#i'm sorry this is so long

[trashpandacraft]

hi! ok so i'm going to talk about one of my top-five favourite things, which is: dyeing stuff! this is going to be specifically about dyeing protein fibres (animal fibres—wool, alpaca, silk, etc) in a pretty low-key way in your kitchen.

to be clear up front: this is not the most scientific, most perfectly reproducible, or most Objectively Correct way to dye things. i get a lot of fibre that i like this way, though, and i think that other people can, too.

fibre i've dyed that i think is neat:

you can also dye yarn like this:

yes, i like blue a lot. i also really like variegation and heathering, which is why most of the fibre here has patches of white—it's an intentional choice that i've made. you can make different choices.

here is what you need to dye things:

fibre, vinegar, dye, a pot, heat, and some water.

that was so you don't get overwhelmed by the impending wall of text. here is what you need to dye things (it's the same stuff!), but with way more detail:

fibre or yarn. this is the big one, obviously. i tend to dye in 100-200 gram batches, because that's approximately what fits on my stovetop easily. if you're very nervous about felting or harming your fibre, you can use stuff that's been treated to be superwash, start with yarn (which is harder to felt than fibre is), or use a felt-resistant breed like dorset or suffolk. honestly, though, i learned with merino because that's what i had, and it was fine. again, though, this guide is only for protein fibres. it will not work for things like cotton. the only exception to this is nylon, which will take on some colour, but less than a protein fibre will.

a mordant. this is a fancy way of saying a thing that makes dye stick, and for what we're doing here, it's citric acid or vinegar. your grocery store definitely has at least one of them, though if you can choose, i prefer citric acid, because i love wet wool smell but i do not always love wet wool vinegar smell.

dye. i use acid dyes, and am personally deeply loyal to dharma acid dyes, but ashford and jacquard acid dyes work the same way. if you don't want to buy dye or don't have access to it, food colouring will often work, as well, though i haven't tried this with natural food colourings and have no idea how well they'll work.

a dedicated dye pot. ok, if you're doing food dyes, you don't need this. if you're not, it's definitely best practice, though i don't know how dangerous it is not to. any large metal pot will do, but my favourite option is hotel pans, which are those huge metal pan/tray things that hold food at buffets and the like. i have a full-size one that's 15cm deep, and a half-size one that's 4cm deep. they're great because they let you lay out the fibre you're working with so you can see most of it in a single layer.

dedicated dye utensils. as before, i don't know how much of a huge deal this is. i'll be honest and admit that for several years i had a single pair of tongs that got used for all tong-requiring events, including dyeing, and i'm still alive. i suggest that you have at least a big spoon, and a big spoon and tongs are even better.

something to mix the dye in. yeah, i use empty plastic sports drink or soda bottles for this. you can be fancy and get mason jars or little squirt bottles or whatever, and if you get super into dyeing you'll want to mix up dye stocks, but that's way outside the scope of what we're doing here. i like the powerade bottles that have a little squirty mouthpiece, because it's fun to squirt dye onto things.

personal protective equipment. i think this is the part of things that freaks people out. ideally, you wear plastic gloves and a mask (yeah, like your covid masks) when you're working with dye. realistically, i almost never remember to put on gloves and just accept that my hands are going to be blue sometimes. you should wear a mask, because dye is an irritant, but the world is an imperfect place and i have wicked bad adhd and sometimes i forget. this isn't advice. i'm just being honest. you should use some kind of safety stuff. you probably won't die if you don't.

you might also want some little random bits: an old toothbrush or paintbrush, a pipe cleaner, some toothpicks, etc. this is mostly if you like speckles, or if you want very small patches of colour.

so first: there are a million ways to dye things, and i'm not convinced that any of them are objectively correct. i do what i do and it works for me. some of the things i do are the opposite of what most guides suggest, but i do them because i like the effects they create.

ok, that's all the background stuff you need. let's dye some stuff!

the number one most important thing to remember when you're dyeing is this:

you can always add more colour. you cannot take it away.

that's in fancy writing and bold because every once in a while i forget this, and every single time i end up regretting it.

here is how to dye things:

put water, citric acid (or vinegar), and fibre into a pot. add dye and heat. let cool completely. rinse the fibre in cool water, then hang to dry.

like, sure, we're going to go into way more detail, but push come to shove, if you do that, you're going to end up with dyed fibre. there are a lot of tutorials telling you that you must soak your fibre first, or you must add your citric acid this way, or hold the water at exactly this temperature, and i'm here to tell you that while any of these things can give you different results, those results aren't necessarily better.

the only way that you can totally screw this up is by accidentally felting your fibre, so before i get into the way more detail part of things, i'm going to talk about that.

how not to felt your fibre

i feel like if you've read this far, you know how things felt: wool, heat, and agitation. you may also notice that at least two of these things are required for dyeing. this can be stressful! but you don't have to be afraid of it. there's only been one time that i felted something to the point that it was unusable, and that happened because i literally fell asleep for several hours while the pot was on the stove. you can avoid doing this by simply setting an alarm—this is a good idea anyhow, because you'll want to check on your dye pot!

when you're dyeing, use the lowest heat that you can while still keeping the water at a simmer. if your stove, like mine, has one burner that's wildly unpredictable and sort of out of control, you may want to look for some sort of flame diffuser, also called a flame tamer or a simmer ring. i bought one on amazon for about fourteen dollars, and it's literally just a thick metal circle. it works fine.

you can also keep the heat low by using a pot with a thick bottom, though in my experience those are expensive, and if i had one i would be using it for soup, not wool.

avoid shocking your wool—never put room temperature wool into hot water, and never put hot wool into cold water. leave your wool in the dye bath until it's cooled completely, which for me usually means overnight.

finally, obviously you have to move the fibre around some. you'll need to peek under it in the pan, and when you're done, you have to rinse it and squish out the water. try to minimise handling, though. don't run water directly onto the fibre, don't get a wooden spoon and stir your dye pot around, don't wring the fibre dry when it's done.

you're probably never going to be perfect. i often find that i lose a gram or two of wool where fibres have grabbed onto each other, or where parts of the ends clumped up. it's not really felted, just sort of compacted, but it's not great to work with, and i'd rather lose a gram of fibre than fuss with the clumpy bits.

back to how to dye things

let's take it step by step, assuming a hundred grams of fibre.

put your pan on the stove and fill it halfway with water. add either a teaspoon of citric acid or a tablespoon of vinegar. this is going to help the dye strike, or stick to the fibre. the teaspoon/tablespoon is a guideline, but one that it's fine to exceed. adding more will help the dye strike faster, which can be useful if you're trying to create blocks of colour on your fibre. i usually err on the side of a little more than the guidelines, and just eyeball this—if you feel like the dye isn't taking well, you can add more later.

add your fibre to the pan. this is the first place you have to think about what you want the finished fibre to look like! you can put it into the pan any way you want, but i suggest trying to keep it in a relatively even layer, regardless of what that layer looks like. here are some ways to get specific effects:

if you want a gradient from one end of the fibre to the other, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the short sides of the pan

if you want a short, repeating gradient, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the long sides of the pan

if you want something that starts with very close repeats that get further apart as you go down the fibre, make an approximate spiral

if you don't want A Pattern (i usually don't) just lay things out in a single layer, more or less

here comes the next exciting part! decide if you want to let your fibre soak or not. again, doing or not doing this gives you some different effects!

soaking your fibre will mean that dye takes more evenly. if you want consistent colours, you'll want to soak.

not soaking your fibre means that the dye takes less evenly. the fibre on top will have less acid available to it, spends less time in the dye bath, and also has to actually get wet before it will start to dye. i actually love doing this, and think it affords a lot of cool opportunities to play with and layer colours.

if you're soaking, leave the fibre there until it's submerged. if not, don't.

now you're going to add dye! decision time, again.

you can add dye when the water is cold, which will give you more even dye coverage, and in my experience gives the colours more time to mix together

you can add dye when when the water is hot, which will give you less even coverage, and tends to encourage the colours to stay more delineated

probably surprising no one, i tend to heat the water first unless i'm starting with a base colour or i'm doing a two-colour gradient.

time to mix up some dye

as i mentioned earlier, i'm assuming that you're using powered acid dyes for this. if you're not, this mixing up part is technically optional—but doing it gives you way more control about how and where you place your colours, so i'm going to assume that you'll do it.

i usually mix dye in some sort of empty drink bottle. regardless of what you're using, before you add dye to anything, put some water in the bottle, wipe off the lip, put the lid on tightly, and shake the bottle vigorously. if there is any leakage at all, do not use that bottle. find a better bottle. if your bottle cap doesn't seal well or if you have an empty condiment bottle that's just a little wonky or whatever, you will get dye all over the kitchen, and your landlord will be really really mad about it, and you will regret your life choices. (if you own your kitchen, you can do whatever you want, but this isn't about you and you know it.)

so you have a bottle that seals tightly! great job. dump out the water and carefully put some dye powder into the bottle. remember earlier how i said you should be wearing a mask? this is the part where you should be wearing a mask.

i know that people are reading this and going, ok, but how much dye do i put in?

my answer is put in the amount that feels right in your heart, and don't forget the number one rule of dyeing things, which is that you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

this isn't a very scientific answer. most dyes have a guideline about how much to use, expressed as a percentage of the dry weight of the fibre, which is what you use to get the whole quantity of fibre dyed evenly. for dharma dyes, it's like 1.5-2%, i think ashford is 1%, and jacquard is more like 2-4%, depending on the colour.

here is the problems with doing that in your kitchen: first, using that much dye will get you an evenly dyed piece of fibre, which—for me, at least—is basically the opposite of what i want. second, and more importantly, unless you have one of those teeny tiny scales used by jewelers and drug dealers, your kitchen scale will not weigh out such tiny quantities with any accuracy. third, if you do it like this, you really have to plan what you're doing ahead of time, because there's a point after which no more dye will bind! the fibre will be like enough thank u that's it i'm good and that'll be it, so you lose some of your ability to decide that actually, you want more green.

you can probably guess, at this point, that i don't weigh the dye. once you've done a couple batches of fibre with a given brand of dye, you'll start to get the vibes for how much you should use. if you really want a guideline, for a hundred grams of fibre, start with a quarter teaspoon of a given colour. you can add more—either more of this colour or a different one—later, as desired.

put your dye in the empty bottle, and then fill the bottle partway with hot water. the amount of water doesn't really matter here, nor does the specific temperature of the water. i usually fill about 3/4 of the way, because that way there's plenty of room for this next step, which is: wipe the lip of the bottle, recap it tightly, and then shake it up real good. the dye powder is going to dissolve into the water, and you now have a bottle of dye!

if you're going for a gradient, you might want to mix up your second colour so you can add them at (basically) the same time for more even mixing. if you're not, or if you only have one mixing bottle, you can do them one at a time.

oh my god we're finally putting dye on the fibre

are you ready? it's time!!

you have basically infinite options for how to do this, and many of them will give you different effects. here are some ideas:

pour the dye all at one side of the pan. and if you don't add anything else, your fibre will fade from the colour of the dye to the natural colour of the fibre

pour two colours, one at either side of the pan. depending on how much dye you use (and remember, you can always add more), this will give you either chunks of colour surrounded by white, or a two-colour gradient

add all the dye to unheated water and mix it gently, then let the fibre soak for a few minutes longer before turning on the heat. this will give you a fairly even colour

pour randomly all over, and you'll either end up with a tonal yarn or a heathered one, depending on how much dye you're using

add the dye to the water under the dry fibre, which will sink in and take up more dye on the bottom of the fibre than the top

if your heat wasn't on before, it should be now, and you're going to let the dye hang out in the hot but not boiling water for a while. how long? well, one of the cool things about dyeing with these dyes is that they exhaust, which means that when the dye has been sucked up by the fibre, the surrounding water will be clear. how long this takes will depend on the specific dye, how much of it you used, how much mordant you used, etc. i try to check every fifteen minutes.

reminder: if you started with room temperature water, the dye's not going to start taking until the water heats up, so don't check it after fifteen minutes and freak out that nothing has happened. it is fully normal for it to take up to an hour for the dye to exhaust. don't turn up the temperature, just give it time.

yay it worked!

at this point, you have a pot of hot water with some beautifully coloured fibre in it! but maybe it's not beautiful enough. maybe you want...more colours.

that's cool as hell and you should go for it. we mentioned two-colour gradients up there, but what if you want something else?

the answer, probably obviously, is adding more dye.

first, a caveat: while you can successfully make multicoloured gradients like this, it's more difficult than you think, and if it gets messed up—all the colours bleed into each other, say—it turns into a muddy mess. my suggestion is to stick to two (or three at most!) colour gradients until you have a much better feel for what you're doing.

let's talk about ways you can add more colour. you have two options: big colour and little colour.

big colour is going to add a lot of colour—you're going to mix up the dye and pour it just like you did before, but paying more attention to places that don't have dye yet. sometimes it's the middle of a gradient, or the white splotches from random pouring, or the half of the fibre that wasn't submerged when you started. or maybe you dyed the whole thing yellow, and now you want to add a blue gradient over top. whatever!

if you don't want to freehand pour, consider buying a couple large syringes, or a bottle with a squeezy top. these are also fun because you can easily get more colour between the laid-out fibre, or even under it.

in the pictures at the start of this post, the red-and-gold top and both yarns were dyed by adding big colour.

little colour isn't going to add big patches, but is going to add speckling, tonal depth, or smaller patches of colour. all of the blue-base fibres and the yellow-and-blue yarn were dyed like this.

if you're still reading this closely, you might have caught that i just said both yarns were dyed with big colour, and that the yellow-and-blue yarn was also dyed with little colour. these are both true! the base colours of the yarn were done to make big colour, but if you look at the full-size image, there are also a bunch of speckles. you can do whatever you want! no one can stop you!

here are some ways to add little colour:

mix up some dye, but use less water. add drops of the dye, either directly onto the fibre (more dramatic!) or in the water (tonal!)

use a toothpick to grab a little bit of dye powder and drop it into the dye bath (similar to the previous one, but a little less predictable)

put on a damn facemask. take a clean toothbrush, paintbrush, or pipecleaner, and just barely touch it to the dye powder. gently flick or tap the brush to add speckles of that colour

find a salt shaker that you're never going to use for anything but this. put citric acid, salt (to make it distribute better), and dye powder into it, and shake it up (with the holes covered, please cover the holes) to make sure they're evenly distributed. gently shake this over the fibre to add speckles, but more of them, and clustered together

put a little dye in a spray bottle and gently mist the exposed fibre, kinda glazing it with colour

another thing is that if you like a natural coloured yarn with dyed speckles, you can do any of these techniques without doing big colour first. the only thing to note when doing this is that you'll want to be very sure to spread out the fibre well, and maybe to consider dyeing one side, then very very carefully flipping it over and getting the other side.

ok, now what?

let's say that you've added all the colours that you want, and you've let your bath simmer long enough that the water is clear, or nearly clear. (if it's not, check troubleshooting, below.)

put the lid on your pan and walk away. if you don't have a lid, just walk away, but it's less dramatic.

the super frustrating part here is that the safest thing to do is wait until the water and fibre is fully cooled before you do anything else.

have i ignored this? yes

has it ever gone horribly wrong? not horribly wrong, but it's definitely caused me to lose an inch or two of roving on occasion

is it way more stressful if you don't wait? absolutely yes

honestly maybe just go to bed and deal with your fibre in the morning

so now let's say that it's morning and you slept long enough that your water and fibre are both room temperature, which often actually feels quite cool on your hands.

you have to drain your fibre. there are two ways to do this:

lift the fibre out of the water. this has the upside of not risking dumping your beautiful fibre into your sink, and not needing to maneuver a full pot of water, both of which are admirable. the downside is that wet fibre is fragile, and you'll want to be careful to support it.

dump the water out of the pan. this has the upside of minimising how much handling you're doing of the fibre, as well as (in my opinion) making rinsing easier. the downside is attempting to keep the fibre into the pot while you dump the water into the sink, and also needing to carry around a full pot of water.

secret third option: dump the fibre (and the water) into a strainer. upside: very easy, and you can keep the fibre in the strainer while you rinse, minimising both how much it needs to be handled and the weight on the fibre. downside: i never remember that this is an option until i'm already elbows-deep in acidulated water, discovering every tiny cuticle tear.

you're going to fill your dyepot with water again so that you can rinse the fibre. you want to minimise thermal shock, so keep the water temperature as close to the temperature of the fibre as you can, and don't run the water directly onto the fibre. i like to pull all the fibre to one side of the pan, and fill the pan on the other side.

side note: if you, smart person, remembered that you can use a colander, simply fill a pot with water, put the colander in the pot, and gently agitate the colander.

if you, person who is deeply relatable, did not remember you can use a colander and now have a pot with clean water and fibre, gently move your fibre in the water to encourage any excess dye and also citric acid to get out of there.

drain your fibre again, and this time, you're going to squeeze it dry. you're still trying to minimise agitation, so this isn't a 'wring it out' situation, it's a 'gently squish it between your hands and/or a hand and the side of the pot' situation.

hang your fibre to dry. remember what i was saying earlier about it being fragile? let me suggest, here, that you do not simply drape the entire length over a single hanger or something and hope for the best. if you literally have a single hanger, at least drape it back and forth a bit, but better if you can use more than one hanger, or a clothes drying rack, or that weird metal wine rack thing that came with your fridge that you've never used, or whatever.

important reminder: drip-drying things will make your floor wet! if you live somewhere very clear with no major roads or pollen nearby, you can probably dry things outside, but if you don't, you'll probably want to position the drying rack in a bath, shower, laundry area, or otherwise over something that will catch and/or absorb the water.

how long it takes for the fibre to dry is another unknowable variable. if it's warm and dry where you are, it might literally be overnight. if it's damp and cool, it can take days. the batch i posted a couple days ago literally took almost a full week to dry. spread it out as best you can, gently squeeze out the water you can, and otherwise you just have to wait.

you're done!

when it's dry, that's it, you're done! you might find that you need to pick off some little lint balls or a bit of compacted or slightly felted fibre from the tips, but other than that, you should be good to go.

like most fibre stuff, this is best maintained by handwashing in cool water. you may see a little bit of dye or colour loss the first time you wash it, which is pretty normal and nothing to worry about.

congratulations! you made it to the end of this incredibly long post, and if you followed along, you've just dyed some fibre!

troubleshooting

this isn't dyed enough! i want more colours!

add more dye! i'm not the boss of you.

this is true even after the fibre is all done and dryed. there's nothing that says you can't dye it again—you can, and i have.

some fibre seems to require more dye than others. silk, for example, dyes beautifully with acid dyes, but also needs way more dye than i expect it to.

remember that if you're dyeing something that's a wool/cotton blend, for example, the cotton isn't going to dye. the only exception is nylon, which will kinda dye, but not as dramatically. this guide will not work for plant fibres.

this is too dyed! i want fewer colours!

please refer back to the number one most important thing about dyeing, which—as you know—is: you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

pull out some more fibre and try again. this has a learning curve, just like any other fibre craft.

these colours don't look like i expected!

this can be about a lot of things.

colour guides, especially if you're looking at them online, aren't always very accurate.

colour guides tend to assume that you're dyeing a single colour at the suggested dye percentage of weight, and using less than that will give paler colours.

dyes, especially if you're mixing brands, can interact with each other and behave in ways you didn't expect.

dyes can also break, which is when they split into their component colour molecules. this happens commonly with blacks and browns, food colouring, and anything that dharma trading has marked as 'advanced'. some people find this very desirable and seek it out; some people are very frustrated by it.

the ph of your water can sometimes affect your dye. i've been lucky enough that i've only lived places with lead problems, not weird ph stuff, so i haven't investigated this closely, but if you're consistently not getting the results you expect, even going for a single, solid-colour dye, look at the ph.

my dye water's not clear!

if you used a quarter teaspoon of dye and a hundred grams of fibre, and it's been, say, 45 minutes of actually hot water and your water still isn't clear, you probably didn't use enough mordant, and you should add some more citric acid or vinegar to encourage the dye to get in there and do its thing.

if you used you used more like a teaspoon of dye, or if the citric acid doesn't change anything, you used too much dye for your fibre. you can either shrug and pour it down the drain, or you can add some more fibre and dye that, too.

my rinse water's not clear!

you probably used too much dye. it's ok—just keep rinsing it, gently, until it's more or less clear.

some colours just like to run—you know how every once in a while you get a yarn and it just bleeds a little bit every time you wash it? sometimes it's just like that. i wouldn't worry about it too much.

my fibre has felty/clumpy bits!

a little bit of this is normal, especially at the ends of a fibre that felts easily (this means you, merino!)

pick off the bits that you don't like—this is generally fairly easy, and involves very minimal fibre loss. i don't bother doing it until i sit down to spin, and then just pull off bits as i come to them.

if there's a lot of felty/clumpy bits, more than you can reasonably pick out, you agitated the fibre too much. there's not much for this other than trying to card it out, which may or may not work.

sometimes this happens because your stove got weirdly aggressive and boiled your fibre. especially for wool that's prone to felting, the bubbling and jostling can be enough to encourage more clinginess than you'd like.

i want my dyeing to be reproducible!

this is kinda doable. it's a handmade thing, so it's always going to have some natural variance, but you can do it.

buy a jeweler's scale that measures in fractions of a gram.

start measuring your dye and acid, and take detailed notes about what you do.

follow those notes in the future, and you'll be probably 90% of the way there.

i want to dye with natural dyes!

i fully support this and have played around with it a little bit myself, but absolutely do not know enough about it to advise you.

the internet is very large and full of many people who are much smarter than i am, and i feel confident that at least one of them is desperate to tell you all about how to do natural dyeing.

i am, at this point, not that person.

i want to dye plant fibres!

i am begging you to find another guide, because this one will not work.

you didn't answer my question!

that's what my inbox is for

i have to reiterate that i'm just a person with real specific interests who started dyeing things because i couldn't find or afford the kinds of colourways that i wanted.

i am not a professional

i will do my best to answer questions, but sometimes the answer is 'just fuck around until you find out'

plant fi—

shhhhh

the end

thank you for reading this incredibly long post! i might make another one in the near future, either so i can show pictures or because i took out an entire section about how to choose colours and pick a colour scheme and work with colours, and i kinda want to talk more about that, but this is no joke almost six thousand words long, so i thought, you know. maybe not tonight.

anyhow, i hope that this was useful to someone! thank you for letting me talk about one of my very favourite things.

#dyeing #craftblr #fiber arts #fiber craft #fibre arts #fiber #fibre #dyeing wool #i'm sorry this is so long #it kinda got away from me #i just want to tell people about cool stuff! #and then talk about the cool stuff for an unreasonably long time #you know #like a normal person #anyhow this was fun #dyeing is super fun and you should try it #sorry to say that i am Not editing this #because i only edit things when people are paying me for them #but i did make my wife read it to make sure i got all the main stuff #so we should be good #still: sorry for any stylistic inconsistencies #smartest raccoon i know

[dear-evan-fansen]

So many criticisms of Dear Evan Hansen revolve around the show being messy/morally convoluted as if that was an overlooked flaw in the writing and not the whole point of the show.

Everything in Dear Evan Hansen is intentionally messy. Everything has two sides. Social media is a positive place where people can come together to make a difference AND it's a breeding ground for hate and vitriol. Evan is a deeply caring, empathetic person AND he does a horrible thing. Heidi is a dedicated, loving mother AND she works so hard that she never spends any time with her son. Connor is agressive, angry, violent, AND he is a depressed, lonely person, ostracized by his peers and longing for connection. Larry Murphy is a domineering authority figure who treats his son like a criminal AND he's a frustrated parent that wants to help Connor get better the only way he knows how. Evan's lies are harmful and manipulative AND they give a family that was tearing apart at the seams time to come together, reflect, and grieve.

All of these things can be true at the same time, and one doesn't have to overshadow or cancel out the other. In ignoring one to focus on the other, you're wilfully missing the point of the story. Real life is messy and complex, and that's exactly what the show is trying so hard to emulate. That's not bad writing, it's just being realistic.

Pasek and Paul said that in its earliest form, the show was meant to look at why people insert themselves into tragedy through a much more cynical lense, criticizing people like Evan. But somewhere in the writing process they found that it's not that simple, because people don't just do that shit for no reason, and it's naive to believe they would. Evan didn't do what he did to be popular or get a girlfriend or gaslight a grieving family. He did it because he saw a chance to help people who were hurting. In the process, he found connection that he had longed for his whole life, and allowed that to complicate things, making him a lot more reluctant to do the right thing and come clean. But the show makes it explicity clear that his initial intention was rooted in helping someone else, not himself. And as bad as it was, it did force the Murphys to come to terms with their loss instead of running away from it, to come together instead of drifting apart.

Yes, the morality of everything that happens in the show is deeply questionable, complex and muddy and that's the ENTIRE POINT. It doesn't mean the show is endorsing what Evan did. The vast majority of the fan base doesn't endorse what Evan did either. Most of us understand what that final scene in the orchard is getting at. It's not arguing that what Evan did was somehow morally correct, or handing him some magical "get out of jail free card". It's acknowledging ALL the consequences of his actions (good AND bad, the healing he brought about AND the hurt he caused) and letting us come to terms with that along with him and move forward. That scene encompasses one of the most important messages of the show: that doing something bad doesn't make you evil. One mistake doesn't have to define you for the rest of your life, and it doesn't make you less human, or any less deserving of growth and self acceptance.

#i'm sorry this is so long #i have so many thoughts about this show and i'm so tired of seeing it dragged through the mud #dear evan hansen #deh #ben platt #will roland #mike faist #connor murphy #laura dreyfuss #zoe murphy #heidi hansen #larry murphy #jared kleinman #alana beck

[arabella-s-arts]

This will include My Adventures with Superman episode 6 spoilers.

Why on earth is there so much discourse about maws? I feel like most of us are on the same side and are just misunderstanding each other. So now, I'm going to share my own thoughts on the topic.

For those who think that Lois had a sh*tty reaction to finding out Clark is Superman, I agree. She literally lied to him in the first episode about something that actually involved him, and could get him into trouble (or literally fired). Clark has every right to keep being Superman a secret, it doesn't involve her, and despite how quickly their relationship has progressed, he's still only known her for a month at most. As far as Clark is concerned, the only other people to know are his parents. Plus, he's still figuring things out himself, and it's not anybody's right to know something about him, especially when he still doesn't know the whole story yet.

For those of you who think Lois is a bad person for this reaction or that it is a mark of bad writing, I disagree. Characters need to have flaws, and they're not always going to understand others' point of views. It's actually really good writing for characters to have flaws, and this flaw is definitely not outweighing the good which is Lois Lane. And you know what? You can definitely be mad at her for her flaw. She did a bad thing, there's no reason why we shouldn't be mad. I can understand where she's coming from, and I still think she's a good person, but that doesn't mean what she did is right. She basically forced Clark to out himself (there are actually a lot of parallels between superhero secret identities and being in the closet), and that's not okay.

I don't love how the story line was handled in episode 6, because it was Clark who tried to apologize, and who had to explain himself at the end. It made it seem like Clark was somehow in the wrong, even if we were supposed to be sympathetic toward his situation. And Lois made me even more mad at her when she was pissed at Jimmy for not telling her that Clark was Superman, when it wasn't Jimmy's secret to tell. I also don't like how Clark was going to tell Jimmy he was Superman. It just felt like he was being pressured into it, and kept up the idea that what Clark was doing before was wrong, and now he is trying to course correct or something.

I do however love Jimmy knowing about Clark being Superman. I love that Jimmy is not an idiot, I love that he gave Clark all the space he could possibly need, waiting for Clark to tell him himself. I love that he just went along with their alarm clocks always being broken, and came up with an excuse for it, so Clark wouldn't have to.

#for those of who think I didn't like this episode #you are absolutely wrong #I loved it #I was just disappointed by Lois #but I still like her #the french gorilla and his german robotic lover are iconic #I'm sorry this is so long #I'm not the most eloquent #superman #clark kent #jimmy olsen #lois lane #my adventures with superman #maws

[shazzaofdoom]

I am having Magnus Thoughts (tm) and I will once again make it everyone’s problem. (Spoilers ahead, mostly for Master of Prospero and Morningstar, but also just in general.)

The thing is, it makes me feral how Magnus the Red: Master of Prospero is basically an elaborate set-up for a Trolley Problem.

So, the trolley problem! I’m not going to explain it all here, but broadly it’s a thought experiment that asks: Is it better to take action to save many lives, even if your action makes you directly responsible for the death of a few? Or should you avoid actively causing death, even if through your inaction you allow the deaths of many? There are a few different versions with fun little twists, and it’s meant to make you reflect on the nature of moral reasoning. (Wikipedia it if you need more information.)

The Trolley Problem is not a comfortable choice. Sometimes there’s no clean distinction between good and bad: they come parcelled together, and you have to live with a stain on your conscience either way. On Morningstar, Magnus has to reckon with this discomfiting truth, and it is crucial to what he does after Master of Prospero, and so in turn how that feeds into his choices later in the Heresy. It also highlights aspects of his character that are often flattened together under the label of ‘arrogance’. So I am going to unpack this a bit, because when I woke up this morning my brain said I had to.

Master of Prospero touches on the discomfort Magnus feels about massacring innocent refugees from Morningstar so that they can’t spread across new planets and potentially destroy those as well:

‘There is one last dark deed before us.’ (p193) - Magnus knows it is not a noble act: though it is in the name of saving countless lives, it is not the act of a saviour.

‘I am sure,’ said Magnus. ‘Throne, I wish I was not.’ (p196) - Yes, he’s confident that this must be done, but he’s not comfortable with it: the lesser of the two evils is still evil. But it is still lesser as well, and a non-decision is also a decision.

‘I still hear the dead of Morningstar screaming’ (p199) - Bro :(

And the depth of his discomfort becomes starkly apparent in the audio drama Morningstar when it is revealed that Magnus has psychically altered the memories of his entire legion so they don’t remember being party to the Morningstar massacre. That’s, like, so incredibly messed up. But also incredibly interesting, because it shows the extent to which Magnus really can’t cope with the decision he made to turn around and kill thousands upon thousands of helpless people who were counting on him (among others) to save them. (I mean, fair. That's a big yikes.)

He says a couple of interesting things in this regard:

“I sought to spare all my sons the awful burden of that terrible necessity. But not a day goes by when I do not regret what we had to do to the people of that world” (14:18)

“For what father does not desire to spare his sons pain? I never told you because I knew how you would look upon me forever after, knowing what I had done” (14:47). 

First off, it’s pretty obvious that Magnus never really came to terms with the decision he made on Morningstar. He feels continued regret, and he’s really not proud of it. But on top of this, he didn't want to burden his legion with the ‘terrible necessity’ they were party to. So, his solution is to erase the memory of Morningstar from their minds (/facepalm). In doing so he can feel some relief: he suffers his own guilt for Morningstar, but not the guilt of burdening his legion with his decision - he is the only one who carries the weight of responsibility.

(Also, I will just point out though that it seems like Magnus has a general tendency to treat his legion like ducklings rather than, y’know, genetically engineered supersoldiers. I’m thinking specifically of p72 of Master of Prospero, where Magnus and the lads are trying to find survivors from a massive earthquake: “The Thousand Sons formed up on their primarch and Magnus did his best to shield them from the psychic horror and grief of the city’s people”. ) 

Anyway. This all illustrates what I think is a core dynamic of Magnus’ character. Of course, we have the old familiar flaw, trotted out for every character analysis: ~* arrogance *~ clapclapclap good job everyone we have summarised the large red man in one word, let’s all go home. Except this only goes halfway, and is missing the extent to which empathy or fellow-feeling or concern for others… something of that sort is often a significant motivator for Magnus. 

And before anyone accuses me of being a soppy apologist, I think this is important because it can be found at the root of a lot of his problems that he brings on himself (smh ilu, you disaster). It’s not a redeeming quality, because he tends to do a bad job of it. It’s the ol’ tragic flaw: too much of a good thing (caring) can be bad (whoops, accidentally sold my soul to Tzeentch). 

Oughhhh, ok, the Tzeentch thing is a pretty good illustration of this dangerous combination, even if it’s purposefully a bit vague in canon. It’s often pointed at as an illustration of arrogance, and fair enough: the big man thought he could outfox some kind of eldritch deity. The peak of hubris, sure. No arguments here. But, like. Remember why he did it. Remember that he wasn’t selling his eye/soul/whatever for ultimate power. It wasn’t for personal gain. He wanted the lads to stop exploding into tentacle monsters. That’s the Magnus contradiction right there: arrogant enough to think he can get away with saving people, and cares enough to massively overreach in his decision-making. (God, he’s so interesting, I want to crumple him into a ball and scream.)

His caring and his ego are two sides of the same disaster coin. Narratively, ‘care’ is often depicted as a weakness that can be exploited - not just in Warhammer, but in a lot of stories. What you care about is where you are vulnerable. Magnus is no exception - his desperation to save his legion made him vulnerable to temptation. But, it’s important to remember that the act of caring and power are also intimately linked: being cared for often correlates with vulnerability, and by implication it is likely that whoever has the power to care for you has power over you. (This is where we get problems with paternalism - and what is the Horus Heresy if not a series of dad-based problems?) In the end, it was the decision-making power that Magnus asserted over the fate of his legion that kind of, y’know. It didn’t go well. Arguably.

So, I do think that first and foremost, Magnus’ central problem is that he believes his own hype. Whoaa, the most psychic guy Prospero has ever seen!! Whoaaa, a Son of the Emperor!1! But flattening that out to simple ‘arrogance’ misses a crucial facet of this: yeah, he thinks he knows better than everyone else, but also he has read his Spiderman comics. He knows what comes with great power. Importantly, he also feels the weight of that great responsibility in an acutely personal manner. Not just as a leader who occupies a position of power that allows him to get things done, and not just as a representative of the Imperium, but as someone who can directly intervene to save people. 

(And like, as an aside, I know Master of Prospero is set up to kind of be this ‘oh, Magnus is more interested in excavating shit than saving the people’, but like. Damn, having that information sooner might have been useful. Work smarter, not harder. I’m an apologist about this very specific thing. Anyway, I always thought that was a bit weird, cos it does seem like Magnus is generally pretty into saving squishy little mortals, as we are about to see.)

Um, anyway, this is why Perturabo is a great foil to Magnus in this story. While Magnus is out doing his thing, Pert is in the fortress, saddled with doing all the maths and organising needed to get the Lux Ferem off the ground. When it goes wrong he stands there and goes ‘Well, fuck. Can’t do shit about that >:(’ (entirely reasonable, tbh, no criticisms here). Meanwhile Magnus has determined that he can do something about it (maybe) and is putting himself (and the lads) directly underneath a crashing starship (smh ilu, you disaster). 

Some important bits about saving the Lux Ferem:

On p132, Phosis T’Kar asks Magnus if they really can save the ship from crashing on the city, and he replies ‘I truly don’t know… But nor can I simply leave the tens of thousands of people aboard the Lux Ferem and in Calaena to their doom.’

Then after saving the Lux Ferem and being unconscious for a day and a half, Magnus says ‘I had to do something… I could not stand by and let so many die’ (p147). (Oh my god, I love narrative irony and I want to tear my face off). 

(He also says something similar on p150 of Fury of Magnus, after saving the civilians in the Observatory: ‘All I knew was that I couldn’t allow them to perish in the fire when I could save them’.)

Importantly, while he was going tearing underneath the belly of this whole-ass falling sky city, he’s thinking to himself on p133:

Had the Emperor ever dared so greatly? Perhaps, but He rarely spoke of the full extent of His reach. Would Magnus be the first of the primarchs to eclipse his father’s deeds?

Magnus tried to dismiss the thought as fleeting arrogance, but a thorn of it remained lodged in his heart. And who would blame him? What son did not aspire to be more than his father?

Which is the crux of his particular fucked up Molotov cocktail: The care says ‘you cannot stand by where you can intervene to prevent suffering’, and the ego says ‘you, and you are alone, are possessed of the unique genius to do this’. 

The thing is, if you genuinely believe you have the personal power to do (almost) anything, then (almost) everything feels like your personal responsibility, and I think Magnus feels that keenly. If he has the power to save the Lux Ferem, then he must. If he has the ability to save his legion from anguish, then he must. If it is within his grasp to project himself across space and head off a whole lot of nastiness, then… ok you get the picture. 

Magnus feels he is standing at the trolley lever, choosing to move it or not: if he chooses inaction when he could have acted, then the outcome is also his responsibility. He moves it when he believes the other track will be better, but the reality is, none of the tracks are really palatable. (And of course, the horrible flipside of this is when the Space Wolves hit Prospero and Magnus actually did try ‘not pulling the lever’.)

In the skies over Morningstar, Magnus the Red made a choice he couldn’t cope with, because not making the choice was even worse. And it’s so interesting.

#magnus the red #i'm sorry this is so long #maybe i should post it on ao3 #shazza stuff #large red disaster nerd #how was your saturday? #i did this

[arigatonamuse]

A3! OCs - Intros

i love talking about my OCs so i gave in meet my kiddos, everyone

Yasu Hayashi [Y1] 16 years old Shame plant (mimosa pudica)

Masumi's classmate in Hana High Very shy and closed off, he learnt parkour just to avoid having to walk around busy places He's a dancer and actor who is extremely bad at emotions (to the point he can't discern feelings past "okay feeling" and "uncomfortable feeling") except when it comes to showing them on stage, very shy and closed off

(picrew)

Etsuko Nishimura [Y2] 18 years old Bleeding heart

Veludo arts (visual arts) student She's very sociable and happy-go-lucky, with a very... strong sense of justice She loves art, people, cute things and cute girls, that's all she'll tell you about herself

(picrew)

Castel Medina [Y1] 18 years old Iris they started as an SI at first, then became their own character

Tsuzuru's classmate at Yosei They're shy and slightly aloof, but a chaotic gremlin at the same time A softie at heart who's always ready to help, which led them to become a stagehand at Mankai

(picrew)

Eli Grimaldi [Y2] 24 years old Black-eyed Susan vine (Thunbergia alata)

An ex convict who moved to Japan with his boyfriend to escape some traumatic experiences they had been through He's a bit of a punk but adores classic literature and did ballet when he was younger. He tries his best to be supportive of everyone and has very strong paternal instincts He now works part time at a bookshop and has a side gig as a choreographer, focusing on fight choreography

(picrew)

Masami Hayashi [Y2] 29 years old Forget-Me-Not

Yasu's older sister who disappeared when he was 8 years old She's a huge perfectionist which a lot of issues from her past she needs to work through. She's an ex-gymnast and now works as a doctor in a clinic that's relatively close to Veludo

(picrew)

Daiki Akiyama [Y1] 32 years old Peony

He's a literature professor at Yosei Uni He's a human disaster who knows A LOT about what he's passionate about but when it comes to other things he's rather… well an airhead. He has some Issues with finding moderation, since his life has been all or nothing since he remembers

(picrew)

-----

i also have a new SI but they don't have many details because if i develop them, they'll become an OC instead

#A3! OCs #long post #i'm sorry this is so long #i wanna talk more about them but that may be for another post #would anyone be interested in which A3! charas each gets along with best and general relationships stuff? #or an explanation for everyone's flowers? #or idk anything #feel free to ask haha

[spectre-writes]

Okay, so… Trigun Stampede thoughts. All 3.3k of them. Goes without saying this will include stampede spoilers, but there will also be some spoilers for trimax and the og anime too. And there will be some critique, but understand that’s coming from a place of love (because I do love the show), but if you’re someone who just can’t deal with people critiquing things you like then uh maybe pass?

I’ll preface this by saying that I never watched the og anime back in the day. I think I tried to watch the first episode a few years back because everyone went on about it being a classic, but I just didn’t vibe with it so I gave up. So for me, there was never any nostalgia involved in my perspective on the show and on stampede as an adaptation. I watched stampede first… well, the episodes that were out at the time, and for some reason my brain just latched onto it. I then watched the og anime in its entirety, read the whole manga, and then watched the remaining stampede episodes as they came out.

Visually, stampede is stunning. I know a lot of people are ‘eh’ about CG but it was pulled off really well, the action is so fluid and the characters are still very expressive. The og anime was a product of its time - it felt very static by comparison, and the fight scenes just weren’t as intense. Some of the wacky faces and things were cool but overall I feel like stampede was a glow up in the visual department.

The tone is definitely darker than the og anime, but I think it’s still not as dark as the manga gets… whether that will change in season 2 we’ll have to see. It did strike me as odd that stampede seems to pulls its punches in some places? Like when Knives makes his grand appearance, at the end of that episode we get a shot where Gofsef and his dad are both bandaged and alive, which was weird? Because Nebraska was screaming about how EG killed his son? Like… did he just never bother to go check? Narratively it’s a strange choice considering they’ve both served their purpose by the end of episode and it feels like the writers both want to punish Vash emotionally for those he failed to save, but also leave them alive?

Same goes for Tonis to a degree… it would have been even more heart wrenching if they had died (especially for Meryl), and it’s not like the show doesn’t do horrible things to children at other points… Knives was just cutting a lot of arms off that episode I guess. But overall, the darker tone works for me - I like that sort of thing, though I get why fans of the old show might miss many of the more lighthearted elements. 

There are quite a few changes from the manga/og anime to stampede, some of which I really like, some I’m less sure about. Guess I'll use bulletpoints for this.

Removing the whole 'Vash creeping on women' thing was absolutely needed, that trope can go die, thank you.

I love how they really leaned into the whole ‘millions knives’ thing and just… gave him a million knives. Made him feel so much more threatening as a villain than he did in the og anime, and fits with the abilities he shows off later in the manga. 

Changing his original name from Knives to Nai (Kni?) makes way more sense than calling a child Knives too.

I’m personally fine with them changing Merly to a reporter and adding Roberto - the insurance girl thing seems a bit silly for the tone they’re going for in stampede, and as it’s also a prequel it gives her room to grow into the character she is after the events of July. And since we know we’re getting Milly in season two I don’t consider ‘no Milly’ a valid complaint.

I don’t mind the changes to Elendira, it’s a way to explain her powers and I think with the timeskip there’s a very real chance we’ll see her more like her manga counterpart in season 2, and I appreciate what they’re trying to do with the whole plant experimentation thing. Like… Knives wanting to wipe out all humans and start a paradise kind of falls flat on its face as a concept when you consider that he and Vash are the only independent plants, and also no one seems to know how to make new plants. Like… their sisters are still going to have to live in containers and as a species they’re a dead end. Him and Conrad looking into solutions to this (for different reasons since Conrad thinks it’s possibly a way for humans to continue as hybrids and Knives only cares about plants) gives the impression that he’s thought things through a bit harder. 

I think some of the changes to Vash and Knives’s relationship are good - I love how in this version, Knives cuts his arm off not just because he’s angry and being a dick about it, but because Vash opened his gate with no control and could accidentally kill them all. He’s trying to save him. You get a real sense that he still cares about Vash… you can see the pain on his face when Vash points his gun at him. 

The choice to split them up earlier too rather than have Vash follow him around for years before they split allows them time to build up their own lives, and when they clash it’s because they have both been pulled in different directions. 

I’m fine with them giving Vash and Knives more distinct personalities as children, with Knives being more quiet and withdrawn and Vash being more outgoing and boisterous… but I do wish they’d left in stuff about how Knives was initially just as hopeful about humanity as Vash was? Like… in the manga, at least, he really wanted humans to be their friends, he wanted to be loved and accepted by them too… part of the tragedy of him is that he wasn’t always the way he is. So it would have been cool to see that.

As for ship 3… I think them first picking up Vash works fine, as again, it gives him a chance to grow apart from Knives and see something good worth protecting again. I’m less sure about Brad and Luida being there? And then also being there 150 years later? Like I get that they want to give Vash a sense of family, but I think what stood out to me about ship 3 was that Vash’s attachment to it isn’t just because of two parental figures… Vash is old. He’s not human. He’s watched generations of these people grow old and die, and he’s loved and cared for their children, and their children’s children. They’re this big community that he loves, and he knows all their names and remembers them all, but he’s never… quite one of them in the same way. Which is kind of the tragedy of being Vash. I would have loved if after the sand steamer episodes, when Vash wakes up there’s a couple of people who look like Brad and Luida there to greet him… but no one mentions their names, and there’s something just… a little off about it, little quirks that aren’t the same… and then it clicks. We get dropped the truth - that that’s not Brad and Luida, that’s their grandchildren. Vash outlived them. He’s 150 years old, he’s always going to outlive humans and that’s just something he has to accept.  It also would have been nice to see more of the other people living on ship 3, especially to set up a part from the manga/og anime which I really, really hope will be adapted. Like… Vash has to see these people that he loves so much just… fall apart in his arms. Families, adults he’s watched grow from infancy, children, everyone… For stampede they now either have the option of killing Brad and Luida that way, or trying to squeeze in some time with the ship 3 peeps in the second season so that their deaths have an impact, when they could have just done the leg work in this season. But hey that’s probably a problem with the limited number of episodes.

Back to other changes… I think introducing Livio that early was a good call, so he doesn’t come out of nowhere later. 

But I do feel like we should have seen more of Legato given the big part he’s supposed to play later (if they follow the manga). He kinda just disappeared after the sand steamer episodes.

I’m… still not sure how I feel about them revealing the whole SEEDs ship thing and Knives part in the crash so early on. I think it was done with intent - stampede (the first season at least) only has 12 episodes to make things happen, so they need to cover stuff fast. For me… while maintaining the mystery for longer was cool, the og anime was too slow. There was a lot of filler and stuff before we even got to the main plot points and honestly if I hadn’t seen stampede I would have given up on it. I think what I would have liked would be some kind of middle ground? Like… something between the two which lets you uncover the mystery but still feeds you enough that you know there’s something there and can begin piecing it together.

Getting to see the July incident as it happens was obviously a change, and I’m on the side about that one too… like… Vash kind of knowing that he completely destroyed a city but having no memory of it and trying to figure out what happened and that being part of his journey? I feel like we won’t get that, because Meryl and Wolfwood can just tell him what happened. It’s not going to hang over him in the same way. 

And on that subject, I think they really, really needed to dedicate some time to just… showing people living in July? In the manga, when Vash regains his memory of destroying July, part of why it’s so traumatic is because he spent several days living there, talking to the people there… seeing their kindness, glimpsing that community, getting to be a part of that briefly… and he just erases all those smiling faces in the blink of an eye. In stampede we only see some military police who shot Vash and tried to capture him, and one noodle seller who none of the main gang interacts with. I just… think July would have so much more impact if we’d had an episode dedicated to them spending time there first… This also means we probably won’t get Vash accidentally mindblasting the event into Meryl’s brain (because she was there anyway and Vash never connected with the people in the city), which personally I think is a shame…

Last change that stands out to me is that Vash's use of the angel arm is fully intentional in this adaptation. I’m on the fence on this? On one hand, it’s needed, because Vash has been fairly passive for a lot of this show, and horrible things just happen to him, so for him to have some agency and sort of win a fight makes for a more satisfying climax? On the other hand, the horror of Kives forcing him to manifest the arm against his will and him not being able to control that part of himself is sort of gone? We do still get the creepy sort-of-rape buisness with Knives making him uhh… do that to the other plants and go all black and viney, but it’s different? It’s… yeah, I dunno. Makes me wonder if they’re going to do anything with the 5th moon incident and all that, seeing as it’s strange for Vash to seemingly have so much more control over his abilities and still get made to basically cause the same catastrophe twice… It would feel less satisfying happening a second time around if he just does the same thing we saw during July and tries to blast the energy into space? So on one hand I like it and on the other hand I don’t, if that makes sense?

Moving on from changes, I think the show could have also benefited from some stuff that was skipped/missing. Some of this would have resulted in better pacing, better characterisation, or fill a few plot holes that go ignored. I guess the best way for me to cover this is to go in order of episodes?

So, I’m fine with the start, but maybe there should have been one more episode between Wolfwood’s introduction and the sand steamer episodes. We get the one with Rollo, but I think one more to cement his place in the group would have been nice. I also think the sand steamer event should have had one more episode. A lot of the two we get is filled with flashbacks, and while I love those (and the style they’re done in) it means that there’s less time to cover events happening in the present. The badlads gang just… kind of shows up, gets punched down by Vash, and disappears again… they don’t serve much of a purpose. Having an extra episode for them to be more of a threat, and Vash (and maybe Roberto and Meryl) having to deal with that would be more satisfying (for me at least). And if we want to stick a little closer to the source material, then Vash dealing with the badlad’s gang leader could result in him helping them (maybe with the canon this time? Because two people pushing it up is silly, not gonna lie I had to suspend my disbelief for that). So yeah, that would be my first major change.

Then I still have an issue with how it’s never explained how Vash gets from the plant room on the sand steamer to ship 3. Did he call them? Do they have some kind of ‘Vash is in danger’ sensor that alerted them he was in trouble? How did they convince Meryl and Wolfwood and Roberto to let them take him?

I would, if I could, add another episode after the flashback one which shows Vash getting picked up, and then gives us a little more time on ship 3. Time to see the people there, get a sense of the community that lives there… I also think we could have actually seen Meryl and Roberto getting kidnapped, because that happening offscreen was weird. 

As I mentioned before, another episode to better flesh out July is needed. And I think I would maybe add another episode so that we could have some more time on flashbacks… specifically, there’s events from the manga that I feel were too briefly touched upon in stampede to have their full effect. 

I am, of course, talking mostly about Tesla… In a lot of ways, she’s the turning point for the twins. Before then, they were both hopeful about humanity and wanted to be accepted by them. But after Tesla… they break down. 

Following the manga, Knives and Vash lock themselves away for days. When Rem finally gets to them, Knives ends up in a coma. Vash wakes up first, and faced with the reality of what humans did to his older sister… he tries to kill himself. Just grabs the knife and goes for it. Rem stops him by grabbing the blade, and Vash ends up stabbing her. And there’s this moment… a brief moment, when Vash seems happy with what he’s done… before it all comes crashing down and he realizes what he’s done, how that’s not what he wants, and he drops the knife and patches Rem up.

When she wakes up again, they have a conversation. She tells him about her depression following her partner’s death, and how she had a dream where she was handed a blank train ticket. And she was happy because it could take her anywhere. And after that, she joined the SEEDS project, which led her to meeting Vash and Knives. She tells Vash that everyone deserves that blank ticket.

This is a really important moment for him, because I think that’s where he solidifies his ideals. The idea that people all deserve the chance to start fresh. The idea that killing isn’t okay because it robs people of that chance, and also dying isn’t okay because of his promise to her… 

Stampede touches on it briefly with Vash telling Luida and Brad that he wanted them to leave him there to die, but I think the manga touches on it much more closely. Vash has… tried to kill himself as a child. And I think, at times, he would quite like to die as an adult too (because he goes through so much suffering). But he doesn’t, because he has so much to do and people to protect and he promised Rem… and ugh, it hurts, but he still has that blank ticket. And sometimes, he still finds joy in the world, and those little moments mean a lot…

And we’ve seen that Vash is capable of lashing out too. He stabbed Rem. But in the same way that Knives used to be as loving of humanity as Vash, Vash had the same capacity to strike as his brother… 

Now, Knives… when he wakes up, he says he remembers nothing (idk if that’s actually true it’s very possible he was lying). They tell him about Tesla. He pretends everything is fine, but he quietly plots to take down the ships, and we get a panel of him biting at his hand while he works… you get an idea that he’s super anxious. He’s afraid. He’s so afraid of what humans could do to him and his brother, and that’s what motivates him. Not just hate or betrayal, but a deep, visceral fear he won’t admit to. I feel like stampede didn’t quite hit the mark there… 

We might get a closer look at the events around Tesla in a season 2… it’s implied (?) in stampede that Knives might have absorbed what was left of her (which is a departure from the source, but also sets up/hints at later major plot points). But we’ll see.

On the whole I think the pacing of the very last episode was fine. And they’ve set some stuff up for season two (Milly confirmed)!

Moving into season two there’s going to be changes to the source again, but I am super glad we’ll be getting to stuff that the og anime never had a chance to adapt. One thing I am curious about is Wolfwood… seeing as in stampede, he’s already betrayed Vash and handed him over to Knives and cut his ties (?) to the Eye of Michael. So, this time around, I’m guessing his motive for tracking down Vash is going to be either personal, or he is invested in stopping Knives or the Eye of Michael and wants to find Vash because Vash could help… 

I also wonder how much of his memory Vash has lost… and are we going to get the darkening hair effect? Please say we still get the 5th moon incident? Can we have more body horror pretty please? Are they aiming for a different ending from the manga or are they going to play that the same? I… kind of, really want a scene of Vash and Knives actually reconciling this time and maybe playing piano together… 

So yeah… that’s… kind of my thoughts for the moment, as best I can put them. I really enjoyed stampede! I think it has some flaws but I’m so glad to have been pulled into the Trigun universe and experience these characters and I am very excited for what comes next. 

#trigun #trigun stampede #just pouring my thoughts out in an essay I guess #I'm sorry this is so long

[lakecountylibrary]

How would one who is out of the district get a lcpl card?

Ah! You have Options!

I live in Indiana, but not in LCPL's district:

If you're in Indiana, you can get a free limited access card that lets you check out most of our physical collection - books and DVDs and that sort of thing (no video games, though.)

To get this card, just fill out our online application (you can also do this at the library) and bring in a photo ID with your current address along with your library card in good standing from the library district you DO reside in. If your photo ID doesn't have your address, we've linked to other forms of suitable identification on the application page.

But I want access to the ebooks and streaming (or: I don't live in Indiana):

Anyone can purchase an in-district card (also called a library subscription or a full access card) regardless of where you live. This card gives you access to absolutely everything our taxpayer residents get, including but not limited to video games, Libby, the Libratory, and research databases.

At the moment (April 2024), this card is $55 for a year of access (which breaks down to about $4.58 a month - cheaper than Netflix, though you do have to pay for the full year at once.)

The price is regulated by Indiana Code 36-12-2-25 (d). Which is to say, we're not totally in control of that price and it could change - so if you're reading this from the future, double check!

Details on how to sign up for this card, how to pay, and the current price are on www.lcplin.org/library-subscription

I go to school or teach in your district, but live elsewhere:

If you're a high school student or a teacher who goes to school/teaches in our district but lives outside of our district, you can have a free digital access card! That gives you access to our streaming/downloadable collections, research databases, that sort of thing. You can upgrade it to check out physical items as well - also for free - by coming in to a branch with an ID (details here (PDF))

Your school should have given you a card at the beginning of the school year. If they didn't, get in touch with our reference desk and we'll see why that might be and if we can fix it.

I hope one of those options will work for you! If you need more details on any of them, or if you have a unique situation not covered here, feel free to ask!

#i'm sorry this is so long #i fell victim to the fatal librarian need to explain everything in detail #LCPL reply #anon #anonymous #library card #public libraries

[number1spongebobfan]

Masterpost

I'm a really sensitive person so I decided to make a do-not-interact list. Don't reblog, follow or talk to me if you follow this criteria.

DNI if:

NSFW

Kink (especially if you post fetish art/stories of children's media characters)

Art Thieves

Discourse

Racists, Bigots, Misogynists, Nazis etc.

Wiccans

Satanists/Demonists

ABDL/DDLG

Zoophiles

P*dophiles/MAP Supporters (thank God I was never groomed but still)

Vehemently Pro Ab*rtion (thank God I never had an ab*rtion or was ab*rted but still)

Pro Sp*nkers (thank God I was never sp*nked or hit but still)

Vehemently Anti-Catholic or Anti-Christian

Thinspo/Pro ana (thank God I never had an ED but still)

You tell people who have False Memory Syndrome that their memories are real.

S*icide Glorifyers

Serial Killer Idolizers

Bots, P*rn Bots

Cyberbullies, Harassment

ACAB

Acephobes

Radical Left or Radical Right

#dni list #dni #do not interact #I'm sorry this is so long #the amount of dumb acronyms I had to type out UGH #I just want to keep myself safe online #blog info #trigger warning

[local-lamppost]

Does Akio want power?

There are very few characters who make my skin crawl like Akio Ohtori. He is a very real type of villain, outwardly charming in order to manipulate others. Not to mention his color scheme/character design is one of the most visually appealing in the show-I mean how many people can pull off a bright red shirt?

This is all to say, I hate Akio. I finish nearly all my thoughts about this fictional character with an obligatory "fuck you, Akio" whether they be internal or external. It is due to this hatred that I find Akio so interesting, and I've finally found the nerve to write something about this monster.

This is going to be a long one

================================================

At the end of the series, Akio steals Utena's sword in an attempt to claim the 'power of Dios', to regain the nobility and virtue-the power-from his youth; but the sword breaks against the seal. This is a failure Akio treats with nonchalance, reclining with a drink while Anthy takes the wrath meant for him. This las a fair attitude towards failure and Anthy's pain is often explained with the amount of times its happened. Tens of hundreds of thousands of times Akio has failed. He is some immortal, deceased, fallen deity, angel, devil, prince with all the time in the world. He is a patient man, looking out for his own wants and interests. He places importance in people only to the extent that they are useful to him. But what if Akio already has what he wants? What if instead of power, Akio is after control and as such he has more than succeeded.

So, what's the difference? Power and control are often tied to each other. Well, power is something innate to yourself, it is a force directly used. Control is ever so different. There is self control, but what I'm talking about is control over others. Control is managing the power of others. Power is a punch. Control is getting someone to punch.

Dios was powerful. He was a divine authority with the ability to shield all the world's princesses from harm.

Dios died.

Noble, just, honest, virtuous, glorious Dios died feebly in a hut unable to protect his little sister, let alone a princess. The witch, his sister, Anthy loved him so much she took on his role as shield; she possessed the power necessary to survive the world's hatred. Is this power her own? Was it stolen from Dios? Only Anthy and Akio would know and neither are ever likely to talk about it clearly. What we know is that Anthy stopped Dios and in his place Akio took form. Anthy overpowered Dios. The Witch sealed the Prince away and only the aid of a Princess can revolutionize the world; create a world where Prince's never fall, where Witches don't exist, where Princess' give their power to their Prince to fight their battles.

But, what happens when a prince stops fighting thee front line?

Lucifer, God's son, child of the ruler of heaven, a prince, rebelled and fell through the earth. There he claimed himself King.

Dios died a prince, Akio lives as a king.

A kings power comes not from himself, but his people. The people imagine the king as better and thus it is his right to rule. To control with limited, indirect, risk. Kings have knights, advisors, and princes to serve them after all.

Ohtori is a school, Akio is its chairman. He is the top authority figure for everyone within. Akio is free to drive his car, keep an astrological projector, and break the rules without consequence. None of this is due to his own money or power. He is engaged to the actual chairman's daughter and sleeping with his wife, whom it's implied Akio has manipulated or charmed to kill the chairman. Without these engagements, Akio would have no position at the school. He wouldn't even be an Ohtori. His magic too is not his own. Akio requires duelists, illusions, and-most of all-Anthy to keep his kingdom together. Even then, the only part of all this (his engagement, his relationship with Mrs. Ohtori, his position as chairman, his Pied Piper charm over the students) that is necessary to keep his ambitions is Anthy. Her magic aids protects him. She uses it to lead the chosen duelist to the final round. Utena is athletic, but not a swordsman, Anthy or the power of Dios is always there to intervene on her behalf against the actually trained fighters of the student council. Anthy's relationship to her fiancee itself is another tool for Akio, as it puts her in the perfect position to deliver the actual killing blow.

Akio is only powerful because he controls Anthy. If Akio were to take the power, the burden, for himself and away from Anthy he would have to bare the consequences of that power himself. His position is only comfortable if Anthy is there to do all the work. Akio is a projector, Anthy is a Witch. What better way to trap a witch than in a prison of their own making? After all, a prince can't defeat a witch and a king can only control those who believe they hold power; what better deterrent to rebellion than a witch? What better leash than providing the only visible path to the vulnerable? To have the witch cut down those who would act as her own saviors?

All reward, no drawbacks for his majesty the king.

How does the control break? The witch no longer believes in the king, her savior isn't a savior but a person-not a prince-willing to reach out and understand her pain. Utena instills Anthy with belief in herself, not a prince or king or god. Anthy always had the power to leave, Akio only kept her in illusionary shackles of her own creation. What can a dead prince do from a coffin? A king of the dead to the living?

The duels were never about achieving the power to revolutionize the world. Akio was already revolutionized by the death of Dios. The duels were the means in which Akio could expose the harsh, unreliable, weakness of any who Anthy might hope to extend her hand to. Utena held Anthy's hand for an instant, but that second was all it took for Anthy. Someone broke the seal, touched her without intent to due harm, and gave her relief from hatred. Something that Akio, the King of the Coffin they live in, could never do.

#utena #revolutionary girl utena #rgu #utena tenjou #anthy himemiya #akio ohtori #akio ohtori can go right to hell #i'm sorry this is so long #this is rambly and probably unreadable #but i wanted to get it done #akio is such an interesting character and i hate him #dios isn't free of blame #but he was a kid #i'll get to dios one day

[ivefallenfordemonsandicantgetup]

This post is about lesson 15 of the original obey me game;

If you are new to the game, please proceed with caution in regards to spoilers. This is also a long ass post. Sorry.

I should also preface this by saying I've written this sort of in the order of the way I came to my conclusion, so I understand it'll sound a bit like I've talked myself in a circle at one point.

-

-

-

OK. So I'm playing through lesson 15, and in 15-7, we get from Lucifer the real story of what became of lilith. Now, it goes without much saying that the entire situation of the great celestial war and Lilith's not-quite death has put an incredible strain on the brothers as a family. But there are other, more background parts of this that are...... Maybe a bit odd an confusing on a second play though.

Allow me to elaborate.

-------

Prior to 15-7, the brothers all chime in about how much Belphegor loved humans. Well, all except Satan, but I'm getting to him. The thing that struck me the most was what Leviathan had to say;

*What time period did this all occur in??*

No seriously, for real. He talks about it like humans were at current, modern day levels of function and doing modern day shit. According to Google, the oldest known anime that still exists was made in 1917. And I'm of no religious background nor can Google give me a straight answer, but the fall according to real life was well before 1917.

Oh and I am *not* going to gloss over the fact that this disaster demon has been an Otaku since, like, "birth". Does Solmare really intend to look us in the eyes and expect us to belive, without ever showing us a serious side of him, that Diavolo saw Leviathan and was like "Yup, hand this man a navy!". #GrandAdmiralLeviathan, please and thank you.

-------

On to my next topic; Satan.

In lessons 9 - 12, we go through the whole body swap situation, where we discover (to some extent) how Satan came to be and learn more about the troubled dynamics between him and Lucifer.

It is because of the, shall we say, interesting way Satan came about, that there is room for debate about how integrated the two were with each other prior to the fall. And with 15-7, now to comes into question *when exactly* did Satan come forth?

I ask, because of this;

The body swap seems to give the impression that Satan began life almost as soon as the fall occurred, and yet here we see the younger demon has no idea what's being referenced. I see a few potential problems with this. One, being that we know from Satan himself that though he was no longer part of Lucifer, he retained the emotions felt for Lilith. How could the feeling of wanting so badly to save her and being successful by making that deal not have also been given to him? Should that not be the nagging voice in the back of his head saying something to him in this moment? I find it hard to believe that in all he inherited from Lucifer, that this didn't somehow pass on to him. Because if it didn't, and is was the most recent, most raw moment of emotion, then how has he retained any of it at all?

And this brings me to wonder just how 'conscious' Satan was while part of Lucifer. There seems to be plenty of general agreement that he was 'present' enough to know what was going on at any given point, but it's a headcanon at best Quick correction brought to you by the wiki, stating that Satan's memories of certain people are 'through Lucifer's eyes'. Thus far and to my best memory of my previous play through, it's not disclosed if Lucifer was even aware of Satan before he manifested.

But back to the timeline, I'd like to throw out another spoiler alert for the Devilgram "The search for the self", but keep in mind I'm only reading off the wiki as I don't currently have the card.

It's stated the Satan did not emerge until after Lucifer had torn away his wings my poor husbando, but in Lucifer's flash backs, he still had his wings. Granted, 4. Lucifer's own wiki page states that the removal of his wings happened *before* his deal with Diavolo. The question then becomes, if we take his 4 wings at face value, and the Devilgram as well as wiki into account, should Satan not have been here for the moment Lucifer made the deal to save Lilith?

The only reason Satan would have for not knowing at this point, was if he'd run off the moment he stabilized. And there's *no way* Diavolo would have let a freshly born and rightfully angry Satan terrorize his kingdom. So even if he had run away, either Diavolo or Barbatos would have caught him and he *still* would have been present by proxy of being freshly captured.

Satan not knowing about Lilith doesn't make sense, and I'm dying on this hill rn.

#obey me #obey me! lucifer #obey me! leviathan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! mammon #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! satan #obey me! belphegor #obey me! diavolo #I don't know how to do spoiler cuts #Whoops #I'm sorry this is so long #Or at least long for me #But I just played through this part and it's bugging me #Satan should have already known #It's a continuity error #I'm dying on this hill

[86-was-his-year]

Sing me to Sleep - Eddie Munson (1)

Chapter One: The Start

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 10.3k

Series Summary: A look back at season 4, a fix-it-fic, if you will. 

Chapter Summary: You go with the gang to find Eddie and when you do, you can’t contain your relief. 

Warnings: Mentions of death, Season 4 spoilers like a lot, brief violence, swearing, drug use, making out, grinding (sort of), mentions of grief, Eddie Munson

A/N: I’m back to posting because the Eddie brain rot it real. I will be going through each episode and throwing the reader in there because I can and I want to pretend that Vol. 2 didn’t happen. More chapters to come! Sorry for any grammar mistakes, been though it three times but I’m stupid :)

It had been weeks since you moved to Hawkins, Indiana. The small town offering nothing but trees, trees, and maybe a field or two. It was by far the most boring place you’ve ever been. After living in the city there wasn’t much competition, the cracked sideways and roads are nothing like the smooth pavement you had back in Chicago, and the stores were unlike anything you’ve ever seen. When your mom drove you into town she decided to show you around Main Street first, the place where everything was or where everyone went to hang out.

The leaves were turning red and brown, giving way to fall which you decided was pretty, in the city you never got see the leaves fall unless you went to a park, which you tended to stay away from. She was showing you everything Hawkins had to offer, which wasn’t saying much.  The clothes in the shop windows were months, if not years behind, and most shops were mundane only ranging from general supplies, the Radio Shack, and some grocery stores that looked at least a hundred years old. There was a movie theater though, and it seemed to be up to date considering they had Back to the Future, a recent release that did super well over the summer. Your heart dropped as you watched groups of friends walk around the town, bags in hand with some sort of drink. You knew that you wouldn’t fit in, you knew you were too different form anybody here.

You remember the first day of school, walking blocks and waking up at 5:30 to be able to make it to school on time. It was cold in the morning and your feet already hurt from tripping over cracks and potholes on the way, so many that it had to be some sort of safety hazard.   Hawkins High was the closest and best choice at the time, but as you walked into the cracked parking lot you knew you were in for Hell. All of the people there were dressed we clothes that would’ve gone out of style months ago if you were back in Chicago, and they looked like most boring people you could ever talk to. Watching people flirt with each other even on the first day could’ve made you toss your breakfast onto the pavement, if you had bothered to eat any.

It was as if nobody had ever had somebody new join the crowd, like everyone had been in Hawkins their whole lives and you were just a parasite. The looks were curious at first, then turned judgmental far faster than you hoped, looking at everything from your hair to the clothes that you chose. It was a black turtleneck sweater paired with a black skirt, white socks that stopped just below the knee covered by black sneakers. It wasn’t the pinnacle of fashion but it was your favorite outfit, and it sure didn’t disappoint. But even as you stood in front of each class, clutching books to your chest, to introduce yourself they stared, even as the teachers told them not to.

None of them listened.

It was October 31st, 1985 when you first met Eddie Munson. Walking out of someone’s stupid Halloween party after being hit on for the 100th time that night, all drunk frat boys who were too touchy and stunk like sweat. Her name was Tina or something and from the sound of it she had this party every year and every year more and more people showed up. It was cramped and the booze wasn’t even good but you stayed and got drunk, eventually choosing to hit the road after a group of boys voiced their interest in you, or rather the interest in fucking you. You had obviously said no and chose to grab a cup of something for the road, holding your heels in your hands as you stepped on rocks and other things.  

It wasn’t the best place to be, considering that even after a month you still had not one friend, unless you could count your Walkman. Heavy rock music played through your ears every time you weren’t in class to avoid the people who gawked at you still. People tried to come up and talk to you over the month but most of it was some stuff about whether you were dating anyone, or where you got my shoes from. These were indeed the most boring people you’d ever met.

You had heard of Eddie Munson, the freak or the Satanist depending on who you were asking. He was a legend around school, you’ve even been privileged to see one of his famous outbreaks in the lunchroom, jumping on the table to flip everyone the bird, screaming about how societal norms were bullshit. He turned around the whole cafeteria and you remember talking of your headphones for the first time since you got there . He put his ringed fingers down when he reached you and jumped from the table with a loud thud, his white high tops screeching against the floor as he caught his balance. His eyes were trained on yours and he didn’t speak, didn’t yell out to you or do a foul gesture like you expected him to. Only looked at you and smiled lightly, as if he was saying hello for the first time.

So, when he rides up next to you on Halloween it isn’t unexpected to see the same toothy grin that he shot you in cafeteria. He was sporting some thick black eyeliner under his brown doe eyes and dried blood was dripping from his lips, blood that you assumed, or rather hoped was fake. On top of his head was the piece that made everything come together, plastic devil horns sat in the mess of curly brown hair, catching the light of the street lamps above.

“Need a ride?” He asked and his voice hit you like a ton of bricks. It was sweet, unlike the gruffness that you had expected. Everyone said it was like a sneer, people going so far as to avoid speaking to him. But that was probably a product of him being the “freak”. You stopped on the side of the road and looked up at him, the window to his rusty van rolled down so he could lean over the passenger side and talk to you.

“Sure,” It was a gamble you were willing to take. Eddie Munson was most likely not a murderer, or someone who sacrificed pretty women to the devil like everyone said. There were plenty of people out there who do that, but he was not one of them. He smiled and opened the door for you, offering his hand to help you into the van. His hands were soft and you remembering not wanted to let go of them.

“So, where to?” He asked and you smiled, buckling your seat belt before giving him the address. His van was unlike anything you’ve ever been in before. Dice and a small apri of handcuffs dangle from the rear view mirror, car freshers also taking a spot ext to them. There’s strips of duck tape on the dash, you didn’t need to ask to figure out that he had broken something and tried to fix it. And when you take a glance at the back of the van you find pillows, blankets, and a literal bucket of trash.

He’d played Metallica and Black Sabbath the whole way home and at the last minute, deciding that he was someone that you wanted to know, you asked him to take you to a nearby park. He parked the car and you both went to the swings, you sitting on the seat while he pushed you. You both talked about anything and everything, what your family life was like and what your favorite colors were. You had even told him about how your father had abused your mother, something about him just screamed that he would listen, and he did. He pushed you while you talked about all the times your mom and dad would throw things at each other, or at the walls next to each other. Or about the words that they spit at each other, all while you were blasting your music in the next room over, anything to drown out the sound of the fighting. It ever worked.

He drove you back home and said that he wouldn’t tell a soul. It made you smile because for some reason you believed him. He had his Hellfire club and he could obviously go and blab all about the new girls secrets but when you walked onto the lunch room the next day, all he did was wink and give you that toothy grin before going back to talk to his friends.

Now, it seemed pointless to think about it, about all the times that you hung out after that, all the times that you went over to his house to help with his homework. You even remember Wayne telling you that you’re welcome anytime you want, which surprised even Eddie because according to him, Wayne didn’t like anyone. You remember the guitar pick necklace that he put into pretty bag for you on Christmas, saying that it was his favorite pic for his favorite girl.

“Ms. y/l/n,” Officer Powells, voice cuts through your memories, snapping you out of that happy place in your mind. “when was the last time you saw Eddie Munson?” Right, Eddie was wanted for murder.

“He didn’t do it.” You say calmly, thinking about what you saw when Wayne called you over the his trailer that morning. He had confided in you first, wanting to ask when Eddie had dropped you off at home. It was an awkward ride to say the least, especially when you opened the door to find Chrissy Cunningham sitting in the backseat of his van.

“We’re not saying that he did, we just want to know when the last time you saw him was.” His voice is calm but you know he’s anything but calm. The state of the body was unlike anything you’d ever seen. And that’s saying something coming from a girl who used to live in the city. Thinking about the bruised skin, her missing eyes, and the bones that were snapped like toothpicks made you cringe, imagining the kind of pain she must have been in.

“No, but you think he did. Who put you up to this? Jason Carver, any of those little shits who think he worships that devil on the weekends? Yeah, he didn’t do this.” You say firmly and hunch down in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “He dropped me off after Hellfire club on yesterday. That was the last time I saw him.”

“And was Chrissy with him?”

The rest of the questioning went on. Questions like ‘Has he ever laid a hand on you?’

‘Has he said things that made him sound like he as planning something like this?’

‘Did he ever mention Ms. Cunningham to you?’

The were all stupid questions about things that he would have never said or done. Your stomach twists as you think back to Chrissy’s body, the way everything was contorted, her eyes pulled out of her head like something out of a horror movie. You’d heard the rumors that Hawkins was cursed but surely something like this doesn’t happen everyday.

They let you leave, the cops figuring that you didn’t now anything or were just trying to protect your friend. You can see Wayne from where you stand, his head in his hands while he sat on his front steps, cops stepping around him to take pictures and gather evidence. You feel bad for him, he loves Eddie and watching him go through this was probably tearing him up inside.

“Are you alright?” You turn at the sound of Dustin Henderson’s voice. You almost let out a sigh of relief, throwing your hands around the boys shoulders before pulling him in for a hug.

“Please tell me that you don’t think Eddie did this.” You almost beg, opening your eyes to find a redheaded girl that you don’t know.

“I know he didn’t do this.” Dustin says and lets go of your middle, gesturing back to the girl behind him. “This is Max.”

“Nice to meet you.” She nods, looking back over to the crime scene watching as the cops wheel out Chrissy’s body.

“We need to speak with you.” Dustin says and you nod, ushering both of them to your car.

“What’s this about? I don’t know where Eddie is, if that’s what you’re wondering.” The drive was quiet until you spoke, sensing the tension in the air. Dustin and Max look at each other, a look of defeat washing over their faces.

“Do you know where he might be. We’re trying to find him.” Dustin says and looks at you, his eyes pleading.

“I’m not turning him in. He didn’t do this and as far as I’m concerned he needs to stay hidden. Even from us.” You say and follow Dustin’s direction, turning right as if going to the arcade in town.

“We know he didn’t do it,” Dustin insists, looking back at Max and out of the rear view mirror you see her nod, “We think we know what happened to Chrissy but we need to hear it from Eddie, we need to know what happened.” He says and you look at him, studying his features before turning back to the road.

“Who did this?”

“We can tell you when we find Eddie, no use putting you in danger if it’s a dead end.” Dustin says and points his finger to Family Video, a small store right next to the Arcade.

“Is Eddie in danger? You think he saw whoever did this?” You ask again, trying to pry answers from the boy, only getting silence in return.

“Wait here, we’ll be out soon.” Max says and smiles at you, sensing the urgency of the situation you keep your mouth shut and nod. You turn up the tape that Eddie made for you, drowning your sadness in the beautiful guitar notes that start up Heaven and Hell by Black Sabbath. He gave you the tape along with the guitar pic necklace, the necklace now clutched between your fingers. It almost doesn’t feel real, the fear spiking in your stomach, fear of the fact that Eddie could be caught and charged for a murder he didn’t commit.

“Ditch your car, we’re taking Steve’s.” Dustin announces through the open window. Your fingers are clutched on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the pressure. You look up to see Robin and you guess Steve, the guy with the fluffy hair lock the door to family video and wave you over to a brown car. You roll up your windows and take a deep breath, ridding yourself of the tightness in your chest. You pop the tape out of the deck and stick it in your pocket, choosing to bring it along with you.

“I’m gonna have to squeeze between you and Max?” You ask and turn off the ignition, pocketing your keys before locking the doors.

“I don’t bite.” Dustin says and offers you a grin, not putting your mind at ease at all.

The back of Steve’s car is clean but cramped. They had to fill you in, each of them stopping to let the other tall another bit of information. It felt weird, all of them seemed to know each other quite well, being comfortable enough to let the other interject at any point. You are the odd one out, again. It made you feel weird and you know that if Eddie were somehow in the car with you it would’ve been a hundred times better. The pit in your stomach at the feeling of not belonging wouldn’t be there, he would make sure of it.

You were on the way to Reefer Rick’s, someone that you had only smoked with a couple times, being that Eddie got his drugs from him before he was arrested. When they explained that Eddie might be at Rick’s house you could’ve kicked yourself, of course he would hide there, no one was supposed to be there so nobody would come knocking. Conveniently, it was in the middle of nowhere, right off of Lovers Lake.

During the quiet car ride you couldn’t help but think about all the times you’ve been to Lovers Lake with Eddie. Before it froze up for the Winter, he took you there to sit on the dock and smoke your first blunt. It was fun to say the least, the sky was clear of any clouds and Eddie brought blankets so all you did was smoke and look up at the sky. You wanted to tell him that you loved him. That you had known him for less than a month, but you had fallen for him anyway. He knew more about you than anybody did in your entire life, including your mother and especially more than your asshole of a father.

The deep pit in your chest hasn’t gone away since this morning, when you walked into Eddie’s trailer to find Chrissy. You know that he didn’t do it but it wouldn’t stop this town from looking for him. Sometimes you curse Eddie, being the obnoxious and strange boy that he is. He could’ve avoided all this if he didn’t listen to heavy music or play D&D, but that was who Eddie was, it was one of the reasons that you fell for him so quickly.

He was distinctly different from anyone you’ve ever met.

The day faded away into the cold brisk air of night, taking almost forever to get to Ricks home. It looks empty, the mailbox was dusted, as if it hadn’t been touched in ages and none of the lights were on inside.

Dustin goes forth and rings the doorbell, doing everything in his power to scream who we were looking for. He wouldn’t give up, knocking on the door and screaming that we only wanted to help, which was true. While Steve disapprovingly watches Dustin create a spectacle you look around the side of the house, looking in all the windows to see if you cn catch any sight of him, any flash of curly brown hair or his famous denim vest.

It’s useless, everything is off, broken, or dirty. There are bongs and beer bottles everywhere, apparently Reefer Rick didn’t have time to clean up his place before they locked him up. You can only imagine the kinds of animals or bugs that are now living in  there. It’s seems useless on the surface but there is something in the back of your mind telling you that he is here, a feeling in your gut pulling you here. Maybe it’s blind hope and you try to convince yourself that he might not be here, as upsetting as that would be.

“Hey guys!” Max’s voice is distant from the other side of the house, but it sounds urgent, as if she had spotted him. Not even a second goes by before you sprint around the house, finding them all looking towards the old shed that Rick and Eddie sometimes smoked it. It has boats, spiders, and rats but it would be a perfect place to hide. You don’t  wait for anyone to say anything before pushing past them.

“Hey, wait for us.” Steve’s desperate voice echoes from the back but you are determined. There is this invisible line pulling you to that boathouse, something that tells you he can be in there. Your stomach is lurching as you look through the windows, searching for any signs of life. They are covered in dust and spiderwebs but you peer into them, waiting for the rest of the gang to catch up.

“He could be in here. We used to smoke with Rick in here before he got arrested.” You say, turning back to the group as they catch up with you.

“You know Reefer Rick?” Robin’s amusement wasn’t hidden and you smile, looking at all their stunned faces. Even Dustin looked shocked.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”  

The door creaks as Robin opens it, digging her flashlight through the crack in the door just in case someone or something is in here, waiting to attack us. You are last in, making sure to let the door shut behind you. You look around, the pulling feeling in your gut stronger than ever. There is dusty old boat parts and boxes for storage but as you turn you see something that doesn’t belong. Your heart speeds up and the lump in your throat that’s been there since this morning gets larger, almost becoming unbearable.

“Guys,” You start quietly, getting Dustin and Steve to stop bickering while Steve stoves a paddle in one of the boats. You swallow before continuing, “this is Eddie’s favorite beer, and his favorite candy.” You finish, smiling as you rifle through the trash on a forgotten box.

“Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran.” Robin offers, looking over your shoulder as you look over everything.

“Well, if he did run at least we know he was here.” You smile, relief chipping away at part of the heavy pit in your chest.

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin jokes, and you turn around to find Steve still poking the blue tarp with on of the boat oars. It’s a funny sight, the graduated adult afraid to take the tarp off to see if Eddie is under it.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were scared of little ol’ Eddie.” You say, pointing the flashlight at his face, to which he groans and shoots his hands up.

“I know you guys think you’re being funny but considering that most of us has nearly died about a hundred times personally, I don’t think it’s funny. And as for you,” Steve looks at you but before he can get a word out to insult you or something else, the tarp shoots up and blocks your vision.

There is screaming and shouting but as soon as you push the tarp away from your face, your stomach drops and tears fill your eyes. You are frozen, whether it be from relief or something else, you can’t move. Eddie has his back to you, holding something up to Steve while the rest of the gang tries to get Eddie to back off. Words fail you and you know that you should be helping them get Eddie away from Steve. But seeing Eddie living and breathing makes your brain short circuit, as if you already convinced yourself that whatever got Chrissy got him as well.

“Eddie! Stop! It’s me Dustin, this is Steve. He’s not going to hurt you, right, Steve?” Steve whispers something in agreement and you find yourself moving towards the end of the boat, where everyone else is. “Drop the oar Steve.” Dustin coaxes and you finally make your way over, gripping the back of Robins arm while you look at Eddie. She grabs your hand and squeezes, knowing how you must feel right now.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him so scared. Sure, you’ve been to plenty of scary movies together but that was nothing compared to the look on his face now. Steve drops the oar, it landing on the ground with a ‘thud’ and you finally see what’s in Eddie’s hand. A broken beer bottle is put up against Steve’s neck, digging into the delicate flesh there.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks sharply and his shaky voice is enough for you to get out of your trance to answer,

“We were looking for you.” You answer and you can physically see the way his body locks up at the sound of your delicate voice.

“We’re here to help.” Robin adds but as soon as Eddie hears your voice he turns to look at the group. You emerge from behind Robin and bring your hand up in a wave, an awkward gesture that makes you internally cringe.

“These are my friends.” Dustin begins to say but everything is quiet, pleading about how everyone is cool while introducing Max and Robin. Even then, Eddie’s eyes are set on yours and when you give him the smallest smile he drops the bottle and runs to you, nearly knocking over Robin in the process.

“Maybe we should’ve just asked her to go first.” Max says from next to you but you don’t care to retort back. Eddie’s arms are around you and you can’t think of a time anything felt better.

“Did anything hurt you? Anybody attack you?” He asks and pulls away to check over your body, putting his hands on your cheeks while moving your head around. You can feel the group looking and it makes your face heat up in embarrassment, remembering that Eddie is supposed to be your best friend. Last time you checked, best friends don’t hug and hold each others faces tenderly.

“I should be asking you that.” You say and you can’t help as the tears run down your face. When he’s done looking at your exposed arms and legs he looks at your face, brushing the tears that fall from your eyes with his soft thumbs. His hands are shaking on your skin and soon you notice that his whole body is shaking, his shoulders locked up even as he looks at you.

“We just want to talk.” You say and grab his wrists, pulling them from your face and leading him to a box sitting on the floor. Robin and Max are busy tending to Steve, who is shaken up after nearly being attacked but Dustin is next to you, hand on your shoulder while you ease him down onto the box.

“We want to know what happened.” You explain and take your hands away from him, putting them at your sides before you sit on the floor in front of him.

“You won’t believe me.” He says confidently, but his voice is still shaking, he’s still shaking. It can;t be from the cold, this Spring being a hot one so you can only guess that his body is still not settled. The adrenaline pumping in his veins means he was still probably on fight or flight mode, explaining the attack with the beer bottle.

“Try us,”

He looks scared almost, like we won’t believe his story but when I put my hand on his and nod he takes a deep breath. Even the breath isn’t enough to steady him but you hold onto his hand and rub small circles onto his skin while he manages to speak words.

“Chrissy had stopped me in the hallway and asked to buy from me,” He starts and everyone starts to object, until you put up your hand, “trust me I was surprised too. But she asked,  so I met her in the woods behind the football field and she seemed so scared, like something had spooked her before I had got there. I mean, she ran right into me, man. She asked if I had anything stronger than the weed I had offered her. I mean, of course I did so after the game and after Y/N and I finished cleaning up after Hellfire I took her to my place.” He says and you nod.

“That’s why she was in your van. I thought you guys were going on a date.” You laugh and shake your head. You were worrying about nothing, but now you had something much worse to worry about.

“You, Eddie Munson, on a date with Chrissy Cunningham? Don’t make me laugh.” Steve said and you all turn to him, giving him a look that would make even the stupidest person shut up. Which he did, looking around the boathouse to avoid our stares.

“Anyhow,” Eddie shot Steve a look and continued, “I was going to sell her the Special K, something that would give her some peace. Peace is all she wanted, something was going on, I don’t know what but she was so frazzled and was asking how long it took to kick in, as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of what was actually happening.” He continued and my heart dropped.

“Did- Did you give her too much?” You said, your voice barely going above a whisper. If Eddie caused Chrissy to overdose then he would be responsible for Chrissy’s death. The horror of that situation weighs on you in the split second that it crosses your mind.

“No, no, God no.” He said and shook his head, his hair swinging back and forth. “I told her that she should try and to smoke first, see how she liked it but she refused only wanting to pay for something that would make her really high. But, I’d misplaced it, and when I found it I came out and she was in this trance state. Her eyes were in the back of her head… and no matter how hard I tired, she wouldn’t wake up. And then her body just, like, lifted up into the air and just, like, hung there. In the air.” He started shaking harder, the memories of the event coming back, like he’s watching everything all over again.

“It’s alright.” You encourage, squeezing his hand for him to continue.

“Her… her bones,” His whimpers came through his clenched teeth, tears welling into his eyes. “her bones started to snap. Her eyes man, it… it was like there was something, like, inside of her head, pulling. I… didn’t know what to do, so I,” He pauses like he realized what went wrong, “I ran away. I left her there.” He finishes and looks down at his shoes, afraid to look at our stares.

You’d never known Eddie to be a liar, even in the toughest of situations, even when he really wants to lie, he always tells the truth. Always. But this is insane, nobody just floats into the air and their bones certainly don’t just snap in several different places. You remember seeing Chrissy’s body, it was in the middle of the floor, like it just dropped. And her arms and legs, even her fingers were twisted up behind her back and under her body.

“You think I’m crazy, right?” He scoffs and looks at the group, shaking his head at the looks of pity of their faces.

“No, we don’t think you’re crazy.” Dustin says quickly, trying to tell Eddie that all of you are here to listen and believe him.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!” He pinches the corner of his eyes as tears threaten to spill out, turning so that he can compose himself.

“We’re not bullshiting you.” Max assures, trying her best to convince him.

“We believe you.” Robin adds, leaning forward from her seated position. All of them have some knowledge that you don’t, they all know something about what caused this, or have some idea. You don’t need to know what they know to be sure that Eddie is telling the truth.

“I believe you.” You say lightly, squeezing his hand once more, to reassure him. It seems that you believing him is all he needs to finally take a breath.

“Listen, what I’m about to tell you might be… a little hard to take.” Dustin takes a breath, waiting for you both to respond. When you both sit quietly he continues, “You know how people say that Hawkins is cursed? They’re not… way off.”

Dustin’s long winded explanation has you confused. You moved here months ago but you knew that bad things happened in Hawkins before you got here. It’s one of the trademark reasons that this town is so small. Nobody really moved to Hawkins unless they actually had to, the houses were cheap and the apartments were even cheaper. Before you moved you decided to do some digging, finding out that there was a boy who went missing along with another high school girl. The boy came back but the girl never found, presumed dead, killed by some toxic materiel from some lab. And in 1985, the summer before you got here there was a giant mall fire, killing many high school students and adults, the police chief among the people that died trying to get people out.

“You’re saying that everything that happened, everyone who died was all because of some inter dimensional monsters traveled through a gate, that a secret government lab in  and killed a bunch of people?” You ask, now sitting between Eddie’s legs while he plays with your hair, a familiar position.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Dustin says while standing up, stretching his muscles as if what he told us wasn’t something out of a fairy tale. As if he believes it with every fiber being and for that reason you start to believe it to.

“We’ll be back in the morning, we’ll get you some food and we’ll  figure out where to go from here.” Steve says, and you’re surprised to hear him speak, being quiet the entire time Dustin was speaking. You suppose that’s also why you believe him,  none of the others tried to stop him from speaking, they didn’t try to interject with details that Dustin might have missed.

“Don’t let anyone follow you on the way out. They’ll come straight for Eddie.” You instruct, your head leaning onto his leg, your eyes closing.

“You’re not coming with us?” Robin asks and looks at you with a confused expression on her face.

“No, I’ll stay and make sure no one comes looking for him.” You open your eyes and get up, using Eddie’s leg to hoist yourself off the dusty floor.

“Keep yourselves hidden and don’t leave unless you have to.” Steve instructs and you nod, letting him know that you’ll be as safe as possible. You usher the others out and shut the door, checking outside to make sure that everything was clear. You shut the light off above the door and shut it tight, making sure you heard a click before turning back to Eddie.

He looks at you knowingly, standing up from the box to hold his arms out. Tears appear in your eyes once again, at the fact that he’s alive, at the fact that he’s untouched by the monster that did this. His arms are warm around your body and as you bury your head in his chest you let tears fall, wetting his Hellfire t-shirt. His hand is on the back of your head and his chin rests on the top of yours. His breathing and beating heart is the only thing that really calms you down. You let yourself cry as much as you need now that Dustin and the rest of the gang aren’t here to judge you, to wait for you to stop crying so they can get a word out.

“I thought you were dead.” You explain, putting your forehead on his chest. The words you’ve been dying to say fall from your tongue and the deep pain in your throat only gets bigger.

“I’m sorry.” He says simply, the only reassurance that he could offer. The relief of hearing his voice is infinite and you don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling it when you hear his voice. Having to think about not having to hear it again makes a new wave of grief wash over you, grief that has no merit.

“Why didn’t you come straight to me?” You pull from his arms and shove him, your face contorted with concern. He doesn’t move an inch and his arms drop from you, crossing over his chest instead.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t want you getting involved.” He answers and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. He cared about you enough to leave you out of it.

“You could’ve found someway to tell me where you were, or what had happened. Wayne called me this morning and when I saw Chrissy,” The words stop in your throat, the image of Eddie contorted like that making it’s way into your head, “I thought you were out there, like that.” You say and put your hands up to your face, wiping the new tears that flow down your face.

“Well, I’m not.” He says and puts his hands on your shoulders, shaking you the tiniest bit to get you to look at him. His brown eyes bore into yours and he gives you the most reassuring glance that he can.

“But you’re wanted for murder.” You argue, putting your hand on one of his, the feeling of his soft hands easing your mind.

“That’s easy, I’ll just tell them ‘Officers she made me do it’. They’ll believe me and just lock you up instead.” He smiles when you shove him again, this time actually getting him to move. You have a feeling that he did that all on his own though.

“You’ll never catch me alive.” You threatened, wiping the tears from your eyes at the appearance of the old Eddie. The Eddie that wasn’t worried about going to jail. The Eddie that only had to worry about school bullies and taking the right way to his classroom.

“I think it would be quite easy. You forget that I took gym class with you.” He explains and mocks you by going your pitiful jog.

“Hey! They couldn’t fail me in that class so why the fuck would I try?” You explain and laugh, finally feeling that pit in your stomach leave. Eddie was a menace in gym class, always trying to get you to run faster with him, or always pelting you with a dodge ball when you were on separate teams, even when you were on the same team. The best part about gym was that, per regulation, he had to tie up his hair. Everyday he’d come in with a low bun or a ponytail, tied up by one of your scrunchies that he found laying around his room.

“You know you’re my best friend right?” He asks and you smile, nodding as you look him up and down. He’s standing across from her hugging his arms close to his body with a small smile on his face. The picture of your version of perfection standing less than five feet from you. You have to change the subject, nodding before looking out the dust-covered window.

“Want to see what Reefer Rick left behind?” You ask and squint your eyes, feeling mischievous, Eddie squinting his eyes back as if he knows what you’re suggesting.

“Everything is locked up tight. I already tried, trust me.” He says and leans against the dusty wall, crossing his arms.

“Good thing I have a key.” You smile and pull out the bobby-pin from your pocket.

.

Getting into Rick’s house was fun, going to the back door to pick the lock, Eddie holding the flashlight over your head while checking to see if anyone was looking in at us. He was annoying to say the least, pushing your hand so you hit the wrong prong, having to start all over. It was fun, going back to our normal selves in the midst of all this shit. Soon enough the door knob clicked and you kicked it open, frowning at the smell of dust and mildew growing on every surface of the house.

“Well, it smells like shit.” Eddie says before pushing past you, his hand on your lower back as he scoots in beside you. Your heart skipped a beat and you choose to ignore it, frozen in place before snapping out of it.

“Yeah, it really does. But it’s better than that stupid boathouse.” You say and shut the door behind you, going straight to the kitchen to look for something to eat. “When’s the last time you ate?” You ask, going through the messy cabinets to find anything edible.

“Friday at lunch.” He says wearily as if he already knows what you’re going to say. He comes next to you, his body warm against your own while he looks in the cabinets below.

“You only ate pretzels that day.” You say and look down at him, your hands on your hips as you frown. He looks up at you from his knees and something in your stomach flips, his smile, the dimples on his cheeks, and the way his eyes roam your legs before making his way to your face.

“Dungeon Masters don’t need food to survive,” He smirks and gets up from his knees, turning you so your backside is flush against the counter, “They survive off the blood and tears of their players.” His arms are trapping you where you stand and he’s smiling, tilting his head while moving closer.

“You’re not funny, Eddie. You need real food.” You push him off and turn your back to him, finding noodles and a jar of pasta sauce on the top shelf of the cabinet. Hopefully it was good to eat, even if it was a little expired you would probably make it and eat it, your stomach growling as you spot the food.

“I wouldn’t expect a mere mortal to know.” He says and his body pushes into yours, your back feeling everything on the front of his. You watch as his arm reaches for the food, his hair tickling your face as he leans forward.

“Thanks,” You say calmly but you’re anything but. Your cheeks are hot and there’s a sinking feeling in your lower stomach that won’t go away, it’s as if he lit a fire in you. You don’t move form your spot, gripping the counter till your knuckles are white from the pressure. Eddie is already milling around the kitchen, a pot in his hand, as if what he did wouldn’t make you absolutely crazy.

“Let the floodgates open.” He says under his breath and you turn to watch him fiddle with the tap, water coming out after a few seconds of sputtering. It should be gross but you remember that no one has been here for months, and the water runs clear before Eddie puts the pot under the stream.

“If there’s water you should go take a shower. I’ll wash your clothes and then we can eat something.” You say and usher him out of the way, skimming his hand as you take the pot from him.

“Yes, mom.” He says and holds his hands up, making his way to the first floor bathroom, the one with a small shower.

“Leave your clothes outside of the door. You’ll be smelling good in no time.” You smile and watch his retreating figure. The gas works too, the stove lighting up with a flame before you put the pot over it.

You do everything you need to, putting Eddie’s clothes in the washer for a speed wash before returning to the pot, finding that it’s already bubbling. The noodles go in and by the time they’re soft enough to take out, the washer beeps letting you know that they’re done and you leave the noodles in the strainer while you go put his clothes in the dryer. You make your way back up the steps of the basement, grimacing at the smell of the dark and moldy space. Who puts their washer and dryer downstairs? You almost scream when you see Eddie in the kitchen, tending to the noodles and sauce, stirring the pot to keep anything from burning.

“I found a pair of my old pants that Rick kept but no luck on a shirt.” Eddie stands there with a pair of red flannel pajama pants on, black socks, and his damp hair plastered to his back and forehead.

“That’s fine, your stuff should be done soon.” Your mouth runs dry as you look him up and down, the defined muscles of his back turned to you as he sets plates on the cleaned counter. He must’ve just come into the kitchen after you left it, cleaning the counter and finding plates.

It’s impossible to not run your eyes over his exposed skin, looking at the tattoos that range across his arms and back. They’re all tattoos that you remember approving, something that he insisted upon every time he was thinking about getting a new one. You told him he didn’t have to do that but he insisted, showing you the designs and placement, taking your criticism and working with you to figure out something that you both liked.

The small crush you had towards him only seemed to grow. When he asked you about one of his ideas for his campaign, or the time that you called him crying because your dad had showed up and he picked you up without question, or when he defended you in front of that asshole Jason. Jason had some vendetta against both you and Eddie, choosing everyday to try and make your life a living hell. You could recall the bruising on Eddie’s face and arms the next day when he picked you up for school. It wasn’t all in vain though, Jason had a split lip and his eye was swollen shut, even some of his buddies had injuries as I eyed them in the cafeteria.

“Let’s eat. I suppose you’re right, blood and tears isn’t enough to keep me satisfied.” He joked, recalling what he’d said about Dungeon Masters not needing to eat. He sets the plates on the counter and sits down on the tall stools. You just stand there and stare, watching him spin the pasta on his fork before taking a bite.

You could almost imagine the life you two would have together. Living in a house like this, cooking and cleaning together. When you thought about Eddie Munson one thing was always clear, he would never treat his partner like a housewife, the both of you would do everything together. It’s how it’s always been.

“Y/N?” Eddie drops his fork and stands up from the stool, his breath kicking up as he looks at you. You quickly snap out of it, looking at him with a small smile. You instantly feel bad, a trance like state was what he described when he told everyone what happened to Chrissy. He probably thought that you were the same way, worried that at any minute you’d start floating in the air.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say and walk over to the chair, sitting next to him while you both finish’s eating in silence.

When the food was eaten and the dishes rinsed you both decided to go on a mission. Eddie had gone down to get his hellfire shirt out of the dryer and you have been searching the house for any speck of weed. You both agreed that it would be stupid to smoke right now, but as you looked at each other you knew that you both didn’t care, the small smiles on your face enough to tell. Reefer Rick was infamous for hiding drugs around his place until it was sold or smoked. He was a genius at hiding things, under the wood of the sofa, in the pipe at the bottom of his sink, or even the light covers on the ceiling. Anywhere the cops wouldn’t find it.

“Found some!” Eddie shouts from the basement, his thumping steps ascending the stairs the next minute. He emerges from the dark room holding a bag, a bag almost filled to the brim with weed. Your excitement can’t be hidden as you pull out two bongs you find in a suitcase in one of the closets.

“If you would, Dungeon Master.” You tease, smiling as he takes the bongs in his hand. Watching Eddie grind up some weed and scoop in into the bongs is mesmerizing. Your favorite is when he rolls, watching his expert fingers tuck and roll the weed into place. He always rolls the best ones and just watching him do it gives you a high of your own.

“For you, M’lady.” He says in another funny voice and hands you the bong. It’s smaller than his but after smoking out of it with Rick, you know it packs a punch.

The house is smoky and you both are high as shit, laughing about anything and everything. The dark house is only lit up by the four small candles you brought out from the bathroom upstairs. Who knew Reefer Rick liked to take sensual bubble baths, the candles found on the edge of the bathtub.

The couch that you take up is comfortable, the cushions plush but worn from the people who sat in it before us. Your calves are thrown over his thighs, shoes forgotten on the kitchen floor after you ate your food. It’s sometime at night, late enough for no one but drunkards and hippie teens to be wondering the streets. Crickets chirp and you can hear the  waves hitting the shore in the distance. He’s warm under your legs and you close your eyes, sighing into the open air. You could be here forever, could let him rub your legs and sit in silence forever.

“Do you think you’ll be okay?” He asks you, rubbing his hands along the expanse of your legs, his thick rings catching on the folds of your pants.

“What do you mean?” You asked back, your head leaning back on the arm of the couch and your eyes still closed. His touch is calming, and you hope that he doesn’t stop anytime soon.

“When I go to jail or when Vecna catches up with me. I don’t see how this ends happily for me. But for you…” he trails off and you open your eyes, looking at him from across the couch. He looks concerned, not scared but sad. “You could marry someone nice, have kids and live in a nice house like this.” He looks at you to find that you’re already looking at him and for the millionth time, his heart squeezes at the sight of you. Your heart does flips at his words, you didn’t want to marry anybody else, didn’t want to date anybody else if it isn’t him. A life without Eddie isn’t one that you want to be living in, as stupid and cheesy as that sounds.

“I’m not marrying anybody. There’s nobody out there that could make me feel as good as you do, Eddie. Plus, you’re not going to jail, over my dead body.” You’re still laying limp on the couch but your words are ferocious and Eddie can tell that they’re true.

“I don’t know what you see in me. Never did.” He leans back against the couch, his body relaxing as yours is. He acts as if he didn’t pick you out first, choosing to pull to the side of the road to pick me up, and even going as far as to ask me if I was okay while looking down at my exposed feet. After walking for nearly 15 minutes the tights I was wearing that night all cut up from rocks and cracks on the road.

“You’re kind Eddie. Any person would be lucky to have you.” You smile and lightly shove him with your foot, trying to get him out of his self degrading mood. “Dustin thinks we’re going to get married.” You say after a while of silence. The curly haired boy had confided in you while you walked him home from Hellfire one night.

You’d only known Eddie and the group for about a month at the time, after you and Eddie spent the night at the dock of Lovers Lake. You’d just finished another campaign and just as you promised Eddie, the boys loved it, gobbling up every second of Eddie’s narration.

“Do you love Eddie?” The curly haired boy had asked after walking in silence for a while. The question had shocked you, causing you to flounder over your words as you tried to find the right thing to say.

“Why would you ask such a stupid question?” You laughed but when you looked down at Dustin’s face you knew he was dead serious. “No, I’m not in love with Eddie. I haven’t known him long enough for that.” You brushed off and kept walking, almost counting the steps till we were at his mailbox.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell him.” Dustin said smiling, his braces glinting in the moonlight. He turned into his driveway and waved as you looked at him in disbelief.

“Not in love with him!” You shouted as he walked into his house. He waved his hand towards you as he entered his house and shot you another smile before he shut the door.

“Would you marry me?” His question snaps you back to reality, the memory of you smiling while you walked home that day fading from your intoxicated brain. His question burns through you like fire to paper, making you choose your words carefully.

“Of course I would marry you! You’re my best friend, you were the only person in Hawkins who looked at me like a real person, not just a girl with secrets to tell. You know more than my own mother, Eddie. I can’t remember a time that I was genuinely happy without you there with me. I kinda feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life to find you.” You say, sighing at the sappy words coming out of your mouth, “Even at my old school, nobody ever got to know me and I know it sounds horribly cheesy but I don’t know where I’d be without you.” You finish and close your eyes, looking into the void behind your eyelids to avoid his gaze. Your mouth moved faster than your brain. Being high loosens your lips but you can’t bring in you to shut up anymore, the feelings in your chest are too strong to ignore anymore.

You definitely blame it on the weed.

“Probably not in the middle of this crazy shit.” He says and laughs but you can tell it isn’t an Eddie laugh, it’s laced with something deeper, something you’ve never heard from him before. It makes you swallow your fear, swallow the feeling that holding you back from being totally honest with him. The sound form him is pure hurt, pain, and longing, that’s what you would say it sounds like.

“I wouldn’t go through this for anyone else.” You admit and it’s quiet, your heart beat is the only thing you hear, and it’s slamming against your chest. Eddie would figure it out, the feelings that you’ve been trying to hide for months now. Of course you were nearly confessing while on drugs, it was the only time you let yourself ramble without caring.

“Y/N,” Eddie’s voice is soft and you feel him move on the couch, lifting your legs so he can fit underneath them, shifting closer. Your thighs are now on his and the room is getting hotter, whether it be from the weed or the close proximity to Eddie, you start to boil in your own clothes. “Will you look at me?”

His brown eyes are on yours when you lazily opened your own. His hand is now running along your thigh, lazy circles that calm your nerves almost instantly. His body is relaxed and when he starts leaning over you could’ve sworn that he’s falling asleep but he just moves closer and closer until you could feel his breath on your face, his nose nearly an inch from yours. Your hands at your sides twitch, longing to reach up and rake your fingers through his hair.

“What do you want Eds?” The nickname is new, the drugs in your system shortening your speech. He’s close, his nose now touching yours as if he never stopped moving in the first place. Your breathing speeds up and you almost can’t catch up, the air hitching in your throat as you feel how close he is. You’re closer than you’ve ever been before and your brain starts to short circuit, imagining all the things that you can do together.

“Want to kiss you.” He says with a soft smile, the skin of his nose brushing against your own, goosebumps erupting over each other’s skin. You think you imagine that he says it, not believing it until he speaks again, “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” He asks, his head tilting to just the right angle but he never moves forward, either teasing or waiting for you to give consent. The thought had you smiling. Most guys wouldn’t have even asked, just deciding that you wanted it and going in, messy kisses that usually had you gagging and pulling away before flipping them the bird and walking away from them.

“Yes, Eddie. You can kiss me.” You smile and lean forward, your lips ghosting over his, the soft skin making you shiver. Your stomach is doing flips, waiting gor him to lean forward and finally close the distance between you to. Butterflies that you didn’t know existed erupt in your stomach, making you giddy.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he smiles and leans in the rest of the way, his lips finding yours in the darkness. You close your eyes and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you fit your lips against his. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, every night that you thought about this doesn’t even compare to the feeling. The confidence that oozes from him as he moves against you, leading the kiss with unmatched experience.

He’s warm and his hand snakes around your waist to hold you closer, arching your back so your torsos are touching. Fireworks erupt in your body going from limb to limb, the feeling of his lips against yours causing something to awake in you. He groans and opens his mouth a sliver to let his tongue lick your bottom lip the muscles warm and wet, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You gasp and pull away, moving one of your arms from his shoulder to touch your lips, the skin tender to the touch. He pulls back and smiles, opening his eyes to look down at your flushed face. In the light of the candles you can see that his face is also red, and you almost feel proud that he’s just as flustered by you as you are by him.

“Sorry,” he offers and lays his head on your chest, his hair tickling your chin. You could barely breath, he’s so close to you, his arms around your back and his head on your chest. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Eddie?” You ask softly, getting his attention before he lifts his head up, looking over your flushed complexion.

“Yes?” His voice groggy and lazy, the effects of being high weighing on the both of you. Your heart is still pumping as you look at him. You truly look at him, the blush on his cheeks, the redness of his eyes, and the dull sharpness of his nose capture your attention until you remember to speak.

“Kiss me again?” You let out, your breath speeding up as he looks at you, a smirk on his face and a teasing glint in his eye. He leans up, pulling his hands from around you to hold himself up. Your hand falls from his neck to his arm, your palms sweaty with nerves.

“Anything for you, love.” He says and leans back in, his arms going around your body once more, but this time to pick you up, pulling you into his lap. He never breaks the kiss, moving both his lips and your body with scary accuracy. The display of his strength and his amazing multitasking shock you and you squeeze his arm, pulling the tiniest of whimpers out of you.

“Eddie,” you sigh against his lips before going back in, moving against his lips with matched ferocity. His lips are soft, as soft as you’d imagine them to be and you groan as he lifts your shirt and puts his hand against your lower back. The skin on skin contact almost drives you crazy and this time you let your tongue peak out against his lips, tasting the flesh there. You are both moving against each other, letting your body take over you as you move above him, the kiss fueling you to do far more than you thought you could do.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He groans and pulls away, his other hand coming to rest on your jaw, gently pushing you away from his lips. “We have to stop,” he says and smiles when you pout. It isn’t until you feel something poking against the back of your thighs that you understand why.

“Sorry,” you offer and move off of him, retreating from his warm hold to lay where you were before, letting your breath come back to you. The even roll back in your head and it takes longer than it should’ve to realize that you kissed Eddie Munson, the one person you’ve been crushing on for months.

“It’s okay. I mean it’s your fault, but I’ve already decided to forgive you.” He says and goes back to running circles along your thighs, a giant smile on his face while he looks at you.

“You’re such a sap.” You say smiling, the joy in your chest unmatched by anything you’ve ever felt before.

“I learned it from you.”

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #I'm sorry this is so long #I'm choosing to ignore volume 2 :) #eddie munson x female reader

[anitalianfrie]

Always happy to talk about it so ... what are we thinking for girl Vale? 👀

So. To me girl vale is very much one of the boys™. Girl who likes to race on motorbikes? Especially when she's young, like in elementary and middle school, all her friends are boys. I know that uccio/vale codependency really reminds middle school gay girl friendship, but I think that uccio would still be a boy. Because otherwise they would be they're own unit, and vale had loads of friends when he was young. So. I think they would have been those kids who like in kindergarten wanted to get married and then simply grew into a brother/sister (codependent) relationship. Uccio aside.

When vale is younger like, in 125cc and before, she's often confused with a boy because she's really tomboyish. She is naturally but also being in a male dominated field she kinda puts on a performance both in the paddock and at home (again. All her friends are boys. She tries to fit in). At this point everybody knows she's a lesbian. Not really, because she doesn't advertise it, but everybody knows she isn't interested in boys (they don't know she's interest in girls per se, but still).

Then she starts to win, smashing everyone and everything in her way, but of course everybody still underestimates her because she's a girl, of course she will never get to 500cc. (cue to vale reaching 500cc in two years). I don't know how her parents would take her having to leave school to race, she would probably have to argue a lot more that vale actually did, because 1) she's a woman 2) not even her parents believe completely she will make it.

But anyway once she gets to 500cc she's very much under the spotlight and she can't really do the same things she did before. She's expected to be masculine, hard racing and knowing the engines and the bike and being rough, but also feminine, a proper woman, dresses and makeup and mannerism, and she doesn't really know how to do that because she never did it before. Also on the sexuality side, on one hand she's expected to be a lesbian because woman in racing=lesbian, but on the other hand everybody asks her about boyfriends (even more than racing) because that's all a woman gets reduced to.

At first in 500cc everybody still underestimates her and while she fights with biaggi she's often openly hated by the media. But she's still charming and funny and enough masculine (and sexy, she has to start selling herself like that) to find support and a dedicated following. After she starts winning, it's over for everyone else. She's the new coming of jesus christ for Italy.

People start calling for her retirement when she goes to ducati (not everyone, but men often do. Fucking men) but she doesn't give a shit.

And then. Cue to Marc (Mar? Marcia? I haven't decided yet) entering the grid. After vale getting to motogp girls started to take interest more into racing, but the majority of them is too young to be competing yet at high level (cue to bez and cele). Marc is the second girl to ever get to motogp. She's the second coming of valentina. They get closer because they're always paired together etc etc and of course two raging lesbian in close proximity? They fuck. A lot. Marc is in love with vale. It's horrible and messy. Sepang it's 1000 times worse because vale thinks that Marc helping Jorge goes against the sacred pact of girls in motor racing and says so in the press conference and everybody hates her (especially women bc they call her a fake feminist (yay misogyny)).

Vale probably comes out after retirement and in my heart there's a rosquez reconciliation.

#I'm sorry this is so long #girl!vale #i have so many thoughts #c'è posta per me

[coldshrugs]

ship song inspiration

@grapecaseschoices tagged me to share some songs for my ships and i can’t resist lyrics so here we go! i can’t promise this will be one song per ship...

tagging with no pressure: @syrcus @magebastard @maharielhawke @thevikingwoman @roguelioness @rosarx @impossible-rat-babies @astraphone and anyone else that wants to gush about their ship playlists!

ephyra/veyer: finally // beautiful stranger - halsey

we're dancing in my living room and up come my fists and i say i'm only playing, but the truth is this: that i've never seen a mouth that i would kill to kiss and i'm terrified, but i can't resist and i said “beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms” and i know that beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong but i think it's finally safe for me to fall

ephyra/veyer: prosthetic love - typhoon

what i found was a gamble you threw yourself in with me, made a cross, and you lit a candle but we were only strangers cornered in a dark room projecting slides of cozy lives on the wall and in the light i thought i saw you or was it nothing at all? of everyone i ever knew, i’m giving it all to you and asking everything in return i have nothing left to lose, i’ll get it back through you i’ll take your offer

ephyra/aeran: strangers - colourway

i love you the same, but we're strangers now i love you the same, but we're strangers, now “you and i til' the end of time” is all we knew, and i say it's through i miss my friend, i miss her love, but we're strangers

io/zenos: killer + the sound - phoebe bridgers & noah gundersen

can the killer in me tame the fire in you? is there nothing left to do for us? i am sick of the chase but i'm hungry for blood and there's nothing i can do [...] nothing ever comes like it did when you were in it keeping nothing for yourself like a stone cold killer now you're passing your people like a ship in the night looking to every stranger for a fight

io/zenos: crooked ways - motion city soundtrack

we're married to the dark, all echoes of these ancient hearts we are daggers and knives and when the seasons change, we creep back to our crooked ways run if you think you can i believe we can both get what we need if they decide we are darkness worse than evil then they're not with us, they're against us

teddy/toasty: pareidolia - isaac lewis

i wanna see you in my hoodie on the walk home i'll be rosy red, but i will soon forget about the cold and let your words hold me down we can go to space and let the silence embrace us or we can still pretend like it's a game and a phase but all along, i wasn't wrong

alma/mason: sift - envy on the coast

i hung around your axis to watch your hips rotate your name fell out my mouth every single day then rusted nail in heel, blotted out dark eyes dirty chipped finger nails, unconventional grace i'll take you in the morning, on the blackest days i'll take you in the morning, if i had my way

alma/mason: it will come back - hozier

i know who i am when i'm alone i'm something else when i see you you don't understand, you should never know how easy you are to need don't let me in with with no intention to keep me jesus christ, don't be kind to me honey, don't feed me, i will come back

#i've tried to post this three times now and it keeps breaking the post editor #i'm sorry this is so long #but the playlists are out of control.... #music #tag games

[upon-the-waters]

Finding the Divine Daughter

Aka, I’ve finally come to the end of the spiritual tailspin I’ve been in since last October.

TL;DR (So many of my posts need these because I am a writer at heart, and I don’t want people getting annoyed at my paragraphs clogging up their feeds): I’m kind of obsessed with the way the Holy Spirit and the Christian perception of Divine Feminine has some parallels to the Mother and Daughter in Filianism. So I’m going to talk about it, with a lot of words. A LOT of words... You’ve been warned.

First off, in some Gnostic sects there’s the concept of Sophia’s daughter, Zoe. If Sophia is Divine Wisdom, Zoe is Divine Life. But yet, Zoe and Sophia are also two different ways of looking at the same entity-- a Mother and Daughter, that are also as One. A Gnostic interpretation of the Book of Genesis states that the Holy Mother Pistis Sophia sent forth the emanation of Herself, Her Daughter, Sophia Zoe. I’m going to make a quick clarification here, and that is that Sophia, or Lady Wisdom as spoken of in the Bible, and the Holy Spirit are the same entity. So already we have Sophia/Holy Spirit spoken of in Mother/Daughter terms. However, this is just within Gnosticism, and I personally have a lot of problems with Gnosticism (the amount of patriarchy still in it, but also its demonization of the material world, which I believe God created good). And while Zoe was the catalyst to the research that led me to discovering Filianism, to me the parallels don’t stop there.

Within the Bible, Sophia Herself is often characterized as a Daughter-figure, as She tells us in the book of Proverbs that She was birthed by YHWH before creation. Catholic tradition also equates Sophia with Mother Mary; I believe Valentin Tomberg in particular referred to the Divine Feminine as Maria-Sophia. To me, Maria-Sophia-- or Dea, to use the Filianic name-- is already pretty clearly Mother, so my research focuses primarily on finding Her Daughter aspect.

Sophia is also often equated with Shekinah, the Kabbalistic Jewish title for the Presence of God. According to the Northern Way website, where I first learned of Shekinah, She is the Mother, but I think it makes far more sense to see Her as the Daughter-- the immanence of God as opposed to the transcendence. Shekinah is also seen by some as the Bride of the male God, who was lost in the wilderness as a result of humanity’s fall from grace. However, there is an implication that this was actually voluntary on Her part, as she chose to remain with humanity and share in our sufferings-- much like the Holy Daughter. In fact, I’m almost positive the Janite website used to refer to Shekinah as a way of looking at the Holy Daughter, but I’m unable to find it after crawling through the Wayback Machine for a while... they do, however, call the Holy Daughter Zoe Sophia among other names! 

There is a very clear parallel between Shekinah and the Holy Spirit-- both of them are said to have descended down to us and given themselves to us. They are both said to be the Soul of the World, the spark of divinity present within creation.

St. Hildegard writes of two aspects of the Holy Spirit-- Sapientia and Caritas, Wisdom and Love. To make these names easier to pronounce, I translate them as Sophia and Charis. It is my belief that these two aspects of the Holy Spirit are the Celestial Mother and Holy Daughter aspects of Dea, the way She was seen by Hildegard and now by me. Sophia is the Creatrix, and Charis is the World Soul. Charis also means Life, not just Love-- I believe that Charis and Zoe are different names for this Daughter Holy Spirit, but I personally prefer Charis. St. Hildegard tells us that the Holy Spirit is both the sun and the moon. She is transcendent and immanent-- in Filianic terms, She is Mother and Daughter.

In the article I reblogged recently from the Chapel of Our Mother God, on Mary’s Immaculate Heart, Mary is equated to the Solar Mother. However, I believe that the Immaculate Heart shows Mary as both Mother and Daughter-- something the Chapel acknowledges when it discusses the Heart shown pierced by swords. Mary is also referred to as Queen of Heaven, which in Filianism is a title of the Daughter.

The Immaculate Heart is paralleled to the sun with its two fundamental qualities-- Warmth and Light. These two qualities correspond to the Divine Love and the Divine Wisdom, respectively, and are shown as the Immaculate Heart is both aflame with love and shining with wisdom. The Filianic Creed states that the Celestial Mother is Pure Light, and the Holy Daughter is Perfect Love. That is why, to me, Mary is the Holy Mother God, as well as the Daughter who suffered for us, intercedes for us, and brings us with Her to ascension as the Queen of Heaven, and parallels neatly with St. Hildegard’s writings of the Holy Spirit as Wisdom/Sophia and Love/Charis, my names for the Mother and Daughter Holy Spirit. Catholics are fond of saying that Mary is the Daughter of the Father and the Mother of the Son, and I like that (although I ultimately see the “Father” as genderless). However, they also call Her the Spouse of the Holy Spirit. To me, Mary is the Holy Spirit. St. Maximilian Kolbe basically says this as well, and that this is what the Immaculate Conception means. 

Finally: St. Therese, the saint I credit with sending me on this crazy crisis of faith last year? She once said of herself: “My call is love... In the heart of the church, my mother, I will be love, and thus I will be all things.” Is it a coincidence that she eventually led me to finding Charis, Holy Love, Holy Spirit, Holy Daughter? Maybe. But I really don’t think so.

#i'm sorry this is so long #seriously if you read this whole thing I'm immensely grateful to you putting up with my thoughts for as long as you did #unless you're my parents my best friend or one of my past English teachers you've never braved my essays before so congrats #christian goddess #Sophia #Charis #Maria #tess rambles #but a LOT this time

[wndybyrd]

❛ nobody tells me what to do. ❜

" go away. " what a silly thing for her to have said. no one told him what to do.

of course not. who would dare oppose the all-knowing king of the island ? he whose existence defied all logic and used this advantage to do as he pleased. he'd always do as he pleased, and wendy had always known this. in fact, she'd admired it about him. he was free from the constraints of responsibility that had tied her down in the other place, bound by the expectations of a mother, a father, a brother. she'd always thought that being with him freed her, too, but that would be too good to be true, and things that were 'too good to be true' only happened in her stories. sadly, this wasn't one of her stories, it was his. peter's island, peter's rules, peter's story.

now, even his expectations had begun to weigh heavy on the little girl. they made her curl in on herself, so tight that it felt like the sharp of her kneecaps would pierce right through her ribs. be pretty but be wild. be a mother but be a playmate. be mine be mine be mine. though the mar on her cheek had been quick to fade — only a hint of the red, crooked crescent left, fighting to prove its existence to anyone who bothered to look long enough — the words still stung, perplexing her. she had always been his. for four years, she'd been his. even after all the others had forgotten, abandoning neverland for the other place, she'd clung to his memory with a white-knuckled grip, keeping afloat under the waves of the other place's expectations in the hope he'd return. four years. and then he came. but he'd come for other girls first, leaving her to be plucked up last like some afterthought. four years it took him to return for her. four years too late. things had changed . . . wendy had changed.

" fine then, don't go away. stand there and enjoy your view of the back of my head. i wish to be alone, so, as long as you stay quiet and out of sight, i can at least pretend i am. " she did not dare look at him out of fear that her fickle heart would fail her. it was a terrible feeling, to love someone as much as you hated them. it was not some pure love, either. it was all-consuming, the kind that filled her up til she could feel nothing else. but, like the hate, it was terribly raw. the two waged a war inside wendy's heart that she was sure would destroy her, tearing her into little bits until there was nothing left of the darling girl.

" and if you ever touch me like that again, know that i'll cut you up good. be it with my nails or your knife. it was a mean thing to do. " he'd frightened and confused her that night, and never once apologized or explained for it. in fact, it was as if it hadn't happened at all. the worst part was the memories, things she'd long forgotten, teasing her mind with hints here and there. they'd give a taste and then, as quickly as they'd come, those inklings of moments from days past would recede back into the fog.

rocking back and forth atop the dewy grass, wendy wrapped the cecco's coat tight around herself like some shield — not to guard her against peter's stare but to conceal the uncontrollable mix of emotions rippling off of her. i am going to die here, she thought. the truth rattled in her skull, shook through her bones, slithered its way into her core being. a haunting feeling that'd gnawed at her since stepping foot back on neverland, warning her despite all the wonderment before her eyes, finally made itself clear : something was going to kill her, whether it be her uncontrollable heart, the whims of peter, or some other wickedness upon the island.

something was going to kill her. unless she killed it first.

#*PROMPT : answered. #i'm sorry this is so long #she's unraveling #it's not her fault .... she's just exhausted and stressed and angry #*PETER : promise to never forget me.

[twosides--samecoin]

hey! can I ask 13, 16, and 20 for the get to know your fic write meme? 😊

Yes, thank you very much :) Have an excellent day!

13. What's a common writing tip you almost always follow?

Common? Heck no, let's level up:

Watch your adverb use. Adverbs aren't all bad - there are several valid uses, however I encourage anyone writing fiction to look at adverbs modified with "-ly".

Example: She angrily rose from the table.

"Angrily" holds a scene back from happening. This is not a time to be short and sweet - it's an opportunity to show not tell. What can you tell your reader about the situation, the characters and the room where it happened, if you choose to describe what's going on? What is it like when your character gets up from the table in an angry fashion? What can you setup and payoff instead of using "angrily"?

Fix: The women in the room - shift dresses and pearls, another-Julep-please, coiffed hair and thin cigarettes - spent their afternoon gossiping as usual. Southern affect and saying anything but the quiet part out loud. Status quo, she remained quiet and contemplated the backyard garden through the french doors. A rectangle pane framed a chicken coop and she could hear its residents clucking as they pecked and walked around. She picked at a layer of itchy tulle, She didn't notice her mother looking at her with disdain from across the table. Her mother snapped her gloved, tobacco-scented fingers a few inches from her nose. "...why did you choose today to be difficult?" Her mother lowered her arm then shook her head and clucked, the way she always did to indicate her daughter was an embarrassment. "You really ought to learn how to act in polite company, really, darling-" The room quieted. The other mothers and their daughters were staring at her, snickers and knowing smiles barely hidden behind highball glasses. The chickens squawked nearby. Two parlours, both alike in pageantry. Her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched up. She shoved the chair back with a screech and walked outside without so much as a word.

16 - How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

One and only :) I have small multiverse ideas for me and my girlfriend's Fallout OC but that's about it.

20 - Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I root myself deep with hard emotions and spend a lot of time in the psychology, memory and dreams of my characters. I'm unafraid to pull quotes and reference pop culture and real life or historical figures in my fic - they are layered and are in-jokes with myself, I avoid going about them "Ready Player One" style. I do diegetic music. Each chapter title is a song. Probably due to having done journalism in post secondary - I have an observational style first. My favourite compliment I ever had on my fic was that my scenes are rich, full of detail and vivid. I aim to let the reader into my interpretation of the Fallout universe and to take them for a movie-like ride.

#thank you for the ask! #i'm sorry this is so long #long time running #writer asks #writer ask game #my writing #writing