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bowie-byers · 3 months
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Jonathan Byers + Anger Issues Web Weave
Chapter Five: The Flea and the Acrobat/Cop Car, Mitski/unknown/Chapter Eight: The Upside Down/I Would Leave Me If I Could, Halsey/Chapter Five: Dig Dug/ In The Dream House, Carmen Maria Machado/Chapter Four: The Sauna Test/The Fallen Angel, Alexandre Cabanel/ This Is Me Trying, Taylor Swift/Chapter Two: Vecna's Curse/Hollywood, Charles Bukowski/ Chapter Two: The Weirdo On Maple Street
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐔𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒. Whispers of rebellion, of a lost district; No family was spared from the fallout of civil war. We'll never go back, they say, and everyone has their ways of coping with it. With life in the districts, short and painful and ultimately meaningless; With life in the Capitol, hedonistic and indulgent and tenuous, on the brink of collapse at any moment.
The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us now, the last vestige of a history long ignored. The energy is tangible this time of year, districts walking on eggshells and the Capitol gearing up for celebration. There can be no beauty without pain, after all. 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑?
THEODDSHQ is a Discord/Tumblr Hybrid, 21+ literate, canon divergent roleplay set during the 74th Hunger Games. With appable OCs in the districts and the capitol, plus strict diversity rules, The Odds encourages storytelling, character development, and literacy. The Odds is a plot-heavy group, with regular events occurring on Discord.
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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Monster Trap
Episode 8: The Upside Down, Stranger Things
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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mid-2000s jonathan byers listens exclusively to divorced dad rock
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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RAHUL KOHLI as Sheriff Hassan MIDNIGHT MASS | S01E01
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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MICHIEL HUISMAN as Cal Morrison in Orphan Black (Season 2)
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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— The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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crush by richard siken // richard diebenkorn // richard diebenkorn // if there’s a way out i’ll take it by lora mathis
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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Have you ever thought about losing your brother?
me vs. making webweaves on dying and family. really this was just an excuse to think about killing flies.
Killing Flies, Michael Dickman | Separation, W.S. Merwin | Eurydice, Ocean Vuong | It, Stephen King | Winnie-the-Pooh, A.A Milne | Fading Kitten Syndrome, ROAR | Quote via. Maurice Sendak | A Meeting, Wendell Berry | Anguish, August Friedrich Schenck | West Wind I, Mary Oliver | Planet of Love, Richard Siken | Quote via. C.C, Aurel | Oats We Sow, Gregory and the Hawk | The Living to the Dead, Käthe Kollwitz | Quote via Fortesa Latifi | Antigonick, Anne Carson | Killing Flies, Michael Dickman (cont.)
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bowie-byers · 6 months
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Jonathan Byers,, its hard being a father brother parent at 17 ok
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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“Lately I’ve been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and who I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be…and when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.”
— Andrea Gibson
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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#iconic
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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"I fucked ur mom this" "I have sex with your dad that" well I have a weird homoerotic relationship with your hot older brother and he got lost in my eyes over our jumbo pizza slices and forgot to pick you up after soccer practice. it's raining and you're devestated btw
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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If someone were to look at Jonathan Byers’ phone right now it would have a pitiful receipt of eight unanswered outgoing calls: Three for a guy called Argyle. Two for a girl called Nancy. One for someone called … “Bald Eagle”? And four for the disconnected cell number of Will Byers. Jonathan didn’t bother leaving voicemails for anyone except the latter but got tired of trying after hearing “we're sorry you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel this is in error, please check the number dialed, and please try again” for the fourth time in a row. The list might have been longer if it weren’t 1am and he’d been anywhere other than stumbling down the shockingly lit streets back to his new home of … Lincoln hall? – Lagoona Falls? Fuck. He had a hard time remembering. Thankfully his phone still had 5% battery to figure it out. It’s not like Jonathan spent much time in Lipton Hall outside of making his bed and hitting the dining hall before the roommate had a chance to get up and, god forbid, meet him. Respectfully putting off the introductions was a solid way to ensure that the other guy didn’t have an opportunity to hate him – or vice versa. Yet. They'd have lots of time to figure it out over twelve months of waking up to the sound of the other's breathing.
Jonathan looked completely misplaced as he strutted down MacDougall Street with a box of multi-coloured string lights wedged between an arm. The fact that a shady hardware store was open at 1am (let alone carried Christmas gear in September) was a miracle. The young man blew past streetlights with an urgency that could only be characterized as Joyce-like, incapable of extinguishing the drunken thought that maybe if he just …. if he could just … string up the lights one last time ….  if he gave himself a final moment to entertain the suppressed wish that Will might be caught somewhere that wasn’t four feet deep in Hawkins’ Cemetery ... then maybe he could accept that his brother’s disconnected number was, in fact, not an error. That it was forever. Permanent. The flicker of a slowly dying lamp and the six beers he’d been handed between a few shitty conversations about cinema made it make sense in the only place that mattered. His brutally stuffy head.
The shoddy wooden chair dragged against the carpet. Jonathan registered nothing in his surroundings except the need to find an outlet in the wall. The rush in his head was akin to white noise - pushing him forward despite the bubble, bubble, bubble, in his stomach and the ever growing need to let it all out. He struggled to hold up the string of lights against the wall, chair creaking beneath him. That's when Jonathan finally realized that he had nothing to pin them up with. He burst out laughing to himself, wheezing with his arms still slopped high up on wall with lights in his fists. The drunk freshman didn't register his roommate's presence until Cole was right behind him, steadying the chair. Hearing a voice outside of his own mumbling scared the hell out of him. "Jesus F-Fuck!" He jumped in terror, knees buckling as his arms dropped along with the lights. The mangled string tumbled to the ground. Jonathan whipped around to narrow his eyes on the dude, steadying himself with the back of the chair. The rush of adrenaline heightened his disorientation, world spinning unbearably. Dots finally started connecting on who this guy was, running a hand through his sweaty bangs as the realization came to him. The roommate. He was too drunk to put together an introduction, eyes moving away from Cole to the lights scattered below him - slurring out a desperate "Shit ... Do you have tape, man?" in the process.
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WHO: cole + jonathan (@bowie-byers) WHERE: lipton hall, room 313 WHAT: the roommate from hell
Greenwich Village was cool-- that was a win, at least. Being nestled in the middle of so much history and culture was a far cry from Depoe Bay, Oregon. Cole had been keeping notes in his Moleskin of record stores and dives he wanted to explore once he'd gotten moved in. Of course, all he really had to his name were a couple of odd '80s posters, a couple boxes of books, and a t-shirt collection that desperately needed a wash after the three-day cross-country drive.
He'd made a deal with himself-- a week completely off the grid, settling into his new surroundings before he ventured a call out to Max or his mom or, God forbid, Akeem. It was nice, though, the almost-cold breeze in Washington Square Park; the shitty bodega coffee that reminded him of how Maude always makes it way too strong. But every time he found his way back to Lipton Hall, Cole felt like he was holding his breath, wondering if he'd finally meet his elusive roommate.
He could tell that the other boy had moved in already, from the painstakingly pressed plaid sheets and the single Bowie poster-- but the guy was all but a ghost. He was gone before Cole got up at six and out until well after Cole went to bed. If they'd even talked once, Cole would guess the dude hated him. Whatever, maybe he'd get lucky and the sucker would drop out pre-semester, leaving Cole with a suite to himself. He could always dream.
... Which is exactly what he was trying to do when the door beeped open, yellow hallway light pooling into the doorway. Cole groaned, turned his back to the door, and promptly fell back asleep despite the shuffling feet and clumsy movements of his roommate. At least, until the chair scraping across the floor caused Cole to bolt upright, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the red, blue, green, and yellow lights the other plugged in and held up towards the ceiling.
"Wh-- what the-- fuck, man?" Cole tripped over his words, grogginess pressing against his eyelids. "What... are you--," Cole shoved out of bed to steady the chair while his roommate balanced precariously on its edge. It took him a beat, but Cole frowned upwards. "Dude, are you fucked up right now?"
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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Why Things Burn, Daphne Gottlieb
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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Coming out Thread // Continued
@waldenwritess
Will:
Will leaned into Jonathan's hug like he had so many times before, only this time he felt himself leaning more heavily, gathering the fabric of Jonathan's shirt into his fists and squeezing his eyes closed. A few tears slipped through, wetting Jonathan knew, that much was apparent, but Will still had to say it. He knew once the words left his mouth he could never take them back. He knew he could never take them back either way. With Jonathan's reassurance, Will pulled away and swiped at his face with the back of his hand, weak smile to show Jonathan that he would be okay. Eventually, maybe. Will followed Jonathan to his bed and sat next to him, eyes falling immediately to the carpet under his feet, fingers once again picking at the hem of his too-big shirt that used to be Jonathan’s. As his brother began talking, Will lifted his eyes to Jonathan’s face, automatically shaking his head in protest as Jonathan started apologizing. He opened his mouth to protest— to promise that Jonathan had been a better brother than he ever could’ve wished for, that it wasn’t him Will was afraid of, really, just the fact that saying it out loud made it real— but Will didn’t want to interrupt. He found himself nodding along, agreeing that things do get way more complicated. Will had felt behind when his friends all started dating and all he wanted to do was play DnD, but he wondered now if that was less about not wanting to date and more about who he wanted to date. “I never felt alone,” he ventured, before Jonathan could move on. “I know you will. You do,” he confirmed in as many words as he could manage without bursting completely into tears. Will’s throat burned from holding back his emotion, and he swallowed hard, determined to pay attention to Jonathan’s words.
Studying his hands, Will clasped and unclasped them in his lap. They felt clammy, and he wiped them on his jeans while he desperately tried not to think of Mike Wheeler. It makes you do stupid shit. Will immediately thought of the conversation he’d had with Mike in the van back in California, how Mike somehow managed to frustrate him more than anyone else in the world, but also felt like home. He met Jonathan’s eyes cautiously, then, not sure just how many confessions he was up for in one go. Jonathan’s eyes pierced through Will’s soul, and he felt frozen under his brother’s intense gaze. Everyone deserves to know what that feels like. HIs eyes welled up again, but this time Will didn’t reach up to swipe at them. He let the tears fall, one and two and then faster, until they streamed together. Suddenly, Will felt like a little kid again— like he was five years old, hugging Jonathan’s leg, begging him not to leave and go to school, just this once. Clinging to the safety his brother always brought with him, the certainty that someone loved him not in spite of everything he was, but because of it. As long as he could remember, Jonathan was Will’s safety net— he ordered for Will at restaurants way past that being acceptable, he talked to strangers on the bus on Will’s behalf, he let Will duck behind him in crowds, but Will knew it had to come to an end. Jonathan couldn’t say this for him. Taking a shaky breath, Will met Jonathan’s eyes again and nodded, trying to soak in Jonathan’s words. Jonathan was always recording things, and for a second Will wished he was recording this, so Will could revisit it over and over and be sure of what he said. The world needs to see it, and there’s someone out there who will love you for it. Once again, Jonathan’s words burned Will’s throat. He reached out and took Jonathan’s hand, squeezing hard to redirect the pressure from his eyes to his hands, and took another deep breath. “Jonathan, I’m gay.” It didn’t feel like how he thought it would. Will didn’t feel freer, or lighter— maybe in an existential sense, he felt good to finally tell the truth. He felt the same, only with a sneaking suspicion that he’d have a headache tomorrow from all the crying. “You already knew,” he said, tenderly loosening his grip on Jonathan’s hand, but not letting go yet. “Thank you. For making it easy to say,” he said, after a beat of silence. Will searched Jonathan’s eyes, afraid he hadn’t said enough to assuage any guilt Jonathan was holding onto. “I think it just… took me a while to figure out what my feelings meant. And then, everything else,” he said, grimacing at the thought of all that had happened this year. The last few years. Too much for a lifetime. He was lost in that thought for a while.
“It’s not because of you, or mom,” Will clarified, though his mind was lightyears away. Jonathan’s words— his promise that someone out there will love him— had a haunting effect. Will had never doubted that he was loved, that he would be loved. He’d always known that his family and friends loved him. But romantic love felt like it was off the table. He remembered telling mom that he would never fall in love; it wasn’t so much a goal as it was the submission to what he felt was true. When he finally spoke up again, his voice sounded small, almost fragile: “Do you really think someone else will… that I’ll find someone? Like me?”
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Jonathan:
His own eyes started watering, and he gave his brother a nanosecond to work into the confession. The waterworks always started as soon as Will cried ... It's been that way since time immemorial. He paid no mind to the numbing tingle in the tips of his fingers caught in Will’s vice grip, nodding encouragingly.  Jonathan, I’m Gay. Hearing confirmation of what he’d always known was a breath of fresh air. He stayed silent in fear of saying anything to interrupt his brother’s emotional breakthrough. Christ, he feared breathing too loud and stopping the big words from spilling into this quiet little safe space in his bedroom. Jonathan had picked up on a few signs (for a lack of better words) over the years – not to mention their conversation in Surfer Boy. His big brother sixth sense expected to hear an I’m Gay disclosure at some point. This was a huge moment for Will – And honestly, it was a very joyous moment in Jonathan’s mind. It’s not because of you or mom. That’s when he finally cut his brother off. “Will, feelings are … intense sometimes – it takes time to figure stuff out and you don’t have to have everything figured out right now, either. You’re growing up, you know? And I’m so proud of you for opening up to me about this – so proud ... that takes a lot of guts.” He maintained his gaze with a more serious glint, expression lit with unequivocal trust.  As much as he was an older brother and they’d operated consistently in a realm of honesty over the years… Jonathan was still a young person himself. Giving his brother a glimpse into his own vulnerabilities was uncomfortable, regardless of the age difference. “I think you’re old enough to hear this now but … I never really had anyone to talk to about this kind of stuff – love, relationships and everything that comes with that. There’s mom, you know? but sometimes you just need … someone that isn’t mom …” He swallowed to recenter himself on the point that he was trying to make. “I kinda had to figure it out on my own and … it sucked. You can always talk to me about this stuff – or like boy problems.” He cringed as soon as boy problems left his mouth. Could he have said something dorkier? Probably not. “There’s things that you won’t want to tell me or mom – and that’s okay, but there’s so many people who love you and would break their backs to help you – Hopper, Murray, your friends … Hell, there’s people who even do that for a living … and if – If I don’t have the answers to something, I’ll always help you find them, alright?”
He brushed a hand over his brow. Do you really think someone else will … that I’ll find someone? Jonathan used to ask himself the very same question. Still wonders about it sometimes. A slight chuckle caused mucus to catch in his throat and he promptly coughed it away. Both of his palms moved back to his knees, keeping a sly smile at bay. He really wasn't laughing at Will. The fact that his brother had any doubts about his own merits was amusing but the concern in Will's tone scared the living shit out of him. “You don’t … You don’t have to have to worry about finding someone. Trust me, someone will show up when you least expect it – and when you truly love yourself, inside and out, people are drawn to that ... Soon enough you’ll get grounded for sneaking boys into the house.”  He cracked some light into their conversation, but it was also entirely true. Will was still super young. It’s hard to feel desirable when you’re still growing into your own skin. Jonathan knew how that felt … And although it was probably impossible for Will to fathom, there’d probably be many someones … Boys who swell your heart to five times its size. Boys who deflate it. Boys who make promises.  Boys who show up late – or sometimes surprisingly on time. Boys who are dumb as hell …  Little did Will know that he’d probably meet handfuls of boys before settling on someone who makes his world stop spinning. That’s just life. Deep down Jonathan simply hoped that the right … someone … would be found outside of Hawkins. The world’s a big place and Will Byers deserved to experience everything that it had to offer. Period. That’s what Jonathan wanted for him. “By the way - Just so you know … Mom will find out even if they sneak out of your window.” He nudged his chin towards the single pane window in the corner of his room, picking up the collar of his t-shirt to wipe his nose. These days Nancy used the front door but back at their old place she was jumping out of his bedroom window like an acrobat for most of the summer before they took off to California. “Mom has a sixth sense for that shit so don’t even bother lying.” 
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bowie-byers · 7 months
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following in the footsteps of a dear friend ... but things are slowly brewing behind the scenes! I will be revamping my muse page shortly if there's anyone looking to write! I tend to stick to canon stranger things characters but I have a few oc's that I love immensely (and will be added!) (21+, no smut).
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