#I don’t see people cancelling Jon or maybe they are and I just don’t run in those circles

[saltyfilmmajor]

I wonder if everyone is going to call out Jon Stewart for having Dave Chapelle do a set for the Kennedy awards like they did with John mulaney

[trensu]

Jon's Creeping Terror Fun Fact Corner!

You know how Cecil has his Fun Fact Science Corner segment on his radio show? Well, Jon has his own show produced by The Magnus Studio. It's an educational kids show all about the Entities of Fear!! It's a very specific kind of kids show. You know the ones. Those kids shows that children are absolutely mad for but any adult in their vicinity is left deeply unsettled by them? Yep. On the surface, the show seems fine but if any adult dwells on the content for more than five minutes, they are left feeling very very unnerved, especially since the host, one Jonathan Sims, seems more than a little unhinged half the time.

The show is so popular it gets almost 15 whole episodes! (It gets cancelled at 14 bc at that point it had received far too many retrospective complaints from parents to continue any further). Sometimes, the episodes even have special guests!! Although it got cancelled, you can obviously still find it on the internet if you know where to look. There's even compilations of all the show's best Unhinged moments.

--

The Vast Episode

Jon: Today's episode is about the Vast! And to tell us more about it we have Simon Fairchild visiting us. Kids, if you ever see this man in person, please run very far in the opposite direction.

Simon: Thank you for that warm introduction, Jon. Now children, who here likes ROLLER COASTERS?

Jon: And that's it for our special guest [proceeds to literally kick an old man until he's off screen] Do not trust this man and please be careful when going on roller coasters in the future.

--

The Lonely Episode

Jon, reading from the teleprompter: We have an expert of the Lonely with us, Mr. Peter Lu--what? No!! Why's he here? Get him off my set! What do you mean no? I don't care how much funding he gives the studio!! He tried to take Martin away!

[scene cuts off and starts back up with Martin sitting next to Jon, looking particularly sweet and cuddly in a knitted jumper]

Jon: Here we have m-my Martin, I-I mean my ASSISTANT Martin Blackwood. Say hi to Mr. Blackwood, children.

[Jon is a twitchy mess and cannot even look at Martin's direction. Martin looks flushed]

Martin: Er, yes, h-hello.

Jon: Martin has experience [this is hissed with all the venom he can muster] with the Lonely. He's going to teach us the best way to avoid that evil, conniving bast--

Martin, hastily cuts in: Yes, well! Kids, who do you have in your life that you love? It can be anyone! Your siblings, your pets, your friends! Anyone at all!

[at the edge of the set, just barely visible, Peter can be seen crammed into a cage gleefully guarded by Daisy]

(it's during this episode Jon finds out that he's not allowed to use naughty words on the show. All the stuff with the murder and the skinning and the worms and such is fine! Just no cussing. Jon is befuddled and aghast. This is why Hopworth was not allowed as a guest; he's a very swear-y man)

--

The Corruption Episode

[Jon is seen clutching a jar of ashes throughout the entire episode with absolutely no explanation as to what it is or why it's there]

Jon, gesturing manically: and that's why it's important to see a doctor when you're sick and have an exterminator on speed dial.

[Martin comes onto the scene with a worried look on his face. The screen goes to black for a moment, then reappears with Jon still clutching his jar but looking significantly calmer. He smiles at the camera and it almost looks normal]

Jon: To finish the episode, can you demonstrate the proper handwashing technique we taught you at the start? Be sure to tell your parents what you've learned about infection control and have them show you where the CO2 is kept in your home!

--

The Hunt Episode

Jon, earnestly happy: This is my best friend Daisy! She's going to help us learn about the Hunt. She's one of the bravest people I know.

[Daisy turns away to hide a shy smile before clearing her throat and starting in on a rehearsed lecture. The episode ends with her and Jon making the children repeat the "don't listen to the blood, listen to the quiet" mantra and also "all cops are bastards."]

(Basira, in post production: ...yeah, that's fair.)

--

The Flesh Episode

Parents are horrified when they hear their children singing "you are what you eat, meat is meat!" whenever they play after that episode airs.

(Martin: Just to be clear, we're encouraging cannibalism??

Jon: no! ...maybe? i don't know, Martin, they told me it tested well with the focus group children

Martin: yes, okay, but WHY did you come up with that jingle?

Jon: Don't look at me like that, I'm not crazy, Martin! I wouldn't just eat a person. But, well, if someone asked me to eat them like, after they died, I wouldn't necessarily say no...?

This conversation was recorded and leaked somehow. And that's how Actual Cannibal Jon Sims became a trending meme. He has to do a PR statement confirming that he "has never knowingly eaten a person" and that that was "a completely hypothetical discussion." This convinces as many people as you think it would.)

--

The Stranger Episode

Nikola: I don't much like children. Not enough skin on them to do anything really fun.

Jon: Why are you--how did you even get in?? S-Security! Someone come get her out of--

Nikola: oh, but I have information for the little ones! [she pulls out a basket of high-end skincare products and looks directly into the camera with her featureless face] These are the lotions that are best for Archivist flesh but I'm sure they work for the kiddies as well! You all want to grow up to have lots of beautiful skin don't you? Here, let me show you how to use them! [attempt to lotion Jon]

Jon: [flinches away] Security! O-or Daisy. DAISY!

[growling is heard and we get a flash of a wolfish Daisy body-slamming Nikola to the ground. The rest of the episode has Tim shoving Jon off screen and going on a rant about circuses and how to best explode them. This becomes one of their most popular episode amongst the children]

--

Breekon and Hope show up occasionally in the background of various episodes and become something like an Easter egg for fans of the show.

Anyway, I love the idea of kids adoring socially awkward, neurotic mess of a man Jonathan Sims. Jon is completely confounded by his popularity but also, he's glad of it bc that means the children will be more prepared if they ever encounter any of the Entities (most parents think it's all fiction, except for the ones who've had Encounters with one of the entities; Jon ends up with a sort of underground cult following comprised of survivors of fear encounters)

I blame @lemonisinplay (and Jonny Sims) for the entirety of this post, tbh. She came up with the name and half the stuff here XD

[josiewrites]

One Night Stand

When I said it was coming soon, I didn’t realize it was going to be immediate. Whoops. 

Though he was unaware, Bryan was correct: what Mox and Punk had was truly a ‘one night stand’. 

Pairing: CM Punk/Jon Moxley

Genre: smutty smut smut

Warnings: oral (m receiving), swallowing

Tag List Babes:  @writtingrose, @abadamn, @rubyred1980, @letmebeawesome, @brittsdmd, @unlikelywrestlingfan, @rollynchwhore, @cuzimacomedian, @demonqueen29, @auburnwrites, @thebestintheworld, @elitehoe

Punk took a deep breath as he stepped into the night air, bag slung over his shoulder. This time of night always calmed him down, waiting for his ride back to the hotel after filming, when the whole world seemed to just stop. He reflected on his match this evening, the unexpected team he and Jon Moxley made. Certainly threw Dax and Cash for a loop, and the surprised looks on everyone's faces was everything he could've asked for. Last time he and Mox met in a ring, they were two different people from where they were now. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of who Mox had become, and the thrill of wrestling with him made his blood run hot. 

The sound of a car horn brought him back to now, and he blinked as his eyes focused on the car in front of him. The black car dimmed its lights slightly, and he was able to see Jon Moxley in the driver's seat. “Need a ride?” Mox’s voice always had a slight drawl to it, one of the many things that caused many people to take notice of him, Punk included. 

“Maybe I have a car coming,” Punk replied, smirking. Though he had an idea of where this was going, he wasn’t going to give in easily. 

“Cancel it.” Jon put the car in park and turned his blue eyes to Punk, staring into the older man’s dark eyes with a cold intensity. “Get in, Punk.”

Punk locked eyes with Jon, unwavering in his confidence, but still opened the car door and slid inside. “I thought you would’ve been riding with your new friend Danielson,” he said, tossing his back in the backseat next to Jon’s. 

“He hasn’t earned that yet,” Jon said plainly, putting the car back into gear and pulling away from the arena towards the hotel. Punk quirked an eyebrow at Jon’s response, but shrugged it off as he pulled out his phone and canceled the car he had ordered. 

The ride to the hotel was filled with a strangely comfortable silence as Jon drove, rock music playing softly from the car’s radio. Punk felt his heart race slightly, worried he’d misread the intentions of the ‘blue eyed brawler’. He began to bounce his knee slightly, clenching and releasing his fingers in an unconscious gesture. 

“Relax.” 

Almost beyond his control, Punk found himself following Jon’s instructions. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and ran a hand over his beard. “Sorry,” he said, almost sheepishly. “I swear this isn’t normal.”

Jon let out a throaty chuckle, a sound that stirred something deep in Punk. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Punk turned to gape at Jon, mild shock in his face. How could he look so damn relaxed? One hand lazily on the wheel, the other out the window, as though he wasn’t talking about the deal they had made earlier. “No hard feelings.”

Punk blinked, mildly stunned. That hadn’t even crossed his mind, he’d never been one to back out on a deal like this. So why was this so hard for him this time? “I’m not one to back out,” he said simply, sinking back into the seat of the car. Watching out of the corner of his eye, seeing Jon smirk told him that he had made the correct choice. 

Pulling into the hotel, Jon threw the car in park, but waited a bit before turning it off. He took Punk’s chin in his hand and turned him to face him, the gesture at odds with the behavior he demonstrated in the ring. “You sure?” His voice was soft, that drawl of his filled with concern. He was giving Punk one last chance to back out, to leave, to call off the whole damn thing. 

Punk swallowed, Jon’s calloused fingers against his beard sending tingles through him. He knew Jon was giving him an out, but Punk didn’t want it. He knew what he agreed to when he made Jon his partner for the night, and like hell was he going to miss out on that. He pushed himself forward, letting his lips connect softly with Jon’s. The younger man’s lips were soft on his, and he could taste the lingering wisps of his mint chewing gum as he pulled back. “That answer your question, Mox?” 

Jon couldn’t help but chuckle as he released his grip on Punk’s face. “Oh we’re gonna have fun, old man,” he laughed, turning off the car and stepping out. 

“Old man?” Punk shot back, following Jon out of the car as they both grabbed their bags. But there was a smile in his voice as he walked with Jon into the hotel, each of them checking in for their separate rooms. Entering the elevator, they both headed to the same floor, Punk’s heart thudding more steadily by the moment. “So, how…?” His voice trailed off, his confidence faltering slightly. 

“Just follow my lead,” Jon said simply, resting a hand on Punk’s lower back, the gesture strangely intimate for someone like him. “Got it?” Punk nodded as the elevator dinged and Jon dropped his hand, following Jon out of the car and to his room. 

The lock beeped as Jon waved his keycard in front of it, and he pulled the door open. “Should I put my bag in my room?” Punk asked as Jon stepped into the room, throwing his bag in ahead of him. 

“Plenty of time after if you want,” Jon said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can leave it here for now though." Punk nodded, and Jon turned to allow him in, placing the ‘do not disturb’ placard on the door before locking it behind them.

“Kay,” Punk replied as he threw his bag with Jon’s and pulled off his shirt. “What-” 

Before he could finish his thought, Jon’s lips were on his again, this kiss more forceful than the one in the car. Jon’s tongue tied with his, and Punk could taste the fleeting hints of his gum again as he was pushed back onto the bed. 

“Just relax, Punk,” Jon purred, pulling his own shirt off as well. “Let me take care of you.” Straddling the older man, Jon returned his lips to Punk’s skin, determined to have Punk’s throat as colorful as his chest as he nipped the flesh lightly. Jon ran his hands down Punk’s chest playfully, one lazily toying with a nipple as the other traveled down his stomach, caressing the skin above his waistband. 

“Jon,” Punk breathed, Jon’s fingers ghosting over his skin softly, his body aching for more contact. Jon growled into Punk’s neck, the man beneath him moaning his name, combined with feeling Punk grow harder under his hips, causing Jon to stiffen as well. 

Jon picked his head up, meeting Punk’s gaze once again. “Oh I could get used to hearing that,” Jon said, his natural bravado coloring his words as he shifted his weight to Punk’s thighs, allowing him to see the outline of Punk’s hardness in his jeans. 

“Your new boy toy might have an issue with that.” Punk let out a breathy chuckle as Jon began to unfasten his jeans, his head lolling back as he felt his cock ache for Jon’s touch. 

Jon returned with a chuckle of his own, sliding his hand beneath Punk’s boxers to caress his sensitive length before freeing it. “It’s one night,” he said simply, giving Punk an experimental pump, which was rewarded with a gasping moan. “That tree sperm swallowing motherfucker can deal.” 

Before Punk could offer any kind of rebuttal, Jon gave his tip the lightest of licks, sending a shiver through him. Jon smirked and took Punk into his mouth, causing him to moan and knot his fingers into Jon’s hair. It took every bit of self control in him to not just push Jon farther down his length and fuck his face. Jon followed his lead in the ring tonight, time for him to return the favor. 

As though Jon could feel Punk’s internal dilemma, he continued to swallow Punk with a near agonizing slowness. He wanted Punk to feel every inch of his length being caressed by Jon’s throat, wanted to make the older man squirm and submit. Though they had gained some sense of friendship, they were still competitors at heart, still wanting to beat the other. 

“Dammit Jon,” Punk gasped, tightening his grip in Jon’s hair, “stop being such a fucking tease.” He opted to take a chance, pressing on Jon’s head slightly. Surprisingly, Jon acquiesced, allowing Punk to push him further down his shaft. Feeling himself pulse slightly in Jon’s throat, Punk adjusted his grip so both hands held Jon’s head steady as he thrust himself into the younger brawler’s mouth. 

Punk let his head fall back as he fucked Jon’s throat, moaning loudly about how good he felt around his cock. Jon, unable to smirk at Punk’s appreciation, merely hummed around Punk as he slid his hand into his own pants, stroking himself in time with Punk’s thrusts. He knew there would be other opportunities for him to come tonight, for now his only focus was Punk’s release.

“Jon,” Punk panted, his breath hitching as he felt himself twitch in Jon’s throat. “Fuck, Jon, I’m…” He dropped his grip on Jon’s head, but Jon refused to let up, Punk’s own hips urging Jon on. “I’m gonna-shit, Jon.” Jon, one hand still pumping his shaft, rested his other hand on Punk’s stomach. No force behind it, but gesture enough to answer Punk’s unspoken question. “Fuck, fine. God!” His moans gave way to a sharp cry as he pulsed in Jon’s throat, the flood of his release pushing Jon over as he coated his own knuckles in warmth. 

“Not bad, huh?” Jon’s cocky demeanor returned as he finished cleaning Punk. He slid up Punk’s body and pulled him in for another kiss, the taste of himself on Jon’s tongue giving Punk that heady feeling again, and he found himself licking Jon’s stickiness from his hand after the kiss broke. “Easy now,” Jon said softly, fingers brushing through the grey in Punk’s beard slightly. “We have all night.”

[thevindicativevordan]

You’ve pretty much summed up all my feelings with Young Justice. Back when season 1 ended I put it above the old DCAU, hell it is still one of my favorite shows, but that first time skip practically ruined the show for me, and they just keep doing them. It is so annoying how some people in the fandom justify it as “gIViNg uS CHarCteR dEVloPMeNT”. What!? We skip over some of the best character development! I’d much rather *see* Robin become nightwing than be told about. I’d rather see Artemis and Wally’s relationship develop or what happened between Connor and Megan between S1 and S2 instead of being told about it. Still, I spent years wanting the show back after the cancellation. Wally was my favorite character and “killing” him off for being too slow after a whole season of serving no narrative purpose but being Artemis’s worried boyfriend, annoyed me immensely. To say nothing of the Darkseid plot they set up at the time. Two seasons later and they’ve barely even touched on that. All that doesn’t even get into the drop in writing and animation quality. During my rewatch, going from old YJ to new really gave me some insane whiplash. I don’t want the show cancelled or anything, but my excitement for what was once a favorite show has all but evaporated now. Do you think their is any real hope for a return to greatness?

Confuses me when I see people describe "massive status quo shifts happening off-screen in between seasons" as character development. I too was also peeved at WALLY WEST of all characters dying because he was too slow, should've killed Barry instead as befitting the obvious CoIE parallels. Unfortunately I don't see the show rising above the level it has been for S4, which is about the same level as S2 for me (aside from the animation quality another thing that I sadly don't see changing given Zaslav is more likely to cancel the show rather than raise the budget). Weisman apparently has said that he doesn't see YJ as a show "about" the legacy heroes, instead it's a DCU show with the legacies as the POV characters. Personally I think that's just him wanting to do a bunch of spin off series but not getting the approval to make them, so he just crams all of his ideas into the one show he's got. Clearly he's got ideas for the entire DCU, but they're at odds with the audience S1 and S2 cultivated who are primarily here for the S1 cast, not to see Weisman play with every corner of the DCU. In short the problem is Weisman wants to be a worldbuilder and tell an epic story about the centuries long struggle between Savage and Darkseid whereas the audience wants to focus on the lives of the S1 cast. That tug of war between priorities is what hurts the show.

Only big chance I see for a change is when/if the show survives long enough for Jon and Damian's generation to become the legacies to the legacies. Jon becoming Superboy and Damian becoming Robin while Conner becomes Superman and Dick becomes Batman, Kaldur mentoring Artur or Andy, Bart maybe mentoring his own father and aunt (God the Flashes are weird), etc. You could return to a S1 setup where we focus mainly on this new group doing their own spin on the mantles. At some point Weisman is going to need to get people to care about people other than the original crew if he's serious about continuing the show for long. Sooner or later you're going to run out of plot for that group, Zatanna is pretty much done since all she had was her father being trapped by Fate and now that's resolved, so you need to get people to embrace a new generation of heroes to follow. The Jon/Damian generation could be that opportunity if executed well. Otherwise people are going to dip once their favorites start getting sidelined, I know I'm out once Conner is done unless there's another Super to replace him.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Add A Link and See It Grow

Today’s the last day of the Harringrove Week of Love! The final prompt I chose was Found Family! Read this here or on ao3 posted by ej_writer !

Word Count: 7,305

Rating: T

“Are you serious right now Nancy?”

It was 7:30 at night when Steve heard his doorbell ring and, upon answering it, was met with a swarm of middle schoolers rushing into his house. He had plans to go out to the quarry with Billy in like, a half hour, he could not afford to be the babysitter.

“I’m sorry, Steve. My mom was supposed to watch the kids but she had to go out so she asked me to babysit, but I already told Joyce and Jon I’d help them plan Will's birthday party and it’s only a few days away now and-“ Nancy talked about a thousand miles a minute as she tried to justify dumping the brats on him.

“Whatever, it’s, fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth arguing over either. “Aren’t they old enough to watch themselves at this point?”

Nancy didn’t even respond to that, just gave him a stern look that said ‘you’re watching these kids no matter what, get over it.’ She crossed her arms and squinted at him and, even if it didn’t really matter if he agreed, his resolve broke. “Alright, fine.”

She smiled and thanked him before hurrying back to Jonathan’s still running car. Steve sighed and braced himself before turning around to go back inside. The brats were known for wreaking havoc in a matter of minutes, and he wasn't looking to let them destroy his parents’ house.

In the five minutes he was outside they’d already raided the fridge of all of his pop, added the leaf to his dining table (how did they even know where that thing was?), had game pieces and boards thrown all over the place, and made a stack of their bags in the corner of his living room.

“Wait a second, is this a sleepover?” Steve groaned at all of the overenthusiastic nods he received. “Where am I supposed to put all of you little shits?”

Dustin shrugged. “You have enough rooms in this place to house the whole neighborhood. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Well, since nobody felt the need to run this by me first, I’m already busy. Can you dipshits handle yourselves for like, two hours?”

The look on Mikes face perfectly mirrored the one his sister had given Steve at the door. “Dude, Nancy will kill you if she found out you left us here alone.”

“Not if I kill her first for dumping all of you on me.” The threat had still stuck, she absolutely would kill Steve. There was no way he could get away with leaving them unattended.

He figured he could just call Billy and cancel, but that was really the last thing he wanted to do. He tried to come up with some compromise, but with all the kids pulling up chairs to his dining table with intentions of staying all night, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.

Dialing Billy’s number into the kitchen phone, he walks around the corner into the bathroom, shutting himself in as best he can around the phone's cord in an attempt at having some semblance of privacy from the six sets of prying ears in the next room, but he hears nothing from the other end.

He let it ring a few more times before he gave up, wrapping the cord back up and hanging the phone back in its slot. This wasn’t going to go over well.

Because it wasn’t like he could just be like ‘hey, I have to go do this, be back in a few’ when what he had been planning on doing was going on a date with Billy Hargrove. They were sneaking around behind the kids' backs, so that just wasn’t a luxury they had.

But Billy wouldn’t answer his phone, so he couldn’t explain the situation to him either, and now Steve was backed into a corner, and exponentially screwed.

At first, he was trying to just stay out of the kids’ hair, hover in the corner while they did their thing just to make sure they didn’t get it of hand, but he was feeling too jittery and nervous, so he pulled up one of the thousand extra dining chairs his mother kept around for dinner parties and joined in their stupid game.

For once, they were playing normal people games instead of that role playing thing he couldn't wrap his head around, so he could actually understand what was happening enough to participate.

Not that that meant he ever won, being outsmarted by these kids was his specialty. Round after round they ran circles around him, and he was getting frustrated enough he was considering making them sleep outside.

He was about to throw his cards down and quit for what was probably the tenth time already when he heard the telltale sound of Billy’s Camaro pulling into his driveway.

That was really bad. He’d stood Billy up, and he’d be pissed, he couldn’t let him just barge in here and make a scene in front of the kids. Because not only would that mean they knew Steve was not crushing on some imaginary girl or whatever he’d made up to thwart their suspicions, but that he was with Billy Hargrove of all people. They’d never let it go.

He shot a quick look at Max, who no doubt would’ve been able to recognize the sound of her own brother's car, hoping to somehow communicate to her to keep these other assholes occupied while he dealt with this. He was pretty sure Max already knew about them anyways.

Forfeiting again, he got up from the table and hurried towards the front doors.

Will called after him with a sympathetic, “It’s just a game, Steve!” which thankfully meant they either hadn’t heard or hadn’t recognized the sound of Billy’s car.

Holding up the pack of camels he always kept in his pocket, he turned around to face the kids, backing towards the door still. “Just need a smoke break.”

That seemed to appease them, and they went back to what they were doing. He practically ran the rest of the way to the door, as he opened and closed it before they could see the boy on the stoop.

Billy was standing there probably about to lay on the doorbell, something he always did just to drive Steve crazy, and seemed surprised at the way he came all the way outside and shut the door behind himself. “Listen, I’m on babysitting duty, so I kind of can’t do this right now.”

At the same time Billy’s face fell, Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. This wasn’t about their rendezvous, turning up at Steve’s house usually meant he needed something, and judging from the way his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and the way he was worrying his lip between his teeth, it was something important. “Whatever, Harrington. I’ll get out of your hair.“

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve reached out and put his hand on Billy’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay, I just, I needed you to know they were here.” The additional so you didn’t out us and ruin our lives forever went unsaid, but Billy knew the implications of being caught by the kids.

“I need your first-aid kit“ It was hard for him, asking for help, but these days it was something he needed a lot of.

“Okay.”

Without another word he opened the door and led Billy inside, making him kick off his muddy biker boots before following him up the stairs to where he kept the band aid kit in his bathroom. One of the perks of having a big house was that the kids, from where they were in the dining room, couldn’t see the door, and only heard them go up the steps.

This had become routine for them, Billy showing up at his door in need of a little TLC, and Steve desperate to give it to him, but up to this point they’d been able to evade the kids. He didn’t think it would honestly be all that bad if they knew, Billy’s sister was among them and probably wouldn’t let her friends run too wild with the information, but Billy had made him swear on his life he’d never let them, or anyone else for that matter, find out about it.

Of course he understood that. There was a reason this kept happening, these nights when Billy would show up at his door in need of assistance, and that reason, who’s name happened to be Neil Hargrove, would undoubtedly kill the both of them were he ever to catch word that his son was dating Steve Harrington.

Steve had the displeasure of meeting Neil in person only once in late December, when he’d dropped Max off at her house after a Christmas party at the Byers. Being that he was such a responsible and caring father, or at least that’s what he was for the public eye, he just had to meet the boy who was watching his daughter.

Steve’d been beyond unsettled by the unnecessary firmness of his handshake, the distant look behind his so obviously practiced smile, the way Billy, with his arm in a cast for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, loomed in the corner as Neil did his interrogation.

When he was satisfied with the answers he’d been given, sure that Steve wasn’t carting the kids around because he was a creep or something, he’d let him go with a slap to the shoulder that was a little too hard to be friendly, and made Billy, maybe as a show of some sort of old fashioned respect, walk him back to his car.

“Did he do that to you?” Maybe it was because his experience with his own father had made it easier to recognize, but Steve was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was going on here.

Billy kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders squared, defensive in a way that was distinctly un-Billy. The broken arm must have been preventing his fighting instincts from taking over, or maybe it was the guilt from already beating the shit out of Steve once. “Maybe.”

That was enough of an answer for him. “Look, if you ever need anything, just like, I don’t know, come find me or something, man.”

Billy’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of some response, but that had gotten to him. He kept his lips pressed in a flat line, and stared at Steve like he just grew a second head.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, just, my door is always open, or whatever.” It was extremely awkward, Steve offering help to the boy who’d literally just beat the shit out of him and concussed him like a month ago, but he could see through him.

The scar in his eyebrow didn’t come from their fight, nor did the cast on his arm. Seeing the way Neil acted, the saccharine smile he wore as he made subtle threats on him when he literally did nothing but drive his daughter around, he had enough to figure out that those injuries had been from what Billy had faced once he came home that night.

Billy hadn’t said anything, just scoffed and turned around to go back into his house, but a week later he showed up at Steve’s house, having gotten the address off of their sort of mutual friend Tommy, with a broken nose and bled all over his living room carpet, and the rest was history.

Steve walked him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat, popping open the first-aid kit where it sat on the tiled counter. “Where’re you hurt?”

A nervous habit of his, Billy was chewing on the side of his thumb nail. His gaze flickered between Steve’s face and the framed painting behind him on the wall. “S’my ribs.”

Steve got him to shrug out of the two different jackets he was wearing, his first winter in the Midwest had proved to be far too cold for a Cali-raised boy like Billy, and pull the Henley shirt he had on over his head. The damage hidden underneath was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

Reaching out, Steve gingerly touched the deep purple bruises littering the other boy's chest and ribs. He felt breathless, this was by far the worst he’d ever seen it. “Jesus, Bills.”

Billy wasn’t very good at accepting sympathy from others. It made him feel all squeamish to be fussed over, and Steve was the king of fussing over him. He muttered, “Think there’s a cut towards the back.”

Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s forearm and gently pushed his arm up over his head to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a gash about 6 inches long on his left side. “What the hell did he do to you?”

Billy sniffs, looks away and says, like it’s nothing, “Steel-toes break the skin easier.”

Every time they did this, Steve’s heart broke into a million little pieces. The nonchalance of it all was the worst part, the way it was so normal for Billy to have his father kick him until his ribs were bruised black and bleeding, it made him so sad to see his Billy that way.

He let Billy put his arm down and crossed his own arms over his chest, “You’re gonna need stitches.”

“You know how to sew.” Another shot right in his heart, Steve didn’t know how much of this he could handle.

“Barely. And this is completely different.” Steve stepped forward and put his hand on the side of Billy’s face, keeping him from looking away again to stare at that stupid painting on the wall. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it, Stevie. Either you do it or I will.” If Billy gave an ultimatum, he meant it.

He definitely didn’t know how to sew, it was a skill considered too feminine to be taught to a son despite its usefulness, so he never learned how, but if Steve didn’t agree he would’ve very much done it and hurt himself a thousand times more in the process just to prove a point

So Steve reluctantly did it, made Billy hold his arm over his head and turn to face the other wall so he could see it better. Not that he was an overly emotional person, or maybe he just wouldn’t admit he was, but the sight before him put tears in his eyes.

Billy caught that, and despite the swell of nervousness in his own chest as he saw Steve threading a needle from out of the kit, he offered comfort to his boyfriend.

“Only a few more months before I’m outta there, then we won’t have to worry about this shit any more.” Billy would turn 18 in June, just under three months from now, but when he showed up at Steve’s door bloodied and bruised every other day, that long stretch of time offered no comfort.

It wouldn’t be as easy as Billy seemed to think it was to leave. He wouldn’t have any money, the Camaro wasn’t in his name, so he wouldn’t have any way to get around, and he didn’t even know where he would stay yet. That was all hypothetical for if he’d even be able to leave too.

With an abusive father constantly looming over his shoulder and keeping tabs on him, he’d know he was going to leave and try to stop it at all costs. It was only a matter of time before he started trying to manipulate Billy into staying.

It clearly didn’t have the desired effect on Steve. Billy’d even offered his assurances with a smile, but his boyfriends face stayed grim as he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad so he could start to try to stitch it shut.

They stayed silent after that, while Steve tried to steady his shaking hands for long enough to get the needle in and out of Billy’s skin without hurting him too bad. The only break in the silence was the occasional gasp from Billy when Steve made another hole in his skin, or the noise drifting up from when the kids started yelling downstairs.

After a few more times in and out he was able to tie it off, the sutures were sort of crude, but were doing their job, and he made Billy move his arm all around to make sure they wouldn’t tear right through his skin. Once he was appeased, he made him put a new shirt on, the other one stained with his blood would have to be washed.

Billy stood up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m gonna be okay baby.”

Steve reached his arms around the back of Billy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know but-“

Cutting him off with a quick kiss, Billy interjected. “It doesn’t matter about him as long as I have you.” Another peck to his lips. “Love you.”

It hardly did anything to cheer Steve up or comfort him, but there wasn’t anything that could when every night, he sent his boyfriend back into the arms of a monster. He sighed and ran his fingers through the long hair at the back of Billy’s neck. “I love you too.”

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Billy pulled away to grab his jacket off of the counter. Shrugging the layers back onto his shoulders, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. “I should go. The nerd herd’s gonna wonder where we went.”

“I want you to stay.” Steve kissed him one more time. “Not gonna let you go back to him yet.”

Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve must’ve been looking as sad as he felt, because Billy sighed and gave in. “Fine. But your kids aren’t going to be too happy about that.”

“They’ll be fine.” Billy always seemed to underestimate just how much the kids liked him.

It was true that they hadn’t been his biggest fans at first, but when they first started doing this, Steve made him swear he’d apologize to them, and he did.

They were smart kids, they understood how the situation had looked when he got pissed, all of them hiding from him in a strangers house, and they understood the implications too of him begging Max to leave with him and his arm being broken literally the next day when she hadn’t.

It wasn’t immediate forgiveness, they were pretty wary around him until they felt he’d done enough to prove that he meant it when he apologized, but they’d all more or less accepted it by now.

Because he hadn’t stopped after just saying sorry. The words themselves never meant much to him at all, what with the situation he grew up in, so he tried to show them he was sorry.

Which was how he had become the secondary chauffeur after Steve, taking more than just Max home after trips to the movies or the arcade, and consequently how he had started helping them sneak around.

More than a few times he’d helped them smuggle Eleven out of her dad's cabin, because he understood feeling trapped, before he had his own car Neil had been able to keep him under 24/7 surveillance. He always covered for Lucas too, driving him home first before anyone else, and when Neil wanted to know who Max had been with, he’d lie and say it was just Dustin or El. After what happened it felt like the least he could do, but Steve was right, by now, they were pretty much over it.

Either way, he didn’t exactly want to have to explain away why he and Steve had disappeared upstairs for the last hour, hour and half. They might forgive him for his stupid outburst, but he couldn’t be sure where they drew the line.

Steve smiled at him and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s wrist, pulling him out of the bathroom and back through the hallway to the stairs. “Just follow my lead.”

Any semblance of a plan was lost when they made it back to the kitchen, Billy leaning in the doorway while Steve announced his presence, and they saw Eleven washing blood off of her hands in the sink.

There were some things Billy knew he’d never understand about these kids, Steve had made him promise he wouldn’t ask questions even though that was what had got them into a fight in the first place, so, despite his confusion, he didn’t even try to ask.

Not even when Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimanded her. “Oh, you were not spying on me.”

She smiled coyly. “I was.”

Billy felt the blood drain out of his face, felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he and Steve exchanged a look of fear. Steve stuttered and started trying to explain. “Listen you guys-“

Dustin cut him off, always overly eager to complain. “She won’t tell us anything.”

Nodding, Mike agreed. “She says it’s an ‘invasion of your privacy’.” He used air quotes around the last part as if spying on people in their own homes wasn’t exactly that.

The fear on Steve's face shifted into anger as he pointed his finger in Mike's face. “That’s because it is. I told you little shits a thousand times: no spying.”

Lucas interjected, agreeing with his friends. “What’s it matter if she won’t tell us anyways?”

Max fixed him with a deadly look and scoffed. “It matters because she didn’t want to and you made her. Why should she tell you what she saw?” Typically, Max would be on Lucas’ side, but they must’ve been fighting again.

Billy, watching the scene unfold while leaning on the door frame, clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and announced. “Seems like I walked into something.” He turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. “Catch ya ‘round, Harrington.”

Before he could get away, Steve grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged, stopping him dead in his tracks. “No way. You’re not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”

“Your children aren’t my responsibility.” He reminded him, but he had no actual intentions of actually leaving and they both knew that.

The kids hadn’t understood at first why Steve got along with Billy after he’d been the one to be beat up, so, to put it in a way that made sense to the brats, they pretended to argue so it seemed like they were only begrudgingly hanging out, and so far, they hadn’t seen through it.

Steve had a retort ready, but Dustin beat him to it. The kids were constantly rubbing it in Billy’s face that they’d turned him into a babysitter too. “Yeah, we kind of are.”

Lucas, obviously only trying to get some sort of points towards Max’s forgiveness, agreed. “Especially since one of us is your totally awesome sister.” Max just rolled her eyes at his attempt.

Realizing he was still holding onto Billy’s jacket, Steve pulled him back into the room and let go. “You’re staying.” He turned to Will and asked him like nothing had happened, “So what are we playing?”

Unsurprisingly, the kids had developed tiny attention spans. They'd gotten quite the taste for crazy adventures, so unlike normal teenagers, activities like watching movies and playing truth or dare all night wouldn’t really do it for them.

Since Steve had left, they’d apparently played through two different games and had been about to start a third before they decided to spy.

Mike tells them, “We’ve narrowed it down to Uno and Monopoly.”

“Mike, Will, and Max vote Monopoly. Me, Lucas, and El vote Uno.” Dustin further explained, “We need a tie breaker.”

“I’m not any good at Monopoly. Too much counting.” Steve nudged Billy with his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“Last time I played Monopoly I broke someone's nose, and I’m colorblind. Don’t think my vote counts.” Neither of those facts are particularly untrue, but the only reason Billy brings them up is because he’s still trying to deny that he’s their babysitter.

Staying for Steve, whatever, that was fine, but playing board games with the little shits, that would be giving in, admitting that he wasn’t above hanging out with middle schoolers on a Friday night.

But he doesn’t get out of it, because with the excitement of all of the kids combined, Will pipes up. “Don’t worry, I am too! My mom put shapes on all the cards so I can tell the difference.”

He hurries and fishes out the playing deck, bringing it straight to Billy to look through. “See! Reds are squares, greens are circles, yellows are stars, and blues are triangles!”

Steve smirks at Billy, at the defeated look on his face. “Looks like you’re not getting out of this one, Hargrove.”

Tumblr decided this was too long, go ahead and finish reading on ao3! Over there I’m ej_writer !

[janekfan]

Fair

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298580

Secret Santa gift for @alextblue!

This was such a lovely prompt! I hope you like it!!

Keep it together or they’ll never invite you out again.

He knew when he woke up, tangled in the duvet and soaked in a cold sweat that it was going to be a bad day. No matter how deep a breath he heaved, none of the air reached its way to the bottom of his lungs, caught it seemed on the tight band crushed around his ribs.

Relax.

Just relax.

Everything is fine.

More than fine.

Great even.

Jon was meeting Martin and Tim at an outdoor festival and with the weather for once bright and sunny, it was going to be a wonderful day. In succession, he tightened each muscle, holding himself stiff before relaxing and shoving the thrumming anxiety to the back of his awareness where it hung like a trembling red wire.

Shower. Clothes. Hair loosely tied. Tea.

Stomach unsettled, his toast remained untouched on the counter.

Keys, wallet, phone. Each in their appropriate pocket.

Deep breath. Two. Three.

“I’m alright.” Because he was. There was no reason for this. None at all and he was going to end up being too much of a nuisance for his friends. Maybe he should cancel. No. No. Who knew when he’d get another chance to prove he was more than their arse of a boss and worth having around.

The train went well. He made it to the predetermined meeting place in the park early as was his wont and checked his phone for messages. Predictably, Tim was running a few minutes late but Martin would be here soon and sure enough Jon saw him weaving his way politely through the crowd, raising his arm up to catch his attention.

“Jon!”

“Martin.” When he dug up a smile from somewhere Martin’s face lit up in response and a jolt not unlike lightning ran up Jon’s spine. A strong arm landed over his shoulders and the smell of Tim’s aftershave assaulted him right before his enthusiastic greeting.

“Hullo, gents!”

For a little while, Jon was able to lose himself in the music, the sights, the people watching, settling his nerves with a pint and prattling on about obscure music genres much to Martin’s apparent enjoyment. Tim ribbed him good naturedly and only commented on the blush (not from Martin grinning at him, thank you very much) from the alcohol traveling up his neck and settling high in his face.

“Thank you, Tim.” Voice measured and academic, Jon accepted the next pint with a hand forcibly held still, relaxing on the bench with Tim sprawled comfortably next to him. Martin was locating food and would meet them back here.

“Whoa! Slow down, champ.” Jon had downed half of it without thinking and was now looking dazedly at the plastic in his hand. “You alright, boss?”

“Mm. Yes, of course. Was thinking, is all.” A knobby elbow nudged his side and Jon suppressed a ticklish yelp.

“Thinking.” The way he drew out the word and raised a brow made Jon grateful for his already rosy cheeks.

“Stop! No!” Tim raised his hands in supplication.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say!” He all but tackled Tim when he pulled out his phone and began texting and that’s how Martin found them, tangled up with each other, Jon’s fingers in a deathgrip around the device to prevent him from spreading gossip. Tim just laughed, loud and bright and Martin, the traitor, snapped a picture before doling out the kebab.

It was shortly after lunch that Jon felt the strain of the hours spent pressed between strangers and overwhelmed by sounds and colors and the deep breaths weren’t helping anymore. Instead, Jon’s whole chest ached from how tight it was strung, tied up in knots drawn tighter with each attempt. Incessantly, he checked his watch, trying to hide it from the pair chatting just ahead of him, but the minutes weren’t moving and all he wanted to do was escape the throng, nails digging painful crescent moons into his palms as he clenched his hands into aching fists. His heart was pounding, the sun beating down without mercy and he regretted his previous decision to quaff beer like there was a drought when the nausea returned.

Jon was on autopilot, eyes fixed forward, one step after another after another after another with his heart fluttering in a throat so narrow he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. So he tugged on Martin’s sleeve, gesturing clumsy and stiff to the edge of the green.

“Just. Just be a, a minute, yeah?” The concern in his eyes was suffocating. He was ruining this.

“Everything alright, Jon?” He’d reached a hard limit. There were no more words left, no more air, so he nodded, flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and walked away rigid and panting through an endless sea of jostling bodies.

Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why couldn’t he handle this like all the rest of them? Why did he have to be so difficult he needed to be invited to things out of pity?

What is wrong with you?

Jon hadn’t realized he’d yanked his hair out of its loose bun and was tugging on it until his head began to hurt. He stumbled more than once, vision going grey at the edges and what had only been anxiety before was swiftly sliding sideways into a panic attack. Dizzy. Where before he felt tense, as though breathing too deeply might crack him straight in half, now he was suffocating, arguing with himself:

Can’t breathe.

You can.

Back and forth, almost to the border and across the street to a bench, out of the way. Invisible. He’d fall apart here, scrape himself back together, and head back to find Martin and Tim. Ten minutes. He checked his watch. He’d give himself ten minutes. Panting, he pressed a hand to his breastbone, trying to force himself to calm down, relax, take in some air to prevent the black from spiraling further. Briefly, wildly he’s--

Dying.

Not. Shut up shut up shut up.

His ten minutes were almost up and it had been more like ten seconds. His chest hurt and he couldn’t breathe and his pulse was galloping out of control and filling his ears with a pounding, pounding, pounding. His fingertips were numb, he was light headed and trembling with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. He wanted Martin. He wanted Tim. He wanted nobody to see him like this. He couldn’t decide which was worse god he was pathetic just get ahold of yourself, Jonathan Sims!

Curled up impossibly small, wracked violently with chills and panic, Jon poured all his energy into staying silent and when a warm hand landed on his shoulder his shout of surprise was trapped behind clenched teeth. He looked up into Martin’s wide eyes and felt his own spill over with tears and a muffled sob. He’d been caught and the panic only rose higher until Martin laid a heavy hand across his shoulder blades.

“Jon. You need to take a breath.”

“C’c ah an’t.” He’d been trying. And failing. Always failing.

“You can, I promise.” And when he demonstrated, exaggerated, deep, Jon felt a pang of jealousy at how easy it came to him. “You can.” A sip of air made it through, then another. “Good, there you go, slow, good.”

“What’s happened?” With Tim came a fresh wave of tears and he sat beside Jon so that he was bracketed by the pair of them. “Oh, Jon. Okay, doing great, bud.”

“I’m,” he paused, swallowed another gulping breath. “M’sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.” Jon wasn’t altogether certain Martin could be believed. “Just breathe, in, out. Good.”

“Okay…m’okay.”

“It’s alright if you’re not. Take your time.” Jon slumped forward under the weight of it all, exhausted and sore and full to bursting with guilt.

“I’m j’just. I’m sorry.” It wasn’t enough. His apologies never were and he didn’t know what else to say, what would make this better. “I didn’t mean. I.” Martin shushed his babbling, pressing a cool bottle of water into his shaking hands and wouldn’t hear anymore out of him until he’d downed at least a third.

“Jon?” The silence was becoming too much under the scrutiny of the pair of them and he just wanted to forget his little episode and get back to the festival so they would smile again instead of look at him with pity.

“We can, we can go back now.”

“Jon?” Of course, why would they want him to tag along anymore after this foolishness?

“Or I, I can leave, uh, go home. Yes. Yes, I’ll go home and see you at work. T’tomorrow.” Ignoring their noises of distress, Jon sprang to his feet and almost went down again when a wave of vertigo tilted the street. He was guided by careful hands back to the bench, head gently pressed down between his knees.

“Why didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?” Tears traced his nose, falling to the pavement below but he forced them back, speaking in a very small voice in an attempt to contain his histrionics.

“Didn’t want to ruin our day.”

“What?”

“I know. I, I did anyhow, I’m--”

“You’ve not ruined anything, Jon.” Martin was so kind, too kind. And here he was squandering it.

“Yeah, boss. It happens, no harm done.” They didn’t understand and Jon clapped both hands over his mouth before it could all come bursting out, how much this meant to him and how upset he was to have lost his chance. It rushed forth anyway, too big, too vast, and not wholly intelligible.

“I know I was only invited because of Martin and I. I.” This was embarrassing and he wasn’t able to stop himself. He never could. “I was hoping I'd be w’welcome next t’time? If only I, I were on my best behavior.” Good lord, he was crying again, a mess, here in the street where he was probably drawing all manner of looks. They shouldn’t have to put up with this. “I, I know I can be, be awful. I don’t, I’m rude and quick to irritation and I’m, I’m--” Gasping. He’d worked himself into another bout or maybe he hadn’t even come down from it in the first place.

“Breathe, Jon.” Stern and his teeth clicked with the force of their collision. “Breathe.” Only when he wasn’t on the verge of passing out did Martin continue. “Jon, I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt this way.”

“If I’d known--” Tim was quiet. “I shouldn’t have assumed it wasn’t your scene. I didn’t. No. I mean, I didn’t, but that’s no excuse.”

“No, no it’s. It isn’t your--I. I.” It was him. “I.” Tim swept him up into an embrace, exerting the perfect pressure across his shoulders and he melted into the warmth like he’d done back in research a time or two.

Or three.

Maybe four.

“We’ll finish talking about this later, alright? When you’ve had some sleep.”

“I, I don’t--it’s…” When Martin’s firm grip enveloped his shoulder Jon gave up, let the rest of it all go. “I’m--”

“Don’t say it. Don’t need to be.”

“You’re our friend, Jon.”

“But--”

“Nope!” Tim helped him stand, took his arm in his and set off towards the underground. “Martin, my dear, my darling, if you’re amenable, I think I’d like to finish our spectacular day with a few drinks at mine.” Jon went red. “I don’t think you’ve yet had the pleasure of meeting my good friend Three-Shot Sims.”

“Tim!” Martin had the audacity to pretend to think about it.

“You know, Tim.” And both ignored Jon’s sputtering in favor of nearly carrying him down the street. “I don’t think I have!” With no other choice and knowing he’d be under no pressure to perform that particular introduction, Jon let Tim guide him along.

“Oh, Marto, my boy. He’s a real treat.”

[fakecrfan]

Ok. So Martin has to figure out what the Eye is at some point before the Goggles Incident or else he wouldnt know to blind himself to escape, right? So. When and how did he figure that out? And like, I get that he cant accept what the Eye offers as real love but wouldn't he try bargaining to, idk, date elias or smthg if the other 3 are released kind of like in aoye? Why would the Eye not go for that in this scenario?

Okay so--yes. Martin does discover what’s going on before the goggles incident. And of course, he discovers you can quit by gouging your eyes out. But it happens in phases.

Phase 1: he gets into the tunnels sometime after the Jane Prentiss threat blows over (but Martin’s been evicted and he’s weirdly having trouble finding a new place.) He gets information on the entities in general from Leitner.

Martin still promises he’ll come back and they’ll exchange more info. When he does come back, he finds Leitner completely fucking dead, so that’s how that goes.

(There is also some drama with the polycule and how they react to the tunnels--but I got another ask on that so I will expound on that Later :) )

Phase 2: Martin, after so much running around and trying to find out what eye monster is doing this and trying to wheedle information from people, gets straight up told by Elias that the Eye is in love with him. Martin does not accept this at first.

Phase 3: Melanie quits.

And you see, this is quite an accomplishment. Jon does now tell her how to quit in this AU, because Jon simply does not find Eric’s tape. Melanie follows Eric’s path in a more--indirect way. She goes through the process trial and error herself.

Of course her first instinct is to simply murder Elias. This prompts consternation from the rest of the polycule. Even Martin objects, also worried about all of them dying, to which Melanie throws something at him and screams not everything is about what you want!

She does feel bad about it afterwards, but she decides that bad feeling must be more Eye brainwashing, so she smothers it intentionally and does not apologize.

The attempts on Elias’s life before standard procedure. The others stop getting riled up about them. It even becomes an integral part of the team atmosphere. Exchanges like: “Ah, sorry Tim, seems like Melanie poisoned everything in the fridge just in case Elias eats any of it” become an ordinary and accepted part of life at the Archives.

The murder attempts distract everyone from all her other attempts to free herself.

Melanie reads every single statement she can get her hands on, trying to find any mention of someone fighting successfully against an Entity’s influence. She finds the story of Agnes Montague freeing someone from the web-induced mind control with a kiss on the cheeks.

That gives Melanie an idea, and sets her on a path. The first stop on that path is Jude Perry.

(CW: self harm, serious self-injury, and self destructive behavior bordering on suicidal.)

Jude laughs at Melanie’s dilemma (she always did find other people’s misery funny) and laughs even more at her hypothesis. Still, when Melanie grits her teeth and explains what she wants from Jude, Jude grins.

“Well,” Jude says. “I can practically guarantee you won’t get anything out of it that you’re hoping for. But you are pretty, so how could I say no?”

Georgie, as Melanie’s emergency contact, is the one who gets called by the hospital and gets to see her bandaged up from the burns Jude left on one side of her face.

Georgie is also there when Melanie gets to wake up and find out it didn’t work--that the same intense pressure for her to return to the Institute is still there. Melanie sobs a bit over it, squeezing Georgie’s hand, but--she’s not done, either. Not remotely.

If it’s not that the Desolation gives some sort of protection from mind control, Melanie decides, it must be that different Entities cancel each other out. And if the Desolation cancels out the Web, then--there has to be one that cancels out the Eye.

And so Melanie’s path continues.

She tracks down Manuela Domingeuz, and then Helen.

Melanie gets locked in the dark box (willingly) for days, and spends some indeterminate amount of time stumbling in Helen’s corridors, listening to Helen’s giggles echo around the corner and wondering if she’ll ever get let out. In each of these it--Melanie can feel the Eye subside for a moment. Can feel her thoughts become her own again.

But once she’s out, the pressure is always back. Pushing her back to the Institute. Letting her know Martin is worried.

She has so, so many fights with Georgie throughout all of this. Because Georgie both disagrees with Melanie keeping everything to herself, and disagrees with everything Melanie is doing when Melanie actually explains any of it.

“This isn’t helping anything, Melanie! I can’t just sit by and watch you slowly kill yourself.”

“Where were you? Please tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re just as bad as Jon.”

They stop talking. They start talking again. Melanie gets increasingly more erratic and hostile in her interactions with everyone. Jon tells her a supernatural bullet is causing this but, “It’s fine, we’ll make sure you stay one of Us enough to keep clear headed.”

She throws something at him, and screams.

Georgie wants her to stop trying. Wants her to focus on self-preservation, and stop self destructing for no foreseeable gain.

“And just let them keep controlling me?” Melanie mumbles, pressed up against Georgie’s shoulder.

“You’d still be alive, though,” Georgie says. “That has to be worth something.”

Melanie almost gives in, then. Only for a second, though. The problem is that Georgie’s words have the exact opposite of the effect Georgie intends. Because Melanie hears that and feels her heart melt and something in her goes: oh, this is what real love is.

She compares it to the foreign obsession that grips her at the worst of times, and she makes a choice.

Next week, Melanie locks herself in her own apartment. She knows she’ll get sick if she doesn’t go back to the Institute. It’s time to see if it will really kill her--or else, call her bluff.

Her phone blows up. She shuts it off and throws it out the window. Over the next few days, it becomes impossible to sleep. She paces, vomits, and scratches at herself. She gets furious, breaks things, kicks things, and cries through it all. She feels an ache in her leg, and thinks about what Jon told her about the bullet.

“Well,” she says, through the haze of lost sleep. “Maybe I can stop one thing from controlling me, at least.”

She cuts up her own leg. Messily, bloodily, not having enough foresight to sterilize the knife or have sutures or gauze ready to go. It’s pure luck that she doesn’t hit a major artery in the process, and that she gets it out.

Then, she hears knocking at the door.

“Fuck off!” she yells.

“Melanie?”

The voice makes her blood run cold. Martin. Her eyes move towards the door without her permission.

“Sasha said you were--you were doing--” Martin swallows. “Melanie, please. You don’t have to--”

Her head spins. She stands up, and heads for the door. She shakily unlocks it as though in a trance, and when she sees Martin on the other side she knows exactly why. The sight of him makes that alien thing at the back of head light up like fireworks.

She also knows, instantly, that Martin came himself because he knew that he’d be able to get her to stop. Because the second he thought hard enough about not wanting her to hurt herself, she wouldn’t be able to. That he's started to believe in the Eye's “love” enough to use it, in this case.

“You,” she tells him, still light-headed, “are a fucker, Martin.”

He doesn’t even defend himself. She hates him for that.

“What did you---your leg. Okay, shit, we need to get you to a--let me call--”

Melanie tries to move her head away. She can’t. She tries to at least blink. She can’t. She’s locked in eye contact with him, and those same fireworks are going off in her head.

Does Melanie work it out, at that moment?

She does think, briefly, of Manuela’s darkness. How that darkness blotted out the Eye’s influence, if only for a moment. About how Manuela ritualistically scratched out photographs of eyes, while Melanie was there. But maybe Melanie still doesn’t really make the intellectual connection.

Maybe it’s just spite.

She can’t move her own goddamn eyes. If it’s gonna be that way, then at the very least the Beholding shouldn’t get them either. And so, Melanie takes the knife she’d just used on her legs, and turns it on her own eyes.

The last thing she sees is Martin’s shrieking face--but the first thing she feels when she wakes up is Georgie’s hand holding hers, and that makes it worth it.

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

speak the language of love (like you know what it means)

 "Have you had any experiences recently that have caused you stress or anxiety?”

 Yennefer snorts.

 “Well, I went from living in a 3000 square foot penthouse flat in Cintra to a hotel room in the middle of nowhere so—”

Geralts eyes widen. “That sounds like it would do it.”

Julian Pankratz, one of the Continent's most famous playboys, always invited to the hottest parties, always seen with the best of the best, is enjoying his lavish life in his huge Cintran apartment when he suddenly gets cut off by his parents and is sent to live in the middle of nowhere.

It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

(aka the incredibly indulgent schitts creek au that I wrote)

Bloody hell, Jaskier thinks to himself again as he dragged his suitcase through the mud. Well, one of his suitcases. One of his many, many suitcases. Looking at the small army of luggage surrounding him, he might be willing to admit that there may be a small chance he has overpacked and maybe the driver had a right to be annoyed but it’s too late to worry about that now. And what was he supposed to do? Receiving the news that he was suddenly getting kicked out and cut off meant that he wasn’t exactly in his prime packing mindset. Hence, he seems to have packed everything he owns, and who knows when he’s going to be going home.

If he's going to be going home.

Nope. Not thinking about that. He’s saving his breakdown about all this until he has had time to find lots of chocolate and lots of wine. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he somehow manages to drag himself along with his suitcases towards the front door.

 The Cock & Bull.

The Cock & Bull in Prickwell.

Despite it all, he has to admit the name is funny. He just wishes it wasn’t where he was going to be living for the foreseeable future.

Pushing the door open to the small hotel, he enters what he can only assume is the reception. It’s not a particularly large room and seems to be worse for wear (understatement of the century) but right now its most redeeming quality is its distinct lack of rain.

“Hello, welcome to the Cock and Bull. I’m Yennefer,” the woman behind the desk says tiredly, without looking away from her computer “How can I help you?”

“Hello – hi – I, uh - I believe there’s a reservation for me?” he asks “It should be under Pankratz, Julian Pankratz.”

She types the name into her computer and then frowns “I’ve got nothing down here.”

Shit. “Maybe under Alfred Pankratz?”

“Still not seeing anything.”

“Shit. Right,” he was hoping to keep this information private but without this place he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. “Erm so long story but my Dad kind of owns this place? And, I uh may have been slightly cut off? So my Dad booked me a room here as a punishment. He said forever but I’m pretty sure that was a joke and he’s just trying to teach me a lesson so he probably booked it for like a week or something?”

“Oh, that’s you. I assumed that email was a joke. But yeah, there is a room that I can put you in.”

“Great, so is it like a penthouse suite or-?”

“It’s a single room. Sorry, all our suites are booked up.” She replies with what he thinks may be sarcasm “Here’s your key. It’s room 4, just up the stairs on the right. Breakfast is from half 7 to 10 in the morning. If you need anything else, I’ll be here.” “Right.” He looks at the mountain of luggage behind him “So is there like a concierge or someone to carry my bags?”

“Do we look like the kind of place that has a concierge?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you’re here maybe you could—"

“I have to watch the desk,” she says simply.

“Well is there a lift or anything?”

“Round the corner, but it’s a bit temperamental. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Great.”

It takes him an embarrassingly long time and an embarrassing number of trips but eventually he manages to get all his bags up the stairs into the room.

He looks around the room. It’s not the worst place he’s ever stayed, but its close. His bags take up almost fill the room, not that there is much else in it: a small bed, a bedside table, a tiny wardrobe that can barely fit half of suitcase in it, a small TV and the most disgusting wallpaper that he has ever seen.

The one saving grace of the room is the window, or rather the view out the window. Out of the small window, in the distance he can just about make out a sandy beach and the blue of the sea.

A shower. That will make him feel better.

He steps into the tiny cubicle and lets the lukewarm water trickle over him, but instead of making him feel better, the only thing running through his mind is the conversation he had with his parents only a few hours ago.

 “We’re cutting you off, Julian,” his father announced, storming into his bedroom and ripping open the curtains.

 “I’m sorry?” He glanced at the clock and realised he had only been in bed for about 2 hours, having been out all night and stumbling in at 6am. He was not prepared in the least for a visit from his father. At least this time he hadn’t brought anyone home, the last time his father had barged in for a morning lecture they had had to wait awkwardly whilst the model he had spent the night with gathered her clothes and left.          

 “We’re cutting you off,” Alfred repeated, “You’ve been gallivanting around and partying far too much and wasting all my money and I’m sick of it,”

 “Well its on my card so technically its my money!”

 “No it isn’t! It is my money that I earned by working, and I will not have you waste it whoring yourself out all over the place!”

 “I am not ‘whoring myself out’! And you gave that money to me and put it on my card so it’s mine!”

 “I gave it you in the hopes that you would do something worthwhile with it but you’ve just pissed it up the wall, wracking up debts and you’ve turned this family into a laughing stock.”

 “Well, I’m sorry for having a bit of fun! Gods.”

 “Well, the fun is over now. I’ve cancelled all your accounts and I’ve sold your flat, which should just about cover the debts and we’re sending you away—”

 “What do you mean ‘you’re sending me away’? I’m not a fucking child! I’m an adult and you can’t just sell my house and kick me out onto the street like some kind of dog!”

 “I’m not kicking you out. I’ve booked you a room in a hotel.”

 Oh well, that changes things, he had thought. A few nights in the Savoy while he waits for them to calm down won’t be too bad.

 “The car will be here to pick you up in 20 minutes and it will take you to your flat to sort your things before taking you to Kaedwen.”

 “Kaedwen? Why the fuck is it taking me to Kaedwen?”

 “I told you – I’ve booked you a room on a hotel. And you’ll stay there for two months until you’ve sorted yourself out.”

 “But why Kaedwen? Wait – are you sending me to that hotel you bought ages ago for a joke?” His father just nods and Jaskier lets out a manic laugh. “Of course you are. Fine send me off to the middle of fucking nowhere. But why are you selling my flat if I’m only there for 2 months?”

 “Oh, you won’t be coming back. I’m only paying for the room for 2 months, and then it’s up to you,” he says matter-of-factly.

 “But – I – you can’t!”

 “Oh, I think you’ll find I can and I am,” his father says calmly “Ten minutes Julian.”

So he was taken to his flat and given half an hour to pack his belongings whilst the driver – Jon or Jan or Pieter or something – stands and watches on, whilst he frantically he throws all the clothes he can find into a suitcase, grabbing whatever he can. He at least got some help carrying his bags down to the car and throwing them in the back. Then with another glare he was shepherded into the back of the car and they were off and, well here he is.

He steps out the shower and dries himself off with towels that seem to be made from carboard, cursing himself for not packing his ones from his flat. He picks out some dry clothes and makes his way downstairs to reception.

“Do you have towels?”

“Are there not any in your room?”

“If you mean the two sheets of sandpaper that seem to be lying on my bed then yes there are. But I cannot use them.”

“Why not?” “Why not? Did you not hear me say sandpaper?”

“Those towels are perfectly fine”

“If you don’t value your skin then I suppose so.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“My towels?”

“You’ve got your towels.”

“Are you always this rude?”

“Only to people who deserve it.”

“And what I have I done to deserve it? I am in an extremely stressful situation right now, and all I want to do is take a bath, preferably with a toaster, and forget that this whole thing is happening ok?”

Yennefer stares at him, and he prays that she can’t see the desperation that is almost certainly plastered across his entire face.

“Fine, I think I have some new towels in the back. Give me a minute,” she says whilst moving towards what he guesses is the back “I’m only doing this so that you’ll leave me alone.”

She pauses at the door and turns to him, “And because you called me rude. I take that as a compliment.” And with that she’s gone.

Jaskier turns and takes another look at the room he now finds himself in, and what he now realises, with sinking heart, is going to be his new home for a while. It’s a fairly plain room, blank white walls with a few cracks running through the old plaster. There are old beams running along the ceiling and there’s a nice stone fireplace in the corner and on any other day he probably would go so far as to call it nice – a sort of country chic right out of a cute rom-com. But right now the sight of it just makes him angrier.

He is snapped out of his reverie by towels being shoved into his face.

“Here.”

Jaskier takes them and runs his fingers over them. They are still nothing compared to the lovely Egyptian cotton towels that are sitting back in his flat, but they’re better than what he had. They’ll have to do. Standing up from his chair, he suddenly realises how hungry he is.

“Is there somewhere I can get something to eat?”

“There’s a café across the road that’s open all day. There’s the pub as well if you consider an ancient packet of crisps as food.”

“Café it is then.”

read the rest on AO3!

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 13

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Part 12

Damienette arranged marriage: part 13

NEXT

-----------------------------------------------------

"Shut up Superboy." Damian frowned. He had to restrain himself not to out Kent in front of the irritating girl. He wished he just got Mari home when he had a chance.

"I though we were on the first-name basis Robin!"

The sound of Damian's facepalm could be heard in Fortress of Solitude.

----------------------

"What?" Jon asked confused. He had no idea what he did wrong.

"tt. I am getting that dusters Kent. And if I go down because of you, I am taking you down with me."

Chloe stood there with gaping mouth. Her brain was short-circuiting. The mysterious Damian Wayne dating Marinette? Okay. Them being already married? She heard weirder, but it was close. Him being raised inside of some cult in tibet? Okay. Weirdest day ever. Damian Wayne being Robin? Utterly Ridiculous. And yet he was there, bantering with Superboy like they knew each other for years. And it would add up to his skill with sword. Chloe, contrary to popular belief was not stupid. A bit lazy, prideful, maybe tiny miny mean? Sure. But not stupid. Adding three to seven together is not above her.

"I think I might have broken your wife Damian..." Jon said a bit uncertain while waving his hand in front of the blonde.

Wayne heir held back the urge to facepalm again. "tt.I swear I would feed you to Titus if not the risk you would cause him some stomach problems. This is not my wife!"

"Uh... So she was not supposed to know you are Robin..." Jon asked sheepishly.

"You are an idiot." Damian scowled and turned to Chloe. "Tell anyone and I will hand you to my mother." He then opened his case to reveal his outfit. He looked through his belt. He was sure he had the talisman somewhere...

"You are Robin... And you are Damian Wayne... That means Bruce Wayne is Batman... But you are also married to Dupain-Cheng..." Chloe was murmuring/babbling to herself, trying to sort the influx of information. Finally, Damian pulled a small ruby in golden ring. There were some words around it that were definitely not human. He also pulled a small piece of paper from the same pocket.

"tt. Mother of Azarath! Drain the curse and free the body!" He recited the spell and gem glowed slightly. Then, there was a loud Crack! and the ruby broke, turning almost black.

"Uh... Robin? What was that?"

Damian didn't answer, but instead glared at the kryptonian making him immediately shut up and just float there in silence.

Chloe finally shook off the shock. She walked to him and smashed the lid of the case right in front of him. "I don't care if you are a fucking billionaire superhero! You are not going out there with twisted ankle! You are not making my only friend a widow!"

"tt. I am not sitting here."

"And I don't care." She stated simply and turned to Superboy.

"Kent, right? Keep him here. I am going to get some real help."

"What? You have a bat-signal or something..." Jon stopped when he saw the grin on her face.

------------------------------

Marinette ran through the city. She had to get to Tikki. The Cat was hot on her trail. No matter how much she tried, he seemed to be able to get her. She tried calling for help, but people just straight up ignored her. She run through the whole crowd and nobody even batched an eye. For a brief moment she wanted to go to her home and grab some other miraculous, but then she remembered that she still had no idea how to open the new box without her yo-yo. There was no instruction on that thing.

She could hear steps above her on the roofs, but luckily the Hotel Grand Paris was already in sight. She doubled her efforts, completely ignoring the pain. Adrenaline coursing through her veins numbed the pain enough to allow for this. Somewhere on the back of her mind she noticed that nobody paid any attention to her. She just ignored it for now and dashed to the elevator. In any normal circumstances stairs would be safer, but she had no way of outrunning Chat d'Amour on stairs. She could only hope that he didn't know she took the elevator

Sadly, he did. She heard something crash with the doors, but luckily the elevator already started going up. She knew he was hot on her trail, but unless he cataclysmed both the doors and the floor, he would not reach her in time. Poor Plagg. Having to experience all this...

When she reached the top floor, she dashed to Chloe's room. She had to get there before Chat could see her. She needed to transform.

Marinette barged into the room and straight to her purse. Kwami floated out. She wanted to say something, but the time was running out. "Tikki! Spots on!"

In a flash of pink light, she was transformed. The lingering pain didn't stop, but she happily noticed that there were no more effects from falling from the roof. Just then, Chat d'Amour entered the room. He was fuming with anger.

"Ladybug!? What have you done with my purrincess?!"

"She is safe away. Probably already downstairs and running away. What happened to you Kitty?" She asked with worry.

"No. You've done something to her. I can't sense her anymore... What have you done to her!" He shouted and lunged at Ladybug, but the red heroine was able to deflect his attacks. He still scratched her several times. The suit stopped all but one of that. A small gush formed on her cheek. Nothing big and blood was minimal.

Marinette focused. He could track her. His akuma power must have included knowing exact location of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But right now she was not just Marinette. She was Ladybug, so her miraculous cancelled out with his ability. "I gave her mouse miraculous again Chat. You will not find her." She stated, trying to stay calm. This made Black Cat only double his attempts.

"You put her in danger just because of your jealousy?!" He made an overhead slash with his staff, which Ladybug blocked by crossing hands before her and pushing him away. "You are truly useless guardian! You do not deserve this earrings!" Chat was not giving up. He continued his assault.

"I would ask you to step back from the lady." Someone stated in English. Both combatants looked to where it originated only to see a boy wearing superman jacket on himself.

"And who purrr you?" Chat asked also in english. He looked unamused by a thirteen years old boy.

"Superboy. Nice to meet you. 'Ow ya' doin'?" The last sentence was with heavy southern accent that made it a bit hard to understand.

"Huh? Are you what? Superman Junior?" Chat had no idea who was that supposed to be. He seemed like some overly eager fan of the big blue.

"Oh! He is my dad!" Jon lightened up. He was pretty irritated that the cat doesn't know him, but maybe since Paris had their own heroes they didn't pay much attention to the rest of the world.

"Y-your dad?!" Suddenly Chat felt his confidence die. He believed in his abilities, but facing superman, even in version XS was still not something he wished for. Especially since he just wanted his princess.

"What's the matter Kitty? Afraid of a kid?" Ladybug teased. She looked for his Akuma, but there was so much off about him that she could not focus. This was Chat Noir she was talking about. He was... used to be her partner. She had to focus.

"You have no right to call me Kitty! I am Chat d'Amour and you are not my ladybug. You are not even fit to be Ladybug. You are adult but you didn't unlock your full potential! I will take your miraculous and hand them over to Marinette! She is better Ladybug than you! I will just need to borrow them to Hawkmoth for one moment and then I will be together with my true partner!"

"You are delusional Chat."

"Uh... English guys? Jon asked and both Marinette and Chat realized they switched back to French.

"Superboy! Pin him down so I can find his Akumatized object!"

"Cataclysm!" Chat Noir held his hand which was now bubbling with dark energy extended. "Try to get close and I will destroy you!"

"Uh... Ladybug, right?"

"He threatens to cataclysm you."

"Yyyy..."

"His special power is that he can destroy anything."

"Then we might have a problem. Magic can actually hurt Kryptonians..." Jon was suddenly not so eager to engage.

"Huh. Good to know." Chat quipped and lunged at Superboy. Ladybug acted practically on instinct, Tossing her yo-yo and grabbing him by the ankle. She pulled Chat and tossed him back. Perhaps because of the adrenaline or perhaps because of the anger, she underestimated his strength and Black Cat ended up flying out of the window. He used his staff to support his landing, but once he landed to support himself he had to touch the ground and wasted his cataclysm. From the highest level, Ladybug and Superboy could see him look up in defeat as a purple butterfly appeared around his face. He said something, but Jon did not understand French and Marinette couldn't hear him. Suddenly Chat d'Amour was covered in black and purple bubbles and turned back into Chat Noir. He looked angry and run away into the city.

Marinette wanted to chase after him, but suddenly the pain in her heart flared again. She suddenly detransformed and fell on her knees. The green glow around her heart got stronger and she was suppressing the scream of pain.

"I am so sorry Marinette. I tried to heal you... but this is some dark magic. Oh no! I think I made it worse..." Tikki was lamenting while floating next to the girl. The last thing Marinette rememebed before passing out from the pain was a scream and a pair of green eyes staring at her. There might have been some words, but she was unable to hear them.

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25

[adrenalinesaint]

@corvidamned​ asked

1. What is your favorite trope to rp? 3. Who are your longest rp friends? 6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

Favorite Trope

To be quite honest, I don’t know many tropes by name and never frequented the website TV Tropes, as many rpers tend to. Most of my knowledge of tropes in general comes from character archetypes and genre-specific, so I guess I can expound on those? Some, but not all, archetypes I favor include the femme fatale, the addict, the bard, the bumbling sidekick, and the bad boy. Some, but not all, genre-specific tropes I enjoy are cyberpunk corporate-owned prostheses (visa vis Major Kusanagi from Ghost in the Shell -- she doesn’t own her own body, Section 9 does), and amicable conversations w the devil in southern gothic or horror.

Longest Rp Friends

This is a tough one bc I tend to disappear for months at a time. But I’d like to think these folks are still my friends.

@the-arkham-librarian​ @corvidamned​ & A couple folks who have moved on from tumblr to other sites for their rp (mostly discord).

Tho to be honest, my Very Longest Standing friendship w other rpers is my irl friends. We’ve run the gamut from Dungeons and Dragons to Uncharted Worlds and Powered by the Apocalypse. We even did a Blades in the Dark once that was pretty neat. If anyone has any recs for new ttrpgs to try out, I’m all ears. Tho keep in mind!! We play over discord, so no actual tabletops lmfao.

3 Things I love Most About my Muse(s)

I’ll relegate this answer to DC-only muses. Lmk if yall want more/others, and/or a list of muses I’ve got in this noggin of mine.

Jonathan

His addiction. I can’t quite explain why, but writing an addict makes me feel less alone. Maybe I’m addicted to some stuff in my life too. I don’t really know for sure.

His disposition. Over the years I’ve worked hard to cultivate a nuanced disposition for my Jon. He started as very gruff and standoffish, but over time I’ve come to realize that being mean doesn’t make a person scary. It’s being kind, and knowing when to take that away.

The rpc and their general reception to my Jon. Everyone has always been very welcoming and supportive. I’ve really never gotten a negative word on this blog, except for the times people have tried to cancel me for making Granny Keeney a closeted lesbian. You decide if that’s a cancellable offense. Overall, everyone is very supportive and generous.

Lindsay @bloody-merry​

She was literally a throw-away character from a single comic that most people don’t even consider canon. I fucking love this. This means I get to do literally whatever I want with her. She’s essentially my OC now. Fuck off, DC, you didn’t treat her right. Let me take over.

Her overall arc so far, and what I’ve got planned for her in the future. I’ve had a lot of fun writing her as a relatively friendly and carefree young adult, and even more fun knowing that her high spirits are running on borrowed time. Know this: a day will come where Lindsay and Jonathan are indistinguishable except by gender and physical presentation. And it will hurt. A lot.

The way established rogues and heroes react to her. At first, they hear she’s the Scarecrow’s protege and think well, here comes a fight. But she’s just hyped to see real supers in person and wants a selfie. Also please don’t tell Jon. He’ll get furious if he hears she was acting buddy buddy with his nemeses.

Edward Nygma (coming soon)

Fashion. Eddie is one of my two muses who are obsessed with and adore fashion. Granted, that doen’t mean you’ll like his fashion. Au contrare, you’ll likely see him and think why is this man wearing so many prints at the same time? Well, that’s the riddle, ain’t it? It got you looking at him though. And that’s the point, moron!

My aggressively queer son. He is gnc and when asked his gender his response is a simple “Figure it out, dummy.” Don’t let the flamboyance lull you into an easy assumption that he’s strictly into men, though. And don’t let his flirtatiousness make you think he’s actually got any follow-through.

He’s Just Plain Fun. His banter and his style are just a hoot, fam. Fuck I miss this rowdy riddle boy.

[adultswim2021]

Home Movies #6: “Director's Cut” September 2, 2001 - 10:00 PM | S01E06 Home Movies! The first *OFFICIAL* thing to air on Adult Swim! Home Movies was created by Brendon Small, previously of nothing, and Loren Bouchard, previously of Dr. Katz: Professional Therapist. Produced by Tom Snyder Productions (renamed Soup2Nuts by the time this episode aired). This first season of Home Movies utilized Squigglevision, first used in Dr. Katz. The show originally aired on UPN for the first five episodes back in 1999 and was promptly cancelled due to low ratings. I was one of the very few people who caught it during the UPN run, I saw, I think, one and a half episodes. Then, it was gone. I probably would’ve forgotten all about it were it not for Adult Swim’s revival of it. I kind of faintly recall seeing the initial promos for this show and thinking I’d seen it before. Do I explain the premise of the show here now? Okay, I guess I will. Brendon is (googling how old he’s supposed to be) an 8-year-old boy who makes amateur camcorder movies with his friends. Brendon and his friends are smart for their age, owing to the fact that they are voiced by adults leaning on their improv chops. There’s a ton of improv in the show. Brendon lives with his single mother and his dad is largely absent due to freakin’ cancel culture. His father figure is an alcoholic soccer coach named McGurk, voiced by Jon Benjamin, formally Ben Katz on Dr. Katz. In fact, it took me a while before i got used to his voice coming out of McGurk’s mouth, because I so strongly associated it with Ben. The plot of this episode is that Brendon’s crew want to film a script written by Duane, an older kid who performs all the music for Brendon’s movies. He wrote a rock opera about Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis, which I have never and will never read. Brendon favors his own script and is jealous that Duane’s project is such a hit. The B-story is similar, McGurk is jealous of his assistant coach Drew who is doing a much better job than him. Drew is voiced by Larry Murphy, voice of Teddy from Bob’s Burgers and Assy McGee from Assy McGee. He speaks in what resembles his natural speaking voice, I assume, and you’d never guess it was him. I think this episode is good, but it’s light on laughs compared to episodes that came after it. Also, the literary references don’t thrill me. WE GET IT: YOU WENT TO COLLEGE. Big whoop. Go write for a Lampoon, why don’t you? I did listen to the DVD audio commentary for this (which are really funny! I forgot how funny they were!), which revealed that it was less about trying to find a literary reference and more about needing something public domain to make a rock opera about to avoid legal trouble. In fact, this episode was originally supposed to be a TRON rock opera. The other thing I have a mild distaste for is the aspiring film-maker character. You’d think I would hate this show, being that the whole thing is about an aspiring film-maker. Usually when there’s an aspiring film-maker character in a movie or TV show they are portrayed as a cutesy dreamer, and it usually doesn’t go deeper than that. Even though it’s reflecting a very true-to-life personality type I usually can’t stomach it in fiction. Who among us doesn’t know an obnoxious, borderline-delusional narcissist with stars in their eyes, getting off on acting the part of a bigshot creative type. But I guess all real-life bigshot creative types start out this way, so what the fuck kind of point am I even making right now? Anyway, there’s a scene in this episode where Brendon and his friends are negotiating the business side of their various projects and Jason demands “points” without having a firm grasp of what “points” are. It’s extremely funny, despite the weird hang-ups I described earlier. My favorite bit is the cold open, when McGurk questions why the team never carried him off the field in a celebratory manner after he witnesses Drew getting that treatment. “We tried once, but you were too big” Brendon says. McGurk is offended. “I mean, you were too... drunk” Brendon corrects himself. McGurk happily accepts. Goddamn, that’s a funny joke. Other things of note? This was the start of Adult Swim proper, with the old people swimming bumpers and whatnot. I think I touched on that stuff in one of my preamble posts, so I won’t belabor it here. But yes, this is technically the first Adult Swim show to air ON Adult Swim. What else? I like to complain about internet dorks who leap to wild conclusions about “unaired” episodes of shows, so I’ll do that to close this out. I think Home Movies fans tend to believe that this episode as well as the rest of “season one” as we know it were just laying around on broadcast master tapes spitefully not being aired by UPN until Adult Swim rescued it. I believe that there had to be a break in production which resumed sometime between UPN and Adult Swim, and MAYBE this episode was partially produced, but probably not. But since Brendon’s mom is now voiced by not Paula Poundstone (which she was in the UPN episodes), I’m lead to believe that this could almost be considered the start of a new season. I guess I’ll find out if they ever discuss this in the DVD commentaries (they didn’t in the one I heard).

[myrish-lace-love]

Fight/Flight/Freeze

Jonsa Halloween Day 3 - Tales or The Stranger

Summary:  Sansa Stark always looks forward to Halloween trips to the Wintertown pumpkin patch. This year, though, Joffrey Baratheon forces Sansa to go to the "Fright Fest" haunted house, a new addition to Wintertown's attractions. Sansa is stuck, until Jon Snow helps rescue her from danger. With Jon's help, Sansa remembers everything she loves about the Halloween season. For @jonsa-halloween

***

Sansa had grown up on Halloween tales of Samhain. The Gaelic holiday shared an evening with Halloween, and ushered in the darker half of the year. Her father had told them stories of how the barrier between the living and the dead thinned and shifted that night.

When Sansa’s mother passed away two years ago, Sansa’s father had tried to spin Samhain stories as a source of comfort, as a time when they all might feel closer to her. During the day, Sansa shared in the reminiscing about her mother, and could even bring herself to smile at some of her father’s stories.

Once night fell, that spell was broken, and a new spell descended. Sansa would keep the light on in her bedroom, startling each time the branches scraped against her window. When she closed her eyes, she'd seen her mother's ghost, red-eyed and terrible, shrieking for revenge. She'd woken up in tears each time.

She'd made the terrible mistake of calling Joffrey as she wept last Halloween. She'd imagined he'd be gallant, perhaps even come and rescue her.

Instead, Joffrey had been irritable, He’d hung up almost immediately. Sansa was mortified, but she's told herself at least it'd been quick - a phone call from a needy girlfriend that Joffrey would soon forget.

But the longer Sansa stayed with Joffrey, the more she understood that he coveted and collected moments of weakness. He derived a sick and twisted pleasure from exploiting those moments over and over.

Sansa had been raised to be a good and obedient girl, and for her that extended into being a good and obedient girlfriend, no matter the cost. Joffrey spent the rest of the year telling her grisly ghost stories and transforming movie night with his friends into horror fests.

Sansa had laughed, and tried to waive away her fears as part of just another game she and Joffrey played.

Joffrey's eyes would glint cruelly each time. He may not be able to tell when she was happy, or sad, or needed comforting, but he fed off her fear like a bloodsucking insect.

Sansa had tried to distract Joffrey this Halloween by offering up a trip to her favorite apple orchard, the Wintertown pumpkin patch. She'd expected to be turned down. She'd been excited, in fact, about taking Joffrey's inevitable cancellation and turning it into a trip with Margaery Tyrell. Margaery’s constant quest to get Sansa to break up with Joffrey would simply be a bonus.

Instead, to her surprise, he'd readily agreed.

Read more below or on AO3

Sansa had sighed, but taken it in stride. She'd been looking forward to the trip. The Wintertown pumpkin patch was full of her Halloween favorites - apple cider doughnuts, pumpkin picking, pony rides for the children who'd shout with joy.

Sansa had been one of those little girls once. Each year, until she was too old, she’d ridden a beautiful black pony she'd named Belle. She'd pretended she was an autumn queen and Belle was her loyal mare. Her father and her mother had smiled at her. The picture Robb had snapped of her patting Belle’s mane was tacked to her vanity mirror in her bedroom. Her mother and father had even indulged her in the gift shop, buying her a crown of fabric autumn leaves for her hair.

That was the Halloween Sansa loved - the changing of the seasons, the beauty of the leaves, the crisp fall air, the joy people took in being cozy and warm as the cold crept into town. Wintertown pumpkin patch meant all of those things to Sansa.

Wintertown pumpkin patch had changed with the times, however. The business needed to bring in more revenue, and now it was home to the "most terrifying" haunted house in the state, Fright Fest. Sansa had read the reviews of Fright Fest, hoping to see something like "it's got a few ghosts, but it's safe enough for the kids.”

Instead, patrons described it as "scarring" and "a bad idea for anyone under sixteen." More than one visitor gave the haunted house zero stars. Those reviews claimed that Fright Fest went too far, and "swept you up in the plot of a horror movie that you can't escape."

Joffrey, naturally, had been thrilled.

Now, as they pulled into the Wintertown parking lot, Joffrey was trying Sansa’s last nerve.

He argued with the parking attendant about being forced to park his Lexus in the mud. The apple orchard was in the middle of a field, and all of the spots were in the mud. Sansa fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She gazed up at the orchard’s trees and reveled in the movement of the leaves on the wind.

Joffrey grabbed her wrist, harder than he needed to. She stifled a whimper.

“Quit embarrassing me. Just....stop mooning over trees and let's get this over with.”

Get this over with . Sansa felt a flash of hope. She loved this apple orchard. She’d loved it since she was a child. If she could change Joffrey’s mind about what he wanted to do today...

"You're right about your father’s car, Joffrey," she said, giving him a bright smile. You shouldn’t have to endure getting mud all over the tires.”

She took a deep breath and pulled out another one of the strategies she used to appease him. “The staff here are rude, maybe they don’t deserve our business.” She winced inwardly as she said it. Her parents had brought her up to believe that everyone deserved to be approached with dignity and respect - especially people who weren’t in a position to object to bad treatment.

Joffrey's expression darkened, and Sansa knew she'd been too bold.

“This is my car, not my father's car.  He's practically given it to me, Joffrey snapped. “Besides we can't leave now, Sansa.” A sharp, predatory smile sprung to his lips, "We haven't been to the Fright Fest. And I know how much you've been looking forward to it.”

Sansa trembled. She hated haunted houses. She’d been frightened by them ever since she and her siblings had been children. Robb and Arya and Bran had tricked her into believing a ghost lived in the basement of the Winterfell mansion. They’d apologized, and Sansa had long since forgiven them, but the damage had been done.

Sansa did her best to calm the pounding of her heart as she and Joffrey paid their entry fee. Joffrey hustled her past the hayrides and pumpkin picking patch to the "main attraction" of the Fright Fest house. Sansa shrank back as the gloomy building loomed over her. The speakers blasted awful sounds - keening and wailing of lost souls. Worst of all, the speakers sometimes burst with a shrieking that stopped Sansa in her tracks.

That was it, the exact scream Sansa’s mother had made in Sansa's dream.

“Come on, stop stalling, let's go.” Joffrey practically shoved little kids out of the way to get to the entrance. The building was encrusted with gruesome rubber masks.  Snarling gargoyles covered the facade. Bloody handprints stained the ground, as if the victims had been crawling away after being slashed to pieces--

“Miss, are you all right?”

Sansa blinked, and slowly took in the young man staffing the door. She'd expected him to be dressed in full monster regalia.

Instead he wore farmer's overalls, and a worn blue shirt. He carried a plastic pumpkin full of candy, and his nametag read "Jon."

“Great, you got us stopped by the kiddie chaperone,” Joffrey snarled. He glared at Jon as he pushed Sansa towards the dark, cavernous entrance. “She's fine.”

Jon's eyes flashed. He put his hand on Joffrey's chest. Jon didn’t seem to push him, but Joffrey stopped dead in his tracks as if Jon's arm was made of granite.

“She's hyperventilating.” Jon was speaking to Joffrey, but Jon’s gaze was all for her.

Sansa flushed. “I'm - I'm fine, really l, he's right, I'm too scared for my own good, I'll, I won't cause trouble I promise--”

Jon was right, it was hard for her to breathe, and she trailed off.

Joffrey couldn't muscle his way past Jon. He stepped up the insults instead. “She's twenty two, not six.”

“We had someone faint in here earlier today,” Jon said firmly. “Big strong lad, built like a tank, passed out cold on the floor.”

Some of the cunning slipped back into Joffrey's voice. “Well too bad for that guy, sounds like a loser…”

Jon pulled the two of them aside, allowing other customers to enter. Sansa glanced over to her left and saw Jon's coworker, a slender man with the name Satin on his tag, taking tickets.

“Look mate, this place is designed to trigger the fight/flight/freeze reflex,” Jon said to Joffrey.

The gods had blessed Joffrey with an overabundance of wealth, but intelligence was another matter. "What?"

Jon sighed. “A ghost pops out, you punch someone, you run, or your feet get stuck to the floor.”

Joffrey grinned and tightened his grip on Sansa’s arm. “Oh she'll try to run, I'm sure, but I'll drag her through it. Doesn't she need to learn to face her fears?”

Joffrey might as well have said she's worthless, a child, she disgusts me, and I’ll scare her so badly she'll be ashamed to ever complain about this sort of thing again.

Jon looked Sansa up and down. Usually when guys gave her the once over her skin crawled, but the kindness in his eyes helped her relax.

Jon shook his head. "She doesn't need to face anything, not unless she wants to."

Sansa stood up straighter.

The corner of Jon's mouth quirked. “Besides, she's not going to run. She's a fighter."

“You've got to be kidding me,” Joffrey said.

Jon shrugged. “Had a martial arts instructor come through yesterday. Black belt. Teaches over at Citadel University. Helped me start out in judo."

Sansa gasped. "Brienne?" Brienne was an old friend of the family. Sansa’s father had invited Brienne over for dinner often. Sansa admired how steely Brienne’s demeanor could be, how well she carried herself. I’m nothing like her , Sansa thought.

Jon nodded. “That's her. Clocked Pyp right in the face. She came through during my break. Satin's new at this, he let her in. I never would have. Can’t have our staff getting hurt."

Joffrey scoffed. “You're telling me Sansa Stark, Ned Stark’s sweet eldest daughter, who cries when kittens get hurt on TV, is a fighter?"

“That's exactly what I'm telling you,” Jon said evenly.

He turned back to Sansa. “It's in the eyes,” he said softly. “That look. It's unmistakable.” Jon was speaking directly to her now. Everything else faded away as she got lost in his gaze.

“She's going to fight her way through this,” he murmured. Sansa wasn’t sure they were still talking about the haunted house. “She's going to break loose, the next time she's scared.”

Jon turned back to Joffrey.  “And if you're not careful, the person she punches could be you.” Sansa could have sworn Jon was growling.

When Joffrey spoke again he sounded shaken. "Whatever, just let us in.”

Jon stepped between Joffrey and Sansa. Sansa took a full, deep breath for the first time since she’d entered the park. "Go on, mate, feel free. But she isn't going with you."

“I'm going to find your manager and get you fired,” Joffrey sneered.

Jon smiled and pointed. “Go on ahead. He's over there, by the gift shop. Sandor Clegane. You might even know him.”

The color drained from Joffrey's face. Sandor Clegane had worked security for the  Baratheon family, until he stopped Joffrey from tormenting Tommen's cat. No one talked about it openly, but the small town had been buzzing with the news for weeks. Sandor stood by the door with his arms crossed. He wore a suit of armour that was far too well fitting to be a cheap costume.

“This is ridiculous,” Joffrey muttered. “I'm leaving.” He glared at Sansa. “Find your own way home with your new knight here.” He stormed off.

Sansa recovered shortly after. “I’m...not sure how to thank you,” she said softly to Jon unsteadily. “Thanks for fibbing for me, I really am too scared for my own good. I would have bolted or frozen or…."

The corner of Jon’s mouth twitched. “My gut tends to be right about these things. But now it’s up to you whether you go in or not.”

A portly man with glasses and the nametag "Sam" tapped Jon on the shoulder. "Shift's up Jon." Jon nodded absently at him.

With Joffrey gone, Sansa was at a loss. “Well, thank you again, for your help, I'll just…" She trailed off. She had enough money to get an Uber home - after a year of dating Joffrey she always brought enough money to get home on in case he caused a scene. Best to start calling for a car.

As she fumbled for her phone, her stomach growled.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, I don't mean to impose any more than I have already--”

“Oh no,” Sansa broke in. "You saved me there. I'm very grateful, Jon.” She smiled at him, and this time the smile came naturally.

Jon blushed. “Well, at any rate, would you like to get an apple cider doughnut? My parents used to bring me here as a kid--”

“So did mine.” Sansa could practically taste one now.

“And their doughnuts are the best,” Jon finished.

Jon walked her to the restaurant. They split three doughnuts between the two of them. Sansa licked the sugar off her fingers before she could remember to be ladylike. Jon laughed with her, not at her, and Wintertown pumpkin patch settled back in her mind as a place of comfort and refuge. Joffrey drifted further from her thoughts. Jon helped her pick out a pumpkin in the gift shop.

Jon walked her to her Uber. Before she could overthink things, she asked for his number. Jon flushed and mumbled through it.

**

Once Sansa arrived home, her Siberian husky Lady bounded up to her. Sansa laughed and showed her the brown paper sack with the pumpkin she and Jon had picked out.

After she’d lifted her small, round, perfectly orange pumpkin onto the kitchen table, she noticed another package at the bottom of the bag.

She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands. "Deluxe Pumpkin Carving Kit" was written in gaudy letters, and the plastic packaging was decorated with smiling cats and happy witches. An assortment of carving tools were inside. The kind that could slice through pumpkins, and leave children unscathed.

There was a handwritten note as well.

Dear Sansa,

For the next Halloween scuffle you're in. Or for carving pumpkins. I hope you feel comfortable coming back to Wintertown next season. I'll be manning the restaurant door in case you want to sample some more apple doughnuts. Thanks for making my day.

Have a great Halloween,

Jon

Sansa smiled. She got to work on her pumpkin, carving out a happy witch with a curly hat. She snapped a picture of her handiwork and texted it to Jon.

Jon texted back a pumpkin carved like a smiling cat. There's a big white Siberian husky in the photo with him, curled up on his couch.

Well now I have to send him a picture of Lady, she thought, if only to be polite.

***

Next year on Halloween, Jon made apple cider for the both of them. He didn’t use Wintertown pumpkin patch’s recipe, not exactly, since it was a secret. Sansa sighed in bliss when she took her first sip. She told Jon it was better than the cider at the pumpkin patch. When Jon ducked his head and tried to protest, Sansa kissed the corner of his mouth, and soon they forgot the cider entirely.

[nakey-cats-take-bathsss]

Tag Game Get to Know Me

Tagged by: @changingthefairy-tale aka one of the loveliest people I know

Rules: Tag 10 people you want to know better

1. Relationship Status: Complicated. I’m in a public health crisis induced long distance relationship which has been...terrible. But for official purposes I have a boyfriend.

2. Favorite Color: yellow aka the happiest color and also baby pink

3. Three Favorite Foods: Sushi, avocado toast, oven baked Mac and cheese

4. Song stuck in my head: Blu by Jon Bellion I’ve been on a huge kick on his stuff lately and I’m totally obsessed.

5. Last Song I listened to: Truth Hurts by LIZZO it was my finish line song for my run today, absolutely immaculate vibes.

6. Last thing I googled: “Mormon mom Rainbow Sprinkle Cookie Recipe” I spent the afternoon making cookies to mail to my baby brother at college haha I’m obsessed with Mormon mom blogs Bc they always have the best recipes. They are very liberal with the butter and that is the way I like my cookies best.

7. Time : 11:53 aka past my bedtime I am an old person in a young body

8. Dream Trip: hmm this is tough Bc it’s a toss up between places I want to visit and love or somewhere new. But I have three because I don’t know how I would decide. I would love to go to Paris with my mamá and see all the sights with her. My family was also supposed to go on a safari in South Africa this summer and it got cancelled for obvious reasons but that’s a place I want to visit so badly. And lastly, my family is originally from Colombia, I’ve only been a handful of times when I was a baby but I would love to go and see where my Abuela was born and eat real authentic food.

9. Anything I really want: So many things...this is such a tough question. I want to write an unapologetically sappy book full of beautiful scenery and a compelling Latina main charater, to write a realistic love story that Latina girls have to hold close to their hearts. I want to be a lawyer. I want lots and lots and lots of kids, adopted and biological. Just a simple life full of love, perhaps a farm close to my parents and siblings, a few cows, a chicken, maybe a goat, raise my kids close to family in a place where they can dig their bare feet in the dirt and roll in the grass.

Tagging (just tagging my pals, no pressure of course. I love you all!): @elora-lane @burninghoneyatdusk @mobi-on-a-mission @queenemori @queen-of-the-wallflowers15 @infp-with-all-the-feelings @bellamyblakru @animmortalist @angstybleuskies @dayo488

[wrestlingisfake]

AEW Fake Rankings, 12/12/2020

Men’s singles division - babyfaces

Jon Moxley

Cody Rhodes

Darby Allin (AEW TNT champion)

Orange Cassidy

Hangman Page

Lance Archer

PAC

Dustin Rhodes

Scorpio Sky

Matt Sydal

Men’s singles division - heels

Kenny Omega (AEW men’s world champion, AAA mega champion)

MJF

Brian Cage (FTW champion)

Ricky Starks

Eddie Kingston

Sammy Guevara

Powerhouse Hobbs

Matt Hardy

Shawn Spears

Wardlow

Unranked: Brandon Cutler, Colt Cabana, Michael Nakazawa, Peter Avalon

One of the things I like about AEW is that they’ve got so many guys in the mix and I usually know off the top of my head what any of them is up to.  Granted, some of these guys aren’t doing very much, but I at least have a sense of their character and storyline while they’re on the back burner.  I used to like that about WWE, years ago.  But somewhere around 2000 they lost the ability to focus on more than a handful of characters at any given time, which is a big problem when you have a hundred performers on your roster.

As a result, it feels more organic to me when guys like Eddie Kingston and Team Taz jump out of the undercard into the AEW title picture.  On Raw, these guys would be random nobodies in R-Truth skits until Vince McMahon suddenly decided to present them as killer threats to Drew McIntyre, and then they’d lose the title match and be nobodies again.  In AEW, there’s a better flow between “beating jobbers on Dark” and “beating name guys on Dynamite” and “punking out a champion to disrupt the rankings” and “recovering from a big loss by beating midcarders.”  That’s something I haven’t seen in US wrestling for so long, I forgot how much I missed it.

PROTIP FOR TONY KHAN: Try doing that with the women sometime, kthx

Men’s tag team division - babyfaces

The Young Bucks - Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson (AEW tag team champions)

Christopher Daniels & Frankie Kazarian

Best Friends - Chuck Taylor & Trent Beretta

Lucha Bros. - Penta El 0M & Rey Fenix

Jurassic Express - Luchasaurus & Jungle Boy & Marko Stunt

Private Party - Marq Quen & Isiah Kassidy

Joey Janela & Sonny Kiss

The Gunn Club - Billy Gunn & Austin Gunn & Colten Gunn

The Varsity Blondes - Brian Pillman Jr. & Griff Garrison

Top Flight - Darius Martin & Daunte Martin

Men‘s tag team division - heels

FTR - Dax Harwood & Cash Wheeler

Chris Jericho & Jake Hager

Miro & Kip Sabian

The Butcher & The Blade

Evil Uno & Stu Grayson

John Silver & Alex Reynolds

The Hybrid2 - Jack Evans & Angelico

The Acclaimed - Anthony Bowen & Max Caster

Chaos Project - Luther & Serpentico

Alan Angels & Preston Vance

This has to be the deepest tag team division I’ve ever seen in pro wrestling.  I suppose maybe some group in Mexico might have more teams.  But 20 active teams is practically unheard of for a major-league US promotion.  Even New Japan could only find 10 teams for World Tag League, and half of them were one-off combinations.

One caveat is that the “Jericho and Hager focus on tag wrestling” thing may or may not be a long-term direction.  And Colten, Pillman, Garrison, and Serpentico are not (to my knowledge) under contract.  But that’s balanced out a bit by the tandems that haven’t competed in the last 30 days (Dustin Rhodes & QT Marshall, Santana & Ortiz), and the potential for other alliances to be full-time dedicated tag teams (MJF & Wardlow, Team Taz).

The advantage of having this many teams is that you get booking in the tag division like you’d see in the singles divisions of most promotions.  You can actually have four or five teams on hot streaks, because there are plenty of lesser teams to put them over, so they don’t have to go 50-50 with each other.  You can actually have a group of teams acting as a midcard, that lose to the top guys but can beat anybody else.  And there are maybe six teams here that I’d call jobber teams, but they still win sometimes because they beat each other, or the freelancers on AEW Dark.  It’s a good ecosystem.

Women’s singles division - babyfaces

Hikaru Shida (AEW women’s world champion)

Big Swole

Serena Deeb (NWA women’s world champion)

Thunder Rosa

Leva Bates

Shanna

Leyla Hirsch

Red Velvet

KiLynn King

Women’s singles division - heels

Nyla Rose

Britt Baker

Abadon

Anna Jay

Penelope Ford

Diamante

Ivelisse

The AEW women’s division suffered a lot this spring from injuries and travel restrictions, but I’d say they’ve mostly recovered from those setbacks.  Most of the women listed above weren’t even in the company before March.  Collaborating with the NWA (Thunder Rosa) and pushing freelancers (Diamante, Ivelisse, Hirsch, Velvet, and King) has yielded a deeper roster than they had in 2019.

That being said, TV time is still an egregious problem for this division.  AEW is clearly wary about chasing viewers off to NXT if they run too many women’s segments on Dynamite.  If feels like they’re waiting for something that’ll make it the right time to actually push the division.  But the perfect moment will never come, so they might as well go with the hand they have.

It looks like the brewing Brandi Rhodes vs. Jade Cargill feud is going to expand to include (at least) Nyla, Swole, Deeb, Velvet, Diamante, and Ivelisse.  So if we see various matchups among those women for a few weeks (alongside Shida vs. Abadon and Baker vs. Rosa), then great!  If it just means one multi-woman tag on Dynamite, then it doesn’t really address the problem.

No matches in the last 30 days: Emi Sukara, Jade Cargill, Mel, Santana, Ortiz, QT Marshall, Riho, Tay Conti, The Bunny, Yuka Sakazawi

At some point CIMA and T-Hawk were quietly removed from the roster on AEW’s website.  With Shanna and PAC back in Jacksonville, that only leaves Sukara, Riho, and Sakazawi as the contracted performers out of action because of the pandemic.

Part-timers: Awesome Kong, Dallas Page, Dasha, Rebel, Sting

Kong has been out for nearly a year with no explanation besides a kayfabe injury.  My understanding was that she would be taking time off to film GLOW, but then the show was canceled, so I don’t know if she’s healing from real injuries or taking time off or what.  DDP is 64 and the last time I saw him on AEW programming he was mentoring QT Marshall from inside his house, so I’m pretty sure he won’t be back until after the pandemic.  Dasha and Rebel aren’t listed by AEW as wrestlers but they’ve each had matches this year.

Interestingly, Sting is listed on the official roster as a competitor with a 0-0 record in the promotion.  That seems like the surest sign yet that AEW plans to book him in a match.  He’s 61, but I suppose DDP wrestled this year at 63 years old.  He was forced into retirement with spinal stenosis, but I suppose Edge came back from that after a lot of rest and for a lot of money.

Inactive

Brodie Lee (ankle - undisclosed injury)

Brandi Rhodes (arm - storyline injury)

Kris Statlander (left knee - ACL tear)

I’m kinda surprised there aren’t more people on the shelf than this.  (And technically Brandi isn’t really hurt and probably won’t be selling it much longer.)  It feels like AEW has had a lot of injury problems this year, but I suppose they’ve managed to avoid a lot of major surgeries.

[krikriscomiccorner]

Do you ever just...

Wish DC branched out a little more with their heroes and stories? Diversified a bit?  There was a thread going around poking fun at the fact Batman has a plethora of books to choose from. Batman, Batman: The Adventures Continue, Batman and the Outsiders, The Batman’s Grave, Detective Comics... Am I missing any? Not to mention, Batman has major appearances in things like Justice League. FURTHERMORE, while The Batman’s Grave ends in December 2020, a NEW Batman mini (Batman and Catwoman, written by Tom King) will begin as soon as that series ends.  Now let’s go one step further still: Batman and Detective Comics are each published twice monthly. If you want to read those series and know what’s going on, that’s $16/month (depending on your LCS). If they were once monthly, like most other series, $16 becomes $8. Sure you can keep that $8, but you could also use it to purchase two other books. In the coming months, many books are getting canned (Teen Titans, Batgirl, Shazam -to name a few), but Batman will still have plenty of titles (except Batman and the Outsiders). But if people had more money to spend on other titles, might they do so? All I’m saying is, if you’re a kid with an allowance or an adult on a budget, that $8 can mean a lot in terms of which comics you are picking up.   As we all know, Batman is one of DC’s huge money makers. Heck, it’s well known (thanks to Tom King) that Batman could have a less than great writer and people will still buy and read that title. Which is wicked unfortunate. It goes without saying that the Batfam is huge: Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Damian, Duke, the list goes on, but only 2 folks on that list have their own titles. Nightwing and Red Hood are each once monthly, and the Nightwing run had a wicked bad time the last couple of years (see ya, Ric). Tim is around plenty in Young Justice (ending in 2 issues), and he’s now back to Robin in the Batman titles, but that’s it. Damian was Robin and the leader of the Teen Titans (also ending in 2 issues), while he is arguably the central figure in Teen Titans, he shares that stage with several others. The next series we see him in is Batman Beyond, and that’s wonky where DC continuity is concerned. Everyone else on that list (and anyone I forgot) is just there for support, sometimes it feels they are just there when a writer remembers they exist. Oof.  Sorry for the rant, all I’m saying is DC has so much potential here, beyond Batman (just don’t kill off the Batman Beyond title, thanks). Where they are cancelling so many series and Batman, Detective Comics, The Flash, and Justice League are all going down to once monthly come 2021, DC has room to write some new BANGERS. I’ll likely never stop reading Batman, but hear me out...  A series with CONNER Kent, who doesn’t love this funky lil mad lad from the 90s? And it’s not like he wouldn’t come with a fun supporting cast. Heck, if you’re reading Action Comics right now he is the one running around with Clark, Jon, Kara, and Brainiac 5! If the other members of the Super Fam aren’t to your liking, Conner is a breath of fresh air. And who doesn’t love a little edge? Damain. Okay, I get that he is from the Batfam, but he’s gone off the rails and DC has some room to give us a wild story all about what he decides to do next! Instead of there being talk of some sweet solo Damian run.... All we know is that he will be showing up again sometime in or around Detective Comics 1028. smh DC. Or even a story that showed us how he ended up back with the League in Batman Beyond. Two potential titles right there!  LADIES. DC HAS SO MANY GOOD WOMEN. Yes, we have Wonder Woman, Batgirl (ending soon), Amethyst (is that still running?), and probably something else I’m forgetting... But give us a story all about some of the other women of DC. Starfire has a rad as hell origin, and her personality would make for a great story. Maybe they could give her some more clothes, though. If they wanted to keep it Batman related, they could do a solo series with Cass. Just a thought. I get that these are more niche characters, but they’re also something different from what/who DC has been using.  Okay, anyway, that concludes my rant. I’m going to stop myself because this is already a wall of text and I didn’t even use pictures.  

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

More proof in the pudding for 15x20 breaking the fourth wall theory

I kind of already discussed this theory on this post here but in going over the last two seasons of GoT to add to this dark!Dany meta I’ve got going, I noticed something that I think is worth taking a look at.

GoT 8x06:

We all remember what happens after this weighted ominous walk of Jon’s.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XhfGY5pIPg&t=254s

“When I was a girl, my brother told me it was made from a thousand swords of Aegon’s fallen enemies. What do a thousand swords look like in the mind of a little girl who can’t count twenty? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb. So many fallen enemies, you could only see the soles of Aegon’s feet.” “This is our reason. It has been from the beginning since you were a little boy with a bastard’s name and I was a little girl who couldn’t count to twenty.” “You are my queen, now and always.” -- this is dialogue meant to call back to the Dany the audience has known since season 1 - this was done in an effort to keep her character sympathetic to the end but it’s problematic since she just torched an entire city that held a million innocent people, and it completely negates the true moral of her story - her brother is mentioned who we haven’t seen since season 1, who by all means is not a good influence or a hero in this story but in this last season, she has started to embrace the Targaryen side of things (that we’ve seen reflected in her wardrobe, I see you Michele Clapton, you brilliant woman, you) - the dialogue even invokes season 1 Jon in that one line, though obviously the focus is not on Jon but Dany herself - Jon who had just been acting as the audience mouthpiece in the jail scene with Tyrion (acting as the writers’ mouthpiece - again breaking the 4th wall), saying “You are my queen, now and always”, something the split audience (the ones who felt betrayed by Dany’s dark turn and still stan her to this day) keep saying - yes “now and always” was a common saying in the North, but this wording is purposeful as is this piece of dialogue for essentially what is Dany’s death scene, the most controversial death to come out of this episode, the end of this series I would even argue

15x20:

We all remember Dean’s monologue that took close to 10 mins to happen as he was “fading pretty quick”, so much so that Sam couldn’t call for help

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“There’s a few things that I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. Do you know that? I’ve always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart, you never took any of Dad’s crap. I never knew how you did that. And you’re stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you that night that, uh, that I came for you when you were at school? You know when Dad hadn’t come back from his hunting trip? The woman in white, that’s right. I must’ve stood outside your dorm for hours because I didn’t know what you would say. I thought you’d tell me to get lost or get dead and I didn’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you. ‘Cause I was so scared. I was scared. ‘Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me.” “I can’t do this alone.” “Yes, you can.” “Well, I don’t want to.” “I love you so much. My baby brother.” -- notice anything...familiar? -- this is dialogue meant to call back to season 1, to the original audience that started out with the brothers in season 1, that may not have stuck with the show for all 15 seasons but maybe ducked back in for the finale just to see how the show chose to end the boys’ stories - John is mentioned who is not a good influence nor a hero in the story which the show has gone out of their way to show time and time again, despite 14x13 - this is the result of one of their dad’s old unfinished hunts from season 1 including the “villain” - Dean mentions events of the first episode when John hasn’t come back from an old hunt, when he goes to get Sam from school, the woman in white being their very first MOTW of the show, even the dialogue from that first episode where the lines are reversed and Dean tells Sam he doesn’t want to do it alone - the dialogue is meant to invoke nostalgia of that pilot and that time, that version of the boys’ stories, where it was Winchester only - Dean’s death (outside of Cas’) is one of the most controversial deaths to happen this episode, even this series (though it has a lot of problematic deaths, i.e. Charlie but I mean in the main character arena) - this was done to keep season 1, specifically the pilot, in the viewers’ minds and as a callback to the beginning of the show, the dialogue was very purposeful, it’s also no coincidence that Sam is the focus here and once Dean is finished telling him goodbye essentially, he looks away behind the camera and talks about how he didn’t think today was going to be the day but it is (which adds to the pudding even more, because this is later season Dean talking who did not want to die on a hunt and wanted something different for himself, season 1 Dean always knew he would die young on a hunt) 

And let us not forget this:

Andrew Dabb: “If you thought Game of Thrones was bad, just wait” (x) - this is said in a joking manner but where is it said? Comic Con 2019, the same Comic Con D&D canceled their appearances at & left the cast who did appear to deal with the fallout. This isn’t a man flipping off people and being like “Ha! Crybabies, we’re doing what we want to do and that’s that! Ha!” He said it in a joking manner when he talked about how only 30% of people would be pleased after seeing the finale and Jared joined the conversation. This is the same man who pushed hard along with Bobo Berens for a spinoff that featured women and women of color as well as having proper queer representation but got shut down by the network in the end. The same guy who worked to separate Dean and Sam from their toxic co-dependency and bolstered the found family theme in the narrative, while also taking the baton that Carver started with of Dean and Sam thinking of what they would actually want for their endings, and running with it, developing that even further. 

What did GoT have? 2 final seasons as it were. To be fair, season 7 cannot be considered an alternate ending, it had way too many open endings but here (x) it’s stated that D&D did want to end GoT with season 7 initially before being convinced by the network to go to 8. They wanted to move onto other projects (that never happened because they’re egotistical greedy idiots, but I digress)  and their rush to end the series showed. HBO wanted 10 seasons but they didn’t want to move forward without D&D. GRRM thought at least 13 seasons would be appropriate. 

What did SPN have? 2 finales. 15x19 is not only the finale that closes up the mytharc but also the found family finale. I’m not sure if they knew this ahead of time or found out last second (Misha’s line of “Cas’ ending was supposed to be different but I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about that” still haunts me), but ultimately, that’s how it worked out. 15x19 was for the later season fans, the found family, the mythology fans (meaning Heaven, Hell, angels, nephilim, Lucifer, Jack, etc). That’s why we get the huge montage of characters at the end of the episode, the initials on the table, Dean demanding Cas be brought back in the beginning of the episode and Lucifer’s phone call, Dean and Sam wanting Jack to come back to the bunker but he can’t, Dean and Sam driving off in Baby together with “Running On Empty” playing. 15x20 was the series finale for early season fans, Kripke fans, Winchester-only fans. That’s why there’s no big montage in the beginning of the SERIES FINALE that they had done every season premiere, every season finale, and every mid-season premiere. They didn’t want the found family (yes, including Cas and Jack) in the viewers’ minds. But they couldn’t remove those two characters from the narrative completely (they were too integral later on in the series plus later season fans are watching this too) so they get mentions. This is why the Carry On My Wayward Son twice, Sam married to Blurry Wife and having Dean Jr., the Winchester-only mantle, the MOTW that calls back to one of their big bads (vampires) in season 1 (outside of YED & any demonic forces), why the brothers-only ending. This is why Dean is all ‘Cas who?’, why Eileen disappeared, and why Jack is off shooting a new spot for Architectural Digest. They only wanted Sam and Dean on your minds in 15x20 with the extension of John, Mary, Rufus, Bobby, and Baby with a touch of the Roadhouse in the background. This is also why no pictures of Blurry Wife on the Winchester-only mantle either. This is why Sam’s son was named Dean. This is why after putting on the Party City wig, Sam goes to sit in Baby and cries, thinking of Dean.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again: 15x20.👏 Was.👏 A.👏 Vehicle. It’s no coincidence that W*lker was more heavily promoted during 15x20 than any other time before. That what happens in 15x20 for Sam and Dean (and that Sam is once again the focus after having the story split between the brothers for years before) parallels somewhat to what happens in Jared’s new show and his character. This is the same network that uses its shows to backdoor pilots of spinoffs and other shows time and time again (think Green Arrow and The Canaries, Legacies, etc). It’s also no coincidence that W*lker is in the same time slot as SPN had been in, that they intersperse the use of #SPNFamily and #W*lkerFamily on Twitter, that the C*W SPN twitter account is used to steer followers to their other content, that the C*W YouTube account for SPN no longer has any clips or promos available for that show, almost as if it doesn’t exist. You know why? Simple, they don’t want SPN on your minds anymore. They want you watching W*lker and any other new content they are cooking up and throwing at you. Don’t be surprised if they start heavily promoting another new show (besides their returning ones) during W*lker episodes now. That’s just the name of the game, how it works. They already pushed the audience they wanted from 15x20 to W*lker and now SPN is an officially closed chapter for them. Dabb and the actors had other projects to move onto. In their minds, it’s done...until they try to reboot it in some way in a couple of years. And it will not only feature a younger generation of actors but will have what they consider to be appropriate queer representation as well as POC representation in the new cast. It may be the same Winchester story though changed or a whole new story in that universe. You laugh but watch. It’ll happen. This network is not known for its quality or originality, only for their brand. There’s a reason they keep on showrunners to head up new content if their original source of content works and they become “favorites” (i.e Julie Plec).

Ultimately, GoT was referenced many times on SPN, in dialogue between characters whether it applied or not. GoT was mentioned by the actors when discussing watching it, at cons and in interviews. SPN (and Dabb) was very well aware of GoT and what happened with that show. Not only because it was all over the media everywhere, being a pop culture phenomenon that had HUGE backlash, but also because they were there at the Comic Con where the backlash was felt strongest. To the point where even other people mentioned it in their panels (i.e. Seth Rogen). I’m obviously not in Dabb’s head nor was I on set when they filmed the finale or in the writers’ room with J2 and the writers when they pitched the ending so I don’t know. But isn’t it odd that 8x06 of GoT features a scene that has been confirmed by Kit Harington as breaking the 4th wall to speak to/get the viewers’ attention, make them think, and SPN is a show that has featured that same concept (usually in a comedic fashion) time and time again? And in 15x20 they have Robert Singer make an appearance? And the infamous bridge crew shot, J2 talking to you while still in costume as Sam and Dean from that same shot, and the voiceover “And cut” before it cuts to black? 

I don’t think we’ll ever really get answers. I think any we get will always be complimentary to the network, or “we can’t talk about it”, or “it was always planned that way”. I’m not saying those people are being less than truthful (and seriously, I don’t blame any of them, it’s PR and they need to protect their careers, feed their families, if you speak out on anything in this universe, something really serious or the tiniest thing, you risk ever getting hired again, you will be blacklisted, it’s not right and it’s certainly not fair, but this is the way this particular business works) but something is not adding up (a lot of somethings actually). I think there was definitely a different ending for Cas, possibly even Jack (meaning he might have made at least one appearance). I do think there may have been a different resolution to Destiel and Saileen (unless they truly planned to keep it ambiguous all along). I don’t know if Dean would have had a different ending, I think he might have at one point as suggested by the narrative during Carver’s and Dabb’s eras, but I’m not sure what their “true ending” was going to be regarding him or Sam. To have Sam be the one that died would have been redundant from Swan Song (5x22) so I doubt they would have gone in that direction. I hate to think it but I don’t think we’ll ever really know. As far as death scenes go, Dean’s death in 9x23 was way more meaningful and impactful for me when he tells Sam that he’s proud of them, than what we got in 15x20. No offense to the guys’ acting or to the boys themselves, but the 9x23 scene was more appropriate imho. And that also leads me to believe that Dean’s manner of death may not have been what they planned all along. But until we get answers (which again I don’t think we will), we’ll never truly know for sure.

As for me, this is just more proof in the pudding. I’m not saying Dabb & Co purposely sabotaged 15x20 at all but I wouldn’t be surprised if they kept the reaction to GoT’s finale in mind at a couple of key points while getting these last two episodes shot. 15x19 was our finale, sad to say. 15x20 was the network’s finale, meant to induce nostalgia and callbacks, bringing the boys’ original fans over to Texas to watch a certain ranger do roundhouse kicks. Sad but true.