#so our regularly scheduled programing will be back shortly

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

I kind of love At This Festival Bathed in Twilight. I think, if asked, Mafuyu would say she doesn't have a dream, and that if being a nurse had ever been her dream, it isn't right now. But it is, and we get the delivery so gently yet poignantly.

Right out of the gate, we see Mafuyu pause when she stumbles on a med school study guide for students on a nursing path, and then see her take passing interest that one of the volunteer duties she may have is helping with first aid, but on it's own this isn't anything.

Mafuyu isn't quite aware she actually does want to be a nurse, and doesn't say anything when asked where she would like to volunteer. However, she does regret it,

and it's delivered with a pang in her chest, which returns throughout the event. Namely, when Mafuyu she sees others expressing themselves while living their own dreams.

Watching Shizuku perform, she and Mafuyu have a brief moment of connection where Shizuku found her in the crowd, made eye contact and even waved to her, after asking Mafuyu to please watch their performance if her volunteer duties give her the opportunity to.

Mafuyu flashes back to Shizuku telling her she wants for her performances as an idol to bring people hope, because, now, Mafuyu knows that she succeeds at that. She feels hope, something she associates with Nightcord at 25:00. She has two consecutive flashbacks, herself acting out of a feeling of hope, that her mom might understand if she tells her she wants to practice music as a hobby, and then her mom shutting down the conversation with saying Mafuyu can ultimately do what she wants but that it's in the face of what her mother knows is actually best for her.

It ends with that same feeling in her chest, of being denied something that would make her happy. So many people in Mafuyu's circle are pursuing happiness, while whether it's working the first aid tent at Shibuya Festa, switching paths to a nursing degree, or feeling cornered into quitting music, Mafuyu knows she can be happy but isn't allowed to do so.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

Hi yes hello I live once more

Had a cold snap come through this month that absolutely fucked me over. My apartment has a really bad draft in the front door, so I literally was struggling to exist in single digit temps for about 2 weeks there. But the cold seems to be breaking now, which is super exciting because now I can emerge from my cave!

In other news, Ive scheduled my first teaching certification exam for the last Saturday of March, which means it’s time to buckle down and get to work 💪💪💪 gonna try to be more active here and on Bluesky in the meantime, but whatever happens happens lol

[invye]

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled program to bring you a snippet of a potential ZoSan undercover as a married couple fic:

(Timeline wise shoehorned in sometime shortly after the timeskip, before the Strawhats make it back into the news big time.)

(People need saving from a exclusive circle of nobility, but most of the Stawhats have already been seen around the island, so the lot ends up on Zoro and Sanji to try get in posing as a freshly married couple on their honeymoon to try get more information.)

[after coming up with the plan and Zoro and Sanji hesitantly agreeing]

Robin: "You seem a little stressed, Cook-san."

Sanji, chain-smoking his third cigarette: "I'm fine, I'll do this… I just… I don't like lying about something as significant as marriage, alright? I know it's stupid, but that's just how I am."

Luffy, perking up from where one might have thought he wasn't paying attention at all: "Oi, Sanji, promise to protect Zoro?"

Sanji, puffing out smoke: "Obviously, the Marimo would get lost within all of two seconds without me having his back."

Luffy: "Good! Now, Zoro--!"

Zoro, already rising to the bait: "Oi, if anyone is protecting anyone, I'll be guarding your lanky ass, shit cook!"

Luffy, laughing: "Alright, then as the captain of this ship I hereby pronounce you married!"

Zoro:

Sanji:

Robin: "Oh my, congratulations!"

Brook: bursts into song

Luffy, grinning at Sanji: "See, now it's not a lie anymore, so you don't have to feel bad about calling Zoro your husband."

Zoro: "LUFFY!!! YOU CAN'T JUST--"

Sanji: wordlessly walks off to get ready for the mission

Usopp: "Wait, wait!" runs after Sanji, grabbing his wrist

Sanji: stares

Usopp, sweating nervously: "Need your ring size…"

Sanji: staring intensifies

Usopp, scurrying off as quickly as humanly possible: "Wedding gift!"

Luffy, in the distance, still being yelled at by Zoro: "Too bad we don't have time to celebrate, I really want some wedding cake… :("

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

📢 ANNOUNCEMENT: System Outage Resolved

We're pleased to report that the system outage at the Gallifrey Institute for Learning has been resolved! Our tech team has restored normal operations across campus.

🛠️ Tech Team Debrief

After extensive investigation, the outage was traced to the following probable root causes:

A rogue toaster attempting to overwrite mainframe authority protocols with a toast-based operating system ("CrumbOS 4.2").

A minor wormhole in the janitorial supply closet.

Something to do with Oxgawoa.

All issues have been resolved:

🍜 Food Machines: Now correctly dispensing Gallifreyan cuisine again.

🔔 Cloister Bell: Back to emergency-only chimes. If you still hear it every 42 seconds, please check for paradox leakage.

🌀 Transmat System: Now delivering people to intended locations. Please report if you find yourself in prehistoric Skaro.

🎨 Lighting Controls: Colour palette has been reset.

🖥️ Archive Terminals: Fully operational. Gallifreyan cat memes have been archived.

Daily posts will resume shortly. Thank you for your patience during this minor infrastructure collapse! We now return to our regularly scheduled temporal programming.

Announcements by GIL

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[bg3smash-or-pass]

Welcome, welcome! Furries one and all! If I may introduce you all to @neopets-smash-or-pass !

I suffer the curse of a grown woman who’s gotten back into Neopets and so discovering a fellow smash or pass blog with this beloved ridiculous premise, I have to shout them out! Neopets fan or not, any furry (or those willing to venture into that space for the sake of a smash or pass) I feel can get a kick out of this blog!

And if any of you happen to be neopets people, please, come friend me at “tadpolebaldy” and witness me turn our beloved BG3 characters into neopets. It’s a work in progress right now but I’ve been messing around in an outfit planner and I have PLANS

A sneak peek

(And worry not. I’ve been recovering from an illness and then on vacation, but this blog will resume its regularly scheduled programming shortly)

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Shattered

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 29, Sam picks up what pieces she can.

...

“Sam, I don’t understand.”

Sam doesn’t look up from the table, though she can feel her mother trying to get her attention.

“It’s really not that complicated,” she says shortly.  “I know you’re not trying to say it’s too expensive.”

“No,” Mom says slowly.  “We can afford it.  But Samantha—”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam snaps, still not looking up.

“Sam,” Mom corrects… easily and without argument?  “This is coming out of nowhere.  It’s something you’ve argued against in the past.  I don’t understand why—”

“I don’t care if you don’t understand,” Sam says.  “I don’t want to go to school anymore.  Get me a private tutor and let me learn here.”

Mom doesn’t say anything, and Sam still doesn’t look up from the table.  She has no idea why it’s taking so long for Mom to respond.  This is something she’s tried to force on Sam numerous times, usually only shot down by Sam and her grandmother convincing her father to reluctantly agree.  But neither of them are here now, by design.  So why is Mom just standing there?

Finally, Mom pulls out a chair and sits down across from her.

“Sam,” she says.  “Can you look at me please?”

“Not interested,” Sam says to the table.

There’s another moment of silence.

“The answer is no,” Mom says.

It surprises Sam enough that she finally looks up.  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I don’t understand why you’re asking,” Mom says, looking calm but also infuriatingly concerned.  “And I don’t think it’s something you would normally do.  Have you had a fight with your friends?”

“And what if I have?  Wouldn’t you be thrilled?”

“Not if you’re being this…” Mom trails off, not seeming to know what to say.  “Sam, what’s happened?  You can talk to me, you know.”

Sam snorts.

“I mean it, Sam.  You haven’t been yourself in a long time.  It’s worrying me.”

“Why does it need to be worrying you?” Sam asks, throwing her hands up.  “Can’t we just stick with our regularly scheduled program of you trying to mold me into something I don’t want to be?”

Mom takes a deep breath and stands up, obvious anger on her face.  “Sam, I think we should have a larger talk as a family,” she says.  “You don’t seem like—”

“I don’t care what I don’t seem like!” Sam snaps, slamming her hands on the table and standing up to continue glaring at Mom.  “Why are you suddenly acting like you care what’s going on in my life?”

“If you’re going to have a temper tantrum, we can continue this conversation later,” Mom says.  “I’m not homeschooling you.  You’ll keep going to school, and that’s that.”

And with that, Mom turns and walks out of the room, leaving Sam to scream through her teeth in frustration.

She sits back down at the table, causing a loud screech of her chair legs dragging across the floor, and she starts twisting her wrist ray back and forth.

She should have known better than to go to Mom with this.  As if she’s ever been helpful in any situation.  Mom has never understood her, of course she doesn’t understand what the problem is, why Sam can’t go back to school.  Mom doesn’t know what she’s done, to Danny and to Tucker, she doesn’t know anything about Vlad, and how he asked if Sam wanted to hunt down her best friend and Sam said yes.  She doesn’t know what a horrible person Sam is, that she hurts the people she loves on purpose, and doesn’t trust them enough to talk to them first.  That for all her attempts to end up different from her parents, she’s turned out worse than either of them.

That Sam deserves to be alone, whether it’s good for her or not.

And if Mom won’t help her, then fine.  Sam will just have to do it herself.

…

A great chance to get started comes later that day, when a knock comes on her door.

“Sam,” Mom calls.  “Tucker’s here to see you.”

Sam rolls over in the dent she’s making in her bed.  “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Tell me yourself,” comes Tucker’s voice, loud and firm and definitely not taking no for an answer.

Sam hesitates for only a second.  “I’m busy.”

She hears the knob to her room turn and Sam sits upright in bed just a second before it opens and Tucker walks in.

“Hey!” Sam snaps.

“I’ll be down in a little bit,” Tucker says to Sam’s mom, like a traitor, and Mom gives him a very uncomfortable looking smile and shuts the door.  Seems she still doesn’t like Sam’s friends, then.

Sam turns away and flops back down on her bed.  “Go away.”

There’s a stretch of silence where Tucker is definitely not going away, and then he sits down on the bed next to Sam.

“Your mom said you were trying to convince her to let you be homeschooled,” Tucker says.

“I’m gonna kill her then,” Sam snaps.

“Sam,” Tucker says.  “Come on, you know that’s not a good idea.”

“Really, because I think it would solve a lot of problems if I didn’t have to deal with my mother anymore—”

“Sam.”

“Leave me alone, Tucker.”

“Nope.”

Sam turns and glares up at him, and finds Tucker glaring just as firmly right back.

“I’m not letting you run away from this Sam.”

“I’m not running away from anything,” Sam snaps.

“Oh, come on.”

Sam turns her gaze back to the wall across from her bed.

“Sam,” Tucker says, his voice more gentle.  “I get it, okay?  Trust me.  We fucked up.  Really bad.  But hiding from it isn’t gonna fix anything.”

“Well it’s sure not gonna make anything worse,” Sam says without moving.

“That’s not true,” Tucker says.  “Come on, Sam.  After everything that’s happened, don’t you think we owe it to Danny to actually try to fix things?”

“I think it would probably help if he didn’t have to deal with someone who’s been repeatedly hurting him on purpose.”

“Or,” Tucker says.  “You could try just not doing that?”

Sam doesn’t say anything.  Instead she starts twisting her wrist ray back and forth.

“Seriously,” Tucker says.  “We’re talking about Danny here.  You know he’s not gonna just throw you aside without making any effort to try and fix things.”

Sam shakes her head and still doesn’t say anything.  She sure hasn’t been acting like she knows that.  She hasn’t been acting like she knows Danny at all.  She’s been acting like someone he’d be better off without.

“Hey,” Tucker says.  “Sam, look at me.  Seriously.”

Sam does.  It’s a lot easier to look at Tucker than it is to look at Danny.

“I’ve been right here this entire time,” Tucker says.  “Did you think that was by accident?  Did you think I was going to go anywhere now that we’re actually done with all the hunting down Danny parts?”

“You didn’t… I made you,” Sam says weakly.

Tucker snorts.  “Oh, please.  As if you could make me do anything.  If you haven’t pulled me into vegetarianism you can’t pull me into anything else, either.”

Sam shakes her head.  “I did,” she insists.  “You didn’t want to do anything at first.  I was the one who insisted we start helping Vlad.  And I dragged you along with me.  You didn’t want to hurt Danny.  I made you.”

Tucker sighs.  “Maybe at first,” he admits.  He scoots next to Sam and grabs her hand, pulling it away from the wrist ray and squeezing it tightly.  “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t choose to stay there with you.  I wasn’t going to leave you with Vlad by yourself.  Sam, you— you’re like a sister to me, okay?  I’m not going anywhere.”

Sam swallows a lump building in her throat and looks down at Tucker’s hand.  She squeezes it just as tightly back.

“I don’t know how to make this better,” she whispers.  “I’m still— I can’t—” she stops.  She doesn’t think she can say that, the worst part, to Tucker.  She can barley even admit it to herself.

Tucker nudges her shoulder with his.  “I don’t know either,” he says.  “But we’re gonna figure it out together, okay?”

Sam leans heavily into Tucker’s shoulder.  She’s not sure she can actually let herself agree, but she can’t make herself disagree either.  So instead she sits there and doesn’t argue.  Tucker sits there with her, and neither of them say anything else.

…

Okay, fine.  She’ll keep Tucker.  It’s not like that fixes everything.  She doesn’t deserve to have Tucker by her side either, and he’s only there because he refuses to leave.

She’s not going to fight him on it.  She’s done enough fighting him on things.  But if Mom won’t let her be homeschooled, and Tucker won’t kick her to the curb like she deserves, then Sam is running out of options.

So, one afternoon, she gathers what wits she still has, takes the wrist ray that Danny gave her, and walks the route to his house, which she’s now wishing was a lot longer.  Either way, she gets there, and faster than she’d like, so she winds up lingering out on the doorstep for almost ten minutes, probably looking like a creepy stalker.  But she still can’t bring herself to move.

She hears movement on the other side eventually, and she’s not sure who she expects to open the door, but she gets Jazz, who doesn’t exactly look welcoming.

“Danny’s up in his room,” Jazz says.  “Either go up and talk to him or go home.  Stop hanging out on our stoop.”

Sam opens her mouth, but Jazz walks away from the door before she can say anything, leaving it sitting open.

So, Sam swallows, takes as deep a breath as she can manage, and steps inside.  Her brain starts screaming at her pretty instantly, but Sam shoves the screaming into a box in the back of her head and starts up the stairs.  She knocks on Danny’s door before Jazz can show up and tell her off again.

“Come on in,” Danny calls from inside.

Sam ignores her shaking hand and turns the knob, pushing the door open.

Danny, when he sees her in the doorway, turns in surprise from his desk.  “Sam, hey,” he says.  “I was gonna come see you in a little bit, actually.”

Sam blinks.  “You were?”

“Yeah, Tucker called and told me he was worried about you.”

Sam grits her teeth and clenches her hands into fists at her side.  “Could everyone stop talking about me behind my back, please?” she snaps, before realizing how unfair that is to say, and how especially unfair it is to say that to Danny.

Danny gives her a sympathetic smile, though, which feels worse than if he’d just called her out on it.

“We’re both worried about you, you know,” he says instead, turning to face her in his chair without standing up.

“I’m fine,” Sam says, crossing her arms that totally aren’t shaking.

Danny gives her a look like he doesn’t really believe her, but he just nods.  “Okay,” he says.  “So what’s up, then?”

“I just— I came to give this back,” Sam says.  She forces herself to walk over to Danny’s desk, pull off her wristray, and set it down next to him.

Danny looks down at it, then looks up at her, and seems to read way more than Sam wants on her face.  Either way, he shakes his head.  “Keep it,” he says, picking it up and holding it out to her.

“I don’t want it,” Sam says.

“Yes you do,” Danny says.  And now he stands up, which just results in Sam taking a step back, that thankfully neither of them acknowledge.  “Sam, I’ve done the punishing yourself by getting rid of stuff that makes you feel better.  It’s a bad idea.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Sam snaps, glaring up at Danny.

“Why are you giving it back, then?  You think we’re low on weapons?”

Sam turns her glare down to the floor.  “No.”

That turns out to be a bad idea, however, because a second later Danny says, “Then there’s no reason for you not to keep it,” and he reaches out to put it back in Sam’s hand.

The second his fingers brush against her, however, Sam leaps backwards and turns up towards him, wide-eyed and tense.

Danny pulls his hand back and looks at her in surprise and concern.

“Sam, are you okay?” he asks, holding up his hands in what’s definitely supposed to be a show of peace, which would work if he couldn’t shoot dangerous energy blasts out of her hands.

Sam takes a couple large, heaving breaths.  “Fine,” she manages, trying to will it true.

Danny gives her a deadpan look, meaning she doesn’t do a very good job.

Sam shakes her head.  “I’m fine,” she insists.  “I should be fine, I should be okay now, I can’t—” she shakes her head and takes another step back.

“What do you mean?” Danny asks hesitantly, lowering his hands to his sides, which helps a little.

“I just—” Sam runs her hands through her hair, and then starts scratching her wrist, even though she knows she probably shouldn’t.  She doesn’t say anything else.

“Sam,” Danny says, with a tone of voice that says he’s figured it out.  “Are you scared of me?”

“No,” Sam says instantly, because she hates the hurt look in his eye.  “No, you— I’m not, you’re not going to hurt me, I know that.  I know you’re not—” she shakes her head, but when she opens her mouth again nothing comes out.

“I know that,” she manages weakly after a second, but she can tell both of them see right through it.

Danny doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Sam wonders what she can say to make this any better.

“I thought maybe,” she says quietly.  “If I could just get used to being scared all the time, because I didn’t have,” she gestures at the wrist ray.  “You know, it might help.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Danny says softly.

“It might,” Sam says weakly.

“Sam, you— hang on,” Danny says.  He walks around her, giving her a wide berth, and doesn’t look back to see if Sam is following him.  He walks over to the wall under his model rockets, then turns his hand intangible and sticks it inside the wall, and pulls out what looks like a pretty heavy-duty first aid kit.

He walks back over to Sam and holds the kit out to her, and Sam blinks at it for a second, unsure why he’s handing it to her.  Danny nods down at her hand, and Sam looks down to find her wrist bleeding.

“Shit,” she mutters.

“Do you know how to wrap it one-handed?” Danny asks.

Sam bites her lip, because she doesn’t, really.  Her mom did it once, but after that time she’d just hidden it.  She’d had what she thought were more important things to worry about.

Danny looks at her in silence for a moment, seeming to get his answer.  “Can I help you, then?” he asks finally.

Sam looks up at him, meets his gaze.  The hurt is gone from his eyes, but she doesn’t understand where it went.

She takes a deep breath and nods.

So Danny opens the first aid kit and steps slowly past her, sets the wrist ray down on the desk, then pulls out some bandages.  He moves slowly, and gives Sam plenty of time to duck away, and though it doesn’t help Sam’s nerves much, she lets him wrap her wrist tightly with the bandages.

They look like good quality bandages, and a glance back at the first aid kit shows her all sorts of high quality painkillers and medical supplies, including a sewing needle and thread that look like they’re for stitches.  Sam doesn’t want to think about Danny having to use those.  She especially doesn’t want to think that she might have ever been the reason he needed to.

“Okay,” Danny says, and Sam turns around to find him taping the bandages down.  “Just don’t mess with it a bunch.  But I think you should keep this.”  He reaches slowly past her again, then picks up the wrist ray and presses it into her hand before she can argue.

“If it helps you be less scared, that’s a good thing,” he says.  “I don’t want you to be scared all the time.”

“I,” Sam says, but she doesn’t know what to follow it up with.  Then Danny looks back at her again, and she decides on, “I’m sorry.”

Danny smiles gently at her.  “I told you,” he says.  “I forgive you.  I haven’t changed my mind.”

“No, I mean I— I shouldn’t be scared of you,” Sam says, then winces.  She hadn’t meant to say the actual problem out loud.

But now it’s out there, so she just shakes her head and keeps going.  “You haven’t done anything,” she says.

“No, but you thought I did,” Danny says quietly.  “And there was that whole thing with Freakshow and the crystal ball.  And that wasn’t a great start.”

Sam doesn’t argue with him.  Tucker showed her the things he’d found in Vlad’s lab on the way home from it, including the crystal ball that could control ghosts.  It’s such a simple and straightforward solution to all of the perceived problems that it only makes Sam feel worse when she thinks about it.

“Sam,” Danny says, pulling her out of her thoughts and the guilt that came with them.  “It’s okay.”

Sam stares at him.  “No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” Danny insists.  “Or— I’m not going to hold it against you, I mean.  We can figure it out together.”

Sam looks down.  God, she doesn’t deserve someone like Danny.

“Hey,” Danny says.  “I’m gonna invite Tucker over.  It’s been too long since we just hung out together and did fun stuff.  We can start there.”

Sam shakes her head.  “I don’t know,” she mutters.

“I do,” Danny says.  “Let’s just… take it slow.  Okay?”

Sam looks up at him again, and sees the hurt creeping in around his eyes again.

And it’s that, the fact that he’s not trying to ignore it or hide it from her, that lets her nod.

…

Sam’s not going to pretend the awkwardness isn’t obvious, but it’s not as bad as she expected.  It’s not choking the room, and they’re able to actually play Doomed like they want to.  There are fewer jokes made and no casual teasing, but it’s better than Sam thought she’d ever get to have with Danny again.

She finds herself glancing at him throughout the game, and she’s not sure if he’s really not noticing or just pretending.  But either way, she takes in the decent smile on his face and the way that at least the three of them can have each other’s backs in the game, and finds some comfort in that.

For the longest time, she really had thought Danny was gone in any way that mattered.  Getting to actually hang out with him again and know it’s him, it’s… well, she can find a little hope in it, which is more than she ever thought she’d get.

She’s not sure if she’s expecting everything to come up again, but she knows she’s not going to say anything, and she knows Tucker isn’t either.

Danny must have at least something to say, because after they finish level 7 and decide to switch to a movie, he stops before leading them out to the kitchen to make popcorn.

“Hey,” he says, turning back around to face them.  “I want you guys to know something.”

Sam exchanges a glance with Tucker, and finds the same apprehension on his face.  After a second, Tucker turns back to Danny and nods.

“Okay,” he says, and after a second, Sam turns to face Danny too.

“I don’t know if this is something you’re worried about,” Danny says.  “I know I would be.  But Vlad’s not going to come near you again, okay?  I made sure of it.”

Sam’s not quite sure what to say to that.

It seems Tucker feels the same, because after a second he says, “What do you mean you made sure of it?”

“Just that,” Danny says.  “I made sure he knows not to.  I also got a little too mad and accidentally unlocked a new ghost power, but uh, that part isn’t important.  Just, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.  He won’t come near you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sam says quietly.

“Yes I did,” Danny responds instantly.  “Look, Vlad and I might have this whole arch nemesis thing going on, but that’s between us.  He was not allowed to do that to you.  You weren’t supposed to be involved.  You were supposed to be safe.  That’s the whole reason I didn’t tell you anything—” Danny stops, and takes a deep breath, which is good because Sam can feel her nerves starting to spike.

“That’s the reason I didn’t tell you anything,” Danny repeats, much calmer.  “And… I’m sorry.”

Sam’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.  “Danny, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” she says.

“Yeah dude, you— this is on us,” Tucker says.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Danny shrugs.  “Well, agree to disagree then.  If I’d trusted you earlier, I don’t think any of this would have happened.  So I’m sorry that I didn’t.  I won’t make that mistake a second time.”  He glares away, a dark look in his eyes that Sam doesn’t think she’s ever seen before.  “And Vlad is never going to come near you again.”

Sam doesn’t know quite what to say at first.  Out of everything she’s expected after realizing the truth, “Danny being mad on their behalf,” hasn’t even come close to making the list.  He… how serious is he when he says he still wants them around?  Does he really not think this thing is damaged beyond repair?  Does he think they can fix this?

…Can they fix this?  Can she want to?

Sam, in all honesty, has no idea.

But she wants to find out.

So she brushes her fingers over the bandages Danny wrapped around her wrist, raises her gaze to look at him, and says, “Thanks, Danny.”

[amesliu]

hope you’re doing okay ames 😔 no sohae update and no post abt it makes me scared! pls take care of urself

I’m fine thank you 😭

I just had VanCAF last weekend and I have some contract work to do so I haven’t had time to work on SOHAE. But we will be back to our regularly scheduled program shortly.

[kovajean]

As an apology for my lack of original posting: Here is a KK3 Daniel edit that I made a few weeks back which cured my insomnia because it brought me so much happiness that my brain calmed itself down and I had one of the best night sleeps of my life. Thank you Daniel. We will be back to our regularly scheduled program shortly

[star-eyed-angels]

Anyways, apologies for the dramatics, I’m doing my best to process the hurt. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming shortly. I’m seeing Woosung tomorrow so I’m hoping that’ll brighten me up just a bit🌹

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

Mafumom, alledgedly, spilled something on Mafuyu's laptop and told her that's why it's gone now, when she was cracking down on Mafuyu's N25 activity. She "sent it away for repairs" and got away with it all.

But this exchange, it implies Mafuyu's dad knew that had been a lie, that the computer was hidden, never damaged, and I think some part of Mafuyu knows it too; she checked all her files to see if her mom deleted any.

[monsoongibby]

Romy? Nah, Ro/Me

I'm just gonna put this out there. I love Rogue. Not just in the sense of "she's my favorite character", but in the way a man loves his wife. I've loved her since high school in the early 90's, so that's a bit more than 30 years. My head knows she's not real, but my heart doesn't care.

Way back in the day, I wrote a wish fulfillment self-insert fanfic in first-person perspective from my own point of view about me gaining mutant powers, going to New York, becoming an X-Man, and getting together with Rogue thanks to one of my powers being a convenient immunity to her powers. I uploaded it to the Internet and it was not well received. I don't know if anyone else out there was around on Usenet newsgroups (rec.arts.comics.marvel.xbooks was the big one for general discussion, I forget what the one for fanfiction was called) or The Stripe (a Rogue fan club/mailing list).

Shortly after watching the first season of X-Men '97 I was inspired to start writing another wish fulfillment self-insert fanfic, only this time it's first-person from Rogue's point of view; she somehow comes to our world from the comics circa 1994 (shortly after Scott and Jean's wedding), so her relationship with Gambit never went beyond tolerating his presence and shaking her head at his advances. Once again we find that I'm conveniently immune to her powers, and despite the fact that I've been happily married for the last 17 years I still get with Rogue while my wife encourages us. I don't think this one will find its way onto the Internet thanks to the reception I got from the last one.

If it weren't for their relationship, I would have no problem with Gambit. Logically I know they're both fictional characters, but that doesn't stop me from being jealous of Gambit and/or seeing him as a rival for Rogue's affections. (Learning that they got married a few years ago left me with odd emotions; was I more upset that they were married and that Rogue was "off the market", or was I more upset by the fact that this news upset me?) I dislike him, and there was the tiniest part of me (ghoulish as it sounds) that was glad to see what happened to him in X-Men 97; that tiny part was drowned out by the part of me that doesn't like to see Rogue cry, and by the fact that one should not celebrate such things.

Anyway, just getting that off my chest. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

[arieslost]

okay guys i’m going to be working hard on requests and a celebration event for the next week so our regularly scheduled programming will be back shortly I PROMISE

[cycle-verse]

Alright guys, here's what's up:

We have been trying so hard to go all the way back in our storyline to find *everything* we've done, but of course, Tumblr is incompetent and we've lost our progress 3 times.

Please note that we are not giving up on this, it may simply be a but before we update again due to what we're trying to do. Consider this a hiatus and please have patience, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program shortly ^-^

[gotham-crusader]

Back with my laptop, so we will return shortly to our regularly scheduled programming.

minor hiatus notice

Just letting y’all know that I won’t have access to my laptop for a few days so no replies for a few days from me.

With that in mind, like this post if I’m allowed to occasionally send stuff to your inbox for the next few days.

[napsaps-archive]

my response to the drituation was kinda funny bcus i had a super extreme trauma response and then went oh wait and took my anti-anxiety meds that knock me the fuck out, spent a few days logged out, formed my own opinions, and realized its not the end of the world actually

IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD ACTUALLY!!! like i fully understand (...partly understand) why people were/are so upset over it like i GET IT but at the end of the day i feel like none of it was worth all the shit (i cannot think of another way to phrase this. basically i don't think this should have been a friendship deal breaker but whatever) that followed it tbh