! Yeah! NO!!!
#anonymous#ask#politics for ts#it is just thinly repurposed protestant evangelical apocalyptic eschatology#about the End of Days when All Sinners Are Destroyed#which is a punishment fantasy for the christian fascists and also the leftists#the only thing that changes is who is getting punished and how#but Destroying the Infidels And The World Is Now Perfect#is the common theme#and yeah uh. hard pass.
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I know that you've already kinda figured out why dirkjakers like LE jake but I want to offer a more mundane reason and that is the absolute power fantasy that this man offers. I hate epilogues with a passion that could burn universes but ult dirk? My bpd ass was in shambles (that's why I'll someday make an essay on why dirk strider homestuck has bpd and/or npd), having control over people, over narrative itself, and most importantly fucking desimating your ex who called you clingy that one time while simultaneously still being obsessed with him, I've never lived vicariously through a character so much in my life. He is a horrible person but I Get him. "What would you do with this power" he asked the audience, and I solemnly nodded bc I would do the same thing (probably). And I suspect power fantasy LE jake offers is the same for some people bc don't you want to go apeshit? Don't you want to stop (not very successfully) conforming and be weird and off-putting freely? Don't YOU want to desimate YOUR ex? Both ult dirk and ult jake are what audience wants them to be and I think the audience wants them to be powerful, insane and murderous bc we ourselves cannot be like that irl. Their relationship is cathartic, their actions are cathartic, it's like religion if you relate to the god from old testament. Or I'm projecting big time which is also a possibility
Everyone take notes because this anon is speaking cold true facts and this shit is getting carved into the walls. I agree with the Dirk Strider has BPD headcanon, I offer up to you the Jake has BPD too headcanon in return.
I like the idea of Jake going batshit insane. I think a lot of people do, after all if the ancestors were anything to go off of, Jake and Dirk are pretty nuts.
Also fun sort of related fact, really fond of Ultimate Jake, it's because it plays into the mythos of their Demiurges / Denizens and how important that is to their stories. (I'm getting autistic here). Yaldaboath (Dirks Denizen, Destroyer of Peace) is considered a false god, harbinger of chaos, and uses the light he inherits from his mother, Sophia (personification of light and wisdom) to try to rise above others, even if he is blind and is not as aware of the aeons as his mother is.
Jesus destroyed Yaldaboaths kingdom and thus, Yaldaboath had him crucified, made a martyr. But before his martyrdom could set in, Jesus ascended and returned to the world. In Gnosticism, they viewed Yaldaboath as evil, and that Jesus had to overcome him "by destroying the Jewish Temple with an Earthquake lifting the veil or Yaldabaoth’s curtain of illusion, by Jesus’ resurrection and rapture. "
Now, who do we have quite literally representing Jesus Christ himself? Okay, you're going to say Karkat, but do you know who *specifically* represents the place where Christ himself died and was made a martyr and the rapt- OK ITS JAKE ENGLISH OKAY ITS JAKE ENGLISH. And the sufferer BUT THATS NOT IMPORTANT.
There's quite a few parallels with Yaldaboath being one that wanted to be recognised as a god and in his jealous fury condemned a mortal god and Dirk Strider. There's quite a few parallels between Jesus Christ, Karkat, and Jake English, his rapture and ascension. There's an INSANE amount of parallels between Yaldaboath's mother, Sophia, and Rose Lalonde. Even down to Rose going grimdark, which Sophia DOES, after she loses her light, which is something i'll go on about in another ramble. Thematically, if we're following gnosticism, Jesus Christ, aka Jake English, is the one able to recognise and overcome Yaldaboaths illusion, aka Dirk Strider. It just makes SENSE.
#borzoi talks#borzoi meta#rose lalonde#dirk strider#jake english#ultimate dirk#ultimate jake#le jake#homestuck#homestuck meta#hom3stuck#karkat vantas
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campaign 3 episode 66: early edition
I didn't watch any of team issylra and then I missed last week bc I was traveling so let's see how fuckin lost I am this week
(tho I skipped most of Let's Be Pirates in c2 and a chunk of c1 when I went from watching the archives to livewatching so eh)
tbh someone in a chat I'm in said BH still feel like NPCs kinda and they're…not wrong? the plot is happening TO them vs BECAUSE of them kinda thing
okay I was late bc I was reading ella enchanted to my kid
stray gods ad in the corner! god I'm so hyped for stray gods
travis looks good tonight
kiki :(
matt. say. things. OUT. LOUD. FIRST.
"only hurt him"
ahh, a nice relaxing fetch quest where certainly nothing will go wrong
once upon a forest vibes
leave orym's people aloooone
"I should be the one making the trip" keyleth istg
liam trying to find out if she also saw The Boy
she saw The Boy
forever laying in the floor about vaxleth
(someone on one of my lovm text post memes said they "just want them to be happy" and I just. bless them.)
don't out her like that orym jeeze
wait the poison ate her spell slots?? that's cheating
god I love her
"twice a year"
when we watched lovm with my roommate she asked why keyleth was wearing a pelvis on her forehead. I explained that it was antlers and it belonged to her mom and she asked why she was wearing her mom's pelvis on her head. so the diadem is ruined for me now
heading off any further fantasy religion discourse with the fact that keyleth has always been like this
tbf "the ascension and the ceiling" also works
ascended until it didn't
always good to know your insane plans worked out
"did he get raptured"
lmao the note-taking arm stretch
"you hear want you wanna hear, travis willingham"
(I wasn't looking, did they subtitle it "urine")
orym mom ORYM MOM
"what if your stuff takes a while?" found liam's mom
hobbit hole but in the side of a mountain
I love liam's face when he's having Emotions about his boys
oh my best friend from when I was a kid is named Alma, I'm prepared to do a million double-takes
orym version of the time my kid climbed under the table and onto the weird recessed buffet thing in the wall; there was no way to get around or over the table so we just had to sit there and try to negotiate with a three-year-old
flashbacks to seeing teenage photos of my partner at his grandmother's house
sam
oh no he's planted the seed
WHISPERS
did you fuck my mom, santa claus?
"whitestone is for lovers, zephrah's for fuckers"
stray gods STRAY GODS
SAM
"sorry, Q"
"rocks fall, everyone dies" pay randy millholland 5 dollars
okay I have to tap out, we've got a storm system rolling in and it's playing hell with my sinuses. I know there's about to be a bunch of combat so nobody fuckin die okay
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ty for the tag beloved @medusashima
RULES: Post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it. Tag as many people as you have WIPs
(Mine are actually so uninteresting. I have to name them as what they are or I'll lose them LMAO) anyway
My current WIPs:
Rapture (KRBK abo Prison fic)
The Nine Circles (Obey Me, I think this one is Mammon based)
Shape Of Your Heart (ares!bakugou)
bkg office abo (alpha bakugou/omega reader)
abo cam (alpha bakugou/omega reader)
teacher abo fic (alpha bakugou/omega reader)
Possession (diavolo/reader)
BEELZEBUB!!!
Lucifer/Reader (Punishment)
Two Lies, One Truth (pro hero bkg/pro hero reader)
Mutual Aid (firefighter!bkg. this one will never be posted)
KRBK Zombie AU
bkg/fairy reader
fantasy wip (dragon!kirishima/reader i think)
dark elf/high elf scrap (this is like 2 years old)
X (cyberpunk au w/ bakugou. might never post this one too)
Epilogue TFF (one day I'll get to this)
Feel free to ask me anything about these :)
taglist: @meggsngrits @tteokdoroki @weird-dere-fics @mintmatcha @eijirhoe and anyone else!! sorry if you didn't want to get tagged <3 also ik it said as many as wips but i get anxious so this will do
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late trigun stampede ep 7 thoughts
the orphanage is called hopeland... where ur hopes of ww being alive die...
once again wish the character designs were better
i think tristamp is v weird abt comedic timing? trigun's always had goofy little moments in any serious scene, but stampede feels weird for some reason
meryl's faces were cute
vash ran away from wolfwood, to meryl and roberto (without intending to meet them), and turned back around...???
the zazie mouth bit was fun. i think they did that before in the manga but i think it was weird then
ww just has an unlimited supply of those drug things
ww's attitude is still frustrating
and lighter tricks seems a little silly, but idk lol
at least they didnt ditch razlo?
idk why the hell meryl and roberto are there. anime meryl and millie pt 2
livio operating under some... unattached mindset feels lame
vash did nothing while livio killed himself?? anime ww death pt 2
legato seems to have replaced the real chapel, and livio defiitely feels like an entirely different character. stamp legato is trying to make ww how livio was in trimax
ig legato is still weird... but really focused on nick. for some reason
i genuinely cant tell what theyre doing w roberto. at first i was like "why is a lackluster, apathetic drunk replacing milly" but i remembered trigun humanized a character who was an alcoholic very well, so i thought that might happen, but he just seems to occasionally be gifted w perception (though other characters will randomly do it, too, so it doesnt feel exclusive to him), and i cant tell if his "oh, this sucks, let's give up" is supposed to be funny or not?? at first i thought it'd be an act to protect meryl from the more ridiculous events, but he keeps doing it, and its like. what is the point. he is STILL annoying me in ep 7??
none of the main cast is reacting to livio apparently killing himself..? vash spent the entire last ep and half of this one interfering in ww's personal business just to let this guy die when he tries to kill himself lol? mr. "I disapprove of suicide the most"
there's just an entire room of the ship that's left alone?
ww yells so much, he feels like the delinquent/jock anime cliche
did the bad lad gang leave or what... what happened w them lol?? what did they even do before??
it feels like no other characters except the main cast exist. how are there wide shots of the trigun version of a cruise ship and there's no normal people anywhere
the gang really left w/o doing anything 😭??
i think meryl mentioning tonis is good, and she's finally disobeying, but also i cant help but wonder why it took her 4 whole eps to even show she's affected... but i guess its better than nothing ever
FKSDJFSD THEYRE JUST TRYING TO LIFT THAT THING WITH THEIR HANDS??
and legato didnt stop it?
"what about the people on the ship" bitch, what people. they all got raptured
ww is being pretty negative when they just accomplished that feat. i'd absolutely get an ego boost. maybe they can stop the ship w their bare hands too, who knows.
vash doing fucking puppy eyes after ww saying he'll kill him is so funny. it makes no sense. he killed ur pal 2 eps ago
NICK BEING LIKE "IM THE PUNISHER >:( THE PUNISHER >:((" IS SO FUNNY TOO FJSDJS?? why did they make him like this ohmy god
idk why the hell this ep is called wolfwood. in trimax its when he has his first fight w vash over their ideals, and the 2nd is probably when he dies, idk, but neither happens here
its weird in the manga the plant is out of control and vash goes to calm it for the ship, but in stampede its just... there, and he's asking it to like take control of the ship...?
i guess livio isnt dead lol. they did pass his ass though
i cant say i like the plant's design either :( that is a fantasy fairy/mermaid/whatever. not to mention, another instance where the writers cut out the christianity themes. i guess for the next ep there'll be some explanation why vash and knives look different lol, and theres no way this time they were made by humans i guess.
with stampede's pacing so far, i can get why they'd reveal vash isnt human here. there's no way they'd hold out w all their other choices so far.
i also dont like those plant lines. it feels like... idk, a lame idea of how aliens or whatever would look like. i probably just like my aliens like the nge angels or the typhon from prey.
glad the end card isnt sexy ladies this time
#personal#trigun stampede spoilers#i almost said they all got bioshocked instead of raptured FJDSJ#*is not christian*
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Okay, so controversial opinion, but the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings movies were absolutely terrible. Particularly as adaptations. Like, completely butchered characters and theme in every way that mattered. But they also played a huge role in my childhood/teens, and it makes me feel some type of way.
Like many, I was young when the LotR movies came out, and like many, they fill me with warm feelings of nostalgia. I still feel something when I hear the Breaking of the Fellowship, I still feel soft when I hear Concerning Hobbits. I still love Arwen's dresses, and the Ride of the Rohirrim still gives me a rush. That Jackson pulled off something previously thought undoable goes without saying. And many of the elements were fantastic. The costumes, most of the armor, many of the set pieces, the music. Watching Fellowship will always make me feel warm.
But that doesn't excuse the fact that, no matter how warm and safe those movies make you feel, they were terrible adaptations. The mere fact that they didn't include the Scouring of the Shire shows that they completely misinterpreted the entire theme and purpose of the story. Add to that making Aragorn and Gandalf the main characters (they gave Aragorn this entirely weird and unnecessary story arc because he didn't really have one in the books, which is like yeah, because he is not the main character and we are already at the end of his story), the fact that they spent the entirety of the Two Towers on Helm's Deep and the way they turned most of the "creeping horror" scenes into "let's drop 80 billion skulls from the ceiling bc it's spooky right" and I'd argue it's hard to disagree that the films pretty much butchered LotR.
Now, bear in mind that I'm not saying you shouldn't like them. I suspect that most people who love them do so for two reason (or both)--either they bring up warm memories of a younger you experiencing the joy of a beloved story come to life on screen and the viewing of them now evokes warm feelings, or it was baby's first fantasy (like the absolutely atrocious Game of Thrones for many a modern watcher) and it was just like wow. Whatever the reason, liking the movies isn't inherently a bad thing. As I've said many a time before--just because you like a bad thing doesn't make it a character flaw against you. But, and this is important, even Tolkien would agree that the Jackson movies were terrible adaptations--and we know this from letters written before his death, where he literally (and perhaps somewhat presciently) described scenes and adaptation choices he disagreed with (many of which mirror choices Jackson made verbatim--for example, he describes one script he read with the Weathertop scene (a near exact replica of Jackson's, only many, many years before) and how it completely butchers the tone and feeling he was trying to evoke. He also says that if pressed for time, removing Helm's Deep would be acceptable, bc it's sort of a skippable battle that could likely just be mentioned in passing to focus on the parts that matter.)
So whether or not you like the trilogy is sort of irrelevant. Your liking of it doesn't mean it was good. And to be clear, I still enjoy watching watching. I found most of his choices (casting, costuming, music) to be solid (though there are a few casting headscratchers) but his characterization is mostly awful, as are his changes. But I would never claim "this feels like Tolkien" because it fundamentally does not. Just read Book 1 of Lord of the Rings, and the difference is already astounding, tonally. And that is to say nothing of the way the themes of the story are sort of universally thrown aside.
But lately the primary comments I have seen from people who ~loved~ Rings of Power are three-fold: either people are haters bc they miss the PJ version of Middle-Earth, people are haters because they are racist incel men, or that haters don't matter bc the good Sir John Tolkien himself would have cried in rapturous glee to see his works so loving captured and beautifully rendered onscreen. And they are all wrong.
Look, are there racists who hate it? I mean yeah I have no doubt, but I'll also say that as someone who has been following this disaster from the get go, I find far more people talking about evil racists than...actual racist remarks. I'm not saying they don't exist (those sort of people certainly do) but I also think it was a way of shutting down haters "people only hate bc they are racist". Are there people who are disappointed that they didn't deep fake Young Huge Weaving a la Tony Stark and make him play younger Elrond whilst hiring a virtually unchanged Cate Blanchett to reprise her role while they flitted around in long wigs and velvet gowns? I'm almost certain.
But by and large, I think people who are "haters" are haters bc either it was crappily done, or are haters because, and this is important, it's not Tolkien. It's a fanfic of a fanfic, and a poorly done one at that. It's an AU if Middle Earth was a DnD land.
Rings of Power (love it or hate) is an abysmal adaptation of Tolkien. And it's not just because they don't have rights to 98% of what they need to make this story viable, it's because once again, they fundamentally do not understand the underlying theme and vibes of Tolkien. Galadriel not being a Commander is important. The Hobbits (I know they are Harfoots, fuck off, they should be Fallowhides anyway per the source material they actually do have the rights to) are not. Gandalf if not even a minor player, Celeborn is a major one. Sauron isn't a spooky serial killer haunting their dreams (although given they have no rights to Annatar I guess Steve the gym rat serial killer was the best choice). Elves keeping humans in permanent open air prison camps for generations never happened. Elrond would not have been dismissed from any council for not being a lord (given, you know, his parentage), Gil-Galad could never have even offered Galadriel a chance to the return to the homeland, and Findrod died in defense of Beren. Also, you know, the second age wasn't about funny sit-com dwarves (a truly bizarre interpretation that everyone loves but I can't figure out where it comes from since Tolkien dwarves are not even close to being comedic buffoons), bird's nest wearing hobbit types, and weirdly blond Elrond being an architect and gal pals with his future mother in law.
So you can like it, it can make you feel all warm and fuzzy and yadda yadda, but please, for the love of god, stop trying to claim it feels like Tolkien. "Oh they used flowerly language" okay, so did Spartacus but I'm not out here claiming that Claudius Glaber made me think about Fingolfin. This is not, and will never be Tolkien. This is an antithesis of quite literally everything he would have imagined for this. Stop trying to justify liking it with fabricated claims. If you like it, like it, but lying to yourself helps no one. I've said this before (and I realize the irony coming on the heels of a post entirely about justifying why I hate something but you know)--not everything has to be justified. Maybe you watched RoP and it made your heart tingle. Maybe you watched it and made you want to vomit. (The latter seems more likely). But Tolkien it aint, and I think that people have a right to feel justifiably upset at what they did to the material, to the fact that this show is clearly a part of a larger Hollywood thinktank designed to print money and generate talking points, and worry about the long term impact on public perception of Tolkien. Because, and again, perhaps this is a controversial opinion, but the vast majority of people are going to know Tolkien via the movies, not the books. I literally know someone who was doing a podcast about their favorite stories and did an entire episode about Lord of the Rings, but only the movies because they had never been able to get through the books. That is a problem because while the books will always be there, public perception and knowledge of them will always be superseded by the alternate public perception. The Jackson Trilogy is proof of that.
#tolkien#rings of power#lord of the rings#lotr#im just so tired of it#and the constant never ending circle of 'stop being negative' no fuck off#the world is literally full of shit generic crap stories written by what i can only assume is an AI designed to spit out hits#and not create stories#it doesn't need another one with tolkien slapped on the name to appeal to audiences that last experienced real theatrical joy 20 years ago#when howard shore made you cry over hobbits
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Slivers of Silver Main Cast
A "modern" fantasy illustrated fiction with illustrations, comics, and diagrams: A Mad Max/Annihilation esc family road trip in a rapture inspired fae-apocalypse.
What the fae do is not for mortals to question. In fact, even after ten years, Mes still doesn't know if the fae took the rest of the world from them, or if they snatched their chosen to play with them in a changeling landscape.
It doesn't matter, really, she has bigger things to worry about, her children and their survival is always her number one priority. But while fae don't die and they certainly don't change their minds... something is wrong with the soil.
The mirror pools grow cloudy and the hawthorn rots. If Mes is to ensure the safety of her only remaining family, something must be done.
And unfortunately, there isn't anyone else to do it.
Main themes include family bonds, growing older, and survival in a world that wants you dead. Exploring uncertainty of the future, death, and beauty in hard to find places
Featuring: An 80's music obsessed biologist and her two kids: banana teen and skateboarding mint, three spunky and smelly old friends who hunt oil because it walks now, a deaf man living in an art museum, and a feral man child with a jello addiction.
May include
Trees. Lots of trees. Some of them are friendly
clouds that adopt
critique of capitalism and excess consumerism
Abba
goopy hard to kill body horror monsters of twisted human remains
souped up motorhomes
the weird hole in Minnesota that eats things
fae riddles
I had hoped to work on the first draft of the book for NaNo, but I'm having writers block, asks are very welcomed!
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Thursday again: holiday edition
I'm due to work on Christmas, which tbh is kind of a relief
Listening
youtube
Is this a good version? No.
But Valli was my first crush long before the phrase "t boy swag" came along and it retains a dear place in my heart.
Also the last "bom" always cracks me up.
Reading
well, you're either the sort of person who'll spend hours gleefully delving into the blog of a random Yorkshireman who likes collecting British military cruft, or you ain't. Tragically I am the former.
In related news I now know who to ask if I want to buy a hand knitted balaclava, but my rapture doesn't go that far.
Drinking
Was gifted some Happy Dad hard seltzer by a roommate. Fine for what I paid for it.
Cooking:
Writing
Finally did the Cornish hen! Exactly like the instructions on the hen said. Very nice extremities, schmaltz flavoured the lentils properly. Next time I'll try basting or a rub or something.
Playing
Epic Battle Fantasy 5 turns out to be free on Android! Tho as this is a series which has kept me sane and functional in the past I did not balk at paying IRL money for the upgrades.
(except for the one that offers extra EXP and gold. That feels...weird.)
A pathologic womanizer, a war criminal and a cat fight the world. I am content 😋
Where the lamb lies, an attempt to redo the Android Invasion but better. Or at least with less nonsensical motivations.
I'm definitely a bit burnt after the crossover novella, but by gawd I promised Four/Delgado and I'm gonna see it through. Eventually. Many video game levels later.
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So uh
Since @comet-wire is ongoing with their stories and such (won't spoil anything but when they have their stuff uploaded check it out!! and check their page out too they upload their art and stuff and it's really cool 🥺 also mainly linking so that you can go straight to their page!) I thought to be unoriginal (I say jokingly; really I just felt kind of weird talking about it for a bit lmao) I thought I'd introduce a couple plots I have in mind that coincide with one another.
First we have Mortal Afterlife which I'm at least 20% sure comes from Mortal Kombat lmao. I want to eventually either write about it or make it to a webcomic, maybe both. The plot is a bit weird because it's essentially an alternate universe where everyone is aware of the afterlives, what comes after death, and so on, as well as not only having the presence of humans but monsters as well. (Things like Castlevania do still exist but it's become a joke that instead of fantasy fiction it's historical fiction.) While I won't spoil too much, it's in essence a tale of people having to come together to stop their demise, and whether or not they do so will be the key to staying on Earth, or the ticket to the Rapture.
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
The tie-in series is in some way a spin-off relating to a specific family from Mortal Afterlife; one which I named Origin of Horros (might change?) a set of husbands named Ejder and Simon, and their kids: Magmalla, Lecando, and Jezzabelle. They all find themselves moving to a completely different realm that inhabits more of their kind (monsters), and their tale of getting involved with the fronts known as syndicates, who while seemingly do nothing more than innocent work, but in reality they're training those who work with the syndicates to go against a greater evil plaguing the land
Corny? Probably. Do I care? No 💕 I might write this stuff out first prior to ever drawing it as I'm still working on anatomy and such, and just figurings of faces and bodies. But someday in the future I'll upload it as a webcomic 💕
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Hi. Am I stalking you? Yes. Am I ashamed about that? No, because I found out you're astro-sorting and I'm hella curious!!! So forget anything you know about me and sort me if you please: Sun - Sagittarius; Moon - Pisces; Rising - Pisces. Do you need any more than that?? Hope not. This list is so long….
Please do not be ashamed of stalking me. In fact: please continue to do so. It makes me feel LOVED.
Okay let's sort Ephie without bias! More would be helpful, but I'll do what I can with what I have! (Though if you want you can send me Mercury + Venus + Mars...aaand also Jupiter and I'll reblog with extra findings! Only if you want, though.)
Sun - Sagittarius - fire - Gryffindor
Moon - Pisces - water - Slytherin
Rising - Pisces - water - Slytherin
Rising in Pisces would make Neptune the chart ruler in modern times, but Jupiter is the traditional ruler (which is why I ask for Jupiter!) So without being able to take the chart ruler or inner planets into account...I'll work with the Big 3! Which is called "the big 3" for good reason. Arguably they're the most important, or at least prominent placements.
So, the sun is our core and our ego. It is in Sagittarius, which is of the fire element (meaning more energetic, spirited, bold) and in the mutable modality (meaning changeable and adaptable.) Sagittarius is the archer. He is the traveler and the philosopher. Sagittarius is free-spirted and openminded. Values adventure, and the wisdom to be gained there. It is focused on knowledge, but also the journey to attaining said knowledge, and how that knowledge can be used. Very freedom fighter energy. Very easygoing, but willing to stand up and fight when needed. So...very Gryffindor, yes, but also with Ravenclaw vibes. Ravenclaw is air, and air is about intellect and sociability. And Sagittarius has aims at travel, meeting new people, and what can be learned there.
Pisces, a water sign (which is emotional and intuitive), and a mutable sign (changeable, adaptable.) Pisces' focus is transcendence. Pisces is the oldest sign of the energy, and can color its natives with a sort of ancient vibe; think a community elder sharing wisdom, or a kooky old man shouting at the sky, or a senile old person spouting nonsense (that, upon further reflection, is deeply insightful), or even a moody cantankerous elder yelling at kids to get off his lawn. Pisces has this sort of deep inner knowledge, whether they are consciously or intellectually aware of it or not. There's this feeling of experience, be it a life well lived, or a life filled with regrets. There is a sense of being too close to heaven, too close to the divine, and either being rapturous with it, or blinded by the light. Pisces can be deeply empathic and creative, but also prone to addiction and obsession. Very tortured artist energy.
For you, this energy comes through in your moon (emotion and subconscious) and your rising (reaction and perception.) This means you react to the world around you with very Piscean energy, and those around you will feel a Piscean vibe to you. A little weird, a little cool, a little out there. But that outer presence is also deeply connected to your internal state. (Makes me wonder if there's a moon-rising conjunction...) There is a deep sense of compassion that can often overload them.
I often think of the water signs as being driven by fear. Their very emotional nature can feel quite vulnerable and be quite scary. I think of Cancer dealing with this in a very defensive way, and Scorpio being quite offensive. But Pisces...Pisces is all about escapism. Big inner worlds. Lost in their fantasies. Very imaginative, and also hopeful.
All of this to say...Pisces is Slytherin, as a water sign. That escapism feeds into self-preservation. Their creativity can lend to resourcefulness and cleverness. And water signs (along with earth signs) are more reserved than air and fire. That emotionality and vulnerability, remember? So maybe we can see that more reserved, but also empathetic/compassionate nature in a sense of Slytherin fraternity. Giving what energy they can spare to "their own" (as is best for them) as opposed to bleeding themselves dry for everyone.
Pisces feels so big, perhaps because of its "oldness." You can see bits of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in that sense of loyalty and compassion and faith and spirituality. But I think the second place house has to go to Ravenclaw, for that great sense of enlightenment and that creativity. Ravenclaw values wisdom and craftsmanship. I do see it as being less about learning, and more about already knowing. But perhaps I see it more in that strive for transcendence. That last stretch where Pisces is unwinding all of their life lessons and examining all of their hard-won knowledge. And picking apart the meaning of it all.
So the question comes down to...what would your second place house be? Realistically I think the hat would consider Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, if not all 3 houses. That Pisces energy is big and all over. I think the Hat might give a nod to Hufflepuff. But then...what of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw? Gryffindor scored 1 major point, but Ravenclaw scored 3 minor points. I'm inclined to give second place to Ravenclaw, I think, but that might be bias. Which, of course means your actual sorting is...
SLYTHERIN!!!!
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*Sits down at a desk like I've just arrived at a meeting* Tell me about your ships and their theme songs and your thoughts, for any fandom/ships you currently feel like rambling about, even if I personally don't know them. Don't hold back c:
hhh oh boy this… "dont hold back" i could simultaneously go on forever and also… not. what im going to try and do for this is concentrate on songs that could be applied to both sides at once, rather than one individual person referring to the other. im also not going to be too narritively focused. these rules help me to keep the ask response to a minimum; i dont really like writing obscenely long posts, and would rather categorise them more concretely.
(by coincidence, this basically narrows down my ship themes to just my bioshock pairings).
if you want to inquire about particular character themes in reference to their respective pairings, then dont hesitate to send another ask! that goes for anyone else reading this post.
that being said… shakes hand thanks for coming today and expressing you interest. we really love to see that kind of go-getter attitude on this blog!
since i asked you about DELTACLAIR themes a little while ago, i figured id repay you and start with them first. deltaclair i find to be very interesting because has the intense aesthetic of a soulmate au but without any sort of weird macguffin to go along with it; theyre simply two people who had an instantaneous connection and an initial sense of deep, unwavering trust. in a lot of media ive consumed concerning these two, they dont really care about their past actions (either for themselves or for the other), but rather focus on the present and how that can affect the future. its a very interesting dynamic and honestly not one ive explored before in any other fandom.
the night we met (lord huron)
i am not the only traveler
who has not repaid his debt
ive been searching for a trail to follow again
take me back to the night we met
the melancholy nature of this song really drives home the directionless nature of themselves and their relationship. they just seem to exist suspended in time and space and outside of finding eleanor and getting out of rapture neither of them have any especially lofty goals to strive towards. sinclair never comes off as particularly ambitious, more placidly curious and perhaps mildly vengeful. delta is… well, delta.
and then i can tell myself
what the hell im supposed to do
and then i can tell myself
not to ride along with you
despite me noting that they never seen to distrust each other, im sure there was a part in the beginning where both of them were waiting for the inevitable screwing-over. as they slowly get more comfortable with the situation theres still this lingering feeling of "i shouldnt be entertaining this at all" and yet they do anyway and its so brilliant and angsty.
like real people do (hozier)
i will not ask you where you came from
i will not ask and neither should you
theres this silent understanding that ive always garnered between these two that some things are better left unsaid. sinclair has no idea who delta was before the alpha series, and delta knows that sinclair (chatty as he may be) is pretty tight-lipped at the best of times. its not that important information is being swept under the rug in lieu of a shallow fantasy, its more a silent agreement that bringing past grievances up isnt particulalry helpful. neither of them come across to me as particularly petty (although one could argue that sinclair is the Pettiest Bitch in Existence).
so i will not ask you
why you were creeping
in some sad way
i already know
(see above for explanation)
devils backbone (the civil wars)
dont care if hes guilty
dont care if hes not
hes good and hes bad and hes all that ive got
delta and sinclair definitely come across as relitively apathetic about each others seedier choices, and quite readily move them aside for the sake of a survivable present and more important a fruitful future. theres simply a distinct lack of shits given, but in an accutely unyeilding way.
in comparison, JATLAS is extremely passionate and volatile compared to deltaclairs mutual, silent acceptance. their songs also tend to be a lot more narratively involved and arent suspended in space like deltaclairs are. they stand out more as individuals who happen to be part of a pair, rather than two characters viewed as a whole. dismissing the themes that contribute to the story rather to them just as inidviduals, jatlas for now only has one song.
exile vilify (the national)
youve got suckers luck
have you given up?
does it feel like a trial?
does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?
atlas and jack never expected to be so important to one another. it all happened so quickly and so intensely that neither of them really stopped to consider how they felt about the whole ordeal until much later. they plague each others thoughts for entirely different reasons; jack has experienced a loveless existence (especially after his mother died) and atlas has never met someone who strikes him as fiercely as jack does. theyre the victims of poor luck and overwhelmingly shitty circumstances and all they have at the end of the day is each other.
#answered ask#bioshock#bioshock 2#alternate universe#musicalshock#jack ryan#atlas#atlas mulligan#jatlas#augustus sinclair#subject delta#deltaclair#my headcanons
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