Oooo It’s Me!!

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

Cute headcanon: Imagine Billy being told the truth that day at the Byers in s2 and becoming the Party Co-Parent with steve and Dustin telling Billy that he and Steve are the party's paladin and fighter and Billy's gleaned enough to be like "haha I'm the fighter I get it" only for Dustin to be like "nope you're a paladin under the oath of devotion, you fit all the tenets" and just rocking Billy's world bc he's never been told his tendency to throw himself in the middle of shit and this protectiveness that's gotten twisted is a *good* thing

Steve finds him later just staring blankly at the Players Manual that Dustin showed Billy and he just sighs and goes to yell at Dustin like "what did I SAY about not breaking Billy with the revelation that he's not a complete asshole"

Listen, listen, listen. This is pure gold.

Because picture it: Billy was in the right to be creeped the fuck out when he rolled up to the Byers house that night, right? He's running around looking for his little sister, knowing he's going to get his ass handed to him if something's happened to her, and he finds her with Steve fucking Harrington and a whole bunch of boys at a strange house in a part of town he's likely never been to, that Max snuck out to get to. If he'd gotten an actual explanation, if Steve had said, "Hey, man, I know this is weird as shit, but there's a whole lot that you don't know. There's some life or death shit happening here."

...I mean, Billy still would've tried to fight him. It's Billy. I'd love it if a demodog attacked at that same moment. Ramp up the tension and shove Billy right into this world of monsters and mayhem. Maybe it grabs him while he's pummeling Steve, so he has no choice but to react, to whirl around on it, and Steve stumbles up and helps him kill it and Billy just stares at him like what. the. fuck.

And he looks at Max because, seriously, we have been here for like a week, how have you already gotten involved with some Stephen King-level bullshit, Maxine? And she has absolutely no time to explain. She's still wrapping her head around all of this, after all. She tells Billy he's either in or out and holds her hands out, demanding his keys, and he just rolls his eyes and piles everyone into his car and they do the whole going down into the tunnels thing. He has NO CLUE what's going on, but he's not letting Max out of his sight now that he knows her life is in literal danger.

It's not until the Snow Ball that Steve gives Billy the full run-down. Max has given him bits and pieces, but it's still so new to both of them, so he has to get the whole story from Steve. They drive Dustin and Max to the dance, then spend the night sitting on the hood of the Camaro while Steve tells Billy everything. "There's a girl with superpowers? What is this, the fucking X-Men?" He's dumbfounded, but he's got no choice to believe it. And he won't quite admit it to anyone else, but it did feel good, down in those tunnels, to fight with someone instead of against them — to feel like Steve and the kids all had his back.

And maybe when the Mind Flayer comes back around, it doesn't go after Billy, because Billy's not alone, he's not isolated. He's got Steve now, because you don't fight inter-dimensional monsters with someone and not get close to them. They hang out. They become friends. Maybe more than friends. And it's a package deal, yeah? You get Steve, you get the kids. Plus, he and Max have a better relationship after, y'know, nearly getting eaten by demogorgons together. He might be a little grumpy, a little rough around the edges, but he still has friends. He's not an island anymore. The Mind Flayer has to pick someone else while Billy is with the kids, all of them worried about where Steve and Dustin might be this whole time, and when they finally link up together at the mall, Dustin tells him his role. He looks at Steve and Billy and says, "Fighter. Paladin." and Billy rolls his eyes because yeah, okay, of course he's the fighter, all fists and rage, and Dustin looks at him all confused and is like nope, no sir, you're the paladin — the leader — the protector.

And Billy is blown away.

No one challenges Dustin, either. They all agree, and this confuses Billy even more. Max is the one that explains that he protects them. That they all see it, that they all know that he looks out for them, this little group of misfits, these targets for the bully that Billy thought he was. They see him. They know that he's more than some angry kid, more than the asshole his father has molded him to be, and MY GOD would he take that so, so seriously.

And yes, when all is said and done and they can have their little MCU-esque post credits scene eating pizza and playing D&D in Mike's basement, Billy sits in the corner and thumbs through the player's guide to learn more about this title that Dustin has bestowed upon him, and Steve shakes his head and looks at Dustin all, "Nice going. You broke him." but he can't say it without smiling because look at Billy. Being part of the group. Embracing the weirdos. Counting himself among them.

GOD I LOVE IT.

two (2) people asked how i did the matchbook thing so take this

this is just a simple idea but if you spend some more time you can get real krazy with it:

making fake prints is so fun please do it immediately free resources under cut xoxo

pixelbuddha.net

Paper Textures Kit

Wouldn't it be nice to have the hi-res paper textures just like in real life? Hot-press, watercolor, recycled, sketchbook paper — we've trie

Mixergraph

Free Grunge photoshop brushes Kit

In this small kit you’ll get 1 brush file (.abr), which includes these 5 photoshop brushes. All of these textures were handmade, digitalise

retrosupply my love

Spoon Graphics

9 Free High Resolution Grain Textures in JPG & PNG Format

I hope everyone’s 2016 is off to a great start so far. I thought I’d treat my readers and make this year’s first post a new free design reso

why do i keep seeing “young!ditzy!reader” or “trophywife!reader” or stupid shit like that where authors make the ‘reader’ the most fragile person in the world??

at the end of the day, this recession theory shit is real. and it is seen clearly as day on this app.

why are the inspo pics for the oneshot just blonde and skinny white girls?? why are we making the reader sweet and innocent and fragile??

and look, there’s nothing wrong about being a blonde and skinny white girl, but after seeing the same pictures as inspo for a series or a oneshot, it gets annoying and repetitive how there’s no diversity.

also, i’m not saying every post in the “x reader” tag is like this, but they just keep popping up on my feed and i had to speak my mind about it.

please, if anyone reads this, tell me if you found the same problem or i’m just going crazy.

rank the kids from "would destroy the batmobile in less than 10 minutes if left alone" to "Bruce wouldn't notice for 2 weeks if you took it for a joyride"

Canonically can't drive – Cassandra

Can drive but can't operate the controls – Duke

He's 3 feet tall, that's a fender bender waiting to happen – Damian

Promptly returned it because he felt bad – Cullen

She's 13 – Carrie

Failed her driving test so many times the DMV just gave her a license so she'd stop bothering them – Stephanie

Tried to pull a quick one as an only child so as punishment he's no longer an only child – Dick

Could pilot it remotely while borrowing her neighbor's WiFi – Barbara

Made it halfway to Central City before getting a ticket – Harper

Slowly stole the parts and reassembled it somewhere else, waiting for the opportunity to pull up next to Bruce with his second secret Batmobile – Jason

Leaves it where it normally is but gaslights Bruce into thinking it's gone – Tim

nature witch tip🪵🌱

Wood barks/chippings promotes protection (esp from an oak tree!)

i used the skin of a fallen branch for this, i used the wood for other witchy projects, and saved the skin for my jars and mesh bags!

i used it for car protection; in a mesh bag i placed:

wood bark and chippings

rosemary

chamomile flowers (i used dried flowers)

a bay leaf with my chosen rune of protection

cloves

hanged it up my rearview mirror, then cleansed my car (before and after) and visualized white energy flowing around inside and outside the car

Lately there was a level 4 Hurricane here in Florida, tried my best to physically protect my home (and it’s energy too).

Just did a grocery run yesterday, i was nervous to see my car with water damage, but it was safe 🥹 no flooding, no water that got in my engine 🥹 and the mesh bag hanging still on my rearview mirror.

i hope this tip can help my fellow witches, (and for our baby witches too🥹)

My bestie sent me this and beg for fanart lol meet Hunter

Some after "Sinners" reading material if you're interested in Black American and Indigenous History (and the immigrants who came over, too). I put in the Jones-Rogers book too so y'all won't think the 58% had no serious role in shaping the horrors of America.

Adding this amazing "Sinners Syllabus" too for further resources to educate yourself. The books above are ones I have in my personal library, but some very cool people put together an entire webpage of information. Check it out HERE.

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.