Tumgik
#when i said theyd make a band this is one of those results
weirdmageddon · 8 months
Text
davejade album
18 notes · View notes
xtrafluffyteddy · 2 years
Text
Cant you see that your lost
Pairing: Eddie munson x rockstar! Reader
Mentions: flirting, protests, Jason being a dick
Imagine your in a famous band and tonight you made a quick detour into Hawkins to play one show in hopes of seeing a certain someone and imagine ghost exists in this time thank you lava you
Tumblr media
You sat in the tour bus working on your makeup making sure it’s perfect for the show tonight do you think a lot of people will show up? No. Did you still wanna look hot as shit for a certain someone your hoping with be there? Yup!
Eddie had noticed the fliers up for a metal concert being held noticing your bands name among the lineup a certain excitement coursing through his body at the thought of seeing you
He had rushed back to his new trailer since his last one was destroyed quickly running to his room to get ready adorning himself with all his rings, leather jacket and the most important his battle vest that had a new patch over the heart with your bands name displayed
You stepped out of the tour bus being met with screaming and shouting about how your going to hell and that your worshipping the devil which resulted in you placing your fingers against his head like horns sticking your tongue out as far as it would go letting out an obscene growl shooting Jason who was front and center of the protesting the nastiest glare you could manage as you walked by.
Eddie had pulled into the parking lot tires screeching with how hard he parked and shut off the engine checking over himself in the mirror one last time before hopping out slipping inside surprisingly not being spotted by the protestors.
As you readied yourself for the show you gave yourself your usual pep talk telling yourself your beautiful your powerful no one is gonna stand in your way or theyd regret it, fixing your outfit one last time before turning and walking down the seemingly endless hall towards the roar of the crowd chafing your bands name.
Eddie was in awe the moment you stepped up into the stage his heart racing roaring in his ears, I mean he had remembered you being gorgeous but my god you were like an angel…well demon sent to knock people dead with just your looks alone
You grinned catching Eddie’s eyes in the crowd sending him a wink and little wave as you leaned into the mic shouting “ARE YOU FUCKIN READY HAWKINS!!” which was followed by the roar of screaming fans all fighting to get as close to the stage as the barricades would allow screaming out your name as well as some not family friendly comments
“LETS FUCKING GO!” That qued your band members to start playing square hammer, you starting to sing serenading the crowd with your fluid albeit sexual moves reaching out to hold some fans hands faking them out at the very end before turning to dance with some of your band mates getting into it
Eddie is awestruck having the time of his life as he watches the person he’s had a crush on since freshman year of highschool own the stage and the crowds attention cheering and singing along the best he could eyes widening when your guitarist played the sickest riff he’d heard in a while.
When the song ended you were already sweating but you loved it, you loved the exhilarating feeling of the fans calling out for you declaring their love for you.
“How was that my lovelies you feeling exhilarated!” You called out “a little hot and bothered if you will?” You let out a loud laugh winking at few people in the crowd making sure the make direct eye contact with Eddie when you said those words
“Now this next one this next one was written with a certain someone in mind” you smiled at Eddie before turning back to the crowd giving the signal for the band to start playing Circe
You start singing swaying your body with the mic using it as an extension of you art. “I feel your presence amongst us.” Your hands drift over the crowd rings glinting off the stage lights
“You cannot hide in the darkness,” you hand stops above where Eddie is standing, the band really getting into the song some of them flirting with the crowd as well “can you hear the rumble?” You grin “can you hear the rumble that’s calling?” As you stomp fire shoots up from the stage.
“I know your soul is not tainted,” you make eye contact with Eddie as you sing these next few lines wanting him to really feel what your saying “even though you’ve been told so,” you lean down reaching into the crowd taking a few fans hands before pulling away heading back up the little stairs on the stage “can you hear the rumble?, can you hear the rumble that’s calling?” You sing along with your back up guitarist
“I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart” you step off the stage and make your way toward Eddie crowd parting, “I can see through the scars inside you,” you reach out caressing his cheek thumb grazing over the demo bat scars on the sides of his neck and jaw, “I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart,” you sing to Eddie like he’s the only one in the room
Eddie is flustered afraid to reach out and touch you for fear of you disappearing or not accepting his advances “I can see through the scars inside you.” You say to him and he feels it in his heart that it’s true that only you truly know what it was like for him after the murder accusations, and the fight against vecna
He watches as you turn around walk back towards the stage to finish the set heart pounding in his hears as he reaches up to touch where your hands once were some fans giving him a jealous glare.
Once the set is over you hop off the stage after thanking your band mates and giving them a cut of the profits scanning the crowd in search of Eddie wanting to talk to him
When you spot him by the back of the venue you rush over as fast as you can signing autographs and taking pictures with fans along the way before you finally reach him
Eddie stands up straight startled by the sight of you not thinking you were gonna stay after the show “I-I- you were-“ he tries to get out nervousness building up “you were so fucking awesome up there” he finally gets out giving you a dorky smile
You smile and throw yourself into his arms taking a deep breath inhaling his scent of cloves, patchouli, weed, and some cheap cologne he had decided to wear tonight but you loved it, it was so him, so Eddie
“I’m glad you liked it Handsome” you smiled up at him eyes softening as they met with the gorgeous brown ones “I’m glad you came Eddie” you mumbled sweetly keeping your arms wrapped around his neck his wrapped around your waist
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world sweetheart” he said with a smile brushing away some hair from your sweaty forehead leaving a chaste kiss where it once was
“You missed Eddie” you grinned and leaned up pulling him into a searing kiss toying with the ends of his hair
As Eddie was kissing you all he could think was how you were definitely sent by something otherworldly just to tempt him and he wouldn’t have it any other fucking way.
214 notes · View notes
o-sirensongs-o · 4 years
Text
Based on this post by @incorrectzukka (sorry if you dont want this to be associated with Homestuck, it just gave me an idea I wanted to screw around with)
(For context, the marks fade to be a bit darker than skin tone. If the feelings towards each other are negative, the marks will fade to something darker, depending on the strength of emotion)
-☆-
-Florin and Nailah have had each others marks on them for as long as theyve known each other (Florins mark, sharp against Nailah's collarbone, and Nailah's, bright against Florin's upper arm, scattered across them both are other marks, some bright, others dulled and dark)
-Stark against sevlaz' ankle are the marks of her dearest companions (they match her mark on each of them, nailah's wrist, over pyaria's heart, the inside of mintea's wrist, as bright as theyd always be)
-Fiercely bright against Crista's right shoulderblade, a smattering of bright marks, zias shining brightest of all, result of many late nights talking and binging random shows while making plans to trade the next day. (A clear opposition to the right side cluster sits a small grouping of grey marks, evidence of years of mental harm and cruelty, disregarded by the teal until it was said and done, with others to help it make sense)
-worming thier way across Karius' upper leg, a series of bright markings, showing him that there were several people who wouldn't hesitate to go to bat for him, for his sake, no matter what the world said about his caste
-Right along his hairline, generally covered by the benie (and a good thing too, what would people do if they found out that one was a shade of lime that hadnt been seen in a millennium, he didn't want that to happen, he wouldn't let it) that was were Kurtiz' marks rested, bright golds greens and blues, put together with the colors of seadwellers, feared (rightfully, but not for these seadwellers) for thier ruthless use of status, proclaiming that there were people who saw worth in him despite his low, his muddy caste
-Miarah's marks, curled round her fin, and, despite some of thier colors in contrast to hers, it felt good. It felt right
-they only started appearing after he joined the chat. A bright band of marks, sharp against his upper arm, bright and solid, something to focus on. Rookie promised himself, no matter what happened, he wouldn't forget who they symbolized
-Tehlum has no marks. Not until they reach the game and he meets the crew (all at once, bright searing marks flare, solidifying a passing thought that despite it all, theyd be there for each other)
-None of them know what zias marks are until halfway through the game, when ce is severely injured, and they have to strip off cel jacket and edge up cel shirt to get at the large, bright, bloody gash across cel back (there, looped around and around cel arm, chasing each other, a multitude of marks, a mass of them being dull, but one a seething black that makes them all flinch back. Wounds were one thing, that particular mark was quite another)
-later during the game, Zias mark shines bright against the skin of those who have it before fading to a black
-it later flares back into color, once cel grimdark incident is over and done
8 notes · View notes
Note
4,6,14
oh dope a response to the question thing n shit thats cool
it waaaaas for my fav band my future piercing n the last time i cried
soooo uh i think the last time i garbled upon the subject i was fuckin spurtin like crazy bout milo who is still fuckin like
legit to the heart n core of my soul not even kiddin hes like my musical spirit animal
buuut since goin juts about him twice is redundant ill just go fuckin crazy over soomeone else for a tick
iiiid say probably aesop rock
i fuckin went bananas over him before when i found out that he skated despite him saying that he could in “lotta years” but like knowing that he can still pull off impossibles is slick so i got hype off that anyways
but hes legit for real his instrumentals are absolutely fuckin excellent on their own but his bars are worth their gold on their own since usually they are just drippin with some kind of meanin
he just has a great way of wording shit man the way that he can be so fantastical with his lyrics is absolutely inspiring
there was even a study that compared rappers and their word diversity and aesop was so above fucking EVERYONE that his result wasnt even properly represented in the graph because youd have to expand the whole thing at the cost of space to the other rappers so hes just stuck at the end like outlier georg
i mean hes outpreforming a high number of major players like drake n mf doom n the ENTIRE WUTANG CLAN PUT TOGETHER its fucking outrageous
you can find the chart here https://pudding.cool/2017/02/vocabulary/ hes just so fucking dope
in terms of piercings id like to say either on my fuckin butt or something or like lobe and industrial bars cuz those are cool n shit
i wanted to get like a tongue stud for a while but then i heard its super easy to idly chew on those things and fuck up your teeth something real good which sounds exactly like something id so nah lmao
i can see myself swallowing em by accident too and id probably like cut up my insides and then die like a big old idiot
the doctor will look over my corpse and point and laugh and be like hahaha what the fuck this isnt even a thing that fucking happens what a loser
anyways the crying one uhhhh
[ PRIVATE ]
k so like i normally fuckin hate sharin this shit cuz its a bit too much
since shit doesnt matter to other people and all bein fuckin open bout it does is like
make rando people worried about me n shit?? n i dont wanna do that cuz it feels like im just jumping people with my bullshit n forcing them to feel bad
n then it becomes a fucking assblast festival in my honor and name and people will put down hard pity about it and bother me bout it like they know my shit
some rando fuckin internet strangers actin as my moral compass as if i asked
as if im this idiot puppy dog who needs to be pitied and babied and guided cuz boohoo he feels bad
even talkin bout it openly is essentially a call for attention and i aint no pussy
but my therapist be tellin me i need tbe more open more so ill spill this shit i guess
by the way if you copy paste this shit or put it somewhere or fucking do anything with what im spittin i will fuckin hunt you down and expose you like the piece of shit pussy coward you are
i dont even give a fuck if you pass me on this i will fight to put down your ass n get your ass tossed off your job or some shit
but uh
yeah anyways
last time i cried was like a few weeks ago cuz like i was at work n it was a tuesday and since jack shit happens on tuesdays right
cept the only thing was some new album was coming out that day but thats chill
but some fucker came in with this huge trade in and is making me go through his dead granddads music movie collection of 100+ which is horrible but fuckin FINE whatever
i end up having to juggle this transaction with people trying to buy said album and calling to ask if i have said album which stressed me out like fuck cuz this trade in guy was a bit of a fucking grunch when i had to do other things that werent his thing because “he was there first” but other people would get grunchy when theyd get ignored or put aside for trade in guy because it “they deserve just as much attention as the next customer”
or theyd be forced to wait a good bit because im busy with something else
not like everyone was like that but one person is enough to ruin the mood right
anyways that wasnt the thing that really set me off to cry
well not directly anyways
in foresight i could have just said bad work day and not give an essay bout my horsecrap but i already typed it all out so fuck it you asked
it was just a bad day and there was a lot of moments that made me feel stupid and i just really hate feeling stupid
so anyway i finished my shift n finished up and just rushed off to the employees bathroom since it was the closest secluded place n i just needed a fuckin moment to just
destress i guess
enclosed spaces make me comfortable i guess idk
so im just on the toliet lid down holding my head in my hands holding the weight with my elbows on my knees and im just
getting more and more upset
like ill think about a mistake ive made that day then ill think about a worse mistake ive made in the past and get upset more
then ill get upset at myself at me holding those past grudges and get upset how i cant just let go of shit all together
and then ill get upset about getting upset about this SAME issue AGAIN and it just keeps looping through it over and over again like feedback between a microphone and a speaker
which is so infuriating because i KNOW that its happening all over again but i cant stop being a just
huge pussy and crying about it
so uh yeah i cried all like that and it was pretty awful
[ PRIVATE END ]
fuckin stubbed my toe haha it sucked
2 notes · View notes
Text
Forget Dystopias, These Sci-Fi Writers Opt For Optimism Instead
New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/forget-dystopias-these-sci-fi-writers-opt-for-optimism-instead/
Forget Dystopias, These Sci-Fi Writers Opt For Optimism Instead
Its hot, and youre walking. Shuffling, actually. Youve spanned a seemingly endless chalk-dry plane, and youre thirsty, run-down, exhausted. You think about your flaking, parched lips and aching muscles, and about how your arduous journey will be worth it if you ever reach your destination. An immigrant, youre searching for a new place to live, because the place you call home has become barely livable. Youre thinking about the hot dirt sweat-caked on your skin when youre interrupted by an even greater pain — your tooth, recently implanted with a geo-location chip, is practically vibrating. This means youre close.
So begins Madeleine Ashbys short story, By the Time We Get to Arizona, published last year in Hieroglyph, a collection of science-fiction stories meant to inspire readers about the possibilities the future holds, rather than invoke fear about impending societal doom. Solutions to climate change catastrophes abound in the series; so do suggestions for jumping forward in our approach to space exploration technologies. Ashbys story — a spinoff of her Masters thesis on making border security more humane — explores a world where guns and guards are replaced by sensors and facial recognition technology.
Conceived of by Neal Stephenson — a celebrated writer whose most recent novel ventures a guess at what post-Earth diplomacy might look like — Hieroglyph showcases a growing crew of writers who, by commission or by choice, present sunnier alternatives to the now-prevalent, Hunger Games-fueled dystopia trend. These arent the stifling factions of Divergent or the heart-pounding twists and turns of The Maze Runner; they arent the bleak worlds crafted by Margaret Atwood or even the fable-like, anti-technology morals embedded in movies like Wall-E. Although many of the stories in Hieroglyph highlight societal problems, they have technological solutions to those problems embedded within them.
The anthology, along with the few others like it, was divisive in the science-fiction community. One camp, headed up by Stephenson, holds the belief that scientists and engineers could use a positive push from the writers whose job it is to imagine what the future will look like. Writers, Stephenson asserts, have a responsibility not only to confront social problems, but to provide potential solutions, too. So, a socially disheveled community like The Hunger Games Panem might feature a technology that allows citizens to communicate with each other, and fight back. Because these writers are using their fiction to provide solutions to contemporary problems, many necessarily couch their stories in grim scenarios the characters must escape from. Sexism, racism and classism are addressed, if subtly.
This doesnt sit well with the other school of readers and writers, who lament the days when an interstellar story was a joyride, whizzing quickly past social justice issues towards thrilling plot twists. One particularly rabid breed of decriers are the writers who make up a group called the Sad Puppies, who banded together during The Hugo Awards to stack the vote against minority and women writers. The problem, they claim, is that the science-fiction community has prioritized social justice and diversity, ignoring superior prose and more inventive stories as a result. Science-fiction, they say, is about fun. Its about escaping the problems of the real world through otherworldly scenarios — including dystopias — in which a central hero implausibly conquers evil alone, rather than with the aid of collective thinking and the useful technologies that arise from it.
The future of science-fiction — which, if George Orwells Nineteen Eighty-Four or Aldous Huxleys Brave New World are indicators, runs parallel with the future of science and technology on our own planet — probably lies somewhere on the vast, auroral spectrum between these two approaches. So, its worth examining both, and the groups of writers propelling them.
***
Now is not a time for realism, Margaret Atwood said in a recent interview with NPR, succinctly summarizing why so many literary writers flock to fantasy, to dystopia, to amplifying the threat of impending problems — environmental and political — that arent yet a reality.
Though the genre has seen a spike in popularity within teen-centric reading communities, its seeped into the realm of grown-up storytelling more than ever. Which isnt to say its unfamiliar territory for writers of adult literary fiction. In fact, dystopian stories began, arguably, with a weird, little book written by Mary Shelley in 1826 thats since become a beloved classic: The Last Man. The story centers on a plague-addled Europe, where a man named Lionel struggles to survive alongside various extant communities. Theres a false messiah, political turmoil, and all the other makings of a present-day dystopia. Though Shelleys book wasnt recognized until the 1960s, others like it by Jules Verne and H.G. Wells surfaced shortly thereafter, spawning a sub-genre of writing that asks timeless questions about human nature, and how it responds to dire, life-threatening scenarios.
But today, with a few notable exceptions (Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins), popular dystopian stories have lost a bit of their original complexity. They tend to be thinly cloistered morality lessons, better suited for young readers. Rather than highlighting the nuances of human interactions, they tend to generalize, and draw hard lines between good and evil.
Why are more and more adult literary writers, and adult literary fiction readers, opting into the rather nihilistic and juvenile genre? Its a quandary posed again and again by columnists, providing more questions than answers — perhaps because the answer is hazy. It could be that the genre distracts readers from present realities, or provides a puzzle-like, limited scenario for a protagonist to work through, so different from the more fractured plot of real life. Or, it could be that our present realities seem increasingly fantastical, due to the quick proliferation of disastrous events filling our Twitter feeds alongside our friends quotidian musings.
Madeline Ashby believes its the latter.
There are elements of dystopia in everybodys lives, she said in an interview with The Huffington Post. Remember the Christmas protests in Ferguson? Theres this image of riot police under this big electrified, Seasons Greetings banner. If you search for Ferguson plus Seasons plus Greetings, youll find the picture. I found it, and I tweeted in all caps, WHY DO SO MANY KIDS LOVE DYSTOPIA? HM, I WONDER.
Ashby cites her own dystopia-like governmental interactions as inspiration for many of her sci-fi stories, including By the Time We Got to Arizona. In 2006, she immigrated to Canada, and says the process, for her, was dehumanizing.
My immigration took over a year, she said, adding that she feels fortunate — for other people immigrating to Canada, two years is the average wait-time.
During that process youre essentially a number and a sheet of paper. You feel it every time they ask you progressively more invasive questions, Ashby added, sharing an anecdote about how immigration questions reduce complex romantic relationships to statistics-based judgement calls. [Theyd ask] things like, Can you describe to us the number and monetary value of gifts exchanged between the two of you. And then you start to think, oh, OK, the quality of my relationship is already interpreted through capital. I have a monetary value.
In her short story, Ashby acknowledges these issues, but also offers solutions to the problem. She notes that by working change-inspiring technologies into her plots, she’s at the very least offering readers a sense of hope. 
Dystopia is very useful in grappling with the world as it exists, Ashby said. Its a really stylized, formalized way of talking about things that are already happening in practice. But utopia, or more optimistic stories, can also be useful, because you can imagine a future that you actually want.
Ashbys fiction is informed by her other, more technical approach to writing. After studying Strategic Foresight and Innovation at the Ontario College of Art and Design, she started getting gigs drafting potential future scenarios for organizations such as Intel Labs and Nesta. Envisioning the future on behalf of corporations and research labs isnt exactly an established career path — actually, it sounds a little like something out of a sci-fi novel. But Ashby isnt the only writer who moonlights as a narrative scenario practitioner. Theres a host of organizations dedicated to allowing sci-fi writers to draft potential outcomes for specific companies or entire industries. Sci Futures, a sort of think tank dedicated to providing these services to clients such as Crayola, Ford, and Lowes, has a pithy tagline encapsulating their mission: “Where sci-fi gets real. A comparable organization, 2020 Media Futures, describes its mission as, an ambitious, multi-industry strategic foresight project designed to understand and envision what media may look like in the year 2020.
So, the research interests are vast. Of her work with Intel Labs and beyond, Ashby said, They often tell me, we want the future of intelligent systems, or the future of warfare in smart cities, the future of a world without antibiotics, the future of programmable matter, or the Internet of things.
Because Ashby spends considerable time dreaming up innovative solutions to social problems, she cant help but imbue her stories with similar gizmos and features. Her stories dont always involve positive situations for her characters, but they do often incorporate technologies that could solve said characters problems.
This is the central tenet of techno-optimism, the breed of science-fiction writing thats working to counter the rough terrain of dystopia, barren and desolate as it is; thirsty, it sometimes seems, for a solution thats bigger than a big-hearted narrator.
Writer and anthology editor Kathryn Cramer was a reluctant adopter of the genre. When aforementioned writer Stephenson, author of Seveneves, approached her to edit a collection of stories united under the banner of positive change, she worried the stories themselves would suffer from lack of plot, and lack of diversity. But, as she commissioned works of techno-optimism, she realized the genre promotes diverse voices rather than suppressing them. Her fears were quelled.
When we contemplate dark scenarios or disasters for the future, it is perhaps an ethically and morally good thing to do to figure out what the solutions might be, especially technological solutions, Cramer said in an interview with HuffPost. If we look at the 20th century, there are a whole lot of things that changed our lives in good ways, and solved a lot of problems, ranging from vaccines and refrigerated food transportation to frozen food. Some of them are sexy, like space travel, but a lot of them are things that improved everybodys lives in ways we might notve expected. Preservatives, things like that.
Cramers altruistic outlook hints at her thoughts on what a book can, and should, accomplish. While she believes writers have a responsibility to push innovation in a positive direction, some readers and writers think that mindset interferes with the quality of a story. So addressing societal problems, be it via extended, post-apocalyptic metaphors, or via similarly bleak settings peppered with hope, doesnt sit well with all sci-fi readers. Most notably, there are those — cue the Sad Puppies — who are nostalgic for the days of so-called Golden Age sci-fi: Star Trek-like space-travel adventures that offer a means of briefly escaping the restrictions of the real world. Nimble writing and world-building is supposedly the aim for such stories; political opinions, solutions-oriented and otherwise, are actively eschewed.
But the Puppies agenda — which resulted in No Award being given at the Hugo Awards this year in categories for which only white men were nominated — extends beyond particular tastes in writing styles. Claiming science-fiction has opted for affirmative action-guided decisions rather than supporting story-centric writing, they lobbied to place white, male writers — including themselves — on the award ballots.
Ashby spoke passionately against the Puppies movement: Thats part of their battle cry: Why do we have to think about social issues in our science fiction? Why do we have to think about other genders, or sexualities, or economic circumstances? Why cant it just be fun like it used to be? Well, yeah, Im sure it was really fun when you werent thinking about it. Everythings a lot more fun when youre not thinking about it.
Thinking about it, according to Ashby, involves confronting the dire state of life for some social groups. It involves constructing a narrative that encourages the reader to consider the lives of others, rather than just getting lost in his own fantasy world, in which he alone is the hero and the solution. It involves hope not in the form of a triumphant narrator, but in the technologies we can create when we do something really miraculous: work together.
Read more: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/
0 notes