#I just meant to announce it and I made this monster post

[genericpuff]

Public service reminder: I love y'all for your support in what I do here, but (a very gentle but) I want to make it clear that this isn't the way-

Names are censored for obv privacy reasons and I don't want to put any of my own readers on blast because I trust comments like these are made with good intention. I appreciate y'all for loving what I do here and putting it out there for others to read along, but I don't do it for this. As much as Rekindled is indeed a parody redraw of LO that's trying to "fix" a lot of the original comic's issues, at the end of the day it's still just a Tumblr project that I'm doing here for fun and I don't want to see it used as ammunition in the comments sections dedicated specifically to LO (for clarification, this was in the @webtoonofficial announcement post for LO winning its third Eisner).

Whether or not it's "better" than LO is subjective and irrelevant. I obviously can't pretend like I didn't have my own motivations to "fix" what I felt was broken, but the act of "fixing" was for those of us who saw it as broken, not for those who love LO as is.

I also can't reasonably ask anyone to keep their opinions about Rekindled to themselves, it's a piece of work that is publicly available and therefore that will put it under the lens of public opinion, but from me to you, this ain't the way. I host it on Tumblr and DH precisely to keep it out of the main view of the fans/stans, because this work isn't for them, it's for all of you who share my disappointment in the original series. I want to be able to run this space free of any extreme fandom discourse - this is also why you won't see me using general LO tags on Tumblr/IG - but the only way that can happen is if we all play nice and don't let the heat of the discourse get to us. Rest assured, I will always stand by my work and what I do here because I love it and have found my lost joy in what LO used to mean to me through it as well as a community of amazing writers and creators... but prevention is better than the cure and I don't want any of that heat getting thrown back my way through weaponizing of my work with or without my knowing in the first place.

Am I pissed about the comic's third win? Absolutely. And as much as I feel it isn't worth anyone's time or energy to get into bickering matches with the stans in these comment sections, those opinions regarding the comic pre-exist my participation in this fandom and would have, one way or another, hit that boiling point regardless (and it's been wild to watch that comment section go down, I can't lie lmao) But this is not the way. Rekindled is - to me, and hopefully to you, too - a reclaiming of the love and passion people like myself used to have for LO, and a celebration of Greek myth and transformative fiction as a genre, above everything else it stands for or could be interpreted as. It's not a weapon meant to be used in discourse. Let's please do our best to be mindful of that so we can keep having fun in this special little space we've carved for ourselves and not make ourselves into the monsters we're often made out to be just for critically discussing and transforming a piece of media that, in spite of all its flaws, brought us together in the way that it did. Let's keep being the best for each other instead of turning ourselves into the worst over others within this massive fandom who we were never going to agree with in the first place.

Thank you all, much love 💖 Do no harm, take no shit ✊️

[cloudcountry]

love me (for a while)

Genre/Tropes: Fluffy!! Fake dating, friends to lovers.

Summary: Deuce asks a favor of you. Date him to get Ace off his back, just for a week. Won't you love him, just for a little while?

Author's Comments: I wanted to write some fake dating stuff for Deuce plus Ace shenanigans, and it turned out to be really long. I also wrote this a week before I officially started playing Twisted Wonderland, and it's my first really long piece. It holds a special place in my heart. This was cross-posted on AO3 and Quotev!!

~~~~~

“Can I ask a favor of you?” he asked, eyes shining in the darkness of your dorm.

“Sure.” you answered, awaiting a request to assist him with some scheme to get Ace out of trouble again.

A pause.

“Can you pretend to date me?” he blurted, the words smashed together like crushed raspberries (which would have been the same shade as his face.)

Silence.

Neither one of you spoke for a moment—Deuce, too anxious about your reaction, and you, too shocked to make sense of his words for a moment.

“What did you do this time?” you straightened up, amusement in your voice.

“I told Ace I wasn’t that inexperienced when he was teasing me about my lack of romantic relationships and he asked what I meant by that and I told him that I was dating you just to rub it in his face and he laughed at me and said there was no way and that he’d ask you about it tomorrow so I want to—”

“I’ll do it.” you patted him on the shoulder, successfully stopping his rambling.

“Really? You don’t have, I’m serious, this is my fault and I—”

“Deuce.”

“Huh?”

“It’s no problem. Really. Besides, I can’t wait to see the look on Ace’s face.” you snickered.

That was Sunday. Today was another day, the day when you put your plan into action and officially became Deuce’s fake partner.

Monday.

Monday is when it was announced.

You and Deuce were sitting at the lunch table with Grim and Ace, the latter staring at the two of you expectantly. You rolled your eyes as Grim paid the three of you no mind, gobbling up his food with no regard for any table manners.

“So. You know what I want.” Ace smirked, pointing his spoon at Deuce across the table, “Are you two dating?”

You almost started laughing but managed to keep a straight face. In a moment of boldness, you took Deuce’s hand on your own and slammed them both on the table. He yelped at your boldness, staring at you with wide eyes as you smirked back at Ace.

“Yeah. What’s it to you?”

The look on his face was priceless—his smug smirk and twinkling eyes slowly turned into a look of shock, his eyes wide and jaw hanging. Before you had time to really relish Ace’s reaction, he was shaking it off with a loud sputter.

“I don’t believe it!” Ace groaned, slamming his forehead on the table, “That’s...I can’t believe you weren’t lying.”

He gripped your hand a little tighter, his face flushed red and lips pressed in a thin line. Ace didn’t seem to notice, his attention fixated on his beloved cherry pie. He sighed, looking like he was about to give up on everything.

“Hand it over!” Grim cackled, holding out his paws.

Ace rolled his eyes and slid his slice of cherry pie in front of the monster. He grumbled something under his breath as Grim dug into it with a triumphant grin.

“What was that about?” you asked, watching Grim gobble up Ace’s favorite food right in front of his face.

“We made a bet.” Ace huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You made a bet about whether Deuce and I were actually dating?”

“Sure did. I thought there was no way Deuce and you would ever end up together so I told Grim I’d give him my cherry pie if you confirmed it tomorrow.”

“That’s a stupid bet you made, Ace.”

“Listen, I thought I had a better understanding of what was happening between my bestest friends in the whole world-”

You laughed, squeezing Deuce’s hand. He hadn’t said a single word since you’d grabbed his hand, and you were worried that the action had broken him. Deciding that you might as well sell the idea of this relationship if you were to pretend this was real for who knows how long, you turned your attention away from your tablemates and to him.

“Are you okay honey?” you asked, placing your free hand over your intertwined fingers.

That was the right thing to say, you noted, as his face flushed an even brighter shade of red. So he liked pet names. You could work with that.

“Yeah. Just...nervous.” he cleared his throat, straightening his back. He tore his eyes away from yours, only for them to dart back to your face. You smiled. He ducked his head, staring at his untouched lunch.

“Bleh. Honeymoon stage.” Ace grumbled, still glaring at the spot where his pie used to be.

“You don’t have to be nervous, I’m not gonna hurt you.” you teased, “Come on, let's eat so we can hang out for a bit longer before classes start.”

“Can I walk you?”

“Of course you can, honey. I’d feel safer with you around.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes trained on your smiling lips for only a second before he ripped his gaze away. You felt your heart skip a beat at the implication, missing the suspicious gaze of Ace as he looked between the two of you.

♠

Tuesday.

Tuesday is when you both forgot your scheme.

In the morning, you walked into school with a mission, and the first thing you saw threw you off. Deuce was waiting for you, standing up straight and staring into nothingness with a slight scowl on his face. You almost laughed at how silly he looked, hands clasped behind his back as various students stared at him.

“Hi, Deuce.” you greeted, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hey.” he murmured, softening immediately under your touch.

The hug lasted for a few seconds, Deuce’s body warmth lulling you into a gentle sense of security. It wasn’t until Deuce dragged his hands down your arms and took your hands in his as he pulled away that you allowed yourself to slip away, too. His head was down, gaze trained on your hands like he didn’t know what to do with them. You watched as his furrowed brow relaxed, his head lifting to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I—I should be walking you to class right now.”

Deuce was once again looking so painfully indifferent, slowly taking his hands out of your grip. You tensed for a second, going to grab them and bring your fingers back to their beautiful, intertwined state—

His arms fell at his sides, and your hands were painfully empty.

You walked to class with him, staring straight at him as he stared straight at the end of whatever hallway you were walking down. You huffed and pursed your lips, eyes drinking in how stiff he looked.

If only you’d held his hand.

He stopped outside your classroom, briefly making eye contact and saying goodbye, his gaze softening for a second when you smiled and thanked him. Deuce opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, but closed it again.

“I shouldn’t hold you too long, but…” you bit your lip—really, why were you acting like a fool? “I’d like to walk back to my dorm with you. If you don’t mind.”

You should have held his hand.

The back of his hand brushed the side of your face, his dark blue eyes swallowing you whole.

“I’d love to walk you back.” he nodded, cheeks flushed pink.

No more words were exchanged as he turned on his heel and walked away, the interaction that lasted a few seconds replaying in your mind like it had more importance than anything else in your day.

A thought interrupted them.

Your hand was so devastatingly cold.

♠

In the afternoon, you met up with Deuce the second class let out. He was waiting for you again, this time out in the hallway you went through every day to head back to Ramshackle.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” he asked, eyeing the nearest window.

Oh.

You followed his gaze, taking in the misty gray clouds and the watery blotches splattering against the window. The glass was completely covered in little water spots that decorated the glass, sliding down and combining with each other at an unreasonably fast rate.

Oh man, it was raining?

“No.” you laughed, beaming at him, “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

Deuce cracked the smallest of smiles at your laugh, but you could tell he was still worried.

“We could try waiting out the storm…” Deuce suggested.

Silence. Neither of you spoke.

“Let's run.” you said, turning to face Deuce with a grin on your face that spelled nothing but mischief.

“And get wet?” Deuce furrowed his brow, “Why would we do that?”

He said that even though he knew he couldn’t say no to you.

“Because it’s fun.” you grabbed his hand, tugging him in the direction of the downpour, “Does Riddle have a rule against wet clothes or something?”

“Do you think I could remember if there was?” Deuce huffed, staring fiercely at where your hands connected.

“No.” you snickered, “And I wouldn’t remember either.”

Deuce didn’t have a second to react before you yanked him along, running into the rain and clearly expecting him to run with you, since your hand was still in his and you were squeezing even tighter and he swears the second a raindrop lands on his face it would evaporate.

It didn’t.

The rain is cool when it hit his skin, and he can hear your shrieks of delight as you let go of his hand and spin, throwing your hands up like you wanted to catch all of the raindrops. Vaguely, he feels his socks getting wet but he can’t even bring himself to hate the feeling when all he can stare at is you.

“Hey! What do you two think you’re doing out there?!”

The shout of someone makes you stop your twirling dance and look, but Deuce’s mind is too foggy with you to understand what's happening.

A flash of red hair appears in his vision as you raise your hand for a high five. He sees the person now, and it's Ace—thank goodness it’s Ace—and he’s high-fiving you and slinging an arm around your shoulders. You laugh and shove him off, and Ace fakes a wound right over his heart.

Deuce realizes two things.

One, you’re not actually dating him, which is frankly the more appalling one of the two.

Two, Ace thinks you’re dating and Deuce isn’t doing anything to convince him further that he’s actually dating someone like you.

“Yo, are you good?” Ace gives him a weird look, and that’s when Deuce realizes that you’re looking at him too and his throat dries up.

He never does know what you’re thinking, does he?

“I was walking them back to their dorm,” Deuce explains as if he needs an explanation even though nobody asked.

Ace looks from you to him, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I bet you were. That’s why I caught them dancing in the rain and you staring at them with your mouth hanging open like a goof.” he laughed, slapping Deuce on the back, “Have fun lovebirds, I’m off to meet up with Jamil and Floyd.”

Deuce couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze and Ace walked off, clearly thinking he’d done Deuce a favor.

“I’m not gonna lie,” you breathed, amusement in your voice, “I forgot we were supposed to be dating.”

He stops and thinks this over because despite his realization a few moments earlier, he’d forgotten too.

♠

Wednesday.

Wednesday is when you dealt with a third wheel.

After Tuesday, you both tried to drill the fact that you were supposed to be dating into your heads. It just seemed so natural to forget, especially when your relationship had always involved some physical contact (mostly courtesy of Ace.) You couldn’t have him getting suspicious, as he was still sour over the loss of his cherry pie—you weren’t as worried about Grim, since he was mostly interested in the food he’d get and not your love life, thankfully.

So Deuce asking you on this date was justified. To keep up with appearances, you two were headed to a cafe after school, however sketchy that cafe may be.

You planned on holding his hand on the way there, working towards getting him comfortable with physical affection.

You planned on watching in amusement as his face turned beet red.

You planned a nice afternoon with Deuce with refreshing drinks and delicious treats.

You did not plan on Ace tagging along.

Despite the redhead following a short distance behind the two of you, humming some tune to seem occupied while he blatantly stared at your intertwined hands. It would be so much harder to make Deuce comfortable now.

You sighed, briefly considering just giving up this farce and telling Ace it was a prank. That would also be funny, but you didn’t want to leave poor Deuce hanging.

Your brain halted for a second, stalling on the territory you never dared to explore. You paused. You looked over at Deuce, whose face was red and hands were sweaty and eyes were trained far ahead in the distance because if he looked at you he’d explode.

Okay, you weren’t an idiot. You thought Deuce was cute and had thought about him in a less than platonic way on multiple occasions (especially the fantasy of making him eggs in the morning after watching horror movies all night and having to comfort him.) Judging by the way he acted around you, he may have felt the same way as you did. You weren’t an idiot. The entire reason you wanted this to keep up wasn’t because of Ace or Grim.

You just wanted to see what Deuce would do by the end of the week.

“Let me get that for you.” Deuce murmured, letting go of your hand.

It was seconds later that you recognized the door to the cafe was open in front of you, Deuce staring at you expectantly.

Ah, so now he was avoiding Ace.

You smiled at him and walked through, waiting for him on the other side. Ace ceased his humming, shooting you a smug grin as Deuce took his place at your side again.

“Well, I hope you two didn’t think you were going to feed each other food or share a drink or something cheesy, because I think I’d throw up.”

Damn it.

♠

The cafe was pleasant enough.

Except for when Ace threw a straw at Deuce’s head.

Except for when Deuce kicked Ace under the table, and Ace kicked you instead of Deuce.

Except for when Deuce almost started yelling at Ace because how dare he do something so childish in public and to you no less—

Except for when one of the eel twins started laughing at the commotion you three were causing, his grin revealing his sharp teeth.

Except for when you had to tell Deuce to let it go and he looked at you for real and it was like the world stopped for a minute but then Ace started making fun of him again—

It was pleasant enough because Ace and Deuce were Ace and Deuce, and with the former acting as your third wheel, it could have gone much differently.

Deuce seemed to have apologized three times over by the time you were back at the dorms, convinced that Ace had messed up what you two had (first date jitters, you assumed. He wanted to make a good first impression, even though all of this was fake.)

Well, half of it was fake anyway.

You waited for him to stop talking about how sorry he was for Ace kicking you, asking if your leg felt okay, and saying he could go kick him back if you wanted him to. He sucked in a breath when he looked up from his shoes and realized you were staring at him again. You took your chance. You asked if he’d like a kiss. You watched as Deuce turned a million shades of red, his stomach no doubt doing flips from nerves.

Okay, yours was fluttering too. He was just not as good at hiding his as you were.

“If you don’t mind…could I give you one back?” he said so quietly as if terrified that you would run screaming for the hills at the idea of sharing affection.

“Please do.” you smiled, trying to ease his nerves even though it was so much fun seeing him flustered.

Your smugness dissipated when he leaned in, pressing a single, delicate kiss to your cheek. The breath had been sucked out of your lungs at the brush of skin and skin, the hand intertwined with yours squeezing and squeezing—

He pulled away too quickly, lips drawn into a thin line. Swallowing your nerves, you lean in and kiss his cheek as well. You let it linger just as he had, pulling away only when you felt his palm grow sweaty again.

His slack-jawed look was absolutely worth it.

♠

Thursday.

Thursday is when the realization happened.

Though, you wished it went a little smoother.

You found Deuce standing over a flower bed that morning, his hair tousled and face red. His flustered face fluttered across your mind for a moment, but you stamped the thought down when you saw the smashed vase at his feet.

Oh.

“Oh!” Deuce jumped, locking eyes with you, “Oh man, I thought you were Riddle.”

Wow, he must be really anxious if he mistook you for Riddle.

“He’s going to kill me.” Deuce murmured, combing a hand through his hair again, “I try so hard to be a good honors student and not get in anyone’s way but I keep messing up—”

“Hey.” you cupped his face, halting his train of thought immediately, “Hey. Calm down. I got this.”

There it was again. That same, slack-jawed look he always gave you. You smiled reassuringly, grabbing the hand that was dangling at his side and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Let me handle this. I promise I won’t let you get in trouble.” you wrapped your pinky around his and squeezed.

Before he had a chance to respond, you started dragging Deuce out of the gardens. It took him a second to realize that you were trying to find Riddle. His grip tightened as panicked yells filled his brain, but he tried to quell them as best as he could. Even if you were a little weird sometimes, he trusted your judgment.

“Housewarden Rosehearts?” you called, poking your head through the doorway to the dorms.

Deuce’s panic increased tenfold when the boy himself stepped into your view. He must have been surveying the dorms to make sure nobody had trashed them—though it's not like anyone would with him around (except for Ace, but there was always at least one exception.)

“I broke a vase in your garden by accident. I went to see Deuce this morning and tripped. I’m unfamiliar with the way things work in your dorm, but I’m aware that this clumsy mistake has caused an inconvenience for everyone here. Deuce told me I should tell you immediately and apologize. I’m so sorry for my actions.” your head was lowered through the entire speech, and Deuce couldn’t help but think you were laying it on thick.

Riddle sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could see his face turning bright red, a telltale sign that he was getting angry that you’d learned from both Ace and Deuce. Speaking of Deuce, he was gripping your hand so tight you thought he might cut off circulation. You made no move to acknowledge him though, 

“Very well.” Riddle breathed, seemingly handling himself with a lot more composure than you expected from the stories you heard from Ace and Deuce, “If you are to be here regularly to visit your romantic partner or friends, it would do you well to learn the rules. Next time I will not be so merciful. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Housewarden Rosehearts. I’m grateful.” you squeezed Deuce’s hand and turned on your heel, dragging him back out into the garden.

Once you were out of earshot, Deuce let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“How did you do that?” he hissed, eyes wide.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to get in trouble.” you shrugged as if getting away with breaking a vase was nothing.

You really were amazing.

Deuce swallowed and began to let go of your hand, but you held him there.

“I don’t mind that your hand is sweaty.” you said, your voice sounding more like a demand than anything.

An unsaid demand for him to keep holding your hand.

You, with your pretty eyes and blinding smiles. You with your voice that could never get out of his head. You, with your pretty hands that he wanted to hold forever if he could, and you with your neverending tolerance for him.

Every time he messed up you reminded him of how good he was doing. You reminded him of what he stood for and why he tried so hard for the people he loved.

You reminded him that chances were to be taken, lest they slip away from you forever.

“I have to tell you something.” Deuce murmured, heart inching its way up his throat.

You stopped, still holding his hand in your grip, your fingers intertwined and Deuce could help but feel like he’d pass out.

Clenching his jaw, he reminded himself to not be a coward.

You stared. Waiting patiently, always waiting for him. He refused to make you wait any longer, especially not for him.

“I’m in love with—”

“Deuce.” you interrupted, bringing a shaky hand to cup his face and that’s when he knew you were just as nervous as he was right now and that made his heart flutter and sing and jump in his chest and briefly he wonders how it got back down there when he’s been so nervous but his throat doesn’t even feel tight anymore and—

“I know.” you smiled.

And that’s all you said.

“And I get it.”

Nevermind.

“What…What do you mean?” Deuce stuttered, his eyes wide and he’s certain his pupils are blown right now.

It’s like you’re the only thing that exists anymore.

“Do you want to stop this whole thing then?” you asked, letting go of his hand and he doesn’t even have the opportunity to be disappointed because you’re wrapping your arms around his neck—

But no.

He comprehends what you just said and his heart drops.

Do you want to stop?

“What does that mean?” he can feel his palms getting sweaty again, his heart racing, and blood rushing to his head.

“I mean, we can stop this now. This fake relationship we have going on. Unless I misunderstood you?” you also seem panicked, Deuce notes, as you slowly step away from him.

“You definitely didn’t.” he says, his arms dangling at his sides like dead weights, “But I’m really hoping that I’m misunderstanding you.”

“Deuce…you don’t want to keep up this front forever, do you? I mean the whole reason you asked me to do this was because of Ace. Don’t you want to make this official?”

Your words are falling out like water droplets from the clouds on that day you forgot you were dating when he stared at you with so much admiration.

His thoughts immediately grind to a halt as you say the word official and suddenly he’s light and happy and radiant instead of panicked.

“You want to date me?” he points to himself, as if the mere idea is preposterous, “What?”

“Yes!” you all but shout, throwing your hands up in the air, “I thought it would be funny to mess with Ace at first but I started realizing that I feel differently for you than I do him and that I want to be with you regardless of whatever hijinks we need to pull on Ace to get him back!”

“I—” Deuce stops himself like he’s processing everything you just said.

And you know. You understand, because he’s never been confronted like this before.

“You want to be with me.” he murmurs to himself, beginning to pace, “And I want…I want the same thing.”

“Deuce. Are we going to make this whole thing official now or not?” you grab his hand again, and he looks at you like you just asked him the most serious question in the world.

“Yeah. Yes. I’d like that.” he smiles.

And you smile back, as brilliantly beautiful as ever.

♠

Friday.

Friday is when you were confronted.

There was a noticeable change in Deuce’s attitude towards you, a switch from nervous and unsure to flustered and elated. He followed you around like a lost puppy, carrying your things as staring at you frequently. Ace was even more confused by this change in mood, if that was even possible. You thought it was charming, how quickly he switched, even if everyone around you two thought it was strange. You had no reason to believe you weren’t guilty of the same behavior, if the head pat you bestowed upon Deuce before heading into your second class of the day was an indication. You made sure you kept the public displays of affection on the down low though—you didn’t want to embarrass him too much, lest he be scared away.

“What is wrong with you two?” Ace grumbled, eyeing the two of you like he was personally offended.

“What do you mean?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from Deuce to look at your third wheel.

“You’ve been even mushier since the first few days. I thought it would get less gross.” Ace narrowed his eyes, “You guys are weird.”

There were a thousand things you could have said. You could tell Ace about how you and Deuce had been faking dating for only four days before cracking, you could tell him about the time you two gave each other kisses, you could tell him about how all of this started because Deuce had asked you to pretend to date him. Pretend to like him.

As if you needed to.

Instead, you laughed. Deuce exhaled sharply, a small smile on his face too.

“Guess it’s just weird how those things work.” you hummed, flicking Ace’s forehead.

He swatted your hand, snorting as you reached out more to whack him. Ace dodged, taking off down the hall with a taunting laugh. Deuce watched as you ran after Ace, his hand burning where you let go.

But this time, it wasn’t a burn of longing.

It was a burn of affection.

[tansyuduri]

Merlin Loregasm Rewatch S1E4

Hi Everyone! Welcome to my rewatch of Merlin focusing on the lore. I am a giant nerd so pretty excited about this. We're on THE POISONED CHALICE

OKAY so @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile our resident Old English expert explained to me something really interesting. the spell used by Nimueh draws its power from the Spear-Danes, the semi pagan culture featured in Beowulf (Who had their own lake lady in Grendel's mother who was likely a priestess of the old religion And linguisticly called Disir) There is more though The first lines of the spell also seem to be Nimue saying she owes her magic to the spear Danes (that Grendel the monster in Beowolf ate) At this point I'm wondering if its meant to establish she is saying HEY MY SPELLS ARE PAGEN This will not be the only Beowulf reference in this episode. (Its never referenced or quoted after this episode) I'm wondering if the translators threw this in as a joke or easter egg Or in my freind's words "fuck it. lets canonize Beowulf in this universe real fast" (Okay I just discovered one of their choices I'll talk about later and HOLY FREAKING SHIT)

Mercia is traditionally thought of as a kingdom formed during the anglo-saxon settlement of Britain (Which occurs post Merlin acoirding to Merlin having saxons of enemies in later seasons) The historic king Arthur if he existed was said to have fought against the anglo saxons but this is just a footnote as we are focusing on Merlin Universe) HOWEVER a 13th century text says "“Pagans came from Germany and occupied East Anglia, that is, the country of the East Angles; and some of them invaded Mercia, and waged war against the British.” 

British here being Original pre-saxon inhabitents. SO it is possible that a Mercia existed before The Anglo-Saxons. This could also be the Historian using the name he knows. Bayard is not a recorded later King of Mercia either so good choice in name if we want him to be a Britonic king from a Mercia founded before the Anglo-Saxons apear. Fun fact Mercia also resisted leaving paganism longer than any other Anglo-Saxon kingdom! BUT Anyway in Merlin Mercia is a thing, Its ruled by Bayard, and its color is blue. It would be in the midlands of England most likely.

Also he was at war with Camalot, but now is not. I wonder if that has to do with Uther having not inherited but taking over the kingdom! Uther: The treaty we sign today marks an end to war and the beginning of a new friendship between our peoples

I also think Uther as a peacemaker is interesting, especially as we see this more than once. It might be why some people view him as "A good king."

So this at first glance SEEMS like it hints more toward paganism. Beltane is a Gaelic May Day festival. But its renamed version May Day was not exactly Christianized. See most other big Gaelic festivals (usually religious) Were kinda taken over by Christianity when it came. Yule became Christmas Samhain became All Saints Day (All Hollows Eve) ETC. Beltane was also celebrated in some places ALONG with Christianity until the 1800s. (Scotland did this specifically) In modern times Beltane is VERY Pagan. And it is very possible this hints further toward the Camalot is pagan or just nonreligious side of the entire debate. (Despite people using words like god or hell.) But it's not quite as conclusive as many other type of references would be.

(For context despite it saying we've Arthur here is talking about Merlin, who just announced his cup was poisoned, exclusively which is interesting!) See slow gin is a type of alcohol made with juniper berries and blackthorn fruits. It was traditionally brewed (With a lot of home brewing) in October and November and used as a warming drink in the depths of winter. AS you can tell this episode does not take place in winter. I think there are two possibilities for Arthur picking this drink specifically to mention despite that. The first is that as a prince perhaps the drink is available to him year round if he wants it and he doesn't know that is not true of most people yet. The second is he is so panicked at the prospect of the trouble Merlin is in his mind latched on to the first drink that popped into it.

Okay, so Mort means death in Latin. And the ending suffix here Usually makes the word an adjective from proper or place names BUT often appears in flower naming. So basically this plant is named The "Death Flower" Flower or "Capital D Deathly" Flower

Gaius: it can only be found in the caves deep beneeth the forest of Baloch The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.

Uh okay. THERE IS SOME SHIT GOING DOWN with this plant. First of all, flowers growing from the roots of a tree is just weird. flowers are basically there to attract things to pollinate a plant usualy. If a tree has flowers they do not grow from the roots. Second of all its kinda weird for flowers or trees to grow in DEEP caves. Sunlight cannot read them there. I would give it a pass if it did not say deep because if there were cracks in the ceiling of the cave that could put light though. It does kinda explain why they can ONLY be found there though. If its so odd and specialized it might be the only place it can grow.

This flower is either innately magical in some odd way or does not conform to evolution. So at this point I am pretty sure it was bred/engineered/magiced into being but some sorcerer. Likely specifically for poisoning people. and that person wanted to limit the people who knew of it and thus kept it in once set of caves. BUT SOMHOW news got out about it. Ok so I also looked up Baloch. In Welsh it can mean dig or sorry. In Irish it means boy and in scottish the same thing. So no info to be gleaned from that

Gauis: A cockatrice-- it guards the forest. Its venom is extremely potent, a single drop would mean certain death. OK first of all I'm doubling down on there being some past sorcerer, Because they were FOR SURE using these as guard dogs. Second of all I LOVE Merlin paying fast and loose with magical creatures from folklore because I can too in my fics A Cockatrice in folklore was a monster created when a toad or snake egg was hatched beneath a chicken. It could kill with a look, or a breath, or a touch, and was basically a two-legged dragonish creature with a rooster head. In the Merlin world it is very diferant. We'll see one soon! "Few who have crossed the mountains of Isgard in search of the Moraeus flower have made it back alive." Yeah can't find any meaning behind the name Isgard! BUT HAVE I MENTIONED I THINK A SORCER ONCE LIVED IN THE CAVES/FOREST.

Okay I think this is a reference to the actual historical job of taster. Basically important people (ESP royalty) would hire someone to taste all their food before thay ate it. That way if it was poisoned the taster would die instead of them. It was viewed as a pretty plum gig because poisoning didn't often happen (ESP if people knew there was a taster) and the taster got to eat REALLY good food and get paid for it. I think its also an interesting character detail that while this kinda implies that Uther might have someone (At least for his private food and not banquets) We see multiple times that Arthur in fact does NOT. It is quite possible he managed to put his foot down and get out of this somehow because he believes it to be wrong. Which not gonna lie is a very Arthur thing to do.

(Context: Arthur talking about how Gaius said they can save Merlin if they get the leaf so it is not a fools errand) Waiiit is this trying to imply that Gaius was the one who brought up the idea that one could use the old religion to give Uther a son? I mean we knew he was the messenger. but HOLY SHIT. And if that is true, Uther somhow forgave him? Why would Uther forgive him? The only thing I can think is if Gaius talked about how magic had tricked him and gave Uther something else to blame. This is all conjecture though. Uther could be referring on how Gaius is close to Merlin or something else. It just feels like it might be a nod at what all went down around Arthur's birth.

Okay so this is Merlin quoting Beowolf here. A Poem that is yet to be written down but might have had some oral tradition and actually takes place at the traditional time Arthur is said to have lived. Merlin is basically talking about how Arthur/Beowolf is endowed with honnor. This happens right after Arthur decides to ride out to save Merlin.

Magic Rule Established: Potions/Poisons can be more potent if magic is used in their preperation

Okay MORE Beowolf

Merlin says Arthurs name then basically talks about a young man doing good deeds.

Playing hard and fast as I said. LOOK Dinosaur!

Okay so more Beowolf At this point I am 99.99% sure the people hired to write the spells at the time where having the time of their life. Let me explain

This line talks about gifts of treasure (the light) he conjuress to help Arthur. Fine. BUT then it mentions Arthur being under his father's protection. Expect Merlinto protectg him. The spell writers used a freaking old english poem to let Merlin call himself Arthur's "daddy" I am not sure what I am expected to do with this knowledge. (It might have been chosen so they could use the next line of the spell but THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS) The next line (Which is actually also the next line in the poem) says something about how so that when Arthur is older his companions can stand with him when war comes.

Okay so yeah turns out there is no tree or roots. I'm chalking this up to he said she said. STILL GOING WITH THE SORCERER.

OKAY so it a potion is made using magic the antidote may ALSO need magic

Oh look our first hint Merlin is immortal. I find his brand of immortality intersting. HE CAN DIE he just comes back after a bit.

[ultravioart]

The hangyu fan design stealing was disproven, but this Mega Delphox design that predates Palworld absolutely was lifted from a fandesign to make the Pal Wixen.

I will not be reposting the artists fan design, please click the link and give eyes/credit to the original fanartist!

Pyroaura98/EtherealHaze made this Mega Delphox fan design art prior to 2014, but this post was made in 2014. Either way it predates Palworld (announced 2021).

And this is the Pal design Wixen

Many fan made megas for Delphox include a hat, but Wixen is obviously taking from the design EtherealHaze made because:

-The red hair strands flow into the red hat, a very unique/distinct design element of the EtherealHaze's fan design.

-The red hat incorporates the ears into it as red, just like EtherealHaze's design (most other fan designs for mega delphox leave the ears seperate and a different color)

-The orange triangle chest fur.

-The white paws INSIDE the 3d red sleeve holes, just like EtherealHaze's design.

And for reference, this the official Pokemon Delphox: note no 3d sleeve holes and black paws.

It is unethical for larger companies like Pocketpair to use designs from smaller artists without consent and compensation.

TemTem received legal permission for the viral fakemon platypus line from the original artist.

Palworld did not receive legal permission for the fanmade Mega Delphox design.

Just to make it clear, Pokemon themselves have made parody designs of other series monsters, and in the monster taming genre MANY games parody eachother, so I don't think Palworld parodying official Pokemon is inherently bad. It also is pretty much impossible to financially damage Pokemon with parody as Pokemon is one of the richest IPs in the world.

However, Palworld making parody of small artist's fanmon designs without consent and compensation is not ethical.

Pocketpair is a larger company taking from someone who cannot legally fight back. Pokemon can sue Palworld if it really is an issue for Pokemon, but EtherealHaze cannot do so with the same ease because good lawyers are extremely expensive, and the legal battle can be very time consuming and stressful for just one person.

TDLR; This post is meant to inform consumers about the products, I am not defending Pokemon nor Palworld nor TemTem, only aiming to inform about practices I feel are unjust. Palworld devs lifting from fan made fakemon without legal consent and compensation is unethical. If you still wish to play Palworld, please consider pirating Palworld instead of purchasing/playing online (release sales and online player numbers are used to get investors for the company/game).

Additional issues with Pocketpair's behavior towards AI and NFTs:

Pocketpair has previously published a party game that hosts an unethical generative ai art model. And no you are not 'spotting the ai art vs hand drawn art'-- that is disinformation.

In this party game every player during a round uses ai to generate images based on a given theme, except one imposter player that has to guess the theme. Then the group tries to guess which ai image was created with the imposter prompt. This game profits off of hosting an unethical generative ai image model.

Why is this generative ai model unethical?

Generative ai image models like Stable Diffusion, Midjourney, etc, are trained on open web data (scrubbing the entire internet, uses private info/copyright/NSFL content -- article linked discussing what kind of illegal NSFL content Midjourney, Stable Diffusion, etc has been trained on. Images of warcrimes also are used in such datasets.)

This is absolutely unacceptable and should not be supported. Datasets can absolutely be made without illegal content, truely twisted people were unwilling to make ethical datasets with legal free to use images.

Also in general, big generative ai model dev (be it text, image, etc) is notorious for abusing workers. It often exposes grossly underpaid employees to traumatic materials with no proper mental health care. Link. You can read many articles about this issue online. For reference, government intelligence workers have therapy for the traumatic content they view, so even if its ai generated, constant exposure to traumatic content is not to be taken lightly. Workers are real people.

Additionally, Pocketpair social medias have flirted with NFTs, and the CEO of Pocketpair is a founder of a cryptocurrency company called Coincheck. NFTs are scams (you purchase the receipt, not the actual item, and all NFTs loose monetary value) and if that wasn't bad enough, NFTs, Crypto, and in general Blockchain infrastructure waste a shiton of resources via proof-of-work processing, you might as well be pissing oil into the ocean. Link. That is not ethical.

It does not appear that the game Palworld itself uses unethical ai, nor has it stolen actual pokemon 3d model topology, BUT the EtherealHaze fakemon design has been lifted from without legal consent, which is enough for me to drop the game. Furthermore, I cannot trust Pocketpair as a company to not introduce unethical ai and NFTs into Palworld in the future, due to the company's past behavior.

Whether you continue to play Palworld is up to you, but as I said before, please consider pirating the game instead of purchasing or playing online, since the stats can be used to get investors for the Pocketpair company/Palworld game.

[sxypigeon]

Lunch Interrupted - A Wenclair story

A/N: Is it too much to ask to have her new girlfriend to herself before announcing their relationship to the world?

Yes, it is.

Wednesday gets over herself much to Enid's amusement.

___

“Please tell me you didn’t actually- What am I saying?  Of course you did,” Bianca muttered to herself.  “You know it actually explains a few things.”

I wasn’t given the chance to ask what exactly the siren meant - I’d have to interrogate her later about how my childhood experience of being held captive and witnessing an aunt die by electrocution might have affected my young psyche.

“Hey, Enid!  Do you have a minute?”

Since returning to school, Enid has endured many new solicitations for her attention.  Ever the kind hearted monster, my wolf has been patient and kind to all . . . deserved or not.

“Sure.”  The werewolf leaned into Wednesday with a comforting, slightly-clawed hand on her shoulder as Enid stood and stepped over the bench seat.  The two steps she took from the table still allowed their conversation to be heard.

Many of these solicitors wouldn’t have given Enid the time of day six months ago, but feel entitled to her time now, as if they were doing her an honor by conversing with her.  The other werewolves are easily the worst offenders, both in number and entitlement.

Wednesday raised her gaze from her meal and met Yoko’s unimpressed look from across the table.  Both of them had similar feelings about Enid’s new found popularity.  They had a loose agreement, that Enid of course was unaware of, to cover for one another if either decided to follow up with any of the would be suitors. . . Yoko unfortunately insisted on light maiming only.    

“I was wondering if you had any plans for spring break,” the stocky, interloping wolf asked the blonde.  The confidence in his purposely lowered voice made Wednesday almost cringe.

I can’t see either of them, which I suppose is some relief.  I doubt I’d be able to remain seated otherwise.  The last time one of them dared to touch my beloved - well, Enid was adamant I take the violence down several notches in the future.

“I do actually-” Enid started to say brightly.

“My pack is hosting the jamboree this year!” he practically shouted over her.  “It’ll be a great way to network with the biggest clans . . . maybe even find a mate.”

At the beginning of the semester, I promised Enid I wouldn’t consciously act in a way that would put myself at risk of expulsion.  I have never wanted to break that promise more in my life.

Keeping her cool, as always, Enid kept her voice light.  “That sounds super fun, but I’m going to be spending the week with a friend.”

We haven’t exactly announced our relationship to the public.  Her- our friends know, but Enid has yet to post it to her blog at my request.  I know for a fact Pugsley follows her and I don’t plan on allowing my parents to know I have fallen victim to love’s nefarious clutches just yet.  I need time to mentally prepare myself for their inevitable onslaught of affection and knowing smirks from my mother.

His tone was dismissive, “But you can see your friends anytime, the jamboree only happens once a year!  You don’t want to miss out on a chance to-”

I have to tune the whining whelp out if I want to avoid violence.  That was the crux of the problem, I’ve always solved my problems offensively - physically or verbally and I’ve yet to find a suitable alternative.  Threats are my life blood and without them I feel lost.

Enid’s attempt to shake him off was starting to sound strained, “I appreciate the offer, really, but-”

This problem is my own making - if I’d just let go of my desire for privacy . . . The solution is laughably simple.  

Yoko, who looked on the verge of interrupting the wolves, shot Wednesday a look of warning as the seer suddenly stood and stepped up to roommate.

“Enid,” Wednesday cut in,  “I’ve forgotten something in our room and have to leave.”

“What?  Wends-”  Enid’s face was crestfallen, on the verge of distraught.

“I will make it up to you tonight, I promise.”  

Looking up into her dejected eyes is near agony.  I will absolutely keep that promise.

Before leaving, the seer reached up to cradle her wolf’s face between her hands, gently pulling her down just a bit into a kiss.

Enid’s gasp of surprise sends a jolt of confidence down my spine and is all the encouragement I need to pull her addictive body closer.  For a moment, I feel like growling, as if I’m the wolf staking her claim on her mate.  Enid’s hands tight on my hips are all the acceptance I crave.  

Behind us, I hear the vampire coughing violently, likely from Yoko inhaling her meal.  The rest of the lunchroom has gone quiet save for poorly concealed whispers, but the obnoxious mutt hounding Enid earlier has yet to move.

“Uh, the fuck?” he nearly demands with a hint of disgust.

If he refuses to take the hint, I have no qualms about continuing to prove my dominance over the self-important wolf.  Losing myself in Enid is dangerously easy.  It takes all of my self control not to let my hands wander from her flushed cheeks.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

I feel Enid snicker into the kiss which has turned into a rather pleasant makeout session.  

“My dude,” Yoko says loud enough for most of the room to hear, “I think that’s your cue to leave.”

I let my hands slide down to either side of Enid’s neck as I nibble her bottom lip.  I’m fighting a smile and about to lose.

“Bitch,” he muttered as he stomped off.

Oh, I will be having a thorough discussion with him in the near future about manners and how to accept rejection gracefully.

Stepping away slowly, Wednesday faced her stunned but amused girlfriend.  “Until tonight, mi amor.”

Enid was nearly trembling with excitement as she rather obviously resisted the urge to pull Wednesday back into her arms.  “Okay.”

Truthfully, I’m not able to remain in the cafeteria much longer.  The feeling reminds me of the ceremony after the Poe Cup, so many people rudely staring.  

“OMG! Did that really just happen?” Enid stage-whispered to the table as Wednesday walked away.

Yes, my chromatic wolf and I have plans for you this evening.  May the torment of my family’s curse I endure ever leave you enthralled for I have no desire for relief. 

[squid-in-the-tardis]

Back in October 2019, Nick Briggs (exec producer at Big Finish) confirmed and denied a bunch of things that they were planning at Big Finish.

Of course... 6 months later a lot of plans changed. I made a post about the original stuff back in the day, so lets see how much of it came to fruition!

Things that were "Definitely happening"

"A new series of Dalek Empire" - well, they made Dalek Universe! But.... that has the doctor, and it doesn't have the dalek empire vibe, which is all about what happens when the doctor isn't around to stop a dalek invasion. So no this hasn't happened.

"Charlotte Pollard Series 3" - No - Still delayed, still not released. But Charlotte has been in a couple of recent things, so its possible they've recorded it recently!

"UNIT" - ah yes, at the time the UNIT series had concluded with no news of if it was going to continue - it was in limbo, and peeps were concerned it was cancelled. After 2019, it came back for a storyline called "Nemesis", so yes this came back. Now that Nemesis is over, we are yet again in a limbo where we don't know if the series will continue.

"1st Doctor Adventures" - yes! We got more of these, now with Noonan in the role!

"3rd Doctor Adventures" - yes these are still being made

"Further Adventures of Lucie Miller" - No - nothing since the last set in July of 2019.

"Missy" - yes, series 2 and 3 were released and series 4 is coming out next year.

"Lost Stories" - yes, miraculously they somehow found more unfinished stories to turn into audio dramas.

"Eighth Doctor Adventures: Stranded" - yes, and 2019 was before the first ep of stranded came out but oh boy were there troubles for this series. The first 4 episodes were recorded before the pandemic, and then the remainder had to be delayed and shifted around in the schedule a lot. But they did release it!

"Classic Doctors, New Monsters" - yes, two new boxsets.

So 7 out of 10 of the Definitely Happening announcements came to fruition.

Things that were planned

"Both Alex Macqueen and Derek Jacobi as the Master" - yes, the war master series with Jacobi is still going on, but Macqueen has only appeared once: in 2021 with the boxset "Masterful"

"Narvin" - yes, has appeared in 2023's Gallifrey box set.

"Matt Smith knows that he can approach [...] to do stories [with Big Finish]" - Woops... This isn't really a planned thing, it's just a statement. Matt Smith has not joined the audio dramas yet.

"3rd Doctor Adventures with Liz Shaw" - yes this happened in a couple of the recent 3das.

"Jago appearances" - yes Jago has appeared in a couple of things, like the Paternoster Gang series.

"Jenny (the Doctor's Daughter)" - yes she came back for another boxset.

"Rose [Tyler]" - yes there's been 2 more boxsets with Rose.

"Davros" - yes he's come back a few times.

"Torchwood Series 7" - yes. This is referring to "The Story Continues", the audio continuation of Torchwood, with seasons set after the show. Series 5 was "Aliens Among Us" from 2017, Series 6 was "God Among Us" from 2018, and Series 7 was "Among Us" and finally came out in 2023. I'm not sure if they're planning to make a Series 8, I'm not really on the pulse of Torchwood - let me know!

"Re-arranging the Monthly Adventures" - yes. This is the one that fascinates me the most! Because at the time of my original post, we still didn't know what they meant by this. I remember at the time people mourning the Monthly Adventures (or "Main Range" as it was originally known), as that was how they got into the audios in the first place. I think the changes they made are much better - instead of having the 5th, 6th, and 7th doctors crammed into one range, they each have their own sections on the site. And all the Doctors feel on the same level now, and it's easier to get into. Plus: you can now just pre-order a single doctor's releases in a bundle, if you only want that doctor's stuff.

"Subscriber Short Trips" - Sort of. This is an interesting one, because with the end of the monthly adventures there aren't any subscriptions anymore. So the Subscriber Short Trips specifically are gone. Replacing them is something much more interesting in my opinion: the first boxset for each of the 5th, 6th, and 7th doctors each year has included a bonus 1 hour audiobook. I like this system because it makes it possible to get these audio books without having to specifically subscribe to a specific period of monthly audio books - with the subscriber short trips, you could only get them by subscribing! You couldn't get them by just buying something! Plus, I've liked the audio books I've heard so far.

"Constance Clarke" - Yes, she appeared in a few of the last Monthly Adventures before the range stopped, and also in the special boxset "The Eleven". She hasn't been seen for a while, though, as the 6th Doctor now has Hebe Harrison as a new companion, so they're focusing on her story arc.

"Vicki, Steven, and Dodo joining the First Doctor range" - Mostly - Dodo is the main companion in the recent 1das, Vicki is coming back in this month's boxset (January 2024), but Steven hasn't made an appearance yet.

So 10 out of 12 planned things did happen, with the other 2 being mostly as planned.

Things they had no plans to do

"A torchwood + cybermen story" - Nope.

"Class Volume 3" - Yes, they've done volumes 3 AND 4.

"Iris Wildthyme" - Sort of, she's been in some audiobooks but not in any proper dramas.

"Sarah Jane Adventures characters" - Yes, in the recent "Rani Takes on the World" series from 2023.

"Ace and Benny together" - No, I don't believe so.

"Raine" - Nope.

"David Tennant" - Yes he was in a lot of things over the pandemic.

"Multi-meddling monk story" - Yes, this happened in Missy series 3 in "Two Monks, One Mistress".

"The Rani" - No, as previously noted the Rani is still stuck in a tangle of Rights issues.

"Clara and (Lady) Me series" - Nope - was noted as a great idea back in 2019, but I'm sure that the actors are busy with other things.

"Frobisher" - Sadly no.

"Graceless" - Yes - the series didn't come back, but the main characters came back in "The Fifth Doctor Adventures: Wicked Sisters".

"Romana III" - Nope.

"Novel Adaptions" - No. This is one of the things that is very weird: fans vocally want more adaptions of the VNA novels from the 90s, and Big Finish want to make them. But.... Nick Briggs has said that they don't sell for some reason, despite being one of the most commonly asked for series. I doubt this will come back at all.

"New Series Lost Stories" - Nope.

"Shalka Doctor" - Nope.

"Mel and Glitz" - No, and sadly the actor for Glitz passed away in 2021, which makes this unlikely.

So 5 out of 17 things they had no plans for actually did end up happening.

Things they said Will Not Happen

"Lungbarrow adaption" - No of course not lol.

"Anniversary boxsets for 3rd/5th Doctor/the Master/etc" - Sort of - at the time, Nick said "Almost every year is an anniversary of something or someone now". But since then we've had an anniversary boxset for the Master, as well as a semi-special boxset for the 40th anniversary of the 5th doctor (albeit this was just a normal release that was a bit anniversary-like)

So one sort of out of 2 definitely not happening things.

Things they said "Just Imagine..."

(which means "we're not going to answer that right now for marketing reasons")

"More unbound" - Yes, the Doctor of War boxsets which came out in 2022.

"Marc Cory (from Mission to the Unknown)" - No, but the elements of Mission to the Unknown appeared in Dalek Universe (which is probably why they didn't talk about it).

"Eric Roberts and John Simm as The Master" - Yes! Roberts has his own little series called "Master!", and both of them showed up in the "Masterful" boxset in 2021. It was heavily implied in behind the scenes stuff that Simm is not planning to show up ever again, so that may be the only time we get a Simm audio.

"Class Series 2" - Sort of. This is referring to continuing the story of Class from after the end of the TV show, which they originally couldn't do for rights reasons. The 2023 drama "Secret Diary of a Rhodian Prince" was set after the TV show, but is so far the only episode to do so.

"More incarnations of the Master" - Yes, Milo Parker played the Master in "Masterful", but nothing otherwise.

"Lady Christina Volume 2" - Yes.

"New Earth Volume 2" - No.

"The Nine/Eleven/Twelve/more incarncations of the character" - Yes, in fact this character has appeared very frequently over the last few years and I'm starting to get sick of them.

"Delta and the Bannermen sequel" - No? I'm not sure what this was referring to, but neither Delta nor the Bannermen have returned.

"Jo meeting Missy" - Yes, this happened in "Masterful".

So 6 out of these 10 happened.

"I'll look into that"

"Availability of The Veiled Leopard and Sarah Jane Smith: Comeback" - Comeback is now available on the website, after many years out of print. The Veiled Leopard is not available on the big finish site in general, I think there's some complex issues there. They occasionally make it available for free as a bonus special thing for a special occasion, and you can also listen to it on their soundcloud page.

"Limited Edition Vinyls on the website" - When they did vinyls for the 9das, those were available on the website, so this did end up happening.

And that's it! Interesting to see how much changed (and how much didn't) between October 2019 and now.

[42bakery]

Re: https://www.tumblr.com/42bakery/760715378983911424/this-pecco-alex-thingy-has-kinda-reminded-me-of?source=share

(I'm the same anon and to clarify, it wasn't meant to be anti-anyone)

Also adding to what I said about what Michel Fabrizio said, I think it was so tasteless to use kids' deaths to say such things, especially when Maverick rides next ro Marc in the grid. But yeah, I'm worried about Misano because the whole thing is heated and we're going to spend 3 weeks there,the fault lies in the Box Official account which yes, I know is not officially from VR46 BUT, the account was followed by them (and TNT) and has over 70k followers (which is more than the attendance of Aragón)

What I heard a couple of journalists (admittedly I think Pecco mentioned it too) was that Alex didn't even look at him when going to race direction, that's what I meant about Alex telling him they would talk later in private which is something they did later(which, normal thing to do and the most mature I think). But yeah, Alex suffering by proxy is just, not fair. I think there's already much weight on his shoulders in terms of not being as good as Marc, which I'm sure Luca also suffers from (I don't think Pol did, tho,he was better than Aleix) but Lucia's position in the grid isn't as questioned as his (rn, he's on Honda hell) when he has 2 world championships. Again, there's a lot of riders who have one or none and who's status isn't as questioned. I remember when post-2015 Dorna announced that they were giving Jorge, Marc AND Alex bodyguards in Italy (which will surely make an appearance in Misano, like I'm sure Rodolfo is always booked as soon as the calendar comes out) and Alex shouldn't need one? He shouldn't be affected by what other riders IN A DIFFERENT CATEGORY do or don't do and it's just insane that death threats are being sent because two riders crashed. It makes me think of any time they crash Marc or Alex out, how they rarely complain about it. And I know a lot of people will say "well, it's because they, or at least Marc, do this all the time" and while yeah, that might be the reason, it doesn't mean that they can't complain when others do they same thing the same way other riders complain about them. It reminds me of when Jorge crashed Marc out of Valencia, how everyone and their mother, including Jorge at first, blamed Marc for it. And still to this day people blame him because if a Marquez is involved, it automatically has to be their fault. When Luca and Alex crashed... Who was at fault? Alex, even though he fell in the middle of the track and could've been ran over it wasn't about how good it was that nothing had happened, it was about Karma and whatever. Even when Zarco admitted to crashing Marc on purpose in Qatar las year to help Jorge, there wasn't as many people talking about that than about this. Hell, it was okay for Zarco to help Jorge but it isn't for Alex to help Marc (I do think he doesn't defend his position to him as strongly as he does others, but Marc also doesn't overtake Alex as aggressively as he does the other riders). When Pecco got the penalty by being slow in the racing like and ruining Alex' flying lap, people complained about Alex and Pecco threw him to the wolves before the press. So when Bradl did the same thing to Marc, he had to say that it was okay (and yeah of course is a bit different because Bradl was already dead last but still). While other riders blame their bike, Marc and Alex don't do so as much publicly and always try to take responsibility of it when they've made a mistake, like when Marc crashed in Austria. Like are they angels? No, but they're also not the monsters they make them out to be.

The reason why I said 2018 and not 2015 was that it was 2018 that Valentino said Marc was dangerous, which I think resonates for for this instance than 2015. Granted, they're doing the whole "a Marquez is helping a Spanish rider named Jorge win the championship against an Italian Valentino Rossi/ Rossi adjacent rider" thing saying that if Pecco loses it'll be Alex fault but Pecco has had some DNFs where he made mistakes and didn't get points.

About the 'rigging', what I heard is that Gigi sent one of his trusted engineers to help Marc with the set up and some people are interpreting Pecco's words that Marc "has something more [...] and that he does things that no other Ducati rider can do" as him saying that Marc has received factory pieces and factory help so that he would be the one to win in Aragon. Personally I interpreted it as the Ducati riders looking into Marc's data and having the same issues Pol, Joan, Cal or Bradl have had with him at Honda in which they didn't understand his data nor could they replicate his riding style without crashing (as said by them). He won because the set up was good from the start (it already was good in Austria) and the track conditions played into his unique abilities and also his experience with dirt tracks that allowed him to ride the Ducati by sliding the back kinda like he did with the Honda (which yes, other riders also do, but it is something they took up later in life while the Marquez brothers were groomed on the dirt track before the CEV and all that), and his beloved left handed corners.

Anyway IDK, I guess I'm upset because it's Misano coming up and I don't like how tense everything seems. Some journalists said it was 'spicy' but two riders being threatened is not spicy, it's deranged as hell.

Anyway sorry for the rant and my English, it's not my first language

Ups anon, I completely forgot about this ask. I saw it at work and I thought to answer it later, but then I didn’t and somehow my inbox got filled by other stuff and then I just forgot. So I’m sorry I’ answering this so damn late.

First of all, your English is okay, and I don’t think there is a lot of people who have English as their first language. As far as I witnessed, there’s a lot of Italians, from the South-East of Asia and then Brits and USA (and like 3 to 5 Spanish native speakers 😭).

Sorry for accusing you of being a hater, but lot of haters did that. They start to say something, and then turn around and throw that people under the bus and I though that was what you were doing to Marc. So, I’m sorry if I didn’t really understand it. My mistake and I apology for it.

Anon, I think you need to change the content you follow on social media. I mean it, you clearly follow some anti-Márquez and pro-Rossi, and that clearly is twisting the perspective. Also the VR46 is like a cult, it moves lot of people, and what unites them is their love for Vale and their hate to Marc (and Álex) and Uccio is probably their leader with Bezz and Pecco at the front.

I can understand not wanting to talk and not looking to the riders just after the accident, even not the same time, but that never allows the other rider to do what Pecco did. I'm more on Álex side, calm down and talk later only us because the race direction won't do anything to penalize a top rider, so better soleve this things in privat, but alas someone was very against it and points fingers and scream into the media.

because Misano has pass, we can know say that this really didn't help, Italy still gets Marc, and Pecco gave them a reason to boo and be assholes. I hope that their behaviour changes for the Emilia-Romagna GP, but I doubt it.

Okay if Zarco really crashed into Marc because Ducati told them, it shows 1) Ducati are assholes and need to be banned and 2) Zarco is a dangerous rider for even entertain the idea. If someone tells you to crash into another rider, you say no and then repot them. Motorcycling i dangerous enough to add that. Every crash, no matter how big it is, can end in disaster, and for Zarco to do that, he lost every bit of credibility he ever had. Hell he can go straight to hell or the equivalent of it in any religion. A rider like that has no space in MotoGP (or any mortoracing series).

If Pecco loses, he will take the recipts and also blame Marc for the incident in Portugal, which was also a similar incident and his own fault. Pecco doesn't know how to porperly fight in a clean way and is always cutting other's riders lines. And I'm not saying this because I'm not his fan, just look when he fights with any rider, like Jorge, the other rider is the one that cuts to avoid the contact, and when that doesn't happen, there's a crash. This also happened with Binder, and he was quick to try and throw him under the bus and ask a penalty, but I think it was the media who said if Binder gets a penalty so does Bagnaia in Portugal because both actions are the same. And same here. Bagnaia cuts the line and makes the first conctant. Álex loses the bike and crashes. had Pecco given him more space, this wouldn't had happen. Apparently is always about who couls have avoided it, and for me it's 60-65% Pecco and 35-40%Álex. Whereas in Portugal it was more of a 50-50% situation.

I didn't know Gigi was keeping a close eye, but makes sense because this year Ducati is doing things differently. This year riders don't have the full bike until Valencia 2024, whereas other year they give the final one to use for the whole year. I though Ducati was doing that to compare Marc with Pecco's and Jorge's data and see if he was good enough for the Factory team, and he has proven himself. And the reason he's doing things no other rider is doing is because when conditions neutralize the bike, it's all on the riders hand, and Marc is THE best one out there, and he has proven it over and over again. And I think at this point Marc is not relying so much on the past dara and set ups and is focussing more on himself and what he needs, so basically showing Ducati the middle finger and doing his own thing

Sure Marc got Factory help and factory pieces, but so does Bagnaia, Álex, Bezz and every other rider. Bagnaia is just throwing a tantrum because he can't win against Marc in the same conditions. I'm sorry, but I'm sure he will be this insufferable for the next 2 years.

Again, I'm sorry I took me this long to answer this

[skylarmoon71]

Lance Sweets (Bones) - Oneshot

A kidnapping was the last thing any of you expected. 

Especially with Sweets. While you had been through such situations before, you noticed the subtle changes in Sweets when the team finally found the both of you and stopped the killer.

Your suspect was a crazed maniac. Someone who took people from their loved ones, tortured them and enjoyed watching others in pain. Both you and Sweets had taken a few hits. Maybe endured a broken rib or two. Through the entire encounter you barely flinched. You knew your team would find you. Stop the monster. Sweets showed the same level of strength even when he was being tortured.

At the time he was fearless.

However, when the adrenaline wore off and you both had been admitted to the hospital after the apprehension of the most recent criminal. You heard him the first night. You’d snuck out your room to visit his room just to make sure he was alright. He was having a nightmare. It wasn’t loud enough to disturb other patients considering he was in an enclosed room. But when you stepped in and closed the door, you were worried. He was screaming, almost crying in his sleep.

That night you sat by his side and held his hand.

The days carried on. Every time you visited him, he wore a brave face. He smiled when the others would make their individual or collective visits. You wore the usual stoic gaze and they just all smiled and laughed, thankful that you both were both safe.

It took about three weeks for you both to actually be released. After an assessment you were both cleared for duty. Booth kept a steady eye on you, but after a day or two he confirmed that you were fine.

You however, kept an eye on Sweets.

“Come on Sweets, you wanna join us for a little field work?” Booth was grinning and Sweets laughed.

“As much as I would love to join your little rampage, I still think our current suspect has more to tell us. I’m going to work with her a little longer.”

Booth shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go, Bones.”

Brennan didn’t need any more convincing. They both paced out of the room, ready to chase another lead.

You looked his way and he sent you a smile before he turned and left. Had you been convinced by the smile, maybe you would not have picked up on the slight tremble in his hand as he walked away.

You’d seen the reactions too many times in the past not to know what was going on.

You’re not blind. It’s just a little strange that no one else notices.

But then again, Sweets is the psychologist. He’s the one usually reading behavior and explaining the reasons behind it.

He might have even gotten away with it if you hadn’t picked up on the way he would flinch anytime you showed up without announcing yourself.

Much like today.

“I really wish you all wouldn’t barge into my office whenever you please.”

It was meant to sound playful. He always complained about the way no one really ever made an appointment. They were either late for their actual meetings or just showed up at inconvenient times.

“What can I help you with Ms. (L/N)?”

He was standing right behind the chair he would usually be sitting in, comfortable.

In control.

At ease.

None of these characteristics were present right now.

“You’re showing early signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

He should know you well enough to understand that you didn’t sugarcoat anything.

From his complete stillness, you knew he hadn’t planned to be discovered.

“But I’m sure you know that. I'm a very observant person Dr. Sweets. You’ve been laughing and making obnoxious comments about the encounter in hopes that it’ll calm your unease. Brennan isn’t good at picking up on social cues and Booth thinks you’re just trying to be tough. But I’m not stupid. You’re trying to ignore the obvious because subconsciously you’ve already analyzed your behavior. It’s one thing to be oblivious to trauma, it’s another to know and understand all the trademarks for it.”

His face fell, and he slowly took a seat.

“I suppose I’m not a very good patient.” He states.

You shook your head, taking a seat right next to him. Sweets looks over, and you reach for him, taking his hand. He looks a bit astonished, because you know he’s noticed your need to always distance yourself.

“Do you know why my nickname was robot?”

“I assumed it was the tough exterior you adapted after your time at war.”

“It’s because I have a mild form of autism.”

Recognition begins to paint itself on his face.

“I know you thought the war closed me off.”

Given the fact that he’s dealt with countless cases like yours and Booth, you aren’t surprised that he would come to such a conclusion.

“In truth, I was rarely ever affected. Not like the others. On many levels I can relate to Dr. Brennan. She sees everything from a rational point of view. I’m the same. As a soldier when they told me to kill for the greater good, I did it without question. No matter the task, I completed it. My sergeant called me a robot because of my ability to obey what seemed like even the craziest orders without fail. I watched people return from war and fall apart yet I was unaffected. I’ve always known that I was different than most. I saw the world differently. I considered that I might have been a sociopath.”

Sweets shakes his head aggressively.

“No, sociopaths feel nothing. Not empathy, regret, guilt, nothing.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his need to reassure you.

“I know. Before I was always just fighting by myself. Being a part of this team has given me a reason to fight for others. That was all I really needed. It’s not easy for me to express love the way you all do. So openly and free. But I know that this team means more to me than my own life. I would die for all of you. That’s why I know that you’ll push through this, because you’re the voice that tells us why we do what we do. You keep us all in check. Now it’s time to do the same for yourself.”

You give his hand a squeeze, and he nods, lowering his head.

“I’m going to take a leave of absence for the next month.” He informs.

The right choice.

“When you’re better, make sure you continue to badger the duo squad.”

When he lifts his head, he smiles.

“You know I will.” 

[project-sweetbeast]

INSANELY IMPORTANT SWEETBEAST INFO

hey everyone! i know i haven’t posted or talked at all here in forever. i’m fine and well, just focusing on school and irl stuff. anyways, there’s some huge exciting sweetbeast news that i’ve been waiting to tell you all.

project sweetbeast has been canceled.

…to make way for a TOTAL REBOOT!

Project Sweetbeast will have a COMPLETE overhaul in terms of lore, design, format, and just generally everything, and it will be MUCH better. It will be strictly a COMIC with drawn images for every update. i’ve been working hard to refine it to tell it as the story it was meant to be. The reboot will be called just SWEETBEAST as opposed to Project Sweetbeast to differentiate it from the precursor.

I’m hoping to have biweekly uploads of it on webtoon, twitter, here on a separate account, and tiktok. it will also have a completely original SOUNDTRACK, which my irl friend made!

here’s the summary of the reboot plot:

One normal summer day in the 80s, a portal opened up in midwest America that lead to an alternate version of Earth, a “flip side” where the laws of physics didn’t apply, with a red sky, filled with strange creatures, powered by a supernatural energy that could power an entire civilization.

Of course, humans saw this as a business opportunity instead of something to be studied, and head honchos of corporations and entrepreneurs set out to turn this mysterious place into the tourist destination of a lifetime full of hotels, casinos, and enough entertainment to be a consumer’s paradise, where anyone could escape to find a new life and manifest destiny while the party never stopped- Flipside City. Even if you weren’t in for the fun stuff and were just looking to find a new life, with free housing, food, healthcare, public transportation, and more entertainment than you could ever think of, who wouldn’t want to live there?

There was just one tiny footnote in the dream city’s terms of living- once you moved there, you transformed into a otherworldly beast. Going through the portals corrupted and changed a human’s body to become suited to live in this strange place, and any human that went would have the body of a monster. But who cares if you become a beast when living here is so much fun?

As it turns out, there is a problem with that. A terrible accident happened, A beast came from Flipside City back to the normal world with peaceful intent- but destructive consequences.

World leaders voted and decided- the former people, now beasts, who inhabited this new experimental utopia were dubbed too dangerous, and to prevent something like it from happening again, it was shut down for good. All the portals were closed. Travel in and out of Flipside City was banned, and anyone stuck there was stranded.

Ever since their city was cut off from the rest of the world, beast society has stubbornly struggled on, and the tourists and entertainers banded together to make this paradise turned nightmare into their new home. No one has dared speak about Flipside City in 30 years, let alone traveled here, and no one knows what the city looks like now, or even if the beasts still inhabit it.

But this would all change when a slacker frat bro college kid messed around in a condemned science lab, accidentally opened up a portal, and became the first newcomer to Flipside City ever since it was put in quarantine from the outside world. The story follows his journey to find both a way to free the city and right the wrongs that happened 30 years ago along with finding himself along the way and navigating his new monster body, as he and his friends struggle to explore what it means to be human when no one in society is human anymore.

If you want to be kept up on updates, join the sweetbeast discord HERE (https://discord.gg/PSxeAm6x) or DM me!! i’m super excited to announce this project and i hope you are all too! :]

[ashxketchum]

Can be read on fanfiction.net as well!

Summary: Tyson and Hilary go off the trail while trekking but it helps them sort things out in a way no one expected.

Notes: This was originally written for a prompt in 2021 and posted only on tumblr. The prompt was placing one’s hand on the other’s mouth. I edited this slightly, added a little more context and now tada! It's helping spread the announcement for TyHil Love Countdown Survey on AO3 and FFN.

“This is a disaster.”

Of course it was, Tyson rolled his eyes, he wanted to turn around and tell her that she shouldn’t have expected anything better from him, but it was late and he was tired of walking around in circles and they were very much lost. So he decided to save his energy and continue onward without paying any attention to Hilary and her timely outbursts. If he could just bring himself to concentrate on his surroundings to recall anything which would serve as a hint for discovering the correct route, he would be able to lead them back to their camp, and hopefully some warm food.

“I can’t believe I trusted you to read a map correctly.” Hilary spoke up again, her tone getting antsier by the minute, almost starting to feel like a drill digging against his skull, “I also can’t believe that you left your phone back at the cabin-”

“Hey, you left your phone back at the cabin too.” Tyson spun on his feet, fixing her with an intense glare, to which she replied by folding her arms across her chest and shrugging nonchalantly, as if her actions were more justifiable than his, “And might I remind you,” he added through gritted teeth, “That the only reason we’re lost is because you said you heard the sound of water and led us off the trail so we could look for a non-existent stream.”

This time she squirmed under his glare, shifting her gaze downwards as her ears turned red in embarrassment over his statement. Satisfied with the effect, Tyson turned around and began to lead the way once again. They couldn’t have gotten very far from the main trail, Akebono Forest Reserve wasn’t even that large or dense, so Tyson was sure that if they stuck around the path that he remembered to be closest to the trail they were supposed to be following, they’d run into the people looking for them.

At least he assumed that people were looking for them, since it must be close to midnight and the dark clouds in the sky indicated that there was a high possibility of rain. His brother and his friends, albeit annoyed by the long (and extremely loud) argument Tyson and Hilary had had as soon as they arrived at the camping site, were not cruel enough to leave the two stranded in a forest during heavy rain.

He hadn’t meant to start the day on a bad note either, in fact, he was looking forward to this training camp away from home very much. But when the bus arrived and everyone eagerly shuffled in, Hilary chose to sit next to Daichi even when the seat next to Tyson was empty. He’d already instructed all the boys to leave him alone for the ride so he could get Hilary all to himself beforehand, but she said something about wanting to make sure that Daichi would have access to meds in case he started to experience motion sickness. The little red-headed monster then decided to act as if he was feeling under the weather, which made Hilary stick to him for the entire ride.

Naturally, that soured Tyson’s mood immensely, but she was still sitting behind him so he tried to make small talk with her as the bus waddled on. Hilary however, avoided his gaze and kept reprimanding him for not sitting correctly which made all the other guys and his brother laugh, and in turn ensured that Tyson wouldn’t be feeling happy with her anytime soon.

Still, he allowed her one last chance to be nice to him and give him the attention that she knew he was begging for. When they arrived at the campsite and Hiro decided to send them trekking in teams of two, he was taken aback by how his brother was genuinely trying to do something nice for him when his and Hilary’s name ended up together, but the way she stuck up her nose at the thought of spending time alone with him made his temper spill over the glass. That’s how they ended up arguing about the route they should take, whose instincts they should follow or who should hold the map and pretty much everything else as they ventured deeper into the forest.

Now they were lost and frustrated, two things that never made for a good combination.

Suddenly, Tyson felt the back of his jacket being pulled sharply and came to a forced halt, his train of thought breaking as he tilted his head back to see Hilary grasping tightly onto his jacket, bent over as she attempted to control her panting by taking deep breaths.

“You’re...walking too...fast.” She managed to speak after a few minutes, looking up at him with a pleading expression on her face and Tyson felt slightly guilty for being too lost in his thoughts to pay her any attention.

“Sorry, I’ll slow down,” Tyson replied, smiling sheepishly at her, as she sent him an exasperated look.

But as they started their aimless walking again, Tyson felt that his jacket was still being held onto. So after taking a few steps he paused, and tilted his head yet again to find that Hilary was still clutching onto it, even more tightly than earlier, and he ended up raising a questioning eyebrow at her.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she murmured. Her voice was soft and devoid of the demanding tone it had held all evening, which surprised Tyson and he felt heat rush into his cheeks as the double meaning behind her words registered in his brain. Watching his reaction, Hilary too understood the weight behind her words and turned a similar shade of red as she defended herself hastily, “I meant to lose sight of you again, don’t be such an idiot Tyson.”

Tyson shook his head in response, and they started their charade of finding the correct path once again, but this time there was a slightly giddy feeling in his chest every time he felt Hilary’s grip on his jacket. Whatever the meaning behind her words or the situation they were in, he liked hearing these things from her. He made a mental note to thank Max and Hiro later since it was quite obvious that the two had rigged the drawing lots to make sure Tyson would end up with Hilary as his trekking partner and the two would patch things up before the training camp started. Even if it had led to the two of them walking towards their potential deaths, at least Tyson got to see Hilary flustered over saying something cheesy to him.

It was only a few minutes later that they arrived at a sort of clearing, that Tyson recognized from earlier in the day, and it took him quite the effort to not jump up and down with excitement over the thought of being close to making it back to where the rest of the team were. His natural instinct reminded him that they were in a forest and loud noises could attract trouble during the night, so he calmly turned around to inform Hilary that they weren’t too far from the main trail now, but it seemed that she’d made the connection too, as her ruby eyes shined taking in their surroundings. However, Hilary’s instincts must’ve told her something else, because she’d let go of Tyson’s jacket and clasped her hands together excitedly.

“I remember this place!” she cried out, “I remember this from-”

Tyson’s hands moved on their own and before he knew it he’d put one hand against her mouth, muffling any sound that may escape from it, and the other on her shoulder, gripping it tightly to hold her steady. He sent her a warning look, gesturing to their surroundings with his head in hopes of silently explaining the situation to her, but when their eyes locked, he saw that there was no comprehension in hers, only shock.

And a moment later, Tyson hoped that the moonlight wasn’t playing any tricks on him, that what he had seen flicker through her dark garnet eyes was in fact, anticipation. It was also in that moment, that he became very aware of the fact that his hand was pressed against her lips, and how their softness left a tingling sensation on his palms, that travelled through his fingers to the rest of his body, or that every time she exhaled, he’d feel her warm breath tickle against his fingers, sparking a fire in his stomach that he didn’t know he was capable of igniting.

Tyson knew he should let go of her now, that at the least she’d understood she wasn’t supposed to make any noise, or that the absolute silence surrounding them indicated they were safe here for now and nothing would jump out of the bushes to attack them. But still, his whole body remained frozen in place, he was unable to move away from her, unable to look away from her eyes.

It was as if feeling Hilary's skin against his own had cast a spell on his mind, one that he didn’t mind being under. Had her eyes always been so alluring, so easy to get lost in, he wondered to himself, his own breathing turning a little ragged as his hand that was gripping her shoulder moved slightly and came in contact with her bare collarbone.

He felt her gasp against his palm and Tyson took that as the final sign, she wasn’t shocked or upset by his actions, she wanted more.

Well if she had led them to their deaths by going off the trail, the least Hilary could do was pay him back with a kiss.

Tyson slowly slipped his hand away from her mouth and let it slide under her chin, tilting it up towards himself. Just as he had hoped, instead of jumping back or shouting at him, Hilary responded by licking her lips and letting him know exactly what she wanted. She’d spent the entire day escaping his grasp and maintaining a painful distance from him, but now even she knew that it was meaningless to resist. He smirked at her, before leaning down towards her, moving his other hand away from her shoulder and wrapping it around her waist to pull her closer to him, her eyes fluttering shut as their noses brushed against one another, their lips only just an inch away from colliding.

He could almost taste the strawberry-flavoured soda she’d had earlier this afternoon, he’d made gagging noises at her when she opened the can in front of him, but now all he wanted was to feel that sweetness on his tongue. Just a little bit further and then he’d finally have his craving satiated, just a little bit further-

Suddenly there was a blinding burst of light which made both Tyson and Hilary jump as they pulled themselves apart and raised their hands to shield their eyes from the white light that covered them. When the two finally lowered their arms in an attempt to get a look at the interruption, Tyson felt his throat dry up as Hilary let out a small shriek and hid behind him, pressing her forehead and balled-up fists against his back. As if facing the person who’d found them in such a compromising position wasn’t bad enough, Tyson had to work extra hard to keep a straight face as Hilary’s heated presence behind him only made him lose his mind in a way he couldn’t explain to anyone.

“Well, if I knew you guys would’ve been making up in that sense, I wouldn’t have bothered to come looking.”

Standing a few paces away from them, at the opposite side of the clearing was Max, holding a large flashlight in one hand and his phone in the other. He eyed the two of them with an expectant yet amused look in his baby blue eyes as if expecting them to perform something solely for his entertainment, an embarrassed outburst or a dramatic brushing away of the scene as a misunderstanding.

But Hilary continued to hide behind Tyson, which made him responsible for putting up a confident and brave front for both of them. He squared his shoulder and was ready to inform his friend in a stable voice that the two of them had just been looking for the way back to camp, nothing more and nothing less when a cheeky grin spread all across Max’s face and he beat Tyson to the punch as he waved his phone's camera in their direction.

“Oh don’t stop on my behalf, I’ll treat you guys to something nice with the money I’ll get from Rei and Hiro once we get back.”

~ Fin.

[antvnger]

((OOOOOOOHHH!! This is a very very good question, Anon! I barely touched on the whole Obadiah thing in the original post, so this was a really good area to explore. I went overboard again which seems to be my MO lol so see below for the whole thing.))

I normally don’t use this word at all, but Obadiah scared the fuck out of Scott Stark.

Ever since he met the man when he was young, his brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER RUN AWAY RUN AWAY!

Scott could sense the predator vibes before he could understand what those vibes meant. He just knew Obadiah was scary.

And the fact he was around his family, especially his brother, all the time was really really bad.

In terms of Stark Industries royalty, Tony’s the heir and Scott’s the spare, so he was able to dodge a lot of Stark Industries bullets growing up. Grandpa Howard insisted he and his son, Charlie Stark who is good in this AU remember, begin grooming Tony from a young age, especially since Tony showed exceptional gifts so early in life.

Obadiah, being the power hungry monster he was, latched onto the elder Stark brother like a leech, and that was another thing that pushed the Stark boys apart. Especially after December 6.

Obadiah had successfully dug his claws into the heir, and he made a point to keep the spare at arm’s length.

Scott feared what Obadiah could be doing to Tony. He tried to ask his brother to check on him, but Tony shut him down so fast and so definitively that Scott knew something was wrong. Tony was afraid. Which made Scott afraid.

I have my own theories and headcanons on how deep Obadiah's abuse toward Tony went, but we won't touch that right now.

But Tony would not budge, and Scott wasn’t going to go anywhere near Obadiah to confront him.

So he went to Rhodey, begging and pleading to keep an eye on Tony and to try to keep Obadiah away from him. Rhodey, already suspecting something was up, promised the younger Stark he would do whatever he could to protect Tony. As if Rhodey already wasn’t, of course we all know he was.

Scott knew too, but he’s just scared. After all, Tony’s 21 when he took over Stark Industries, so Scott’s only 17.

Jump ahead 11+ years since this is a headcanon and I can play with ages and timelines and whatnot when Pepper gave Scott a call he never ever ever imagined to get. Tony’s been kidnapped.

And Scott flipped out.

Flashbacks and panic attacks and intense fear that he may have lost Tony before ever reconnecting, losing him like he lost his parents with nothing but memories and what-ifs to show for it.

And in his bones, Scott knew this wasn’t the complete work of outside forces.

His suspicions only deepened when Obadiah himself came to San Francisco to discuss the future of Stark Industries with him.

“The Spare finally called to glory,” Obadiah announced with a hint of disdain and mockery. “My deepest sympathies for your brother, Scott. Rest assured we are doing everything we can to find him.”

Those red flags Scott always associated with the man are waving frantically again. Good thing he had the sense to have Maggie and Cassie wait upstairs while Obadiah was there.

The man looked around the home with a pompous air. He never understood why the younger Stark didn’t take advantage of his name and inheritance instead of doing everything on his own merit. He could have so much more than what he had to work for. The struggle of every second born, he suspected, desperate to stay out of the first’s shadow.

“The Board of Directors is calling for the next in line to take his place in lieu of Tony’s absence.”

Scott gawked at him. “Absence? This isn’t like he’s on vacation, Stane. He’s been kidnapped in a warzone.”

Obadiah looked unfazed. “I’m just the messenger.”

“Like hell you are,” Scott actually growled. He’s a liar. Scott knew it. He just didn’t know to what extent yet.

Obadiah gave him a look that sent shivers down Scott’s spine. He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he was in danger somehow. “You know you never learned to trust me like Tony learned to. You always look at me like I’m a stranger. I’ve known you since you were a teenager.”

“Being an acquaintance since I was a teenager doesn’t mean knowing who I am. If you did, you would know I have no interest in Stark Industries. It’s not the same company my dad did so much for. You turned it into something worse than what it was, and you’ve marred my dad’s name.”

“I’m not the one who’s been running the company for over a decade, Scott.”

“I still blame you, Stane.”

Obadiah’s countenance turned cold and challenging as he towered over Scott. “Then do something about it.”

There. There’s the look. The predator. The monster drunk on a power he stole.

Scott shivered, but his glare didn’t waver. He did not want Stark Industries. He never did. Besides, taking it would almost seem to solidify what Scott feared: Tony wouldn’t come back. He couldn’t let himself believe it.

But leaving Stane in charge with free reign again sounded like a nightmare. Scott tried a different tactic by taking a slow breath. He would stall. For as long as he possibly could. Even if that meant pulling some Stark weight to do it.

“I just learned my brother is missing and last seen in dangerous territory. I need time to process this and work out some things here. Give me time to think about this. I will do what I think is right for everyone, especially the company,” he added to hopefully appease Obadiah. “Just give me some time.”

For whatever reason, Obadiah agreed, and as soon as he was gone, Scott sent Pepper and Rhodey a coded text. Since they were so familiar with Tony, maybe they’ll know about the code Tony and Scott used growing up:  Look into Stane. He’s no friend to Tony.

Unfortunately, the code was never decrypted.

Obadiah definitely saw Scott as a threat, and an annoyance since he kept putting off his decision on Stark Industries. It was pointless.

If he could help it, Tony Stark wasn’t coming back, and then when Scott accepted his place in Stark Industries, the pressure would be "too much for him" and Obadiah would “find him” alone in his office after he succumbed to pressures he couldn’t cope with.

Then there would be no one left but Obadiah to lead Stark Stane Industries into the future.

But in this timeline, four months later, Scott pulled the VistaCorp heist and got arrested, effectively keeping him out of Stane’s grasp and, little did he know, saving his life.

Three months later, Tony would return and cause Obadiah more problems. And we all know how that went for him.

[ailur4phile]

I posted 1,714 times in 2022

That's 1,011 more posts than 2021!

30 posts created (2%)

1,684 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dailyflicks

@iamthevigilanteshit

@deluxesoap

@milf-harrington

@likeasecrett

I tagged 1,259 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#art 🧶🍁🍪 - 242 posts

#comfort characters 🧸🍂🥧 - 155 posts

#heartstopper - 139 posts

#monster high - 116 posts

#stranger things - 107 posts

#taylor - 92 posts

#favorite ships 🌙✨💫 - 81 posts

#nice words 🫶 - 55 posts

#favorite films 🐭🪡🦋 - 47 posts

#wednesday - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#anyways me: life is a cruel anxiety ridden disaster rn also me: omg nick and charlie 💝💖💞🎀🧸💒🩰🧁🍄🍂🍃🍂💖💞

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

barbie when talking about season two kat in enter euphoria

14 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#4

happy to announce that tonight nate jacobs finally redeemed himself and won back the title for Worst Fucking Character Alive in euphoria. everyone give him an around of applause!

19 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

#3

no one:

my friend and i at six years old:

See the full post

24 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#2

you know what? i’m gonna say it. euphoria’s usage of the word ‘retarded’ is so outdated especially for a show that’s always on the nose with it’s politics. maddy isn’t a character from a 2000s teen drama film, and it doesn’t make her anymore edgy or cool for saying everyone is “fucking retarded”. of course no one cares enough to say anything about it because no one gives a real shit about disabled people. i get the show isn’t afraid of using offensive language, but every time any other slur was used, it was meant to make you cringe and feel uncomfortable. when maddy calls something out as retarded, it’s seen as ‘iconic’. not only does this dialogue just make her character feel outdated, but it’s also unnecessarily edgy and adds nothing, and could easily be replaced with any other word. instead, it adds an actual stigma to an already stigmatized group. it’s so frustrating to see people requote that in gifs or screencaps not giving a shit about how it effects a minority, caring more about how ‘relatable’ it is. fucking yuck

82 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

it is no character's birthday until this meme is made for them

206 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tooearlyforthis]

Help Me Help You

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (12.6k wc) Steve can't always admit when he needs help - which is why Robin is there to tell him. Weeks of therapy and he feels like he's gotten nowhere. So what happens when his therapist recommends a group session? What if he recognizes someone there?

Warnings: fluff, angst, mental health - anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mentions of loss, therapy, mentions of SA

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

This is a little different than what I usually post but I started writing this when I wasn't in the best place and I found it helped a lot. A lot of this stuff I've been through but if there is any feedback you guys have to portray the things discussed better please reach out!

“And how has that shaped you?”

The words echoed in Steve’s ears. He had heard it, comprehended the question; but his mind drifted far away. The grey carpet floor beneath him held no value, but he couldn’t look away. Why did he think therapy was a good idea?

Dr. Ackerman shifted in her seat, her pencil tapping against a notebook in her lap. “Steve,” she said sternly. He only mumbled a response, picking his head up. “How did not getting into college shape you?”

It sounded more like an interview question than anything else. Something a mid-level employee would ask him as he sat in the front of the store, nerves taking over his whole body. 

He propped his foot up on one knee, trying to think of an answer quickly. “Uh more resilience, I guess?”

Nodding, Dr. Ackerman wrote on her notepad. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, that kind of life wasn’t meant for me. It made me move on to better things.” He tried not to tap his fingers against his thigh - a nervous tick he had developed over the years.

“And why do you think that life, going to college, wasn’t for you?”

He tried to think of a way to justify his answer. Telling the truth wasn’t an option, despite it being the reason he sought out counseling. 

She leaned forward, letting her hands drift over her knees. “This won’t work if you’re not open, Steve.”

Shit how did she know?

Leaning back Dr. Ackerman continued, “I want you to come this weekend to sit in on a group session with my other patients. See how talking about what’s wrong may help you.”

“I don’t know –“ he began, already hesitant on her suggestion.

Putting up a hand, she silenced him. “No fighting. You need to commit, Stephen.”

The mention of his full name stung, a friendly reminder that she was older, wiser – a person who knew what was best for him.

“Trust me. This will help.”

Something smelled good. Way too good. 

It floated through his house, filling every crevice despite the absence of bodies. It made him feel safe, an unfamiliar sensation to him from the last few years. Following the smell, he walked into the kitchen. Robin was standing over the stove, a paper towel gripped over her arm.

“What did you do?” He asked, announcing his presence. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her. More and more the past few weeks she had been spending time at his house, even taking up a semi permanent room upstairs. 

She turned around, her face softening from a scowl. “Just burned my arm with oil. I think I put too much in the pan.” Steve chuckled. “How did it go?”

Shedding his jacket, he sat down at the counter. “It was fine. She wants me to do group therapy this weekend.” 

“Do you think it will help?”

He shrugged, not knowing his true answer. Out of all the people in their little party of monster fighters, Steve experienced some of the worst. From getting beat up more times that he could count, to getting tortured by Russians, he was in desperate need of help. 

But part of him still thought he didn’t when there were always others that would need him. His brain would spiral. To thoughts of the kids, hoping another gate hadn’t opened up; to Joyce and Hopper, wondering if someone would come back looking for them. But as the PTSD of his past caught up to him, it felt like the only viable option.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, diverting the conversation.

“Chicken,” Robin replied. “I mean, it’ll probably taste like shit. But it’s been a while since we had a proper meal, ya know?”

He nodded. “Yeah it has been…don’t worry though it actually smells really good. I think I’m going to take a nap before we eat if that’s okay? Just tired from this –”

“ – you don’t have to explain. I understand.”

He smiled at her – a genuine smile. Nowadays it felt like every emotion he felt was being forced, a sign to tell the others he was okay. But Robin had a way of bringing out his true self. She understood him in ways no one else in his life did. From the moment they went crashing down in that Russian elevator, they were linked at the hip - a single mind working cohesively.

Entering his bedroom, he felt immediate relief. It was a sense of safety, like a big blanket wrapping him in a warm hug. Sinking into the mattress he let sleep take him, hoping to not wake up from the horror of his dreams.

The weekend came sooner than Steve would have liked. He didn’t feel ready to walk into group therapy, no matter how much he tried to prepare himself. The unknown scared him, even when it came to just talking about his feelings. 

Robin offered to drive him. He was reluctant at first since she had only had her license for a year. But the session was a couple of towns over and she knew how his mind would run if he was alone in his car.

Pulling up to the building, she let the car roll to a stop. The engine continued to rumble in Steve’s ears, his heart matching the irregular pattern. It was like he was riding up a roller coaster, the top never coming into sight. He shut his eyes, trying to wish the feeling away.

Robin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. “Hey,” she began. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the water bottle he had brought. “Thanks for driving, Rob.”

“Of course. I’ll be here when you get out.”

With one last breath, he said to himself, “All right, let’s do this.”

He opened the car door, letting the cold air hit his face as he climbed out. It felt nice, like a wake-up call he so desperately needed. 

“You got this!” Robin exclaimed from the rolled-down window. 

He smiled, watching as she drove off before turning back to the big brick building in front of him. It was a different place from his usual sessions with Dr. Ackerman. But as he entered the building, he found it felt eerily similar. Was every therapist's office decorated the same? From the off-grey carpet to the leather sofa, it felt like a place he had been before. It helped calm his emotions just a smidge. 

“Can I help you, sweetie?” He turned to the lady behind the front counter.

“Uh, yeah I’m here for Dr. Ackerman’s group session?”

“Follow me,” she said with a warm smile.

The lady moved from her place behind the counter to open the door at the other end of the room. Closely, he followed her down the narrow hallway. His heart began to race, wondering how he could talk about his traumas without revealing the supernatural. It was hard to do with one person but a whole group? He might as well sew his mouth shut. 

“Here you are sweetie,” the lady said, swinging open a door. 

He barely had time to thank her before the door was shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room of strangers. Well, strangers plus one person he never thought he’d see again; Y/N L/N. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. It was very different from how he remembered her in high school. 

From the few classes they shared and the occasional hellos in the hallway, he knew she was a pretty friendly, put-together person. She was always kind to people, despite the unfriendly rumors about how many notches were on her bedpost. Last he heard, she was heading off to some Ivy League school after graduation. So what was she doing sitting in on this therapy group?

He wanted to talk to her, to reconnect even though they were never close to begin with. Her eyes were glued to the hem of her sweatshirt, pinching at it in boredom. Then she looked up, scanning the room before her eyes landed on him. Her breath hitched for a moment as Steve saw her realize who he was. 

Wanting to talk to her, he stepped forward. Before he could even make it an inch, Dr. Ackerman’s voice pulled him away. 

“Mr. Harrington,” she greeted him. “Glad to see you could join us. Please, take a seat.”

Giving a polite smile, he stole a glance at Y/N one more time. She was already looking down at the floor, back to pulling on the strings of her pullover. 

As the therapy season began and people began to speak, Steve found himself barely paying attention. He went into this session hoping to get the most out of it, to really take in and listen to what people had to say. But that was before he saw Y/N. Shy and still undeniably cute, Y/N. 

He wanted to hear her story, not the strangers they were surrounded by. He wanted to know why she was here, not in New Jersey, and what could have happened in her life that made her need therapy in the first place. Steve knew his past was fucked up but from an outsider’s perspective, it never seemed like hers was. 

Unlucky for him, she barely spoke the entire session. There was the occasional nod or spoken agreement, but she never elaborated on any subject brought up. The minute Dr. Ackerman announced their time was over, and before he could even talk to her, she was gone. Out the door and out of his life. 

Steve slumped back into his chair, feeling defeated. He didn’t know why he felt so down. She was never a close friend to him, even at the height of them interacting in school. He got up to leave, hoping to catch her outside when he heard Dr. Ackerman called his name. Begrudgingly, he turned around to face her.

“So, what did you think?” she asked.

“I uh, don’t really know,” he responded truthfully.

“Then I want you to come back next weekend. And try to talk more, okay? You get out of it what you put in.”

Nodding, he gave her a goodbye. He rushed out the door, hoping to catch Y/N before she left. But alas, he was too late. Everyone had gone for the day. The only person left was Robin, patiently waiting in the car next to the curb. 

“How’d it go?” She asked, as he stepped into the car. 

“Fine,” he replied, as he played with the hem of his shirt. “I uh… saw Y/N L/N. Remember her?”

“I think so. Pretty sure we had chem together. Wait, wasn’t she some big shot? Going off to Princeton or something?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess not anymore.”

Robin gave an inquisitive hum in lieu of a reply. He stared out the window as she drove, partly thinking of how much Robin’s driving had improved. But mostly, his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N and how he couldn’t wait to see her again. 

Steve made sure to arrive extra early for the group session the following week. He walked into the office complex, moving his way through the halls to the familiar door with Dr. Ackerman’s plaque across the front. With one last deep breath, he went in. 

The receptionist recognized him, letting him go into the therapy room with no problem. “Dr. Ackerman isn’t here yet but make yourself comfortable,” she told him. 

“Thanks,” he replied softly, watching her close the door behind him. 

When he turned around again, he was greeted with semi-familiar faces staring back at him. He scanned the room; no Y/N in sight. Giving a weak smile, he sat down in the same seat from last week. 

He could tell the others' eyes were on him, trying to get a read on the newbie. There weren’t many people there but it sure felt like a lot. A boy, probably around his age, a slightly older woman dressed very professionally, and an older lady that he had to guess was a few years away from a retirement home. 

“Hey,” the younger boy said, causing Steve to look up. “I’m Matt.” Steve replied with only his name, not knowing what else to say. Matt motioned to the woman in her late 20s wearing almost a business suit. “That’s Sam, and grandma over there is Louise. She could drop dead any minute so be on the lookout.”

“Matt!” Sam exclaimed, hitting his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Louise calmed her. “He can say anything he wants as long as he remembers that I know where he lives, and I own a gun.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his shoulders stiffening. Did that old woman just threaten him? Matt bursted out laughing. It was clear the group was comfortable with that sort of joking around. He turned back to a very tense Steve. “What are you here for?”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Sam told him.. 

“It’s complicated,” Steve said honestly. “I-I’m not really sure how I would explain it anyways.”

“Oooh,” Matt cooed. “Are you in a love triangle?”

“No I –”

“Family abandon you?”

“Well –”

“Oh I got it!” He interrupted again, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You got bit by a rabies infected bat and turned into a vampire.”

Steve tensed. How did he– it was obviously a joke. Not anything to take seriously so Steve decided to play along. “Actually, you’re not that far off.”

Matt chuckled, looking over at Sam who let out a small laugh as well. “I like you. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”

“Okay…” Steve said hesitantly, not knowing quite what he meant. 

The door softly clicked open, everyone turning to look who it was. Steve sucked in a breath when he realized it was Y/N. She was wearing something similar to last week, a pair of jeans and a sweater two sizes too big. The room was small enough that as she scanned the environment, her eyes locked with his.

Steve heard the others greeting her as she stepped further into the room, but his gaze was still fixed on her. Quickly, Y/N looked down, her hair falling gently over her face. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Maybe she realized that they would be seeing more of each other; maybe she didn’t want to see him at all. He watched as she walked to an open seat, setting her bag down at her feet.

Steve wanted to speak, to say something to Y/N even though he didn’t know what. Cursed again, Dr. Ackerman bursted into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Let’s get started.”

Even though his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N, he did manage to listen in more to the problems of his fellow group members. Matt was from a couple towns over attending the state college. His anxiety got the best of him and he had a falling out with his best friend. Sam was an elementary school teacher who suffered from PTSD from her younger years traveling as a military brat. And Louise was grieving the loss of her son - a car accident from a few months prior. He listened in more, taking in the symptoms and coping mechanisms they used. Some of the things they said sounded familiar, things that he could learn from his own terrifying experiences.

Once Louise, recounted her past week, how it felt in the wake of her son’s death, Dr. Ackerman turned to him. 

“Steve,” she said suddenly, taking him off guard from sneaking a look at Y/N. “You've experienced some loss in your life as well?” He nodded, not knowing where this was going. “Would you like to share a recent experience you had? Maybe the group has some coping skills to help you. 

Suddenly all the eyes were on him. He felt violated, talking in front of people he barely knew for two days. But in the words of Dr. Ackerman, it wasn’t going to help if he didn’t contribute. 

He began to speak, choosing his words very carefully. “Um yeah I guess I’ve been surrounded by loss, more so in the past couple of years.”

 He felt Y/N look up at him, sympathy in her stare. It gave him the courage to continue. 

“First it was my ex’s best friend. I didn’t know her well but she was last seen at my house so, I guess I blame myself for that? My friend, his mom’s boyfriend passed away, as well as another friend’s older brother…but more recently, a-a new friend. We had only just met… he uh, played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.”

He looked over at Y/N again who was still staring at him, her sympathy replaced with something else - something he couldn’t quiet. Fright? No, recognition.

“I think of him sometimes– the new friend,” Steve clarified, glancing down at his fingers tapping against his thigh. “We only knew each other for a short while but he was a good dude…I see stuff around town sometimes that reminds me of him and I feel like I’m back- “ 

In the Upside Down.

“In a dark place,” he opted to say instead. 

When he looked up at the group, he felt relieved. They all looked at him with a sense of understanding, like they knew what he was going through. Hell, after what he heard today they probably were.

“I see,” Dr. Ackerman began. “So group, what can Steve do?”

“Well, I find the 54321 method helpful,” Sam said. 

Matt pointed at her. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“The 54321 method?” Steve asked, hoping they would explain further. 

“Y/N,” Dr. Ackerman said. She looked up at her. “Would you mind explaining to Steve what this coping skill is?”

Steve looked over at her hesitantly. “Uh sure,” she said, sitting up straighter. She was trying to look at him but her eyes fell back to her lap. “You count five things you can see around you, four things you can feel… uh three things you can hear. Two you can smell and one you can taste.”

“Very good Y/N.”

She looked up at him one last time, her gaze holding longer than usual and Steve felt like she could take his breath away. 

“And have you been using those methods yourself?” Dr. Ackerman asked. 

She tore her gaze away from Steve, looking back at their therapist. “I-I’ve been trying.”

“Well that’s a step forward right? Effort is all I can ask for. Now Steve,” she directed her attention back to her. “Those were great examples, but not the one I was looking for.”

“It wasn’t?” 

“What about your parents?”

He shook his head. “My parents aren’t dead.”

“But are they around often?” Steve froze. She knew they weren’t. Where was she going with this? Shaking his head, she continued. “Couldn’t that count as a form of loss? The loss of parental figures?”

He remained silent. Could it?

“Loss is not just death, Steve. It can take on many forms.”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of it that way. How much in his life had he truly lost? His parents, his friends, his reputation… Before he could even begin to process what that meant, Dr. Ackerman moved on to Matt who talked about his recent split from his best friend. But Steve was still in his own mind. His own thoughts drowning out the voices of the people around him. 

Maybe he needed therapy more than he cared to admit.

Before Steve knew it, the session was over and he was making his way out of the room, the thought of loss still very much present in his mind. He didn’t realize how much therapy would actually help him. Though mental health was something more and more people were beginning to talk about, it still had a lot of negative stereotypes. One wrong step and you could end up in a psychiatric ward without really needing it.

Trying to give his brain a break, Steve shifted his focus to Y/N and how he desperately wanted to try and talk to her. But yet again, Dr. Ackerman stopped him. “So, how are you liking the group?”

“A lot better than last week,” he replied, watching a small smile form on her face.

“Good. That’s really good, Steve.”

“Can I…keep coming to this group? On top of our sessions?”

She nodded. “That was the plan all along. See you later this week.”

“See you, Dr. Ackerman.”

Despite the heavy topic of the session, the moment Steve stepped outside, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The air felt nice, so crisp on his skin it was like a fresh glass of water. He was reluctant to admit that Dr. Ackerman was right, but the lady knew her stuff.

Looking around, he noticed Robin hadn’t arrived yet. Everybody else was gone, or so he thought.

“I didn’t know that about your parents.”

Steve turned around to find Y/N leaning against a wall, a cigarette between her fingers. There was no need for introductions, they both had remembered each other – it was just a matter of who would speak first.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve began to respond, shoving his hands in his pockets. He spent so long building up the moment they would speak again that when the time came, he felt frozen. Like a deep in headlights. Making his way over to her, he continued, “Most people don’t.”

She nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. As she breathed out, a cloud of smoke followed, slowly floating above them. Steve tried not to wince at the smell. “Want one?” she offered.

“No thanks, I quit last year.”

Her eyebrows raised, surprised. Slowly she shrugged. “That makes one of us.”

Not knowing what to do, Steve looked around, trying his best to find something for them to talk about besides the obvious. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. “I thought you went off to college.”

“I did,” she said before mumbling, “Until Gary entered the picture.”

“Who’s Gary?”

Not responding, she puffed out more smoke. It was clearly a touchy subject and Steve knew all too well about those. 

“I-I’m happy you’re here though.”

She scoffed. “Really?”

He nodded. “I wished we stayed in touch when school was over.”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t consider us friends.”

“I mean, me neither. But I remember you being one of the few people that called me on my bullshit – could see through my lies…I need more people like that in my life.”

She stared at him, her cigarette still loosely hanging between fingers. He didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was searching for in his comment. Maybe the truth? To see if he was lying? Before either of them could say anymore a honk echoed across the parking lot. Steve turned to see Robin pulling up to the curb. She rolled down the window as she parked. 

“That’s my ride,” Steve said, slowly backing away. “You remember Buckley? Another Hawkins High survivor.”

“Yeah, hey,” Y/N said, giving a small wave.

Robin waved back and said, “Oh hey, yeah we had chem together right?” Y/N nodded. 

“I’ll uh, see you next week?” Steve said, turning back to her one more time.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” She took another puff. “See you next week.”

With one last wave, he climbed into the car, watching Y/N become a speck in the side-view mirror as they drove away.

“So,” Robin began, “You finally talked to her?”

“More like she talked to me but, yeah,” he responded.

“She’s different from what I remember. Tougher, less open to people. I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t.”

Watching as his house turned into view, all he could think about was seeing her the following week.

“Why are we going to the other side of town again? Why can’t we just go to the burger place down the street?” Dustin asked, leaning forward from the backseat of Steve’s car. 

“It’ll be fun!” Robin said, arching her head to look back at him. 

“What’s the place called again?” Lucas asked. 

“Gordy’s,” Mike responded. “Stupid if you ask me.”

Usually in these types of scenarios, Steve would be the one to call them on their bullshit. To be the babysitter that steps up to make things right. However, because of more recent events, instead of stepping up, he was slipping away.

Robin noticed almost instantly, jumping in to control the situation when her friend couldn’t. 

“Hey!” She shouted, cutting off the chatter from the back. “Yes, the diner is called Gordy’s. Yes it’s on the other side of town. And we are going because Max likes it and she used to go with her family. Right Max?”

“Y-yeah,” Max spoke up from the back. “It’s pretty good, I think you guys would like it.”

“I’m excited,” El said, getting an agreement from Will. 

Little chatter soon broke into more chaos, the kids talking over each other without a care in the world. Steve wanted to say something, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in an effort to stop feeling the anxiety running through his chest. But still, it was too much. He needed to focus on the road. 

“See? El’s excited,” Robin chimed in again. “Quit your yapping, we're almost there.”

Almost on cue, they turned into the Gordy's parking lot. Steve took a deep breath as the chatter in the back started to die down. He could almost hear his thoughts again, though he didn’t know if that would be a good thing. 

As the kids began to pile out of the car, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” she said. “Deep breaths, remember? If it gets too bad, do that thing you learned okay? The 123 method.”

“54321 method,” he corrected. 

“Yeah, the 54321 method.” She watched as he nodded, taking another deep breath. “Hey,” she willed him to look at her. “You’re doing great. You ready to go in or do you need a minute?”

“No, I’m good…” It wasn’t until they were standing right outside the doors, the kids already packed into a booth that he spoke again. “Sorry about that, I can’t control it sometimes-”

“You never have to explain yourself,” she interrupted him, grabbing one of his hands. “Never.”

Steve felt this warm haze travel through him, his chest expanding with what felt like a clean breath of air. Sometimes hearing that there was someone there for him was enough to keep him going. Squeezing her hand back, he motioned that he was ready.

It was easy to navigate to where the kids had decided to sit – noise only coming from one side of the diner. Of course, they were arguing. It was about some movie that had just come out though both of the older teens couldn’t quite place which one. 

“Zip it!” Steve shouted over them, standing at the edge of the diner booth. They all abruptly stopped to look at him. It was the first real words he had muttered all night. “Pick what you want to eat. We’re not spending an hour deciding like last time.”

Dustin smiled at his words. Sure, they were kinda mean, but when Steve got bitchy that meant he was alert. 

Sliding into the booth across from Robin, Steve picked up a menu. The options were like any other establishment, and the kids were quick to decide what they wanted. When it came down to it, their orders didn’t really change much from diner to diner. It was the talking that made their visits longer. But Steve liked to mix it up from time to time, especially when eating with Robin - they often split meals. 

So when the waiter came over to take their orders, he was happy they didn’t have to send the guy away. With El eager to get her waffles, she went first, Mike going straight after her. Steve guessed that meant he would be last. He took the moment he had to look around the diner Max had selected. 

It was nice, much nicer than the other places they had tried but that wasn’t saying much. Midwest towns with small populations meant slow repairs. The floors looked a little wet but that was probably from the amount of people walking through with the recent storm. The coffee machine was out of order and by the looks of it, it had been that way for at least a month.

Besides that, not much was out of place. There was an elderly couple sitting at the counter top across the place. Slowly they traced their fingers along a spread out newspaper Steve had to guess was an attempt at the crossword puzzle. But his eyes slowly drifted away from the puzzle and onto the waitress putting down their food. 

It was Y/N. Blue apron, hair pulled back to not obscure her face. 

His breath hitched when he saw her. It was so unexpected, seeing her in a place like this. She looked so calm, almost happy. He hadn’t seen her like that since their senior year. It made him wonder what had gone so wrong, what this “Gary” did to make her dropout of college. And even though he wouldn’t find that answer tonight, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.

As she smiled at her customers, her eyes scanned the diner.  Looking for more people to help, her eyes landed on him. There was some shock, the unexpectedness of seeing him, but she forced a smile on her face. 

“Steve!” 

He was pulled out of his daze by Robin, motioning to the waiter standing before them.

“W-what would you like to drink?” the waiter asked again, though Steve swore he never heard him the first time.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

The waiter, however, just nodded, walking over to where Y/N stood. Steve let his eyes follow him, watching the coworkers engage in conversation before Robin spoke again.

“That’s her, right?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear. He nodded. “You should go talk to her.”

He whipped his head around to look at her. “What? No.”

“Why not?”

Because my anxiety will make me fuck up my sentences.

“Because she’s working,” he said instead. “I don’t wanna interrupt her.”

“Please, it’s so dead in here she would probably thank you.”

“Who are you talking about?” said Dustin, trying to worm his way into the conversation.

“No one,” Steve said quickly. “Do your maze.”

He looked down at the kids menu in front of him. “I’m not a child!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe, but you love those mazes.”

He took one look at Steve before back down at his menu. Sighing in defeat he said, “Okay yeah I do…”

It was a new record. Almost an entire day without a panic attack. The food had arrived, the kids eating like it was their last meal on earth. Meanwhile Robin took the time to neatly split her and Steve’s food in half, handing him one of the plates.

He smiled at her before diving in. Well, more like inching in. He didn’t feel too hungry, despite not eating at all that day. That was the main reason for this little outing - to get him to eat food. But as the night went on and his food was still barely touched, he knew that something deeper was happening. 

Ever since he started therapy, he had been getting better at spotting anxiety and panic attacks, even preventing a few which he was proud of. But some would start for no reason, even if he was feeling better than he had all day. Something began to rise in his chest and he knew one was coming. Apparently, Robin did too.

Over the noise of the kids debating over some new comic book, Robin asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve dismissed out of instinct. “Just gonna go to the bathroom.”

He quickly stood up, not waiting for a response. The bathroom was unlocked thankfully and looked a little disgusting. Still, he had been in worst places. Staring at the faucet he cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.

Sometimes that helped, giving his body a wake up call it didn’t know it needed. But unfortunately, it wasn't working. He felt his breaths become shorter, more labored. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it in their hands. 

He needed fresh air. Yeah, fresh air would help.

Exiting the bathroom, he was thankful to see there was a back door just a few feet away. Pushing through he was met with the cold crisp air of the back of the diner. There was some air conditioner blowing so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. 

Picking what looked to be a clean wall, he sat down, trying to take deep breaths. His hands still shook, not slowing down despite his efforts. Nothing was working and he didn’t know why. What had even caused this panic attack? There was nothing he was scared or really anxious about to warrant this level of panic. 

He tried to remember what Dr. Ackerman told him in one of their private sessions. Sometimes panic attacks don’t need a reason for happening. 

“Harrington?”

He willed himself to look up at who was calling his name. It was Y/N, a cigarette in her hand. Perfect, just great. This is exactly how he wanted her to see him.

“Oh, hey,” he tried to say casually, trying to mask his attack. They could both tell it wasn’t working.

“Are you doing okay?”

He could tell it was more of a rhetorical question and he was too tired to lie. “I- not really. I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Hey it’s okay,” she interrupted him, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “We all get them okay?”

He nodded though his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. “I-I can’t stop it.”

“Have you done the method yet?” He shook his head. “Okay,” she continued, throwing her cigarette to the side before fully sitting down in front of him cross legged. “Let’s go through it, yeah?”

“Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break. Don’t worry about that, let’s help you okay? Name five things you can see.”

“O-okay…” he said, taking a deep breath. “Um, my shoes, those plants ... .uh the-the ground. I can see the wall and- your eyes. Shit- sorry that was weird,” he said, curling back into the wall.

“No, don’t apologize,” she told him, reaching out her hand to cover his. “Describe them to me. What do my eyes look like?”

He looked up at her - there was no hint of mockery in her face. “Well, they're vibrant, they’re a couple of different shades…they're beautiful.”

She smiled at him, not disgusted or annoyed, but genuine happiness. She chuckled, dropping her head for a moment, thanks… Now, let’s continue…”

They listed more things, following the method. With each concentration, the hold on his heart loosened more and more. He couldn’t tell if the method was working or he just liked to be in her company. Whatever it was, it worked. 

As he listed off the taste of his meal, he felt like he could finally breathe. Sighing, he let his back hit the wall. 

“Thanks for that,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the pads of her fingers gently rubbing his hand.

She responded, not letting go. “Of course, we have to look out for each other.” In the distance, someone called her name. “Shit, my break is over. You think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Slowly she stood back up. “I uh, guess I’ll see you this weekend.” She gave a small wave, not waiting for a response as she scurried back inside for the remainder of her shift. 

As he watched her walk away, he felt the urge to call her back. Her presence, the way she calmed him down - it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. Begrudgingly, he stood up, knowing that his friends would be wondering where he was soon. He walked through the same back door, passing the bathroom before finding his friends still in the diner booth.

Robin spotted him first as he made his way over - it seemed like the others barely even noticed his absence. “Are you okay? You look pale,” she asked. 

Usually he would lie, say he was fine and tough through his emotions. But as Dr. Ackerman and later Robin told him, he needed to be more honest with his well being.

“I don’t think so. Could we skip the ice cream run tonight?”

“Of course, yeah. Let’s get going, I already paid for the food.” She turned to the kids. “Alright, let’s get you guys home.”

“What about ice cream?” Dustin asked, followed by overlapping replies from the rest of the kids.

“Not tonight. Maybe next week.”

With solemn looks on their faces, the kids slowly climbed out of the diner booth, ready to pile back into the car. Steve watched as Robin unlocked the door, letting them all climb in. While doing so, he turned back, hoping to catch Y/N one more time.

She emerged from the back with two plates of food, locking eyes with him. She gave him a smile and he already felt a million times better. Nodding at her with a grin, she knew he meant it as a thank you.

Turning around, he made his way to the car, hoping that another attack wouldn’t happen when she wasn’t there.

For the first time since starting therapy, Steve Harrington could say he was satisfied with his progress. He had another panic attack later that week and was able to not only realize the source of it, but calm himself down in record time. Well, record time for him, at least. 

Leaving Dr. Ackerman’s office, he waved goodbye to the other patients before making a b-line to the bathrooms. His bladder was not happy about the wait.  After relieving himself, he opened the door to leave. 

“Do you usually hang out with that many kids?”

“Gah!” Steve jumped, not knowing that Y/N was standing outside smoking a cigarette like she was usually seen. “Jeez, you scared me.”

He began to walk to the building exit, her joining at his side. “Sorry, but you gotta answer the question, Harrington. It’s been bugging me since I saw you.”

Pushing open the exit doors, he said, “Uh they’re my friends so, yeah I usually hang out with them.” 

“But children?”

“They aren’t random children, okay? But yeah, they're who I’m close with,” he shrugged. “Probably my only friends if I’m being honest.”

“Huh…” Y/N replied, taking a long drag of her cig. “That’s fucking weird, Harrington. Did you and your girlfriend adopt them or something?”

He cocked his head. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Buckley... Sorry, I just assumed-”

“Oh,” he replied with realization. “Buckley, no we’re just friends. She’s practically my sister.” 

“Oh okay, cool.” She took another puff.

“Do you ever think about quitting? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Yeah well, what else do I have to do?”

“Go out with me?” She turned sharply to glare at him, her eyes going wide. “Not like go out with me. Shit, I said that wrong- Hangout. I meant hangout with me. As friends!”

She still looked frozen, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. Was that happiness? Distast? Maybe she didn’t want to try being friends with him.

“I wanna see you outside of therapy and your work ya know?” he explained, trying not to dig himself into a deeper hole. “To not listen to Matt re-explain every class he has. I mean like, we’re not the ones in school.”

She laughed at that, probably understanding what he meant. Next to them, a car pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t Robin. 

“That’s my dad,” she responded softly, walking over to the car. She turned to open the passenger door but paused and looked back at him. “Meet me at the Hideout at 7? Saturday?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’ll be there.”

She gave him one last look before climbing into the car, driving away. The smile was still plastered on Steve’s face and he couldn’t help but think that this friendship was the beginning of his new life. One where the Upside Down didn’t haunt his dreams, or where he didn’t fight any demogorgons. One where he could leave that all behind. 

The Hideout. It sounded familiar but Steve couldn’t place why he knew it. Even as he walked into the place, he knew he had never been there before. 

It was very grungy. The floors looked like they needed a deep cleaning and the walls were covered head to toe in band posters. A bar sat on the left side of the room, perfectly out of the way of the stage on the back wall. 

Walking in, Steve opted to stand next to a high table, no chairs in sight. He figured it was just a place for people to set down their drinks. Alcohol, however, did not feel the right call. He wanted to stay alert for his first hangout with Y/N. 

As his eyes drifted across the stage, he watched a band set up their equipment. There were only four of them. A drummer, bassist, guitarist, and a rhythm guitarist. It was probably some local band he had never heard of - he didn’t really keep up with current music.

But as he looked closer, he realized that they were familiar. The guy on rhythm guitar, he had seen him before. A math class? Was that it? Slowly, it started to come to him.

This was Eddie’s band.

The room felt like it became a million times hotter as Steve began to sweat. His heart thumping faster than normal. He needed to stay calm, he needed to control his panic. 

Since Eddie died, he tried to stay away from all things related to the guy. Instead of sitting in on the last few minutes of Dustin’s dnd games, he’d wait in the car. Instead of surfing any radio channel, he made sure to skip the metal station. But there was no skipping tonight.

He recognized three of the members but there was one that was new. He had shorter hair, a lanky build and a tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his t-shirt. He didn’t look familiar - not someone he went to school with. But then it dawned on him.

He was Eddie’s replacement. Before he even had time to process that information, he felt a small hand on his back, a presence next to him. 

“Hey, you made it,” Y/N said with a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

“W-whata- what…” It was like he couldn’t speak, the image of Eddie’s band moving on without him still in his mind. “W-why did you bring me here?” he finally got out.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “To see Corroded Coffin?” she responded, not really understanding what he meant. “I thought it would be fun, my brother said they’re playing a new song tonight.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Brother?”

“Yeah… Gareth? On the drums? I thought you remembered.” 

No, he didn’t remember. He turned back to the band setting up. Gareth was putting down the hi-hat to complete his drum set. 

Trying to stay calm, he said, “Oh cool…did uh, did you know Eddie too?”

Her face dropped slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I did. He was a good guy.” All he could do was nod, taking a deep breath in. He felt her arm wrap around his. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m sorry I should’ve told you why we were here.”

“No it’s okay. It’s like exposure therapy.”

She chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure.”

It didn’t take long for them to start, the music blaring out of speakers that were too loud for the room they were in. The new guy, in place of Eddie, was singing and Steve had to admit it wasn’t bad. His heart still ached at the thought of the band having to replace their star singer. They all looked like really close friends back in school. 

They played a couple songs, and Y/N pointed out the new one that her brother had mentioned. It was good, or better than he would have thought. Steve didn’t know how much he actually liked metal music but if he had to listen to any it would be this. 

But he wasn’t really focused on the music, more of the person standing next to him. He tried not to stare but she was so memorizing. Singing along to the songs she knew, bobbing her head to the ones she didn’t. It was nice seeing her outside the context of therapy. He also wasn’t complaining that her arm was still wrapped around his for a majority of the night.

As the new lead singer thanked the small crowd, leaving as they cheered, Steve felt Y/N tug his arm.

“Come on, let’s go say hello,” she said, pulling him through the crowd.

“S-say hello?” he asked. “Like to the band?”

“Duh,” she replied, waving at a bouncer guarding the backstage door. “We aren’t gonna see my brother perform and then leave.”

The corridor backstage was busier than he thought it would be. The bar was small but it sure didn’t feel like that. People were walking up and down, some running like it was Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t tell who worked there, performed, or were just groupies stopping by. 

Turning right, they were met face to face with the green room, a written sign saying Corroded Coffin taped to the door. Y/N smiled at him before she reached for the handle, turning it to reveal a very hectic room.

The band members were just chatting but it sounded like shouting. It all halted when they walked in. 

“Y/N!” Garrett exclaimed, running over to hug her.

“You did great tonight, honestly all of you did,” she told him.

“And the new song?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

Garret turned to look at Steve, his expression changing to something of confusion. “What is he doing here?”

“You brought Steve Harrington?” Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, chimed in.

Y/N turned to look at Steve confused. “I thought you said you knew Eddie?” 

“I-I did,” he told her, suddenly aware of how many eyes were staring at him. He looked around the room quickly before back at her. “I- just not with his usual crowd…”

The band continued to give him a blank stare.

“I know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? I know you used to play dnd together,” he added.

Grant, the bassist, crossed his arms. “You know Henderson?” he asked. 

Steve nodded. “He’s like a little brother to me.”

They stared in silence at him and what was probably five seconds felt like eternity. It wasn’t until Jeff shrugged and spoke up that Steve realized his heart rate was quickening. 

“I guess you're okay then,” Jeff said, “As long as you don’t try to shove us into lockers.”

If Jeff didn’t chuckled he would have if he was serious. His laugh rippled throughout the room, breaking the tension and it was like life started again. Joints were lit, drinks were poured, and Steve’s past was left forgotten.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked. He walked next to Y/N in the cold, night air, the only sound audible coming from the shuffling of their shoes. 

“Sure,” she said, reaching into her pocket to grab a cigarette.

“That first time we talked, like at Dr Ackerman’s…you mentioned someone named Gary.” He felt her stiffen next to him, a slight stutter in her step. “Who was he?”

Dropping her head to the unlit cigarette, she decided to shove it back into her pocket. He instantly regretted asking. 

Apologizing, he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay…” she waved off. “Exposure therapy, right?” she said, repeating his words from earlier in the night, letting him know it was okay. “Gary was my neighbor in my freshman year dorms. We hit it off really quick and started to date.”

She looked at the ground as she talked, hands shoved into her pockets. Steve however, couldn’t take his gaze off her. 

“He was fine, uh, a good boyfriend. Well, at first…” she took a pause, almost long enough that he was thinking he should say something.

Luckily, she continued. “He stumbled into my room really drunk one night…tried to take advantage of me.” She shrugged, actually shrugged, like what she just told him was nothing. “I pushed him off me and he went blabbing to everyone that I was an attention seeking whore. All my friends stopped talking to me, even my roommate…and the administration wouldn’t do anything about it even though he, you know…”

She trailed off as she kicked a rock with her shoe and Steve could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. How could someone, anyone, do that sort of thing? Not even when he was considered King Steve would he force himself onto a girl. 

Y/N sighed. “It was like high school was repeating itself, you know? I didn’t get to have my fresh start.”

He nodded, trying to understand what she went through. They never ran in the same circles in high school, but it was hard not to hear the rumors going around about who she was sleeping with. He assumed Billy was the one to start them and let it be. Looking back, he wished he had stood up for her. 

“It sucks,” he began warily, not knowing if it was okay to speak. When she looked up at him, it gave him the courage to continue. “When other people decide who they think you are. I-I mean, I didn’t go through that but I do have problems with the way people perceive me, my reputation.”

“I-I mean that’s when all my panic attacks started I just- I couldn’t stay there. It’s so stupid…”

“It’s not!” Steve reassured her. “Not stupid in the slightest. I would have left too if it were me. I mean, I didn’t even get into college. There was nowhere for me to run.” The more he began to speak of his own problems, the more anxious he became. “Not that what I went through was worse than you, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn the conversation on to me-”

“-No, Steve, it’s okay. I get it, you’re just trying to relate to me.” He nodded - it was like she took the words right out of his mouth. “Could we go back to yours? If I remember those high school parties correctly, you have a pool.”

“Sure. Y-yeah cool,” he blubbered. He couldn’t remember the last time talking to a girl made him anxious like this. Trying to catch his cool, they headed toward Loch Nora. 

“The back door should be unlocked,” Steve informed Y/N as they approached his house. 

It wasn’t a far walk from the bus stop they got off on and he could still see his car parked in the driveway - but only his car. Robin had told him ahead of time that she was going to sleep at her own home for once that week - her parents wanting to see more of her.

“Wow, it’s exactly how I remembered it,” Y/N commented as he opened the back gate.

He looked back at her. “You remember what my house looks like?”

Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I went to a couple of your parties.” The pool’s lights illuminated the otherwise dark backyard, steam rising from its surface. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

Without warning, Y/N pulled her shirt off, moving to pull down her pants. Steve’s eyes went wide, turning around to give her privacy. “What are you doing?”

“Getting in your pool? I don’t know about you, Harrington, but I don’t carry a bathing suit with me.”

“I guess…” Steve said, suddenly unsure of their plan. 

It was just like a bikini right? Only it felt so much more intimate. He heard a splash from behind him, a gasp as she rose to the surface for air. 

“You coming in?”

Slowly he turned around facing her as she grazed her hands over the surface of the water. She looked so majestic with her hair slicked back. He felt like deer in headlights as he looked at her. He could go inside, grab one of the many swimming trunks he had in his closet. But instead, he opted to strip down to his boxers, leveling the playing field. 

He could tell she was surprised, not thinking he would do the same thing as her. But nonetheless he jumped right in. The splash completely covered her but she didn’t seem to mind, already dunking her head moments before. When he rose to the surface, he inhaled deeply. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping water from her eyes. 

“You were already wet!” He retorted.

Without warning, she lunged herself at him. Steve felt as she collided with his chest, sending him falling back into the water, taking her with him. He barely had enough time to breathe before he felt himself submerged back under the surface. On instinct, an arm wrapped around her midsection, balancing her against him as he used his legs to push them back up for air.

Breaking the surface tension, he felt Y/N cling to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to balance against his bent knee. They were both gasping for air, taking a moment to recover. But the moment she looked up at him, those beautiful eyes he stared into at the diner, it was like a damn broke. 

She smiled, letting out a giggle and he too couldn’t keep a straight face. As her face buried in his neck he asked, “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, it looked like you needed to have fun,” she responded. 

“So you pushed me.”

Y/N lifted her head from his neck, her hands still around his neck. “You’re a very pushable person.”

“Oh am I?”

“Definitely.” She giggled, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I could stay like this forever.”

Steve smiled, his cheeks getting warmer. “Me too. It’s like a little pocket out of time. We don’t have to think about the future.”

“Or the past…” She was silent for a second, her fingers still moving and Steve tried his best to stay still. A beautiful girl was practically sitting on his lap and he was trying to hard to not fuck it up. 

“That first session, you talked about all the loss you’ve been around. Is there a reason for that?”

“Interdimensional monsters,” he blurted out. It felt good to say the truth even if it was met with a laugh. Who would believe in another dimension anyway?

“Fine don’t tell me,” she said, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. 

The cool touch of her fingers spread across him, down through his chest. It was hard to stop thinking about how little fabric separated them, especially with the way her fingers grazed his skin.

For a moment he almost swore she looked down at his lips. “I bet…” she began, tilting her head back to show her thinking. “That you have daddy issues.”

“Who doesn’t?”

She giggled, her forehead tipping forward, almost touching his. A piece of hair fell across her face and without thinking he reached up to brush it away. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting as he softly pushed the strand behind her ear. 

This time, he knew for certain, she had looked at his lips, right after he did the same.

The little space left between them closed as Y/N leaned forward, capturing his mouth. It was softer than he would had thought. Her rough exterior not matching her tender touch. He felt her arms wrap back around him, fingers gripping his hair. He let out a moan, tightening the grip he had on her waist.

She pulled back for a moment, only to tilt her head to the other side, her lips crashing back down on his. A small whimper let out from her mouth and Steve felt like he died and went to heaven. He wanted to hear it again, to be the only one that made her sound that way. It was intoxicating, like a vampire thirsting for blood. 

He let his kisses trail down her cheek, reattaching himself to her throat. She moaned even louder and he never wanted to let go. 

“That feels nice,” she said, breathlessly. The grip on his hair grew tighter but he didn’t mind. She could poke, pull, or prod, any part of him and he would let her.

“You feel nice.”

Without meaning too, she pressed down on his lap. And even through their underwear and the water of the pool, Steve felt ecstatic. He detached himself from her neck gasping at the pressure. 

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured to himself but it might have been louder than he expected. 

Y/N looked up at him with a smile. But as her eyes found his, Steve was confused as to why it started to vanish. Detaching herself from him, he watched as she floated away until her back hit the pool wall. 

Something was wrong, he just knew it. Was it something he did or said? Was it the kiss?

“I should probably go,” she told him, pulling herself out of the pool. 

“Oh,” he said in surprise. Why the rush to leave so quickly? “Okay…”

As he joined her by the lounging chairs, he watched as she tried to put a leg through her pants. 

“Wait,” he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before straightening her back. “Don’t put your clothes over your wet ones.”

“How else would I-“

He interrupted her, knowing if he didn’t say what was in his mind he’d lose the courage to say it. 

“-you can stay. Like, stay over?”

Why was he this nervous? He had plenty of girls over before. But with her, things felt different. Y/N raised her eyebrows at his comment. 

“If you want to,” he rushed out to say. “You could take a shower, I could dry your clothes and-“

“Okay,” she spoke over him. 

It felt like all the air left his body. “Yeah?” He asked again for reassurance. Slowly she nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay yeah. Cool, um…this way.”

Steve’s hands twitched nervously as he sat on his bed. Y/N was in the shower, due to come out any minute. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a girl over before. Just that the last person to sleep in his bed broke his heart. They had shared a space, gotten warm together under his blankets, baked in the morning sun. It held more meaning to him than he realized before.

As he clutched his hands, trying to calm himself down, the door creaked open. He looked up, watching as Y/N hesitantly peered in. As soon as he saw her face, it was like there was a calm that washed over him. The idea of having someone sleep in his bed filled him with anxiety, but when he saw Y/N it all faded away. He wanted her next to him, he wanted to share his space with her. 

Closing the door behind her, Y/N stood awkwardly across the room. But Steve couldn’t help but smile. She looked so cute in his clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin in ways that left little to the imagination. 

“I left the towel in the laundry room,” she said. “I hope that was okay.” 

“Yeah,” he said quickly, being pulled from his thoughts. “Yup that’s okay. I already started the load on drying your clothes.” 

“Cool,” she said, intertwining her fingers in front of her. 

Steve motioned to his bed. “Do you prefer a side or-”

She shook her head. “Nope. I-I’m fine with either.”

Steve hummed an agreement, moving to take the ride side of the bed. He watched her join on the other side as he pushed the covers back. They both had romantic experiences; both sleeping with someone else in their bed. But in the moment, it felt like they were little kids again.

Steve carefully covered both of them, sinking back down into his mattress. He tried not to touch her, to give her space after what happened in the pool. And with her past, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Starting at the ceiling he heard Y/N sigh. Turning his head he could see her covering her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to face her. “D-do you want to sleep in my parents room? They’re not home-”

“No, this is perfectly fine just,” she dropped her hands onto her chest as she stared up, not meeting his gaze. He could see her eyes getting watery, a tear on the verge of falling. “I-I don’t wanna do anything with you like- sexually. And I’m sorry if that’s blunt but after everything with Gary-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her to try and show her this was a safe space. “I wasn’t expecting to, honestly.”

She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, not convinced. 

“Really,” he replied. “I haven’t really been the same since Nance and I broke up and- nevermind it’s not important. I could leave if this is too much.”

“No I want you here I really do I’m just…confused. I don’t know.” 

She buried her head in her hands again, probably to stop him from seeing her start to cry. Steve ached for her. To see her like this, to know that this was the fault of another person. That a person could do that to someone else. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her, moving the comforter aside. “That way we won’t be alone but we can have our space.”

She looked back at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “No, I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor in your own room.”

“It’s nothing really,” he dismissed, grabbing his pillow and a spare blanket that was thrown across his desk chair. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a rugged floor.”

“If I wasn’t a mess right now I’d ask you to elaborate.”

He fluffed his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Y/N peered over the bed, still unsure of the sleeping arrangement though he could tell it was putting her more at ease. 

“A conversation for another time,” he said and he swore he could see a smile on his face.

“Okay,” she said softly, her head disappearing as she laid back down on the bed. 

There was silence for a moment and Steve thought that she had fallen asleep. But her soft voice glided through the air. 

“Steve?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

There was another beat. Another moment of silence before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

Even on the floor of his room, the sun found a way to shine on his face. The warm light slowly woke him up, making him rub his eyes in an attempt to not blind himself. He almost forgot he was on the floor of his room until he rolled over to open his nightside drawer, feeling his hand brush against the floor instead. 

As his eyes came into focus, he willed himself to sit up. Why was he on the floor again? Right, Y/N. Beautiful Y/N who should be asleep on his bed. But as he leaned his head up to see over the edge of the mattress, he was met with an empty bed. The covers were made neatly, all pillows back in place, as if no one had even slept there the night before. 

Steve rubbed his eyes, like if he cleared himself from his sleepy haze she would materialize in his room. But as his eyes began to focus again, he found he was still alone. Grunting, he stood up, pulling the pillow and blanket he had used with him. He looked around the room and it seemed that nothing was out of place.

Did he imagine last night? Did he feel so alone that he willed himself to believe that Y/N actually slept over? His eyes continued to scan for anything out of place, a breath of relief when they landed on his dresser.

The clothes he had lent her were neatly stacked on his desk and if he had to guess, her drying clothes in the laundry room would be gone. So he hadn’t imagined it. What happened? Why was she in such a rush to leave?

Maybe she regretted the night before, thinking he hadn’t changed since his days at King Steve. Perhaps the kiss was too much and she regretted it. Steve’s mind spiraled down a dark hole he knew too well. If he didn’t stop now, he would trigger another panic attack.

Taking a moment before getting ready for the day, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. He just needed to breathe. In and out, in and out. Over and over again he focused on his breath, letting all his energy go into calming himself down.

He needed to talk to Y/N. To clarify everything from last night before it ate away at him. 

Steve drove himself to therapy the following week. Partly because Robin was still back at her parents, and partly because he needed more time to think. As the time of the group session approached, he felt his heart rate begin to rise. His thoughts raced faster than they did when he woke up to find her gone.

He just needed to get there. Seeing her would calm him, reassure him that he didn’t fuck up. But as he parked his car and raced inside, he was saddened to find that she wasn’t there. Maybe she was just late. She had been late in the past, it was logical to assume she could be late today. 

Matt and Sam had tried to talk to him but he only politely nodded as they spoke. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Like lifting it to speak would only result in incoherent babbling. Thankfully, Dr. Ackerman’s presence let him stay silent. 

The session began and Steve found himself staring at the door. He nodded, giving short answers when required but his attention was still trained on the closed door. She had to walk through the door. To join their weekly sessions. But as the topic drifted from one person to another, Y/N never arrived. 

Steve was quick to leave, rushing to the parking lot to see if she had missed the session and was just arriving. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. Not even a lingering smell of cigarettes in the air from her usual smoking spot. 

He arrived early for the next session, and the next, and soon a whole month went by without her attending. Every session his eyes stayed on the door, willing her to walk through. Maybe if he was like Eleven, telepathically gifted, he could find out where she was. No, he thought. Even with those powers, it would be an invasion of privacy. And he didn’t want to be where he wasn’t welcomed. 

Robin had been spending more and more time with her parents to figure out packing for the fall semester so Steve had been driving himself more often in Y/N’s absence.

Another missed therapy session had him driving home in silence, not even the radio playing to fill the void. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an irregular pattern as he turned onto his street. Slowly, his house came into view and he could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the front steps. 

That’s weird, he thought to himself. Robin had a key, most people in the party did for emergencies. So why was she waiting outside?

As he pulled closer, almost fully into the driveway, his eyes adjusted. It wasn’t Robin, or anyone he had fought monsters with. It was Y/N. 

Y/N, smoking a cigarette as she patiently waited for him to come home. He felt himself falter, his foot almost slamming on the brakes. She was here, more beautiful than the last time he saw her – though it was pretty hard for her to look anything but perfect. 

The engine revved as he pulled into the driveway, pulling Y/N’s attention to him. Quickly, she stood up, putting her cigarette out with the heel of her shoe. Steve felt glued to the inside of the car. Their eyes had met, not separating as he put in the car in park. All he wanted was to get out and speak to her. But something in his chest tightened. If she had been avoiding him for the past week, she had her reasons. And part of him didn’t want to know for certain he was the problem.

He tried to move, he truly did. But his anxiety was ruling over his brain and he didn’t know how to stop it. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to notice. Moving forward, she opened his passenger door and climbed in. He never took his eyes off her, even when she turned her back to close the door. 

Turning back to him, she weakly said, “Hey.”

“H-hi,” he managed to blurt out. Silence hung in the air, as he figured out what to say. Y/N continued to speak. “Sorry to show up at your house, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” he blurted out. “Y-you’re never a bother.”

He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze never wavering. It didn’t break until Y/N looked down at her lap and he could have sworn he saw a small smile form on her lips. A moment passed, then two, and neither of them talked. 

Despite being uncomfortable with long silences, Steve didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel like his social battery drained when he was around her. If anything, she made him feel more alive. She knew what he was going through, one of the best kept secrets in his life and she knew. 

“I missed you,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.

“I’ve missed you too…Louise keeps talking about her one night stands and I don’t think I can take any more of it,” he said, gaining back some composure from earlier.

Y/N laughed, her shoulders hunching forward. She looked back up at him, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of his. As the smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes remained on his. It was clear she wanted to talk about what happened. Maybe she just needed a push.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?” Steve asked. 

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know it’s just – when I woke up in your room, my mind immediately went back to Gary.” She paused for a moment and he let her gather her thoughts. “I just went into a spiral like I did with him. Like did I force you to kiss me? Did you really want me sleeping in your bed or did I coerce you to? What would people think if they see the town whore sleeping with the former king of Hawkins High just – it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said immediately, reaching his hands out on the center console. He didn’t want to touch her without asking, but wanted to let her know he was there if she needed to. He sighed. 

“I didn’t expect to kiss you that night,” he continued. She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to. You in no way forced me to kiss you…and I was the one who wanted you to stay. I-I should’ve been more vocal so you didn’t feel forced to.”

Y/N nodded, leaning forward with her hands on the center console, not quite touching his. 

“If you want to keep seeing me, friend or something more, I promise I will walk you through everything thought in my head so we’re on the same page.”

She raised an eyebrow, some color coming back to her face. “Every thought?”

He nodded. “Oh for sure. Like how I’ve been craving a ham and cheese sandwich since I woke up this morning.” She giggled again at his obvious attempt to make her feel better. “And like how I’d really like to hold your hand right now.”

He stared at her in his car, the sun slowly setting outside, and felt the touch of her fingers against his. It felt like an immediate release, a tightness he didn’t know was there unfolding in his chest. 

“I would like to keep seeing you too,” she told him, and it was like his heart was doing a million leaps of joy. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now,”

“-and that is completely fine with me,” he reassured her quickly, feeling a tight squeeze of reassurance in his hand.

“Thank you for understanding. In the future, if I’m ready…I’d like to explore that possibility with you.”

Steve gave her a big grin, not trying to hide what he was feeling. “Good, uh, that’s good to know.”

They sat in his car, hands intertwined like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like their pasts and reputations didn’t haunt them like a shadow. For now, they had each other and that was all they could ask for. 

Steve didn’t need some fancy school or big corporate job. Just someone who understood him, who knew what it was like to feel the things he felt and not be judged. 

He was happy he finally found someone who did just that.

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen

[madeofthreads]

His teams final trial had been special. A VR test. The first time they had done that - and mastered it. Though it had felt so realistic. So disgusting. Glenn could've sworn he needed a shower afterwards from all the monster guts having splattered on him in VR.

But this new tech also was SO fascinating... of course Glenn wanted to show Leif. He practically dragged his brother into Shinra HQ on one of his visits to Midgar, not shutting up about this VR stuff. It was late evening, no one would mind.

Leading Leif into that training hall, Glenn was almost giddy.

"I swear, its insane, you just gotta look! It feels so real! They said they made the program up out of past missions that really happened!"

Scrolling through the computer, Glenn was surprised how many new missions he seemingly had unlocked with advancing in rank.

He picked the surroundings of Gongaga. The VR kicking in, creating trees and leaves out of nowhere. Thick, heavy warm wind in their faces. The roar of a monster that came charging through the undergrowth.

Glenn chuckled, changing to some other random mission.

The ice plains close to Icicle Inn. Snowflakes falling down, leaving little cold pinpricks on their skin. 'Exterminate 50 monsters within the time limit.' was the robotic announcement to this.

"Pretty cool, huh?", Glenn boasted, again switching to a random picked program.

The lightpanels changing, the snow stopped - instead making up their new surroundings. Rocks, Cliffs. A running river down below. A bridge spanning out in front of them. The air was thick and red dark with smoke and embers flying.

The heat of fire could be felt. There were voices. Screaming and shouting. Humans.

There immediately was an uneasy feeling. This was different from the former VR missions, where they had to fight monsters.

'Exterminate the terrorists and destroy their delivery paths.'

There was a small shrine by the bridge. Such an unimportant detail. But it clawed into Glenn's mind. Long past memories bubbling up, where he had stood on his tiptoes to reach to the small platform, fighting with Leif about who got to place a candle for save passage there. His eyes wandered from the shrine to the bridge. The metal structure like a skeleton in the dark. He... knew it in daylight, looking up. Using a branch to hit the metal posts and make noise. And beyond that... the towers of a village. He could hear the echoes of bells ringing, as Leif and he had run across a market place.

"That's..."

...where we had lived before Midgar....

There was a sense of unease being topside. Leif didn't outwardly show it, but he didn't much like the metal structures of Midgar, precisely why he bailed from the city as soon as he could afford a small plot in the grasslands. That had taken him years, while Glenn trained in the soldier program he scraped together every bit of gil that he could and shoved it into his savings.

Felt weird to be standing in his brother's place of occupation. He wasn't an extremist, but he didn't particularly buy what the Shinra company was selling. If a Shinra logo was stamped on something the price suddenly skyrocketed and the competition died out, and the way the media harped on about heroes and joining the cause for a war that wasn't worth fighting really didn't sit right. He left well enough alone and kept his dissatisfaction mostly to himself.

Hell, that had been the cause of most arguments between him and Glenn. They couldn't see eye-to-eye on it. Where his brother thought Shinra was the future, Leif saw them as the epitome of greed that had a chokehold on the common folk. He did his time in the filth of the slums. He saw enough.

Though he was old enough to swallow down his opinions. He knew how much this all meant to Glenn, and he had a feeling his brother was trying to win him over with this future tech. He went along with it all for Glenn's sake — not worth smashing their heads together or potentially shattering their bond, he'd try to keep an open mind.

Try.

"All this mako for make believe?" he mused, and when he shot a glance to Glenn he help up his hands out in a show of peace. "Alright, alright. Show me what you got."

He stood there with his hands on his hips. Watched their surroundings change to Gongaga. He glanced around. The same trees extended into the distance, copied over and over. The air in their face had a metallic edge to it, not the wet forest litter he'd expect. Head cocked, that monster's roar was... wrong. They really used the call of a Fonadu belonging to Junon.

He blinked and the environment changed again. Somewhere he hadn't been. The northern continent. Though he had a feeling it ought to feel a lot colder.

Leif hummed to his brother's question. Better to bite his tongue, he was supposed to be making an effort here.

Right as he started to try and loosen up for Glenn's sake, his stomach dropped. The hands at his hips slowly fell away and his entire expression and demeanour changed. It was a stone cold shock that froze him on the spot.

'Exterminate the terrorists and destroy their delivery paths.'

This was the iron islands. Some crude recreation of...

His stomach twisted, and slowly his shocked expression hardened. "What are you playing at?" he asked his brother lowly, with a barely controlled temper. "Why on Gaia— what is this??" Arms opened wide, he stepped around Glenn to gesture around. "Why the fuck is our home mapped out like a fucking game, Glenn?!"

In a moment of anger he shoved his brother back as if that would help anything at all, barely gave Glenn the time to respond. He paced towards that bridge with the same anger, a hand pushing his hair back harshly as he made long strides for the metal structure. "Don't you dare quit out of this!" he bellowed, already halfway across the bridge.

[themonsterunderthebed]

Ooookay let's go!

Love never dies

The Last Five Years (if you remember any of it)

Moulin Rouge

ALRIGHTY HERE WE GO. i'm not going in order because my thoughts on Love Never Dies will take up a ridiculous amount of this ask so we'll get the others out of the way first

the last five years: if i remember right, that's the one where the guy tells the story of their relationship backwards, and the woman tells it forwards? or the other way around, something like that. very clever premise, i don't remember being particularly wowed by any of the songs. it's a cool musical just not quite my style, though maybe i'll give it another try sometime

moulin rouge: what fun!!! love love love the movie. this ridiculous opulence is what musicals are about, baby. pull out all the fucking stops. i haven't watched a bootleg of the broadway revival but i like most of the soundtrack. i don't think they really needed to update the songs to more modern ones, i would've preferred they stick with the ones from the movie, but i get what they were trying to do and it's not inherently a bad idea. that clip from roxanne started off my strange period of obsession with aaron tveit, so shoutout to that. also has an incredible dance sequence somewhere in there, i forget which song it was (maybe also tango de roxanne?)

Love Never Dies: hooooooo boy time for some fucking Hot Takes. Okay. my feelings on LND are Bad. very very bad. this should not exist. Are we doing my whole rant on this? We might be doing my whole rant on this. Including actual capitalization and punctuation. I should disclaim here that I am doing 0 fact checking for this. We are going based entirely on my spotty memory and vibes.

There are several axioms we have to acknowledge to plumb the depths of my feelings on LND. 1. Frederick Forsyth is not a good author. 2. Phantom of Manhattan was batshit insane from start to finish. It would've killed as a crack fic on FFN that really committed to the bit. Unfortunately, it is not a crack fic on FFN. It is an actual published piece of fiction sold for actual money. Admittedly I haven't read it since I was fourteen or so, and my critical reading skills were not fully developed, but I have no reason to believe that it was written as a parody or satire. To the best of my knowledge, this horrifying dumpster fire mishmash of questionable phandom tropes (e.g., Raoul as an abusive alcoholic to make the Phantom better than him*, lovechild between Christine and the Phantom**), bizarre Phantom whump (fishmonger???? hello???????) and a plotline contrived enough to put 2009 FFN phics to shame was written seriously, and meant to be read as a serious piece of fiction. This is... somewhat distressing, honestly. 3. Tragically, ALW does know how to write really catchy music.

What I remember hearing back when LND was announced was that ALW and Frederick Forsyth are friends, and that's how this came about. I am doing no fact checking for this post so I cannot really confirm or deny this, but it is the best explanation of why on earth PoM was chosen as the base material for a completely unnecessary sequel. Of course the other major published phan work is Phantom by Susan Kay -- this would not be suitable sequel material, but could have given rise to a heartwrenching prequel. Phantom, frankly, doesn't need a sequel. It shouldn't have one. It's a tragedy, it's meant as a tragedy, and alleviating that is firmly the domain of fanworks. I have read countless fix-its and sequels and happy endings - I very much understand the urge! But trying to reverse the tragedy in the canon itself cheapens the story in its entirety. Phantom is a social commentary: what happens to an ugly genius (to what extent can we accept that which is different from us) , and what happens to someone forced to exist outside of society? What is a monster, and how does a person become one? What is the distinction between what we are and what we are made into? And where is the line between what is and isn't forgiveable? We're meant to be left to sit with those questions. Continuing the story instead weakens their impact. 

Of course, it can best be explained as a blatant money grab; we know ALW is not above that. And in that respect, I think it worked. Hooray, more money for ALW. And look - it has been a long time since I listened to any of the LND songs, but I know there are some good ones in there. Devil Take the Hindmost comes to mind as a catchy one. I'm taking a look at the tracklist now, and if I remember right, Till I Hear You Sing and Beneath a Moonless Sky might also have been good. But do any of these songs justify their rotting scaffolding? No! They do not!

The best part of LND is probably the casting. Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggess have chemistry out the fucking wazoo. They are fantastic Phantom-Christine pair. And if LND is what it took to get them to play opposite one another - well, I can't say whether or not it makes the whole thing worth it. But it is definitely one of the few bright spots.

TL;DR: LND is a completely unnecessary musical that should never have been brought into existence, based on a dumpster fire of a trash novel. It also had incredible casting and has some really good songs.

*thinking more about that, it probably says a lot that in order to make the Phantom the clear better choice, his rival has to undergo absolute character assassination to make him a caricature of a terrible husband. but I digress

**I think this might be from Kay but I don't fully remember. I don't think it's reasonable to assume from Leroux seeing as getting kissed on the forehead by Christine basically nearly kills Erik dead, though it's certainly a conversation one could have. I especially don't think it's reasonable based on the ALW musical, because -- literally when would this have happened. In the Final Lair scene, we have the lyrics "...am I now to be prey/to your lust for flesh?" "This face which condemns me to wallow in blood/has also denied me the joys of the flesh." It's up to interpretation whether this means the Phantom is a virgin or whether he's physically unable to have sex, but either way we can safely assume he and Christine have not had sex at that point. We see literally every second of the rest of their interactions right there on stage. There is no sex. Now this doesn't exclude the possibility that Christine goes back shortly after, and maybe this is specified in Phantom of Manhattan -- I don't remember. It strikes me as very very silly, though.

[corwynnasmith]

In honor of posting the first chapter of Put That Kid Down’s sequel, What You Wanted, I’m gonna give everyone what they never wanted.

Volatile, untested writing tips on making your murdery character sympathetic from an amateur! (These can also be used for making sympathetic villains, with or without murder, but I’m just going to focus here because my most morally screwed characters are usually the protagonists).

1. You can introduce the character in a non-murder, positive context. First impressions matter! Don’t start off a supposedly sympathetic character waist deep in entrails and gore. (Though you could pull that off with a joke, if you’re cool enough.) This could be through:

    1a. A #gooddeed. Help a child get a kite from a tree. Save a worm from drowning. Etc. This gives a positive impression of the character that can cause readers to forgive flaws more easily down the road. Like murder.

    1b. A relatable situation. Get stuck holding the door open for a whole line of people. Worry about what to get their never satisfied mother for mother’s day. Etc. This makes the character more human, less murder machine. People look for reasons in humans, and don’t immediately write them off just because they do terrible, terrible things.

    1c. A positive relationship & interaction. Pet the cat they take very good care of and call “Baby.” Hug a friend goodbye with a thanks for the advice. Etc. This is a Redeeming Connection that can make people look a bit harder at the character for explanation when they show their true colors, instead of shoving them in the murder box right off the bat. HOWEVER this one can backfire into making them seem more terrible if manipulation/deceit is the basis or SEEMS TO BE the basis of the relationship. (The Murder Beard Syndrome - ‘I’m not your ordinary serial killer because I have a real FRIEND’ becomes ‘they are definitely just a serial killer using that person for cover’ - so be careful).

    1d. Miscellaneous because I bet you can come up with more, am I right, folks?

2. You can give your character a plausible reason. Sure, we all want to occasionally write a rebel without a cause, but characters that murder for seemingly no reason can be a hard sell outside certain groups (know your audience lol). This can be:

    2a. An actual Good Reason. The people killed by your character are in a kill or be killed situation with no real alternative. Or they are infected with something that cannot be cured (coughzombiescough). Or they are being forced to by an outside power. Or it’s a mercy kill, even. Etc.

    2b. A seemingly good reason. This reason can be explained. It may not be the best option or the most moral option (or even a moral option at all), but it has weight. For example, killing prisoners of war. This is not good morally, but from a utilitarian standpoint, can be explained. Revenge schemes also follow this viewpoint - taking vengeance can be explained, even if it’s morally iffy to bad.

    2c. A bad reason. I know I just said MAKE IT PLAUSIBLE. I know I just said that. But hear me out. This works best when combined with (3) below, and is seen in the popular show Dexter. Your character wants to murder people for a reason, but it’s a bad reason and they should feel bad.* For example, they crave something about the murder, like it relieves a stress or gives them a sense of control. This could even be the character that just finds killing fun, though that is a thin line to tread. Maybe your character can’t stand rudeness or hears certain people’s life force like a thin, high pitched noise and is just trying to make it quiet (though that is almost 2b). So many bad reasons out there. Run free.

*Feeling bad is not actually a requirement. See Dexter again, in the beginning.

3. Give your character a code. This doesn’t have to be a moral code, but the closer it fits to the popular sense of morality, the more sympathetic your character will be. This lends itself well to vigilante killers, which tend to hover between 2b and 2c regarding motivation.

4. Remember your character needs a life outside killing / doing terrible things. In order for anyone to have a fully fleshed character, there needs to be depth. Hobbies, jobs, dreams, fears, goals that aren’t necessarily geared towards (in this case) murder. A past and a future. Relationships, good and bad. Of course, throwing in random tangents to your plot could through your readers for a loop, so it’s best to work these things in as actual plot elements. For example...

    4a. Introductions. Does your character need to meet someone plot relevant? Have them attend the same sewing circle - you know, the one they joined because they didn’t want the skills passed on by their beloved elder to go to waste! The same business meeting where you reveal your character’s work ethic / passion for their job! Speed dating to show your character’s desire for love! Etc.

    4b. Complications.** It isn’t a story if your character never struggles! Introduce a relationship as a barrier to getting terrible things done due to obligations, hilarious and inconvenient timing on the part of the loved or hated one, or simply scheduling problems where your character’s calendar is #toofullforcrime. Maybe tear your character between two conflicting goals, the first being your murder-adjacent plot and the second being a passion for a hobby/job/relationship/etc. Have fun with it! Torment them!

    4c. Facilitations!** Sometimes, things go right! Maybe your character needs to infiltrate an organization, so they use their skills gained from a certain hobby or past employment to ingratiate themselves with the target organization! Every hobby has a potential application in murder and villainy if you just try hard enough.

**If you use a hobby, job, relationship, etc. as a facilitation or complication, it is best to have it be mentioned briefly as part of a daily/weekly routine, or during the plot’s “downtime” before having it spring out of the box in its True Form as a plot element. This makes the story seem planned ahead gasp. However, having it spring out of the ether can be a good reveal for it if you’re aiming for comedy or shock value.

5. Judge your audience’s Taboo Level / know your audience. Or choose your own Taboo Level. Draw a line somewhere. This is not a line your character has chosen, or will mention, or even knows about. These are just actions your character will not be doing in the story. Some Evil Deeds are instant death for a character’s sympathy standings, based on your audience’s values. Some almost universal ones*** are:

    5a. Betraying the Connection to Humanity. Unless your story is about descent into madness / darkness specifically, your character taking the very thing that made everyone sympathetic to them and murdering/destroying/giving up on it can be Very Bad without a strong redemption arc planned. (If it is about the descent, then this is the turning point that makes your story lol) This can be played off as Very Dramatic instead if it’s for a good reason / seemingly good reason. Popular ones would be: 

For Your Own Good

Because I Don’t Deserve You

The Connection is Actually Evil

The Connection is Accidentally Killing the Character

Etc.

    5b. You- you should be able to come up with this list on your own lol Please just know your audience and also your own limits. And whether or not you’re willing to take the chance the behavior might be normalized by your depiction, too.

6. Emotions are important. What your character is thinking and feeling and telling themselves about what they’re doing are key to sympathy. If the POV permits, you can have some thoughts and feelings floating around, but it’s best to show it. Let your audience sleuth out the truth through your character’s body language, actions, word choice, tone, etc. You can, of course, explain the cues as you give them, like a nervous fidget or an impatient glance. If your readers can’t understand your character, ever, they will not empathize. They will not care. Don’t just have a string of actions one after the other - let your character react.

7. Have fun with it. If you don’t like what you’re writing, chances are your readers won’t, either. I know writing itself is hard and arduous, so maybe you won’t have fun with the actual writing, but the end story should be something you want to read. You can keep these tips in mind or throw them out the window as long as you’re writing for yourself. (But Cor, you JUST SAID- yes, keep your audience in mind for readability/understanding/values, but when it come to the actual story and its characters - those are yours).

Keep writing!