#I also know the pandemic plays a part in this because no one was going to the movies in ‘20

[daisyblog]

Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”. 

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life. 

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”. 

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”. 

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”. 

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album. 

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice. 

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”. 

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”. 

Tag List:

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[alwaysbewoke]

our entire political system is flawed, but

you're not going to change it in one election to perfection; what you can absolutely do is make everything worse in one election. also, you can acknowledge that the system needs work and that you want more without lying and pretending as if it has produced nothing positive for you. the problem right now with many people is that you guys want an instant solution. you want an instant fix. however, there is no such thing. there will not be one election or one candidate or one bill that's going to fix this. this is going to take long-term, strategic, methodical work for us to make it right, and i can tell right now that many people are not up for the task. they're too weak, but they won't be weak enough to complain, make videos, tweets, ig posts, reels, tiktoks, blog posts and whatever whining when shit hits the fan. they'll be the first ones howling at the moon and gnashing their teeth without taking responsibility for the part they played in the shitstorm.

here's some simple advice: pack the senate and congress with hardcore progressives. hardcore progressives. and then go to your local election and pack that with hardcore progressives again. but by no means should any of us accept any talk or strategy that gives the republicans power. at some point, you've got to stop playing checkers in a chess game.

however, the problem is this point of view should have been adopted in 2016. i fear that it might actually be too late because people played checkers in the chess game knowing full well that whoever won that election was going to have at least one supreme court pick. that winner actually got three and now has set this country back for the foreseeable future. generations are going to be feeling that pain. we missed out on critical years to address climate change. the voting rights of black people have been completely undermined. the educational opportunities for black people have also been undermined. discrimination against gay people has been affirmed. we saw the death of millions of americans at the hands of a global pandemic that was profoundly mishandled, and yet having seen and experience all of this people are willing to entertain the idea of allowing those in power who did all this to get even more power again. UNBELIEVABLE! people like that deserve ridicule.

if you actually care about black lives, people of color, trans rights, gay rights, healthcare, education, palestine, dr congo, police brutality, child poverty, climate change, restoring democracy, voting rights, equitable access to all levels of education, ending the prison industrial complex, women's rights, and etc do not entertain any talk about taking actions that will give republicans power. not in the short term. not in the long term. don't let your anger and your disappointment force your hand into making things worse for yourself and others. there's already been widespread voter suppression so if you think you're going to give republicans all that power and then vote to take it away from them down the line when everything is more to your liking, you are delusional. if you really want to change things (like for real, you're not just talking shit about "progress"),here are some insightful videos:

#FuckBidenButHellToTheNoOnAnyRepublican

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.1

masterlist

ellie williams x fem! reader (ur kind of a girly girl in this one sorry)

summary: you’re one of the luckiest people in the world as one of the few families that managed to gain entrance to the most exclusive safezone on earth. after living 19 years of your life in a soft and forgiving world, a lab accident sends you across the country to jackson, wyoming, entirely unprepared and unaware of what awaits you in the real world. its a good thing u run into a hot lesbian wink wink nudge nudge

a/n: now listen now hear me out i know this plot sounds kooky asf and im sorry i literally thought this shit up in a covid fever dream. but anyway i basically blacked out at the keyboard and have about 6k words to show for this weekend and no completed hw. i can’t believe im writing. this im so sorry

warnings: ellie is mean asf at first, reader is clueless and cannot do a pushup, you’re also a little bit of a snob and have a fixation on etiquette.  i promise it gets better just bear w me lMAO. she/her pronouns for the reader, v vanilla violence and explicit language. kinda enemies to lovers vibe

im so sorry u guys idk what got into me this is the goofiest au i’ve ever written ok but i just want ellie to get to learn abt the stars and shit after all she’s been thru she deserves it ok enjoy part 2 coming whenever i finish it.

wc: 6k

It wasn’t that you didn’t know that something bad had happened to the rest of the world. You did. Of course you did. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to not realize that there was maybe something else going on when no one was allowed outside of the walls and anyone who returned told hushed stories of decimated buildings and piles of corpses.

It was just difficult to grasp the idea of the world you knew no longer existing outside the bounds of the city. To anyone before the pandemic, you’re sure that you lead what seemed like a normal life for any privileged kid.

You had two parents, both of whom loved you very much. You went to an elementary school, then a middle school, and then eventually high school and university. You went shopping with your friends. You watched movies and ate shitty junk food and had first kisses and went on ice cream dates. You studied what captivated your interest the most—space—and threw your soul into learning about the physics of the universe.

You laid on your dorm bed, playing with the edges of your pink comforter as you gossiped with your roommate, Irena, about the professor that she thought was hot and the boy who tried to harass you for your number after you’d finished up getting lunch.

You lived a normal life, which is pretty ironic, because the only reason you got to say that was because you were born to not-normal people who had been at the right place at the right time when the world fell apart.

You see, when everyone got sick, some areas got hit harder than others. And your parents, who were vacationing in some swanky exclusive Canadian resort that only the elite knew about, happened to hit the jackpot.

Not only was their vacation spot the one area in North America with a significant metropolitan population that managed to get enough time to adequately prepare, they happened to be traveling with some big-wig execs that knew a guy who knew a guy who was in the process of evacuating and putting the final touches on a safe zone, Terranova, intended for only the highest rungs of North American society.

So, there you were. Some 25 years or so after the world as your ancestors knew it fell to shit—and you were sipping cappuccinos and getting facials without a care in the world. All because of a lucky vacation.

And, for the record, it’s not that you were ungrateful. You knew that you were lucky to be living in the last place on earth with a semblance of normalcy. What you didn’t know, however, was just how lucky you were, and you didn’t find this out until you made that one stupid mistake in Gunther’s lab.

~

“Morning, Y/N!” called out Professor Gunther, a short, squatty man with a receding hairline so impressive that his forehead now ended halfway up his scalp.

“Morning, Professor,” you said, setting your bag down on the desk, winding your long scarf from around your neck and running a hand through your hair to get the tangles out. The wind outside had been especially fierce for February, which was not ideal given that you'd forgotten your hat at home.

“Guess what I’ve got?” Gunther was smiling, his teeth perfect white squares.

You gasped. “No. It’s already here?”

He said nothing; instead, he pushed forward a slightly battered box with dents and various smudges and marks that were telltale indicators for outside shipments.

“No way,” you said, pulling it into your hands. For a moment you debated using your nails to open the seam, but you’d just gotten them done, so you reached for a pair of scissors on the table.

“This is even more than we need,” you told Gunther, reaching in to pull out a spool of wire that shimmered under the lab lights. “Can I just hook it up now? Or is there something else I should do?”

There was, in fact, something that you should’ve done before going with your pliers and wire. Something about your model wasn’t quite right, but you’d figure that out a little too late.

You see, you and old Professor Gunther were attempting to build a prototype that would enable travel at the speed of light. It did sound insane—and you should’ve known that it was a pipe dream—but you were a space nerd with nearly limitless funding and support from one of the most famous surviving professors in the world. It had been Gunther’s pet project, one that you joined as a research assistant in your first year at the university. Once you’d caught wind of it, you couldn’t stay away, and you two quickly began to form a connection only understood by lonely and isolated academics.

“Go for it,” said Gunther, waving his hand dismissively.

Excitedly, you approached the table, your hands almost shaking as you held the wire. It was a fairly new invention, first used in the creation of Terranova and its walls to effectively make it invisible to the outside world. It boasted a variety of properties that made it academically fascinating and functionally useful. Gunther had had a suspicion that it would be useful in stabilizing the process of disseminating atoms to make light speed travel possible, so you’d placed the order for a couple of spools.

“And I think that’s it,” you said, using your pliers to shape the blunt edge that you had just clipped and plugging it into the circuit board. A purple sheen seemed to vibrate around the bundle of wires and boxes.

Gunther leaned over your shoulder, peering at everything through the spectacles perched on his pudgy nose. “Well done, dear. Say, before we turn this thing on and start running some preliminary tests, would you mind grabbing us some tea from the caf? My treat.”

“Of course,” you said, standing up and brushing your hands off. “Lapsang?”

He nodded. “And anything you’d like.”

You pulled my scarf back on, pulling it snugly around your neck and snatching your bag from the table. The walk to the cafeteria was short, but it was cold enough to require suiting up again. You ordered, paid with Gunther’s card, and sat quietly as you watched the snow fall outside.

It was a beautiful morning. The wind had died down, leaving the snow to fall from the gray skies in fat, puffy flakes. The city outside was quiet, with only the gentle hum of the occasional car to break the silence.

“Y/N! A Lapsang Souchong and a Jasmine Green?”

You leapt up and grabbed the two disposable cups, smiling widely at the barista. “Hey, would you mind throwing a bag of coffee in too?”

“Anything specific?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything about coffee,” you admitted. “Anything that isn’t decaf. It’s for my roommate.”

He nodded and rang you up for the coffee, and you were back on your way.

“My dear!” boomed Gunther when you came back, throwing the lab door open and nearly floating off the ground in excitement.

“Lapsang with a spot of honey, as always,” you said, passing the cup into his hands. The bite from the heat slowly faded from your palm—the barista had forgotten to put a sleeve on his cup.

“Lovely,” he said, setting it down next to you. “I’m just going to go ahead and flip the switch…keep your wits about you! Haha.”

“Ha,” you said, though suddenly you were getting more nervous. The longer you looked at the wires, the less sense they made. And was that two uncovered wires touching? ”Hey, wait, actually—”

Click.

A hum filled the room as the power flicked on. The bright white overhead lights flickered once, twice, and then went out. Something that smelled suspiciously like smoke filled the room.

“Fuck!” Gunther fumbled for the switch. You, similarly, lunged forward to see if you could manually disconnect the wires from the input. “It’s short circ—”

As soon as you made contact with the input wire, you heard the sound of a cup tipping over seconds before the splashing of hot tea.

Then everything went black.

~

When you awoke, it was because you were shaking so hard that your teeth were clicking painfully together.

Slowly, you pulled open my eyelids to see a brilliantly blue sky without a cloud in sight, wide and unimpeded by any skyscrapers. This was definitely not Gunther’s lab.

You groaned as feeling began to return to your body, along with a thudding headache and soreness in every joint. Gently, you pressed your weight into your fingers and slowly sat yourself up, making observations as you went.

You were not dead. Your heart was still beating and your nerves still functioned as usual. You had no idea how long you'd been lying on the ground, but it had to have been at least an hour given that the sun was almost in the middle of the sky.

Another observation: you were nowhere near Terranova.

Instead, you were in the clearing of a forest, surrounded by trees with unfamiliar trunk patterns and leaves. A thick bed of white snow coated everything in sight except for you.

You were well and truly fucked. There was nowhere even remotely nearby the city that you knew was in a fully forested area.

Though at least now you held the title of the first person alive to travel at light speed. It was a small comfort, but it was something to cling to.

A shriek sounded behind you, and you spun around, still seated on the ground. The forest line was clear, but you could hear rustling. For a moment you considered that it could be an animal, but it didn’t sound like any woodland creature. It sounded unmistakably human.

“Hello?” you called out.

The shriek came again, accompanied by more crunching—both much closer this time.

“Are you alright?” you asked, hoping your voice would carry to whoever it was. “Are you hurt?”

A mangled man suddenly came into sight as he fell into the clearing from a lopsided sprint, barreling right towards you. One of his knees was bent outwards as he went, so badly it looked broken, but it wasn’t enough to slow him down as he ran towards you.

You screamed, a real and proper one that pierced the frigid air. There was no time for to run as the man closed the gap and rammed into you, his filthy hands gripping your arms through your heavy jacket as his snapping teeth and rancid breath lunged for your neck.

Bang!

A single shot rang out. The man fell limp, slumping on top of you as you frantically snapped into motion and scrambled out from under him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You whipped back around to see a girl standing at the other side of the clearing, a revolver in her hand and an incredibly cross expression etched into her features. She must’ve been around your age, and she had short auburn hair that barely brushed her shoulders and was being tossed about by the wind. There was a spattering of freckles across her face, muted against the backdrop of her cheeks reddened from exertion.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small and pathetic. You couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m Y/N.”

The girl just stared at you for a few more beats before turning back. “Jesse! Dina! Some help?”

You pulled your knees into your chest as you waited for whatever was to come. Now that the man was off of you, you could see that there was blood trickling from his gaping maw. Something that looked almost like shards had sprouted, like little spring buds, in little areas around his face. Even his normal, unshard-ed skin was a pallor that looked like death. Something wasn’t right here.

“Okay,” said the girl, gruffer this time. “Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are just waltzing in like this, but this isn’t open to the public, alright? You’re trespassing.”

“Sorry,” you said, shrinking further into yourself as you thumbed the edges of your scarf. “I didn’t know.”

“Get the hell out of here,” she said, grabbing your backpack from the ground near her feet and throwing it at you.

Two other people emerged from the trees, another girl and one guy. They all seemed roughly the same age—early 20s, maybe—and were all carrying various weapons ranging from guns to knives.

To say you were on edge would be the understatement of the century.

They spoke in hushed tones as they approached the first girl.

“I don’t understand,” the other girl said, long black locks escaping from her ponytail. “We literally just patrolled this area. There’s no way to get here without either going through the town or going over the pass, and no one’s done that.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see her then?” The boy looked curiously at you.

“Fucking obviously,” snapped the first girl. “I think we would’ve noticed.” Then, directed at you: “Hey. How’d you even wind up here?”

“Uh….” Your mouth became dry. “Where am I again?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t even know?”

“Ellie,” warned the other girl. “Maybe she’s been out here for a while. Hypothermia can make you think crazy things.”

“She doesn’t look like she’s been out here for long,” pointed out the first girl, presumably Ellie.

“You’re right outside Jackson,” said the other girl helpfully.

“How close am I to Terranova?”

“The fuck is Terra-whatta?” Ellie frowned at you.

“Where I live,” you said. “I—I’m a student there. I was working on a project and something went wrong and then all of a sudden I woke up here and—what is that thing?” You gestured frantically at the limp body of the man beside you, the shock slowly subsiding as reality set in. “He almost killed me!”

Ellie gaped at you along with her two friends. “What do you mean, what is that thing? Have you never seen a runner before?”

“A runner?” You stared back. “These things are normal enough for you to have a name for them?”

“Oh my god,” said Ellie, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Have you, like, never been outside before?”

“No,” you said, honestly. “I’ve never left the city walls.”

“We have got to take her back with us,” said the other girl.

“Dina.” Ellie scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dina’s right,” said the guy, finally chiming in. “We can’t just leave her out here. She doesn’t even know what a runner is. She’s gonna be killed like that.”

Ellie considered, gnawing her lip. “Fine. Consider this your lucky day, Y/N. Get up.”

The first thing you did upon reaching your feet was faint once again.

~

“I told you, Joel, we just found her like this! Lying on the ground, with nothing but her bag.”

A man said something that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Yes. I went through it. No weapons, just…weird things. Like this.”

Your eyes snapped open to see Dina rooting around in your backpack, pulling out your laptop. You were laid horizontally on a table in some warmly lit home.

“Hey!” you said. She turned around, along with a tall, buff man at her side. “Be careful with that. That has all my homework on it.”

“See?” Dina whispered. “Do you think she hit her head or something, Joel?”

Joel frowned, picking up your laptop despite your protests. “I haven’t seen one of these in…I can’t even remember how long. And I’ve never seen one this slim before. Where’d you say you got this, er…”

“Y/N,” Dina supplied.

“From my university,” you said. There was a fire that crackled somewhere behind you, and it sounded comforting. “They provide all students with laptops. That’s how we do most of our schoolwork.”

“Let me guess,” said Joel. “You from the North? A place called Terra Something?”

“That’s a real thing?” Ellie came from around the corner, standing with her arms crossed. She’d changed out of her heavy winter coat and was instead wearing a dark gray hoodie with the strings tied into a bow.

“Never been there myself,” he said. “But when I was doing supply runs back in Boston we always heard whispers of a safezone in Canada. For rich assholes who had some even richer survivalist friends. The Fireflies attempted to break in for years, but they could never find it.”

“So, like a QZ?” asked Ellie, looking genuinely curious.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. No one acknowledged it.

“Not quite,” said Joel. “No FEDRA. With no military presence, I’m sure it was a hell of a lot cushier living there. Wasn’t it, Y/N?”

“I don’t have anything to compare it to,” you said. “But, yeah. I guess it was nice. It was just normal, I guess. Nothing extraordinary.”

“You’re wearing a cashmere scarf,” Joel pointed out. “That’s not what I’d call normal in the apocalypse.”

You blushed, pulling at the fringes of said black scarf. The fabric was thin and soft, impossibly warm against your bare neck. “It didn’t—it doesn’t feel like the apocalypse in Terranova.”

“And how’d you make it all the way out here?”

“I’m a research assistant for a professor attempting to invent travel at the speed of light,” you said. “We just hooked it up to a different wire today. It short-circuited and when my professor and I rushed to shut it off, he spilled his tea on me and the prototype. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

Joel blinked. “What now?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” you said, defensively pulling your knees to your chest. “But I’m telling the truth, honestly. Plus, look at me.” You let go of your scarf and held out your hands, letting the glow of the fire catch the immaculate pearl polish on your fingers. “Do I look like someone who’s traveled from Canada to wherever I am now?”

“She’s got a point,” said Dina, nodding thoughtfully. “It really must be nice where you come from to have hands like that. It doesn’t look like you’ve done a day of work in your life. Reckon you could take us back with you?”

Joel sent her a stern look. “What did you parents do to gain access to a place like that? You the daughter of the president or something?”

“No. They just got lucky,” you explained. “They were summering in Canada and happened to befriend the founders of Terranova right before outbreak day.”

“‘Summering’,” repeated Joel. “It’s been a while since I heard someone use a season as a verb. Somehow it’s not been long enough.”

You cringed.

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little disappointing to hear that folks like your parents are still living in the lap of luxury, even after the world ended,” said Joel. “A part of me hoped that karma would get ‘em.”

“I didn’t realize how bad it was out here,” you said defensively. “They didn’t even tell me about…what was that that tried to kill me out there? Walkers?”

“Runners,” Ellie supplied. She watched you quietly from her position leaning up against the couch.

“You ran into one?” asked Joel, another wrinkle appearing in his forehead. “Ellie, have you checked her for bites?”

Ellie’s freckled face paled as she swore. “Fuck. No, I forgot. I should’ve done it in the clearing.”

“Well, better now than never. Listen, I gotta meet up with Tommy. You check ‘er. You got a gun ready, just in case?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, looking thoroughly scandalized. “What do you mean, just in case?”

“I’ll be outside,” said Dina, following Joel as he left the door.

“How come it’s my job?” Ellie called after them. “No one asked me how I felt about this!”

The door banged shut in reply. She turned back to face you, her lips set into a firm line. “Fine. Take your coat off. Let’s make this quick.”

“I didn’t feel anything bite me,” you said, grabbing your knees tighter to your chest. Ellie was intimidating and scary, and you rather liked how you currently wore an extra layer of protection.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say.” She walked over to you, grabbing your scarf and unwinding it from your neck. “Shit. Is this what Joel called cashmere?”

“Yeah,” you said, watching as she stared at the fabric pooled in her hands. “It’s nothing special, really. Everyone wears them in Terranova.”

Ellie stared at you. “Can you stop saying Terranova? I swear it’s every third word that comes out of your mouth. I honestly couldn’t give a shit about whatever fantasyland you grew up in while the rest of us dealt with the real world.”

You opened your mouth, then thought better of it and closed it. It was discombobulating to hear a stranger swear so often at you.

Ellie knocked your hands from your knees and stared down at you. “Are you actually gonna make me take off everything myself? Do they have hired help to unzip your coats in Terra Novella?”

“Terranova.”

Ellie let out a sharp sigh, then lunged for the zipper near your throat.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you said, yanking yourself away and pulling your zipper down to reveal your standard lab outfit—a satiny button up shirt tucked into slacks. You pulled the rest of your puffer off, letting it drop in a pile next to you.

“So,” you said as Ellie grabbed your arm, gently rolling up the fabric of your blouse and turning your forearm back and forth, “Is this, like, a normal thing? To have deranged people in the woods attack you like that?”

“They’re not people,” she said quietly. Satisfied with your left arm, she moved to the next and let your unbuttoned sleeve fall. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie’s fingers encircled your right wrist as she fiddled with your sleeve. They were warm as they brushed across your skin, just barely touching you. “You really don’t know? I thought you at least knew about outbreak day.”

“Of course I know about outbreak day,” you said defensively. “I’m not stupid.”

Ellie arched a brow.

“They told us that it was a virus,” you added. “That it was lethal and incredibly infectious. Is that not what happened?”

“It’s not a virus, it’s a fungus,” corrected Ellie, letting go of your sleeve and stepping back as you redid the buttons at your wrist. “And it doesn’t just kill. It turns you into—into something like what you saw today. You lose your mind. The only thing that matters to you is biting everyone and spreading the infection.”

“Oh.”

“I saw you get tackled. Did your legs get scratched up at all?”

“No,” you responded, feeling thankful that you wouldn’t need to take your pants off. In that moment, literally nothing seemed more embarrassing. Your hands had begun to shake again.

“Didn’t think so.”

“If it had bitten me, would that mean that I…I would get sick too?”

“Nice going, Sherlock,” said Ellie, returning to her spot against the couch. “Really stellar reasoning skills there.”

You pulled your knees back into your chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. All this time you’d thought it was just a virus—a measly virus that killed. That it could be anything else had never occurred to you.

“Keep shaking and I’m going to start to think that you were bitten.” She smiled thinly at you from across the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your teeth bouncing against each other once before you clenched your jaw. “Please cut me some slack. This is just a lot to take in. If you’ll recall, I’ve just been the first person in history to undergo atomic dissolution and reassembly. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Ellie, her eyes narrowed. “It’s a wonder any of us are alive.”

Your lips pressed tightly together as you sat, trying your best not to lose it at her. You’d always been brought up to be kind, to be forgiving and sweet and polite. After all, there was never any reason not to be. Terranova’s culture put a heavy emphasis on keeping the peace no matter what. Your parents rarely ever raised their voices. Your professors kindly and respectfully asked their pupils to settle down if they were too noisy, but since you were all brought up with impeccable manners, such instances were few and far between. It just wasn’t a thing to chew strangers out. Such behavior was only reserved for extraordinary situations of the like you’d never experienced. Speaking of manners…

“Thank you,” you said, finally. Yeah, you could be the bigger person.

Ellie’s gaze snapped up to you, her brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“For saving me,” you clarified, avoiding her eyes. They were uncomfortably piercing. “Sorry. I should’ve thanked you earlier. That was rude of me. And I’m also sorry for just barging in here. I promise it wasn’t on purpose. Trust me, I would do anything to be back home right now.”

“I bet you would.” Her eyes dropped briefly to your hands, unblemished and smooth as they clutched your knees. Not even a cuticle was out of place, a result of your weekly manicures and daily lotion habit.

“Sorry,” you said again, feeling heat rise in your cheeks once again. “I probably sound so insufferable and spoiled to you.”  

“Just—” She paused, frowning. “Just stop apologizing. It’s fine. It’s not your fault, or whatever.” The words seemed to pain her.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. Now that you’d had a moment to draw in a few deep breaths, your hands were steady once again.

“Quarantine Zone,” said Ellie. “Established by what was left of the government for those of us normal people. There are a couple scattered around the country in the big cities.”

“Did you live in one? What’re they like?”

She was about to answer when the door banged open.

“Ellie!” Dina’s voice was breathless. “Joel wants me and you to go out and finish the patrol route together. She alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, hanging your legs off the table and reaching for your puffer.

“God, I fucking love that shirt,” said Dina. “Can I touch it? It looks so soft.”

You had a feeling that you would get on well with her. “Sure.”

“It’s not that soft,” said Ellie from the couch.

“Shut up, Ellie!” Dina walked over to you, grabbing the dangling fabric from your loose sleeves and letting it thread through her fingers. “Sorry about her, Y/N. She’s just like that sometimes.”

“Dina!”

Dina ignored Ellie’s protests, giving you a look full of mirth as she stepped back. “For the record, it was that soft.”

“You couldn’t wear it anywhere,” argued Ellie. “It looks ridiculous. Infected would just snag right onto the sleeves. That’s only if you didn’t get tangled up in a tree from all that loose fabric first.”

“There’s not an abundance of trees or sick fungus people in my research lab,” you said awkwardly. “So that’s not really something that crossed my mind when I got ready this morning.”

“Ha!” Dina’s eyes scrunched. “Ellie, be nice. Maybe she’ll claim us both as her long-lost sisters and get us into wherever she came from, but she’s not gonna if you keep acting like this.”

“It’s okay,” you said, shrugging. “I get it. I can’t even begin to imagine how much different your lives are out here. And, I mean, I probably could if you wanted. I’m pretty sure that all you need is a connection and a negative test for whatever the fungus is called.”

“See?” Dina gestured towards you. “Listen to her. She’s so wholesome.”

“I’d be wholesome too if I led the kind of life where I didn’t know about the infected and got to wear dumb shirts like that all day.”

Dina huffed. “Listen, Y/N, Ellie and I are gonna finish up with patrolling. I’m assuming you want to stay in Jackson until you figure everything out?”

You nodded. “If that’s alright. I don’t mean to impose.”

“We’ll talk to Maria and Tommy once we get back and see about getting you set up somewhere temporarily,” said Dina. “For now, you can just stay at Ellie’s until we finish up. Sound good?”

“Dina!” protested Ellie. “You’re just gonna leave her here unattended without even asking me?”

“What’s she gonna do? Ransack the town? With what weapon, Ellie? Her bare hands? She looks like she’d be blown over if I breathed too hard in her direction.”

You flushed. Sure, you’d never really seen much of a point of bulking up and working out when you were nothing but a student who spent all of her time goofing off with wires and telescopes, but it was humbling to have it pointed out so blatantly.

“She wouldn’t make it a day outside,” continued Dina. “I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try anything. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You blinked. “I mean, yeah. I’ve never spent a day without electricity and hot running water, so I’m not really clambering to leave and live in the woods.”

Ellie sighed sharply. “Fine. Cool. Whatever. Just stay where you are, okay? And don’t even think about touching anything.”

~

By the time that she returned with Joel, you were sitting at the table, 2 chapters deep into the one textbook you’d brought along with you for one of your courses.

“Glad to see the house still standing,” Joel quipped as he worked his heavy coat off his shoulders and pulled his boots off. Ellie trailed behind him, hanging up her coat and pulling off a pair of black gloves. “Ellie was concerned you’d raze the whole town.”

“I’m honored that she thinks me so capable,” you said in response, wincing as you had to dogear your textbook, your bookmarks and sticky notes tucked safely in your dorm desk far away.

Ellie sent you an irritated look before her gaze dropped to the textbook in your lap. It lingered for a moment, just long enough for you to know that she was reading the title Exoplanetary Systems.

“Tommy and Maria have decided to let you stay until you get back on your feet,” said Joel, oblivious to the hostility coming from Ellie. “There’s a cottage down the street that’ll be ready for you to move into soon. For now, you can stay with us. There’s an extra room across the hall from Ellie’s.”

“That’s too kind of you,” you said, your voice smooth and gracious after years of having your manners picked apart by your parents.  

Joel looked mildly uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah. Don’t mention it. You know how to ride a horse?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good,” said Joel. “Can you shoot, too?”

You stared. “Uh, shoot what?”

“A gun,” said Ellie slowly. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth contorted into a scowl. She did not seem overjoyed at the prospect of a new housemate.

“No,” you said. Your ears felt like they were on fire. “There’s, uh, a strict ban on guns in Terr–where I grew up. There was no reason to shoot anything.”

Joel whistled. “Well, imagine that. So maybe we won’t put you on patrol just yet. We’ll find something else for you to do. Got any other skills?”

Before you answered, Joel picked up your bag and peered inside of it. “Say, is this a bag of coffee?”

He pulled out the bag of coffee grinds that you’d picked up at the cafe.

“Yeah!” you said. “Before the, uh, accident, my professor sent me to get him tea from the cafeteria. I ended up picking those up since my roommate and I were out. You drink coffee?”

“Not much anymore,” said Joel, picking up the bag and weighing it back and forth. “It’s hard to come by out here. You have to pay an arm and a leg to get just a bit. I haven’t seen a bag like this since before the outbreak.”

“It’s yours,” you said quickly. “I don’t even really like coffee. I just drank it because my roommate would make me a cup.”

Joel shook his head and placed it back in your bag. “No, I couldn’t do that. I’d probably have to trade my whole arsenal plus a horse to get something this big.”

“Please, I insist,” you said. “It’s the least I can do. It’s just going to sit in my bag anyway. You’d appreciate it more.”

“Well…” Joel gave you a considering look. “I s’pose this could cover your work for a few weeks until either we find another job for you or Ellie teaches you to shoot.”

“Joel!” Ellie interjected. “I have my own shit to do.”

“That’s really generous of you,” you said, smiling at Joel. “But you could honestly just take the bag—no need to offer any reimbursement.”

Joel grunted and picked the bag up again, slinging it onto the counter behind him. “Maria’s never gonna believe me until she sees this. Full bag of monsoon malabar…didn’t even think they had that shit anymore…” He continued to mumble to himself as he shuffled around, opening and closing cabinets behind you.

When you looked back up, Ellie was staring again at your book, a line in her brow.

“You can borrow it, if you’d like.” You pushed the book towards her as a poor attempt to call a truce between you two. “It’s not like I actually need to do the reading anymore. I’m already missing lecture.”

You winced at the thought of getting behind in your classes. In the very likely case you weren’t getting back in the next few days, you’d probably need to take a gap semester and return in the fall, delaying your graduation date another 4 months. Your parents were going to kill you. This was going to create an unfillable hole in your resume. “Shooting a gun” and “riding horses” were not acceptable activities to explain away why you took a whole season off.

“No thanks,” said Ellie, pushing it back to you. “Keep it. I don’t want it.”

“It’s about solar systems outside of our locale,” you continued. “There’s a bunch of them. It’s actually really interesting.”

“It doesn’t really sound like it,” she said, but there was no venom behind her voice—just something that sounded like exhaustion.  

“Maybe not.” You sighed, deflated. So much for a white flag. “I guess it must seem pretty ridiculous to you.”

Ellie stood there, her arms still crossed and her frown deep. “Joel,” she said, speaking over your shoulder, “I’m going out. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” said Joel. You could hear him bustling around in what you assumed was a kitchen, filling a kettle with water and lighting the gas top stove.

When you turned back around, Ellie was already out the door, coat slung over her arm as she shut it.

Before the door closed entirely, her eyes snapped up to meet yours like she knew you’d been watching her.

She was gone before you had the chance to lift your hand to wave goodbye.

again apologies for this if you’ve made it this far. please confiscate my laptop. part 2 coming soon (?) if u want also im not an astrophysics student im a thickheaded cs student who barely survived ap physics so im sorry if i’m doing a disservice to the academic field of astronomy idk shit about it 

[singstaircase]

Walking into your dagger for the very last time– Pedri

summary: At seven, Pedri wondered if soulmates truly exist. He didn't expect to find his in seven years through the virtual world. Or in which Pedri meets someone in a video game lobby and shenanigan ensues

Contains: fluff, little bit of angst, not a happy ending, mentions of feeling lonely, the pandemic, injuries

this ended up being more Pedri centric then I imagined. Obviously some stuff are made up because I don't know Pedri. Enjoy!!!

Pedri is thirteen years old the first time he gets into an argument with his manager, and it feels like the worst thing in the world.

Football is everything to him, so why can't the coach understand? Why can't his coach see that?

He would've been fine if it was just another league game – hell, he would've accepted not playing or even losing, if it was just another league game. But it was Copa de Campeones final! His sole chance of being in Europe.

So what if he accidentally injured himself while making a tackle? So what if the medical team thinks he should rest?

So fucking what? At thirteen, football is his lifeline. Why can't his manager just understand? 

***

So, Pedri does what any teen forced to sit out and watch his team lose a final would do; lock himself in his bedroom and play one video game he would not play in any other circumstance. CS:GO (Counter-Strike: Global Offense) with strangers from God knows where.

Pedri knows he'll regret staying up this late but he doesn't care. That's for future Pedri to worry about. His focus now is on shooting strangers in the virtual world and he'd be lying if he says he isn't enjoying this.

***

It's past midnight and he waits in the lobby, pondering.

Thinking if his coach was serious about not playing him anymore and about so much more which doesn't help at all to ease his sudden spike in nervousness about the future and what it holds.

Someone with the gamer tag [Username] joins to complete the lobby. Pedri's certain he'll forget about them tomorrow, like everyone else.

***

Pedri has a natural talent for many things; football, disappointing his manager and as of now– playing CSGO; he realizes that as the game progresses.

Except for one round, where he lets his mind wander somewhere else and nearly ruins it for everyone. Fortunately for him, his saviour comes in the form of one stranger from who-knows-where, one who Pedri was sure he'd forget about.

Pedri likes them immediately. Unknowingly. Subconsciously. He feels an immediate connection with his mystery saviour for some strange reason. 

"Thanks for saving my ass out there [Username]," he blurts out with haste, ready to log off. 

And the reply comes a voice, a little clipped and barely audible to anyone else but clear as bells to Pedri's ears.

"You're welcome," before the mic goes silent again. Those to simple words would go on to shatter every single plan Pedri never made about his life trajectory and throw them into the gutter.

He doesn't know it yet but this'll be simultaneously the best and most painful thing that would ever happened to him.

Pedri ends up saving the gamer tag of his saviour stranger and reaches out whenever he needs someone to play with or fill the lobby.

Or that is what he tells himself.

Sometimes he invites them when he has a bad game or another argument with his manager. At times just because. And to Pedri's surprise, the stranger responds to his 'pleas' almost every time.

A part of him is happy that they don't ignore him. Yet, another part underneath the surface is also scared that one day, this stranger he's growing fond of, will leave him without saying goodbye and he'll be left to his own again.

Deep inside him there's a creature that won't show up in x-rays, one that is always trying to protect Pedri's soul.

One that has been urging him to finally properly talk to this stranger, make a deeper connection. Something that will stay forever. Perhaps a friendship that will transcend lifetimes. Maybe something even more…?

And today he finally surrenders to those thoughts in his mind.

Today his manager told him he won't be playing for a while. The worst that could happen at this point in his life, happened. He has nothing to lose now and he's never been more sure of it.

Today, with the news that he'd be sidelined, Pedri finally acts on his long-held impulse. 

***

Pedri does it. He actually does it, uncertain if it's the correct decision. He sends the message, heart pounding, and anxiously waits for a reply.

Or not. He doesn't know. Maybe they finally got fed up with him. Maybe they don't care enough to reply.

A small sound emits from the computer, signifying a new message.

⊙ [Sir González] Wanna be friends

⊙ [Username] Sure, why not?

At fourteen years old, Pedri wonders, for the very first time, if it's possible to be friends with someone living thousands of miles away.

The thing about friendship is… sometimes you don't know when it started.

Pedri can't pinpoint when he and his stranger became friends.

If you were to ask Pedri when and how he formed this connection, he won't answer. Because he can't, he doesn't have answers to those questions.

But Pedri knows this is a friendship, he has a friend, be it in the virtual realm. He looks forward to talking to them through messages, cherishes playing with them everyday.

The possibility of gaining a friend through the screen isn't something Pedri ever considered, but he isn't going to complain.

One afternoon after training, he finds himself with a long list of notifications from his online friend. His stranger friend soon makes a habit of sharing their every passing thought to him.

He was taken aback the first time, but just like eagerly waiting for them each day after school or training, Pedri soon makes reading them an integral part of his life.

Sometimes fifty messages at once wait for him, sometimes ten with varying amounts of exclamation and capslock.

By June, he realizes his days without those messages feel incomplete. It has become a tradition for him to lock himself in his bedroom and seek comfort from those messages.

There's no denying this strangter is Pedri's best friend in the whole universe. He yearns to know more and more about them; what they like, where they live, do they see him the same way he does?

However, he can't quite answer their questions the same way, with the same enthusiasm.

Pedri is afraid; afraid they might judge him, or worse, ignore him if they learn more about him. They seem to understand that and he's grateful. But at some point, the stranger friend becomes cautious and quiet. 

⊙ [Username] today was fun. Same time tomorrow?

⊙ [Sir González] yeah. I will message you if I have time.

⊙ [Username] Sure, no problem. By the way, what do you do half of the day lol

⊙ [Sir González] I... I can't answer that. I am so sorry.

The moment those green dots turn gray, a sudden expected pain takes over Pedri's entire body. The reply comes after a painful five minutes of silence from the other side.

⊙ [Username] I understand. Talk you later then.

Today might be the day they reach their wits' end, he fears. And in impulse, he makes a significant decision.

Parting away from this could mean a goodbye, one that he's not willing to say. Not yet. Never.

⊙ [Sir González] Pedri.

⊙ [Username] ???

⊙ [Sir González] My name, it's Pedri. You can call me Pedri if you want.

This is the most vulnerable Pedri has ever been in his fourteen years of life and he can only pray that his friend doesn't leave and now. 

⊙ [Username] Pedri. Perfectly suits you. Well Pedri, talk to you soon then. And my name is (Name). You call me that if you want :)

Later that night

2018

Things were going well, too well– he should've recognized that as the first warning of what was about to come.

He was becoming closer than ever with (Name), he was in his coach's good graces again and best of all– he was actually starting matches and doing well.

It just had to happen now.

***

The x-ray results came back worse than he had feared.

To be honest, he doesn't understand much of it but one look at the doctors, their pitiful look and guilty expression, said everything left unsaid.

He isn't a doctor but even he knows he words 'Hamstring', 'Ligament', 'ACL', and 'Torn' being in the same sentence can never mean anything good.

***

His phone flooded with notifications, finds Pedri in his room amidst distant noise.

Maybe it's his mother shouting at him not to slam doors like that, or perhaps it's the nagging creature inside that only knows how to make everything worse.

A single notification comes through, chiming, and illuminating the dark room as he's about to switch it to silent and throw it on the floor.

***

If it was anyone else, Pedri would just ignore and most definitely not talk to them for a long while. The last thing he needs now is pity. Pitying won't convince La liga clubs to sign him.

But he knows (Name) doesn't mean pity, they are just concerned. They radiate care, not fake sympathy. 

He copies the number. He writes the number.  He presses 'Call'.

Heart thumping, Pedri anxiously awaits a voice from the other side. "What the fuck am I doing," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. But just as he's about to put the phone down,

"Pedri?" He hears someone say faintly.

"Hey, (Name)." The name comes out like a prayer from his mouth.

"Hi," they say like a sigh, like a burden had just been lifted from them.

"So..um I have no idea how to comfort you because I don't have friends who play professional football," the nervous laughter on the other side is melodic and that is the moment Pedri learns even laughter can be a powerful weapon.

"But I just want to say it's going to get better, okay? I know this might seem like the end of the world now but it gets worse before it gets better."

There is a slight delay for a moment. "Wait no that sounded too depressing," mutters (Name). "Ignore me please. I have no idea what I'm saying."

Pedri smiles, even though he knows (Name) can't see him. "I get what you meant, don't worry. Thank you. It means more than you realize." The smile in his voice very clear, even to someone a thousand miles away. 

"Pedri?" He hums in response, barely audible. 

"I am here for you. Always."

Biting his lips, Pedri contemplates on adding the next bit. And in the next breath he says, "Love you (Name)."

His statement is met with silence. He waits and nothing comes. That feels worse than being told he sounded embarrassing.

"Oh," (Name) says, sounding cautious and confused. Pedri feels the singe of embarrassment. He starts to laugh nervously, ready to make excuse.

In the next moment, however, all the air in his lung rushed out in one breath. 

"Love you too Pedri," (Name) says. "Talk to you tomorrow, hm?" His heart skips.

"Yeah, talk to you tomorrow," he mumbles. 

Closing his eyes, Pedri holds dearly onto those four words, letting them settle in his heart, knowing he has found something truly precious in the most unexpected of places.

***

The same night, Pedri receives confirmation from the club– it's not as bad as they feared; a grade two hamstring tear. He'll only be out for four to eight weeks.

On that very same night, Pedri learns Las Palmas will sign him in July no matter what, and Pepe Mel, the coach, is willing to promote him to the first team, even at just sixteen.

That night, He dreams of the champions league, of being in Berlin and celebrating with a faceless companion.

2019

Pedri is sixteen the first time he contemplates quitting football to do something meaningful in life.

It's been a month since he signed for Las Palmas, two months since he started a game and four months since he last won a game.

The preseason game that he did started, shattered his confidence, leaving him questioning his place in football. And the persistent, nagging creature inside him is now whispering louder than ever, urging him to consider a different path.

Maybe he should quit football altogether. He is still young, there's still time to turn his life around, get a degree and a normal job in the future. Live a normal, ordinary life like most of the people of the world. 

"Pedri watch out!"

He jumps at the sudden voice, almost falling down from his chair. He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing the avatar of (Name) crouching in front of him.

"Pedri?" The concern in (Name)'s voice makes Pedri sit up.

He sinks back to his chair. Yet, again, he let his mind wander into the depths of self-doubt and ruin the amusement for everyone. He's convinced he has a knack for turning every moment sour.

"Sorry I zoned out," he mumbles. The groan in everyone else's voice confirms his self-loathing. 

"I think that's enough for Pedri and I today. How about–" The voice of (Name) goes on on the other side gently.

Pedri can't comprehend the words being spoken but the sharp focus on their voice does wonder to soothe his racing heart.

It sounds harmonious, and soul soothing. 

"Bye guys!" (Name) calls out at the end, their voice fading as others start to leave, bringing his focus on his screen again.

It's just (Name) and Pedri now, once again. A familiar comfort. 

"You did very well today, Pedri," (Name) says, wholeheartedly. The sincere praise washes over Pedri, filling him with an electric rush.

The sensation in his chest resembles a cold rush. It's as if their voice is a gust of arctic wind sweeping through his heart, leaving behind a trail of shivers that dance along his spine.

Watching the green dots turn gray, Pedri's room seems to glow with the echoes of (Name)'s words through his phone. 

(Name) 💘 Hey How did your training go?

Pedri 🌟 Shit but is it surprising anymore?

(Name) 💘 :(

Pedri 🌟 I am thinking about quitting football and doing something meaningful for once. I mean I am still young so....

(Name) 💘 WHAT THE FUCK DON'T SAY THAT. Football is meaningful because it means something to you!

Pedri 🌟 I don't know anymore (Name)...

(Name) 💘 Tell me do you feel happy when you play football?

Pedri 🌟 The happiest.

(Name) 💘 Then don't about that. It's not going to be easy, no good thing comes easily. But You are such a great player at sixteen already, just imagine how great you could be when you are 21?! But that won't happen if you quit now. It's not going to be easy but I know you can do it Pedri. You will make it, I just know it.

Pedri 🌟 No one has told me I'll make it except my parents.

(Name) 💘 I'd be upset if you were parents weren't supportive. Pedri, you will play in the Champions League, you will win trophies and you will make it. All you have to do is have hope and you'll be 50% there, work for it and you'll be 100% there.

Pedri 🌟 You think so?

(Name) 💘 I know so.

Pedri 🌟 I will dedicate my first goal in champions league to you. I promise.

(Name) 💘 That's the spirit! And I'll hold onto that promise, González. Even if things go shit, I will be here for you, Pedri. Always :).

Pedri is sixteen the last time he entertains the idea of quitting football to do something meaningful. In the gentle guidance of (Name)'s words, he finds the meaning he was searching for all along.

September, 2019

As he put the phone down, a warmth spread through Pedri's chest, and he couldn't help but wonder, Is this what it feels like to be truly cherished?

November, 2019

It felt as if his own eyes were betraying him. But it is the truth, Pedri will meet (Name) soon. The thought of playing right before (Name), finally being in their presence, fills him with an unexplainable euphoria.

This is not going to be one of his dreams anymore, this will be his reality in due time.

He is going to meet (Name) soon. And he can't wait.

March, 2020

Sometimes there comes moments in your life when you can just sense something is about to go wrong.

That day when Pedri woke up, he could tell something was about to go wrong. He had that sinking feeling. And turning his TV on, he knew why.

The Spanish borders are set to be closed for the next 15 days but given the state of the world, it's almost certain to be extended.

It is the right decision, Pedri has no doubt about that. But that doesn't stop the feelings of disappointment in him.

In his heart, Pedri holds tight onto the belief that everything will be alright; he has to have faith that their paths are destined to cross.

He has to.

December, 2021

This is not how it was supposed to go.

One minute, (Name) was happily engrossed in their work, content with the news of Pedri's goal. And in the next moment, all they hear is silence.

Then chaos.

Words like 'down', 'heavy tackle', 'unconscious' are being thrown around in relation to Pedri. (Name)'s heart drops.

Rushing to the room, they barely catch sight of Pedri being taken away in a stretcher on the TV screen.

(Name) 💘

Pedri are you okay?? Are you hurt? God that's such a stupid question. Please let me know how you are. I love you.

It seems silly to expect Pedri to reply. After all, he was just taken away in a stretcher, of course he won't answer right away.

But (Name) can't stop themselves from calling him. In the voice message after the dial tone, they leave a message; praying and just praying Pedri will be alright.

***

An hour later, notifications from their phone catches (Name)'s attention. It's from Pedri.

Or rather, from his number. 

Pedri 🌟 Hello. I am Ansu Fati, Pedri's friend. You must (Name).

(Name) 💘 Oh. Hello.

Pedri 🌟

So you are Pedri's friend from the other side.

(Name) 💘 I guess?

Pedri 🌟 Well (Name), Pedri's currently going through some medical procedures, don't worry though. He is in good hands. He'll be back soon, (Name)

(Name) can only have hope that Ansu's words would proven to be true.

***

Rest of the day is spent restlessly scrolling and refreshing every and any social media they have, hoping for something, anything regarding Pedri.

For now it's all the same news being repeated by everyone; a player violently tackled Pedri, causing him to lose his balance and hit his head on the goal post. The medical team soon intervened and he was taken to hospital for further checkups.

(Name)'s heart beats restlessly. Is Pedri alright? It looked like a nasty hit and from what they've been reading, he was bleeding too.

Was he hurting too much? Was he in too much pain? God, why did this have to happen to him or anyone? Is he–

The ringing of the phone breaks (Name)'s chain of thought. Seeing the caller, they swiftly answer, not wasting a single moment.

"Hello? Pedri, are you okay?" Those words, breathlessly, comes out of them but the voice that returns on the other end isn't the one (Name) was hoping for.

"Um..hello, I am Ansu Fati. You are (Name), right? It's a pleasure to finally talk to you. Pedri has talked a lot about you."

Their chest tightens. The disappointment and sadness that they feel at it not being Pedri is unmatched. But (Name) has to stay strong now, if not for themselves then for Pedri.

"Uh, yes. Nice to talk to you too, Ansu. Pedri has told me a lot about you too, but I wish we were talking in better circumstances."

"Me too," Ansu says sadly. "I actually called you to let you know that Pedri is awake now. Since you've been so worried about him I wanted to ask, do you want to talk to him?"

(Name) instantly perks up at the news. They nod their head rapidly, before realizing that Ansu can't see them.

"Yes!" The feeling of embarrassment comes a moment later. Clearing their throat, (Name) says, "I mean, yes of course. I would love to talk to Pedri."

"I am sure Pedri would absolutely love to talk to you right now."

Heart thumping, (Name) spins the little marbles in a plastic container, waiting to hear from Pedri.

(Name) feels relieved to know Pedri has someone as thoughtful and kind as Ansu in his life.

***

Saying those words, Ansu hands the phone over to an eager Pedri who wastes no time in taking the call.

Faintly from the otherside, he hears (Name) asking Pedri about his health, in the same breath that Pedri asks them the same question. 

The gentleness in Pedri's voice while talking to (Name) brings a smile on Ansu's face.

This is the purest form of love he has seen and deciding not to disturb them, he leaves the room as quietly as possible, leaving Pedri and his friend to themselves.

***

When Ansu comes back later to check on Pedri, the sight he finds warms his heart.

Pedri is on his side, snoring softly with his phone by his side. The call to (Name) is still ongoing and Ansu can hear soft snores from the other side too.

Smiling to himself, he quietly removes the phone from Pedri's side and ends the call. Sending a quick message to a worrying Gavi and Araujo, he leaves the room smiling widely. 

Ansu is glad Pedri has someone as caring and loving as (Name) in his life.

***

In the weeks following,  Ansu, Pedri and (Name) fall into a routine.

Every night, Pedri and (Name) would have their daily calling sessions that continue until late, where both fell asleep while talking to each other. And every night, without fail, Ansu ends the call and leaves with a bright smile.

During the day, Ansu would message (Name), giving them updates about Pedri.

At first (Name) hesitated to call him. Their bestfriend is a famous footballer, so they shouldn't feel hesitant to make the call.

Especially since they feel like they basically know Ansu based on how much Pedri has talked about him. And after one call with him, all the hesitancy and dobuts were lifted. Pedri was right, Ansu Fati is really a sweet soul.

Neither know exactly when they started to enjoy talking to each other, but one afternoon, while talking and laughing about something that didn't necessarily have anything to do with Pedri, (Name) knew they had found another friend in Ansu Fati in this chaos.

February, 2022

Pedri 🌟 Hello! 👋

(Name) 💘 Oh hello. Sorry, I am out so I can't watch you play right now :(. But I thought you said you won't be online till 9? Xavi benched you?

Pedri 🌟 Oh yeah.

(Name) 💘 I am home now! I can finally watch you 😌

Pedri 🌟 DON'T.

(Name) 💘 ?? Pedri.... I just saw you get tackled on TV. Live.

Pedri 🌟 Funny thing you see....

(Name) 💘 Ah I see. This must mean you are one of Pedri's friends. So are you Gavi or Ferran?

Pedri 🌟 Ferran.

(Name) 💘 That makes you Gavi then. Hello Gavi. Nice to talk to you. Pedri has talked about you lot.

Pedri 🌟 Really?

(Name) 💘 mhm. You are the passenger princess!

Pedri 🌟 The....what?

(Name) 💘 Passenger princess. Someone who prefers being passenger. You don't know how many times I had to listen him rant about this 😩.

Pedri 🌟 😃

(Name) 💘 He's also talked about how great of a player and friend you are.

Pedri 🌟 He's talked a lot about you too!

(Name) 💘 He has?

Pedri 🌟 Hm. Shit, Pedri's seen me.

(Name) 💘 Oh no. Talk to you soon hopefully if you are found alive!

Pedri 🌟 Did you bother you? I swear to god this guy....

(Name) 💘 Pedri! I only watched the last 15 minutes but you were great! And did not. Gavi was quite lovely, actually.

Pedri 🌟 🥰. Are you sure? I can do something about it if it made you uncomfortable.

(Name) 💘 Oh my god Pedri, no don't do it. I appreciate it but he didn't do anything. Don't worry.

Pedri 🌟 If you say so. Shit i have to go now. Talk to you later love you ❤💙

(Name) 💘 Score more for me Love you too <3

April, 2022

Soon, Pedri will get to meet the person who made football special for him. He only has to wait till June. Only the months of April, May and June stand between Pedri and (Name).

June, 2022

A smile lit up (Name)'s face as they toss their phone onto the bed.

Tomorrow Pedri will be here, they will finally meet each other. Tomorrow is going to be the best day ever, (Name)'s certain.

But as is often the case, not everything goes in the way we envision.

June, 2022

Betrayal. 

That's all (Name) could hear and feel.

Is this what it feels to be lied to, to feel betrayed? 

(Name) blinks back the tears forming, taking a deep breath, and dialling Pedri's number for maybe the last time

Ending what they have is the right thing to do now, even if it hurts them both.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl&lt;3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

[firegirl888101]

Hi

I was wondering if you can do a head cannon if Y/N introduced Among Us to the harbingers. What would their reactions be like to the game and how chaotic would the emergency meetings get.

(also this is my very first ask ever, you don't need to responded if you don't want to)

(I've never played Among Us before, I'm basing my knowledge off of one livestream I watched during the height of the pandemic... and memes.)

Chaos.

The way I see it, Pierro and Pulcinella would likely sit out to stop any arguments from getting violent. They don't want to play the game because they can already feel the amount of arguments that will follow and don't have the patience to engage in them. Pulcinella's argument is that he's a mayor so it would be cheating if he joined, meanwhile Pierro just walks away when asked.

Scaramouche and Childe would 100% settle a debate with a fight to the death. Oh? We can't decide who's actually telling the truth and who's lying? Let's settle this in another way. Even Pierro and Pulcinella won't be able to break this fight up, it's better to let Childe tire himself out until the other Harbingers make their decision.

Y/N would regret introducing them to the game because now they can't have any peace in the house. Whenever someone suggests playing the game, they're either forced to join in or forced to sit out and watch from afar by Pulcinella and Pierro's side.

I can definitely see Arlecchino and Childe fighting over colours. (They both want the red character but only one person can be a colour at a time)

Capitano is always the first to be voted out because he doesn't take part in the discussions, he finds them pointless considering everyone is going to vote him out first anyway. It got to the point where he forced Y/N to play for him if they were just watching since he was tired of wasting time.

Columbina is strangely good at the game. Somehow, she can trick every single Harbinger into thinking she's the imposter when in actuality, she's not. She just wants to start drama. That, or she's bored and wants to do something else - she gets voted out then leaves the room to go back to what she was doing before. What was she doing before? Don't ask her, she won't tell you.

Rounds with the harbingers will probably last 20-30 minutes. All the Harbingers are technically diplomats for Snezhnaya so they know their way around debate and deciding who to vote off for 'the sake of the ship'. Yeah, none of them really buy into the bullshit story, they just enjoy taking the piss of eachother without being scolded by Pierro since that's technically what the game is.

^ Also, the Harbingers definitely whisper to eachother and form alliances in each round no matter whether they're a crewmate or imposter. Don't be surprised to find a few crewmates knowingly defending an imposter, they have an alliance after all! You can usually find Arlecchino and Columbina in a pair, and Dottore and Pantalone in a pair.

Pantalone is also good at this game, not as good as Columbina but he's a good manipulator when it comes to making his opponents believing what he wants them to believe. If Columbina and Pantalone form an alliance, all the Harbingers know they'll be on the winning side at the end of the round.

Sandrone and Signora aren't too bothered about the game. They have fun laughing at the others when they're ejected from the ship and painfully screaming that they're not the imposter, but other than that, they're quite neutral. Everyone who plays the game is insistent they join and play because each round needs neutral players who will listen to both sides and determine the best solution to the argument. Although, Signora sometimes likes to pick Childe over Scaramouche if he annoyed her in particular during the session.

Also Columbina is always the pink character. Don't argue with her about this, Sandrone once picked pink before Columbina sat down and almost got her eyes ripped out her skull. After that, it was quickly made a rule that everyone sticks to their own colours and doesn't swap. Apart from Columbina panting in anger, it did solve the whole Arlecchino and Childe fighting problem. Childe took dark blue and Arlecchino kept the red.

This was really fun to imagine! <3

[omegalomania]

OKAY SO for the record store listening parties there was some prerecorded commentary by patrick and i don't remember all of what he said but i'm gonna try and list everything i can remember for those who didn't/couldn't make it! there will be NO ALBUM SPOILERS in this post other than to say it's really really really fucking good and i can't wait to shove the whole thing down my facehole properly when it comes out next week.

it wasn't a track by track commentary but there were a couple breaks between songs for him to talk and this is what i recall best:

when introducing the album patrick did the whole "so like, i know we're supposed to say we're proud of it. but we ARE. it was a group effort and i hope you guys like it :)"

before "hold me like a grudge" he said went on a big long ramble about "okay so i KNOW i said that other side was the last song we wrote before the record was done but that was actually wrong. this song was the last one to be added because i was driving home and i got a text of some lyrics from pete and i started writing the song at stoplights DONT DO THIS BY THE WAY and by the time i got home the song was done in my head DO NOT DO THIS DO NOT WRITE WHILE YOU DRIVE and then i called neal and said can we please please please add this one please and he said sure"

he kept punctuating this story with "DON'T FUCKING DO THIS I SHOULD NOT HAVE DONE THIS DONT WRITE WHILE YOU DRIVE PLEASE"

the point is that hold me like a grudge was the last song to make the album though

there was one track, i won't spoil which one, where he said he worked super hard to play all the brass parts in the studio and then after he got done doing that they got an Actual Orchestra to play the brass parts and it was like professionals doing this at their studio and patrick was like "well. all right then!!!!"

another track (again, not saying which) had a piano part that he played and was really nervous about but he said neal got the best possible performance out of him!

there was one track he called his baby that he fought extra hard to keep on the record and i DON'T remember which one EDIT: It was "what a time to be alive"!!

during one song (i can't recall which) he talks about how andy had to switch drumkits mid-song specifically to go harder on certain sections

there was one song where he talked about how it was written before the pandemic but it ended up being weirdly clairvoyant lyrically. only he says that it was very "prescient" and then stumbles over the word "prescient" and confesses he doesn't know how it's pronounced because he's only seen and read it in print.

after the record was done he was like "so that was the record! and i hope you guys liked it. and if you didn't then um we have other records that you can listen to. instead. if you want to."

also a long ramble about how grateful he was for the fans and how it means the world that they can inspire anyone at all. he said that pete says it all the time but it's still true that the fans are everything to them. he mentioned not ever getting used to being a real big band like this and if he can do it then anyone can. "if my stupid face can make it on a teen magazine then so can yours!"

anyway bottom line patrick is a fucking nerd and it was so so so endearing to hear him talk about this record

if anyone remembers anything else that he said that i left out feel free to add but please no spoilers for the album itself! you can make your own posts for that and i just wanted to give a rundown for people who weren't able to attend a listening party <3

[highlordofkrypton]

ACOTAR FANDOM ANALYSIS

…because apparently I miss academics?

PART 1 - CONTEXT & FACTORS TO CONSIDER

This was originally supposed to be an addition to @praetorqueenreyna’s post, but it started to get long and I didn’t wanna clutter your post. If you haven’t seen her essay on ACOTAR fandom culture, please do check it out because she made amazing and very valid points that I’m just gonna ramble on top of.

OKAY, APPARENTLY, THIS IS GONNA HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS. AFTER I WROTE THIS I REALIZE THERE’S SO MUCH.

I do want to disclaim that this isn’t targeted to any one part of the fandom, merely observations from someone who is relatively new to the ACOTAR fandom (around April-ish). I’m also way too lazy to get sources and stuff. I’m also missing a lot of fandom history.

ABOUT FANDOM CULTURE

At its core, fandom culture is niche. It’s strange, it’s not cool in a popular way, it’s geeky, it’s awkward, it’s community-oriented and a place detached from the mainstream. Hobbies, interests and discussions that you couldn’t really have these conversations with anyone in your day to day because they needed to engage with the piece of media and even then, they needed to care about it enough to create, deconstruct, reconstruct, and contribute to the fandom.

Fandom comes with a sense of belonging. It’s about liking the media, yes, but it’s about liking the media enough that you want to immerse yourself in it. You want more than just the book, the show, the song, etc.

With fandom, especially on Tumblr, there are subcultures within fandom, based on a character, a ship, a spinoff, etc. Fans can find (or create) a community to connect with on specific parts of a media, and that’s a beautiful thing. While fandom is not perfect, and it has its dark, embarrassing, painful moments, over the years it’s developed its own unspoken rules. Most of the ‘subcultures’ stay among them, and even with drama, the overlap isn’t as constant as ACOTAR. Usually, it comes in waves, and evens out eventually.

Most importantly, fandom is a place where you can just be yourself. You can shake off the weight of the outside world, and just do your thing! There are so many politics at play and rules in your day-to-day life, why not get a little weird? Fandom is a place where you find your other weirdos, and the judgmental people are usually a minority.  It can also be really small and you know everyone in the fandom—shoutout to my other 4 Orm Marius homies!!

POST-PANDEMIC CONTEXT AND THIRD PLACES

When the pandemic hit, in places that were locked down, habits needed to change and there was nowhere to go. You couldn’t really escape, so online was the best place. You had people returning to old hobbies, such as crafts, gaming, reading, etc. You also had people searching for new things to partake in. Either boredom, coping with the new way of the world or just finding people to talk to, those are valid reasons.

I’d like to introduce the notion of third places. Third place is considered to be a place that is not home, work or school. It is a place where you can get out of your routine and decompress. Libraries, coffee shops, going to the bar, or anywhere else where you can just step away from the grind and the routine. These are social spots that help alleviate the weight of your daily pressures. For some, their third place was strictly an in-person event.

With the arrival of the pandemic, these third places became inaccessible and even after lockdown was lifted, some of these places were irrevocably changed—either they closed permanently or the hours changed in such a way that they were not accessible. For example, I used to spend a lot of time in my favourite bookstore because it would open at 8AM and close at 10PM. After the pandemic, it opens at 10AM and closes at 5PM. For someone who works, I can no longer use this as my ‘third place’.

For many fandom members, their third place was online. They already know the rules of etiquette from observing, and joining out of their own curiosity. Time spent in fandom teaches you the unspoken tenets of interaction. ‘Don’t like, don’t read,’ is one example. Additionally, being part of a small fandom, but loving something so much that you want to connect with someone, anyone, teaches you to be a lot more respectful of the space you’re entering. You may not like everyone all the time, but ultimately, your enjoyment of your fandom should precede everything else.

Joining a fandom on your own, or with a small group, is completely different from joining en masse. Now, you have many people seeking a place to ‘connect’ coming in with their preconceived notions learned from other places. Maybe a different subculture that isn’t fandom. Maybe an assumption of how fandom should be. 

BOOKTOK VS. FANDOM - CLIQUES VS. COMMUNITIES

I’ve heard the argument that the ‘popular kids’ joining fandom is ruining fandom. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, trying to look at the demographics of BookTok and the patterns of behaviour that are associated with BookTok vs. fandom. I’m on BookTok, but I look for smaller communities, but I see all the drama, all the time.

Here are a few of my assessments:

All social media platforms allow you to cater your page and feed to what YOU want, but not all social media is community based. It is geared for content to consume, and feeds the algorithm to keep you on the platform, so that companies can pay the platform for advertising.

Most other social media encourage you to use parts if not your entire identity (photos, video, name, etc.) and I believe that creates a direct correlation to a person’s sense of validation when receiving likes, comments, engagement. Tumblr, on the other hand, rarely focuses on the identity of the person behind the screen, but rather you build your identity through what you share, the posts you make or reblog. It has shifted to be more similar to other social media (for moniessssss) but it wasn’t like this years ago. Over a decade ago, Tumblr used to be the only place where I could get fandom stuff and Deviantart.

Other social media platforms emphasize that you are the product. With the success of influencers, many people try to replicate the same success by using themselves, their talent and most importantly, their opinions on social media. BookTok is essentially an online book club, which means that it’s mostly sharing thoughts, and less about creation.

Content on social media, put out by influencers is created not with the intention for interaction, but rather, reach. People aren't used to the pushback and continuous discourse that happens on Tumblr where many people can chime in at once.

The desire to belong compounded with the impact of influencers on social media naturally sets people into two categories: creators and consumers. Content creators who have achieved success are placed on the same pedestal our modern society places celebrities on. Due to their following, some people might believe their opinions are more valid because there is a large number of people following them. Some people might be influenced by the ‘majority’ they see following an influencer, which is part of the course. That’s why they’re called influencers.

As a former marketing specialist, I’d like to assert that there are so many more factors in play than a valid take. Aesthetics are a big part of it, and charisma. Both of which fall under the same attributes as the ‘popular’ kids in school. As someone with a lot of charisma in person, I know for a fact that if you package something prettily enough, you can get away with anything.

The problem is: fandom doesn’t work like that.

Fandom is a place where unpopular opinions and niche things thrive. It’s the place where no one cares if you’re cool, and the pretty things come in forms of art (crafts, visual art, writing, etc.). It’s also a place for discourse for those who enjoy that, digging deeper into themes and what not.

The problem is: you have a subculture that is largely an echo chamber and largely one-sided 'community' entering a space with an established dynamic with a lot of back and forth. Sometimes, the rule in fandom is that the rules don’t apply. 

I believe that this isn’t the root of the toxicity, but elements to consider when speaking of the ACOTAR fandom which, like Reyna said, feels like an amplification of the worst elements of fandom.

It's super late here, so I'll come back to actually start saying something LMAO CAUSE THIS FEELS LIKE A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING.

[morlock-holmes]

@poipoipoi-2016 posted this, and I have thoughts that are entirely unrelated to the context it was originally reposted in.

First, I don't like the way it assumes that capability is a sort of set metric, that some workers are just good enough to do O-Ring work and some aren't, because process design and environmental factors will also play a role.

In an uncontroversial environmental design example, I think it's quite likely that even good workers make more mistakes at the end of a 100 hour work week then they do at the end of a 40 hour work week.

So who decided on those 100 hour work weeks?

Second, process design; there's an apocryphal story I heard about nurses plugging IV tubes into the wrong ports, no matter how thoroughly they were trained, until somebody gets the smart idea to redesign the shape of the ports so that you can't plug them in wrong anymore.

I also have a real life example from my brother, who works in safety. His employer was a crucial industry that had to stay open during the pandemic, and so HR came up with a very complicated worker's comp scheme for people who had COVID symptoms and needed to stay home. Part of the policy is that people who stayed home got paid 60% of their salary.

My brother told them, "Hey, a lot of the people covered by this policy are working paycheck to paycheck, and if you tell them that they have to take a 40% pay cut every time they sneeze, they are going to come in to work anyway and pretend to be healthy"

From what he's told me, HR's response was essentially that tweet where the 911 operator says, "He can't kill you, that's illegal!"

So I know a lot of you know math, and I've been thinking a lot about the psychology of certain choices, in particular choices where you have two paths:

In path A, you definitely pay a moderate cost.

In path B, one of two things happen. Most of the time, you pay no cost at all. But occasionally path B creates catastrophically high costs.

I'm curious how people think about situations like that mathematically.

I feel like there's a point at which the moderate cost of path A gets high enough that, when presented with the choice, most people will choose path B, even though the expected cost of constantly choosing path B works out to be much higher.

[renranram]

Casual

sfw ! ! also very fluffy

quackity simps for their roommate that he shares a " casual " relationship with and any finally confronts her about it

a/n ; a very long ass one shot 1500 words to be exact ( i will probably make a part 2 ) ( w/ smut ) ( haha )

reader and alex had been roommates for a very long time, three years exactly, reader having to suddenly move in due to the pandemic.

but the two got along well, comfortable enough to be ' casual ', the two would have casual sex here and there, ' casual ' kisses, and whatever that they can label as casual.

alex chuckles, as he hits reader back with their cushion's pillow, play fighting with the girl over a banter they share, " you wanna play the game of throwing cushions, princesa? because im down for it. " he states, a devious look on his face

she continues to giggle, " nuh uh " she shakes her head, getting hit by the cushion on her face as she grabs another one to hit him on his face back

alex smirked as he got up from the couch to close the distance between them, challenging the girl more as he smiles, admiration on his face

"you sure you wanna hit me like that after I just called you a princess? " he cocks one of his eyebrow up

" i didn't ask you to call me a princess " reader retorts as alex gasps dramatically, " you're gonna to pay for that! " he states as they continue play fighting with the pillows

she cackles as they continue play fighting until alex accidentally hits her too hard resulting to the girl falling down on the floor

" shit, mami, are you okay? im sorry that i hit you too hard " the man fixes his beanie, he quickly crouched down by her side, dropping the pillow from his hands, as he immediately starts looking for any injuries, worried

" no no no, im fine, it's not that serious but jeez, you're strong " she reassures him with a goofy smile on her face.

alex, of course, was still concerned though. he hated that he was the cause of her pain, even if it was just a minor bump to the head.

" i don't care if it's not that serious, you still got hurt and that's all that matters to me."

he ran the his hand through her hair and smiled at her.

"i just don't wanna hurt you, ya know?"

reader pauses, slowly nodding, " wow, caring, what? do you have a crush on me or something " she taunts him, a shared banter of theirs

"do I have a crush on you?" he asked sarcastically as he tried to look away from her pretty eyes. He didn't want her to see just how much she was making him melt inside.*

"don't be ridiculous. you're just my roommate." he mumbles, looking away, she giggles, standing up, as she yawns, stretching, " alright big q "

"you really think i have a crush on you? come on, how lame would that be, you know?" he continues on rambling, as reader plays along, shutting him up by suddenly pressing a peck to his cheek

alex's eyes went wide in surprise as reader leaned up on her toes to peck his cheek. he had expected her to give in to his teasing, but not like this. he never thought she'd actually do something that could be considered romantic.

he felt his face heat up with a blush as he cleared through his throat "oh uhm, ...hey you should actually come here for a minute..."

" huh? " she blinks, tilting her head, a habit of hers when confused as she slowly approaches him again, as she fixes her hair

alex paused to clear his throat again. was he actually going to do this? he had never actually been the one to take the initiative before. his fans were always the ones that threw themselves at him.

"umm, reader, are we actually just friends, or...something else?" he was being incredibly blunt and to the point, but there was no point in beating around the bush. he just wanted to know where they stood in their relationship.

" ... aren't we casual? " she asks, " we agreed to have casual sex, casual kisses and stuffs " she replies, " no labels? "

a slight frown forms on alex's face at that. he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her. they had agreed to have a casual relationship, but it didn't mean he wasn't allowed to start catching feelings for her.

"yeah, yeah, i know that, but..." he frowned again as he tried to find the right words

"what i'm asking is...why haven't we ever tried to make this casual relationship more than just casual? we've...been living together for three years now. "

reader pauses as she rubs her arm, looking away, alex knew about rei's long history of boyfriends, all, ending up shit after shit, " .. you know how i feel about these topics q.. "

"reader, i'm not them,"

" i understand that you've been burned in the past, but that doesn't mean that you can't have faith in me. i mean, we've been living together for three years already. so, i feel like that should be proof enough that i'm not like those other guys. "

" but i dont wanna hurt you- you're the only guy im comfortable enough with, if our relationship fails i dont want to lose you because of that " reader mutters, looking down, avoiding any sort of eye contact

alex paused as he thought over her answer. It made sense for her to feel that way. she has had her share of bad relationships in the past, and he couldn't blame her for trying to protect herself from that pain again.

"well, what if it doesn't fail?" he asked softly

"what if we actually work out together? are you really that worried about losing me if the two of us end up together?"

she nods, as she grabs his hand to cup her own cheek, " you're... the only thing i have.. and you're aware of that, im scared to lose you because you knew you made me, my life and everything better "

alex couldn't help but soften at that. he couldn't help but appreciate that she found him to be her only hope. her only support system. and he didn't plan on leaving her side anytime soon.

"hey look at me."

alex waited until she looked up at him again before continuing,

"even if the worst-case scenario did happen and we broke up... i promise i won't leave you alone. you won't ever have to be scared of that. "

" hm.. what if it gets awkward for the both of us? " she asks, " what if i distance myself? what will you do? you know how i deal... with stuffs like that, what if i say something mean that gets you mad and be so upset at me that you dont wanna face me ever again " she rambles

he couldn't help but chuckle at all her rambling thoughts. he couldn't deny it was a possibility. in fact, he was actually somewhat surprised she was talking about all the worst-case scenarios here

"then, i'll try my best to try looking past my emotions and forgive you." he states, a familiar smile creeping up his face

"and if the worst happens, and we can't fix things, then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. "

alex squeezed her hand, a comforting gesture, "so stop worrying."

" ... you're being a goody two shoes... and i feel like im the bad guy here " she mumbles, chuckling awkwardly

"i've never had anybody call me a goody two shoes before." he said jokingly as he rubbed her back with his free hand

"but really, you're not the bad guy here. all i'm asking for is a chance. is that so much to ask?" he mutters, smiling softly at her

" i uhm.. ill think about it " she flashes him a small smile, " i think i just.. need a little time "

"sure, of course. i understand... hey..." alex paused as he squeezed her hand and looked into her beautiful eyes

"just one more thing before i let you go."

she pauses before nodding, " yeah? " she looks up at him, " can i do one thing?" he said softly as he brought his free hand up to tuck a soft strand of her hair behind her ear. he was hoping she wasn't going to stop him.

" what one thing? " she asks, mumbling, alex smiled as he gently pulled her closer to him, closing in the gap between them.

"can i..just..." he paused as he waited for her to say yes before finishing his sentence.

reader blinks rapidly, face flushing red before slowly closing her eyes, consenting him, alex didn't have to say anything else as he leaned in closer. he was finally gonna do the one thing that he should've done a lot earlier.

after all the teasing and flirting. after all the years of simply being a close friend and roommate. now was the time.

alex finally kissed reader on her lips. properly, outside of them having sex

user's face flushes red as schlatt breaks the kiss, " ... goodnight! " the girl blurts out before running to her room, flustered

[nburkhardt]

Robin doesn’t know how Steve and Eddie does it.

She’s had them for all weekend and is so tired and drained, it was fun at first but by the second night she’s done. How the hell do they do this every single day? She’s only had three and a half days and she’s so drained and actually she kind of wants to cry.

Steve and Eddie decided to adopt a pair of sisters, biological at that. One is six and the other three. They’re adorable and energetic, Robin adores them. Spoils the hell out of them, actually.

Currently though? All she’d like is for them to go to sleep. More accurately, the six year old.

“When are daddy and dada coming home?”

“I miss daddy and dada”

“I hold their hands when I go to sleep”

“How many sleeps until they’re home?”

It’s a near endless loop of some phrase asking for Steve and Eddie. The three year old woke up the first night crying for Steve, nearly wouldn’t go back to sleep either. At one point Robin just stood next to her, wondering if maybe movement would cause another moment of “I miss daddy, I want daddy” from the little baby.

When Steve asked her to watch the girls for the weekend because Eddie’s band was asked for a special show up in Chicago, she was all for it. These are her girls, she loves them! Plus, Steve hardly has long weekends anymore. Being a full time teacher for the middle school now and part time coach. Eddie also didn’t play as much anymore, none of the boys actually. All of them too busy with their own lives and families. Eddie’s record shop is one of the best in town now, and he tutors new musicians.

So, when Steve mentioned it to her? She said yes, go have fun with his nerdy husband and his band. The girls will be fine.

Well, she kind of regrets that now. The six year old, Charlotte, is a lot like her. Can’t stop moving, wants to play all the time, has a million questions. The three year old, Melody, despite not being biological Eddie’s is his mini me. And by that, she means the little girl is a wild card. She’s a cat in human form, doesn’t stop either and somehow worse than Charlotte. Her words are still coming out funny and Robin mimics her all the time. Both of them are definitely obsessed with their parents, normally she loves it. Loves seeing these two little girls get the world handed to them by her best friends, loves seeing Steve and Eddie heal themselves by being the best damn parents.

But after this long weekend? She needs a break from these girls. “Come on Charlie, just close your eyes and go to sleep”

Charlotte rolls over on the floor to look up at her, “I hold my daddy’s hand when I go to sleep”

She nods, “okay, you’ve said this, I don’t know how much I believe it but alright. They’ll be home tomorrow I swear. You go to sleep now, you’ll go to school and by the time you get out, they’ll be home!”

She hopes they’ll be home by then, Steve never gave her a time and at this point she’s hoping that they’ll actually be here by morning. She’d really liked to take a day just to sleep it away.

(Steve and Eddie end up surprising Charlotte at school to pick her up. Melody is still too young for school, so she squeals when they walk in through her front door.)

~~

Don’t ask for a time period. I just wanted to get out some frustration because this was me all weekend. Though unlike Robin, I’ve been around kids longer but my god was this weekend rough. I think my nieces have a bit of separation anxiety (probably due to when we were on lockdown for the pandemic) and a lot of the quotes I used here are real. Oh and the part where ‘Melody’ woke up crying for Steve? Yeah that really happened. at one point I legit was just standing awkwardly waiting for my niece to start crying again 🫠 (my sister & brother in law weren’t at a concert though. Just took a weekend away for their anniversary lmao)

[autistichalsin]

I love my mom but the lying and guilt tripping gets to be so much sometimes.

IE she overheard me talking about getting my brother a ticket to fly to comic con with us. She got pissed about money (fair enough I guess since he still lives with her and my dad) but then I brought up we were helping, and she got mad at me saying she missed my college graduation because of money so why didn't we help?

I just about lost it. I BEGGED her to come. I offered to pay for all the hotels or plane tickets. She's scared of flying so wouldn't do that, and won't let my dad go anywhere without her, so that was a no. And she said the drive was way too long, she'd be really uncomfortable, and my dad couldn't take that long off work.

She didn't come because she didn't think it was important. Bottom line.

In fact, I even mentioned at one point before the graduation I was grateful, as much as the pandemic sucked, that the graduation would be getting livestreamed because it meant she and my dad would see it no matter what. And she (granted, drinking at the time, but still) said it was horrible for me to celebrate people dying just so I could have a graduation.

EVERY TIME I brought up my graduation, she never showed the slightest interest, nor the slightest bit of sympathy that she was missing it. She went out of her way to blame me, act like I was the one being unreasonable. She continued showing absolutely no interest for my Masters graduation, so that I ended up not even bothering to travel (online program) because I knew no one would be there for me anyway, so why bother.

I didn't even get to go to my high school graduation, because it was an online program on the other side of the state. I had to be held back a year when depression hampered my academic performance, and my older siblings had already dropped out; in desperation, trying to motivate me not to do the same, my dad promised me that if I made it, they would too. So I worked through, got the credits I needed... and nope. My mom screamed that my dad spent too much on getting the car up to pass inspection standards (how does that even make sense) and that we therefore couldn't afford to go. So I didn't get to attend that either.

And you know what? Honestly, I made my peace with it- with the fact that my mom will never care about me the way she cares about my sister, that she just doesn't think my successes are worth celebrating (unless she can brag to someone online to seem like a good parent, I guess) and lacks the empathy to understand why me having my parents with me at major life events is a big deal. I worked through that and made my peace with it and have quietly decided I am not even going to bother inviting them to any future events I have, unless maybe I get married one day, I guess, though I feel she'd still try to find excuses not to go to that if it was more than a four hour drive from her.

I could deal with all that. But she fucking LIED about it to guilt trip me. She lied that she WANTED to come and it was money preventing her. That I never tried to help her get to me. And that's the part that hurts the most. That she wasn't there to celebrate when it mattered, but now has the nerve to lie about it and play victim, as though I'm the reason she wasn't there.

She always does this shit! When I was a senior in undergrad, there was an undergraduate research symposium everyone in my major was required to present at. It was ALSO on Zoom, so no excuse not to make it. I asked her and my dad multiple times if they'd like to see my present my research paper on a Japanese death cult and the effects it had on Japanese culture. They BOTH declined. So I invited my grandma, who was happy to be invited, and my best friend even walked her through setting up Zoom for the first time. AFTER the event, when I was telling my mom and dad on the phone about my grandma loving my presentation, THEN my mom got livid and said she had NEVER been invited, and of COURSE she would have come if she had the chance, why did I invite my grandma and not her?

She doesn't want to share in important things with me but then she gets pissed if I then share them with others instead. I guess she wants to feel so important that her declining would make me refuse entirely instead (as with my Masters degree ceremony?) I don't know.

I'm just tired of this man.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

hi! hope you're doing okay—I've got a holocaust-history-in-media question for you. I was talking to my brother the other day, and he mentioned how his 10-year-old son tried out "Anne Frank mode" on the meta VR headset. I was kind of horrified, because that sounds deeply exploitative and disrespectful—but he went on to say it's just a VR version of the Anne Frank house, and that it let my nephew explore history in a new way. He was able to touch things and move them around in a way he wouldn't be able to IRL, not to mention the accessibility of not having to travel.

My nephew's kind of an unusual kid, and he chose this "game" while at a friend's house. All the other kids got bored and left pretty much immediately, but he stayed to learn, and my brother says that at the end his takeaway was, "It's so sad. It's so sad and awful what human beings do to each other."

Part of me is just like "No, absolutely not, that is not for VR companies to profit off of in any way, this feels inherently exploitative." But idk. If it increases accessibility and education in a meaningful way, then perhaps that disquiet is simply reactionary.

Then I remembered I have access to an actual Holocaust historian, someone who even specializes in women's narratives and the media portrayals of same.

So, no worries if you're busy/don't have time to respond to this, but I thought it might be an interesting question for you. Do you think the VR Anne Frank house is a good thing?

Ooooooh this is an interesting one. It's also a question that I think I would have answered differently a few years ago. I mean, I've posted here about my issues with central role Anne Frank has been accorded within Holocaust memory, I've posted about the politics of people playing Pokemon Go at sites of atrocities and disasters...

But. Technology changes SO quickly. I read this fantastic article probably 10+ years ago now about how the millennial generation began to express collective nostalgia SO quickly and so young, because technology and the norms it introduces change so quickly. I'm 34 and while that's hardly ancient, the technological world inhabited by children and adolescents is effectively alien to me because of this massive, rapid, ongoing change.

Moreover, I think the pandemic gave us all an...unwanted but helpful bootcamp in what works wrt education over the phone/computer, and what doesn't. In my personal and professional life, I've met and spoken with STEM companies/individuals who specialize in working with museums, historical societies, etc. And they're not just in it to make a buck--they're there to work with museums etc in increasing access and keeping up with educational trends because they know it's important and smart people value STEAM education.

So, despite my acknowledged concerns issued in the first paragraph, and the kneejerk negative reaction I think you and I share, I think my conclusion is that this is a good thing. Like, as a Holocaust historian, pubic historian, educator, and now a Hebrew School teacher of 7-11 year olds, I think whatever gets kids interested and engaged is Good; whatever draws them and gets them thinking about it is Good; even if the tech and infrastructure involved is something that I previously took (philosophical) issue with.

This doesn't mean I don't still have concerns about the centrality of Anne Frank, but let's be real: I lost that battle a long time ago. I've said my piece, and if Anne Frank is going to be kids' gateway into learning about the Holocaust, I'm glad to see that it's being done responsibly, well, and in keeping with how kids engage with education and tech in 2024.

There are, obviously, many theoretical conversations to be had about the implications of this kind of thing, and I hope a grad student applies like, Walter Benjamin to it for a first year paper, but this is my answer purely in terms of access and education.

[psychhound]

ttrpgs in the classroom (part 4)

howdy!! back again after,, a time away (grad school is insane <33 save me <33) for a long overdue classroom post!!

so this one is about our first big essay assignment, the personal narrative essay! we'll actually be going over a number of games for this one!!

the assignment:

write a 900-1200 word personal narrative essay by playing a solo journaling ttrpg and reflecting on the experience using the prompts provided

the prompts:

What memory surfaced while you were playing the game, and why do you think that is?

What was your main emotion while playing, and where do you think that emotion came from?

What story from your childhood did your playthrough remind you of, and how did you come to know that story?

How did playing through the game inspire you? Is there a change you want to make in your life because of this experience?

Did playing through the game remind you of a success or failure from your real life, and if so, how did playing help you reflect on this?

the games: (as presented on the assignment sheet)

The Lighthouse at the Edge of the Universe by @lostwaysclub

You are a lighthouse keeper in the far reaches of space. Every day, there is work to be done to maintain your lighthouse, safeguarding passing ships from the edge of the universe. Log your observations, maintenance, and events while facing threats like emotion-driven weather.

Yourself

You have just discovered that you are a changeling: something between human and fey. Over five acts, you will reckon with this new discovery, and let your feelings shift and grow.

Snow

There’s something on your mind. There’s snow in the driveway. As you take the time to shovel it out, you think through and process your situation, whether mundane or life-altering.

Long Haul 1983 by @seanpatrickcain

You are a long-haul truck driver making a journey through an empty but dangerous world. Each day, you face a long, lonely highway filled with threats—whether mechanical, supernatural, or psychological. Each night, you make a payphone call to your most important person and leave them a message, though they never pick up.

Last Tea Shop (CW: death)

You own a tea shop on the border between the worlds of the living and the dead. As people pass from the first to the last, they stop into your teashop to have a drink and talk with you.

&

village witch - which was not on the assignment sheet but one student asked special permission to play this one after we listened to an actual play podcast that played this game (alone at the table by @ladytabletop) and the themes of the game really spoke to her

(if folks know other tumblrs for the creators feel free to tag them!!)

the results:

i was really really happy with these essays overall. the students wrote about some very impactful memories and emotions, and all seemed to get a lot out of playing

i had a lot of essays that came back and said "i never thought i'd be a gamer but i really enjoyed this" or "i didn't think i would get anything out of this experience but it really moved me". i was particularly happy with the essay from the business major that said "this was way better than being on my phone" considering these are 18 year olds still adjusting after years of the pandemic and leaving home for the first time and also this was homework

the most popular game played was last tea shop, and i had a mix of responses of "this made me realize how much i value my friends" to "i really need to value my friends and memories with them more" to "i really want to make more friends". i also had students who said this game helped them process grief over losing loved ones

long haul was also a popular one, and i got my most descriptive writing out of this game. it was interesting who the students chose to make their calls to, as well as what they chose the threats to be. one student got a bad ending and decided to play the whole thing again so he could make it home

the students who played lighthouse found it really soothing, as the game intends, and said it was a good way to process things that were on their mind after some of them had rough days leading up to playing (one student said he had to start over because he almost fell asleep on his desk after the game was too relaxing)

and with snow, none of the students chose to meditate on things directly from their lives, but all ended up finding that they had unconsciously put things they needed to process into the game and found new perspectives on them from playing. the kids who chose this one were the most surprised at what they got out of the experience

no one ended up choosing to play yourself, so i may switch this one out for future classes

the reason i chose these games in particular is that they all have an element of choice, and they all deal with emotions in some way. i thought this was a really successful first assignment and was glad the students all seemed invested and excited to play more after this

[eazy-peazy54]

My problem with the Will Wood fandom, (a.k.a touch grass, a.k.a stan culture can suck it) (an essay.)

This one is LONG and a DOOZY, so buckle up if you like to read.

just want to clarify, i do NOT hate the will wood fandom in itself. AT ALL. I love you guys (/p)

i just dislike the people who say weird and creepy shit. if that doesnt apply to you, cool! but tell the people who do that shit to knock it off.

NO DISCOURSE IN THE REBLOGS I WILL ATTACK YOU

One HUGE gripe I have with the Will Wood fandom is how some of you guys treat Will Wood like (and this is literally the only way I can put this that isn't too serious) some all-powerful deity of knowledge that you would kill AND die for. In this essay, I will explain why [some of] you are fucking creeps.

Will Wood. Where do I begin. For the very few who are unaware, Will Wood is a singer-songwriter who makes very strange avant garde whatchamacallit evil jazz/swing music. He has been known as Will Wood since 2015, where he released his first album, Everything Is A Lot, under the name Will Wood and the Tapeworms.

Me personally, I first heard of him from the song Dr. Sunshine Is Dead, from the good old days of 2018 animation meme Youtube.

Ever since the inevitable Tiktokification of the song I / Me / Myself, from The Normal Album, the Will Wood fandom has become... well.. full of children. I have no place to speak, of course, because I myself, am a teenager, but I'm talking like. 11-14 year olds.

11-14 year olds who are all fucking INSANE.

Will Wood has been put in what I like to call;

The Holy Trinity.

This being the big three artists who the mentally ill queers (like me) listen to.

Lemon Demon, Tally Hall, and of course, Will Wood.

Being in this holy trinity has both done him good, and bad. On the positive side, yay!! More streams, more plays, more people to appreciate the craft, and more people who like the music! On the negative side, now you have an army of children listening to adult music, interacting with adult music and music videos, who are willing to do ANYTHING to get your attention, because they are young and don't know much better.

And here, stuck in the middle of it all, is poor William.

Stuck as a straight "gay icon," in a sea of twelve year olds.

Well shit.

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Leading to the second part of my half-essay.

2020. The year shit changed for Will Wood. The Normal Album was released, and people found themselves relating to I / Me / Myself, as stated before. Then this "new," unheard of fandom was kind of birthed upon Tiktok. They were treating him like fucking jesus.

Which is weird.

They were sad, gay, looking for answers, and found them in Will's music. Which is like. Cool!

But when people were saying that he was trans, and then switched up and said he was making fun of trans people?

Yeah. Not that cool actually.

Coming back to the present now, Will has stated how weird these kids are.

In a response from a AMA for In Case I Make It on the official Will Wood subreddit, (I know. Ew, gross, Reddit, but this post was what inspired me to make this in the first place, so,) Will says this:

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"When I was living in the sticks along the Delaware during the pandemic, I had this weird sort of mystical thing going on inside my head that was trying connect dots in my life and turn meaningless nothing things into signs that I would die.

This was happening around the same time I was dealing with getting actual public attention for the first time, and was living in an area where nobody wore masks, and was living with people who were at risk of serious covid complications if they caught it. Also for most of it I was the dreaded 27, and having been a bit of a junkie in my younger years and an idiot with a barely-treated psychiatric wreck in my brain for most of the ones following it, it was not unlike me to assume I'd die young.

It just seemed too perfect.

As I was dealing with the reception of the normal album (my first truly scathing reviews, I/Me/Myself "discourse," being the subject of conversation on a larger scale) which was beyond what I was prepared for psychologically in terms of its scope and type, my anxious rumination started to veer toward genuine paranoia.

I started thinking that I would die by my own hand or be murdered by one of these crazed Will Wood fans in the dead of night. So I didn't sleep like ever, I lost a bunch of weight and couldn't gain it back for a while, I freaked out a whole bunch and I'm surprised looking back I never lost my sobriety or whatever.

Since it started to look more and more like cosmic fact that I was doomed, I started to feel greater and greater desperation to get out these songs that I had been quietly writing over the previous year or two. Songs I'd written while going through a big breakup and wrestling with rotten parts of me that were finally accessible due to my finally being properly medicated and dealing with the real shit in therapy. And then songs I'd written as I went through these changes."

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Obviously that is a lot to unpack for a Tumblr essay, but since you’re this far, you probably read it all already.

“Stans,” as most would call them, and “Stan Culture” as a whole, is just a huge wreck. Everyone is always fighting someone. We know this. We all do. Stans scare artists. 

I want you to think. Think of the artists who are inspired by Will Wood. The ones who want to cater out their music to the Will Wood fans. Imagine if you will, those artists seeing that AMA post, seeing the crazed fans, seeing the relentless sexualization, the jokes about serious issues, like Will’s past drug use, seeing all of this and thinking:

“Is it really worth it?

Is it really worth all of this to make music and put myself out there?”

Now, that may make you uncomfortable, but it's the honest truth. And it's happened to so many people, and so many artists. 

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And now a message to the disgraced kids who managed to latch on to Will Wood’s music.

Treating a musical artist like a god is not gonna help anyone. I’d know. I’ve seen it happen multiple times, to multiple artists. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is think before posting on the internet. Think to yourself; would I say this to the artist's face? Could someone see this and think differently of me? Is this just weird to say in general?

Remember that these people are real people. Will Wood is a real person. With real thoughts. real feelings. a life to live. He's not just some music making machine. He’s not just some silly character. He’s not just some whimsical guy who we can all project onto.

Will Wood is a real person, and everyone should treat him that way. 

Thank you for reading.

(I will edit this essay if I think of anything else to add. That or I'll just reblog it.)

[reactionimagesdaily]

REACTION IMAGES BLOG PATCH NOTES (aka the 10k follower celebrations got out of hand)

Hey everyone!

So it's been a hot minute since I announced that we passed 10,000 followers on here! I'm sure... well, I'm actually sure that most people won't be TOO fussed either way, but I did say I was gonna do some stuff, and I wanna stick to my word if nothing else xD

So! Let the celebrations begin! Firstly, I'm announcing a new QnA (I love those things) that'll last,,,, I'll say 2 weeks and go from there. Feel free to ask me about whatever you want!! If you want to cater to me specifically, my current big interests are Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk 2077, Mass Effect, and uuuuh Halo. (Also Bionicle remains a constant.) (Lots of scifi videogame stuff at the moment...)

[IK there's still some stuff in the inbox I need to answer/respond to you - I promise I'll get to those as well <3 thank you so much for your patience, if you've been waiting]

Secondly, here's a new song cover! IDK how many of you have played the game Divinity: Original Sin 2, but here's me singing Lohse's song; Sing For Me.

Thirdly: here's a new gimmick blog! I Was Not Joking. (Though, for my sanity, it's gonna be weekly instead of daily.) I'll be posting the images I have saved in my folder called 'feral screenshots' - it'll basically be a collection of cursed images/images with strange auras. I wanna say y'all know the ones, but if you don't, then here's an example of what we're dealing with:

[Image ID: a person floating in a rubber ring in a swimming pool. On their head is what looks like a life-size Lego head.]

Introduciiiiing the Weekly Weird Images blog!

And Fourthly! It is my great pleasure to announce that we're adding alt text to all the images on this blog! Sorry it took so long to get round to T_T

And yes - I do mean we! To write out all the alt text for these images, I've on-boarded minion-in-chief/court jester aplomb @tizzytinkertilly! I (the reaction images guy) will still be handling every other part of the blog - she'll just be doing that bit. For the sake of my sanity xD

This is kind of a big change - both the addition of alt text, and the fact that this blog is no longer a single-person operation - so for the foreseeable future, the queue's been tweaked so that we only post 2 images a day instead of 4. (Fun fact! 2 images a day was the original MO of this blog, and then covid happened and I was like "I'll make it 4 a day because it'll be a nice thing to do for everyone while they're miserable in this pandemic :)" and then I never stopped (although you could argue that the pandemic never stopped either).) Maybe if/when we fall into a good routine and feel like we can do more, we can bump the rate of images back up, but right now this is a teething phase and I'm keen to slow things down for a little bit. :P (Tumblr has made some WEIRD mechanical choices for group blogs, I'll be honest.)

And, uh, yeah, that's all! Let the QnA begin- Hope y'all enjoy the song cover- Hope y'all enjoy the additional blog- A big welcome to Tinks and to alt text! Happy 10k followers, everybody!