#at least for me it feels like the point of focus and loop feels different

[coolgoodandfine]

lol lmao even. thinking about last year's resolution. i did spend over a week in a row doing drawings that i finished, but then i just... didn't post them? even though i planned on doing it? ah well. technically a fail, but i'm really not upset about it.

this year is the year of the gamer. i'm aiming to play at least one new game every month. maybe i'll post about it too, but idk.

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[hell-is-not-an-excuse]

Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts

Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.

Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.

The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.

This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".

These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing

I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.

Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).

I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.

There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.

Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.

Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.

Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?

While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.

Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.

Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.

I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.

The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).

The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.

Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.

What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.

Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.

The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 20

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | AO3

-----

Robin and Steve shower together the next morning.

And that's - fine, it's fine.

He was right about Steve being a resourceful guy, it seems, because he can faintly hear the sound of smacking and giggling and an oh my God before he finishes getting dressed and books it out of Steve's bedroom. He doesn't have to feel guilty about preventing them from their celebratory activities anymore, at least, and he just -

He just won't think about it.

It doesn't matter what he wants, or what he thinks he might be able to have. It matters that he wants to be in this party, that he wants to keep Steve and Robin, and you can't have two romantic soulmates, it's just not -

"What?" he mutters viciously to himself. "It's just not done? When have you ever cared about that?"

When it comes to this, apparently. Maybe you can have two romantic soulmates, maybe Steve wouldn't mind, but Eddie, well. Eddie can't, and there's too many other things he needs to deal with right now to be able to focus on figuring out what the gut feeling that it'd be a disaster really means.

He gets coffee started for them instead, makes himself a bowl of oatmeal, and his knee is only bouncing in agitation a little when Steve and Robin come down to the kitchen.

Steve notices it immediately, because of course he does. "You worried about telling your uncle?"

Eddie grimaces. "Worried about a lot of things right now, man, it's getting to be kind of a list."

Steve tips his head. "Eh, fair."

Robin hums as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Want to talk about it?"

He opens his mouth to immediately decline, then pauses, actually considering that. No way in hell is he going to try to process anything related to their soulmate arrangement with them, but… everything else? Yeah, he could actually see that.

"Not right now," he says finally. "I'm gonna have enough talking to do with Uncle Wayne later."

They don't push him. Instead, they eat breakfast together, with Robin's foot pressed up against his and Steve's hand on his knee. He kind of wants to say something about it, but he doesn't know whether what comes out of his mouth will be a thank you or a joke to try to brush it off, and he's honestly not sure he wants to draw attention to it.

Eddie's always been all easy, casual physical contact, hands gripping shoulders and arms slung around his friends and playful shoves or nudges, but this is -

This isn't loud and boisterous and purposefully over the top, this is quiet and sincere and done almost on instinct.

It's strange, how different it feels.

And how much it works to calm him down, despite both of them being the source of one of his swirls of chaotic thoughts.

After breakfast, Robin hugs him goodbye and they head out. Steve's going to pick Dustin up, drop Robin off at the high school, and then hopefully come back with Uncle Wayne. The rest of the hoard is making themselves scarce today, so Eddie doesn't have an audience for seeing his uncle again.

He'd been a little surprised that there wasn't an argument about looping his uncle in, but Nancy had pointed out that if they didn't tell him something soon, his insistence on putting up missing person fliers was likely to put some kind of pressure on the police to pursue Eddie's case more.

Eddie'd been all for not having a gaggle of teenagers around for this before, but now that he's alone, just waiting - look, he might not want an audience when he has to ask his uncle if he hates him now, but he kind of wants one in the leading up to it so he doesn't have to keep thinking about all the different possible ways this is going to go.

Logically, he knows that Uncle Wayne isn't going to hate him. He stopped doubting the love his uncle had for him a long time ago. Jesus knows Eddie's tested him in so many ways since then, but it's never been this.

It's never been a dead girl in their living room, and Eddie no where to be found.

Even if he doesn't think Eddie did it - Eddie still just left, just left him to deal with all of that, and then he went back and helped destroy their home a little more, made sure it was really uninhabitable.

He wouldn't blame his uncle for having some misgivings about everything, about him.

Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when he hears the unmistakable sound of his uncle's truck. It's a sound he's heard almost every day since he was twelve, usually when he was blearily shoving cereal into his mouth or burrowing deeper in his blankets to steal just a little bit more sleep. It's always been accompanied by the crunch of gravel, first under the tires and then from Uncle Wayne's footsteps, and hearing it pull smoothly into the Harrington driveway now feels almost as otherworldly as that first trip into the Upside Down.

He's been in a little bit of a bubble, here. He doesn't feel like he's being overly dramatic when he thinks that the last time he heard his uncle's truck, he was a different person than he is now, and those two lives colliding is kind of a head trip.

His hands are trembling a little, and he stands up partly just for something to do, something other than sit there.

What if this is it? What if this is finally the thing that's too much, what if Eddie finally went too far, after all these years? There's a lot of things that he knows his uncle has forgiven him for, but a murder charge is asking an awful lot, what if he -

His uncle comes into view.

Steve is saying something, and there's some kind of response from Dustin, but Eddie can't hear any of it.

"Hi Uncle Wayne," he manages to get out.

Uncle Wayne drops the boxes he'd been carrying. They must have been empty, because there's barely a sound as they hit the floor, but Eddie doesn't really care, because his uncle is striding across the room in long, purposeful steps. He's there between one breath and the next, strong arms wrapped around Eddie as he pulls him into the kind of hug he hasn't done since Eddie got too tall to be tucked in under his chin.

His uncle's breath hitches, and it hits him that he's crying, and oh, fuck, that does Eddie in completely. He clings to him, trying his best to stifle his own sobs, hearing them come out in little hiccuping gasps anyway.

"We'll, uh, just go start loading things," he hears Steve say, and he registers the sound of footsteps walking away and the garage door opening and closing, but it just makes him hold onto his uncle tighter.

Somehow, they find their way to the couch, and then Eddie does have to pull away. He's healing up nicely, but there isn't a good angle for him to stay in his uncle's hold for much longer without something hurting.

Uncle Wayne notices it, of course, and his eyes scan over Eddie as they sit down. Eddie watches him register the dark sweats, the gray sweatshirt - neither of which are his, obviously - then move back up to his face.

"Are you hurt?" Uncle Wayne asks.

"I'm healing up," Eddie replies. "It, uh. It's kind of a long story. And a pretty unbelievable one."

Uncle Wayne raises his eyebrows. "Son, they've been trying to tell me that you hurt that girl and those other kids. No matter what you have to tell me, it's never going to be more unbelievable than that."

Tears sting at Eddie's eyes again, and he has to look down to try to get himself under control enough that he can actually talk.

Then he tells him.

Not everything - there's a lot of stuff that happened before spring break that he still isn't super clear on, and some things that aren't his to tell, but he gets out the basics. Hawkins Lab doing shady things, how they've been behind the strange deaths and the mall burning down, the existence of the Upside Down, the real story behind the Creels, that it was Henry Creel behind the deaths. The NDAs that the party had to sign, how everything's been covered up. How the others found him hiding, looked after him, looped him into everything. Nancy's vision, their plan to stop it, how it only half worked. Steve getting injured, Steve getting the others to stand up for him at the town hall meeting, Steve carrying him out of the Upside Down, Steve having him stay here to recover and stay hidden - so much of Steve that he has to clamp his mouth closed when he catches himself, cheeks flushed.

Uncle Wayne looks at him for a long moment. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Eddie groans. There's no way his uncle doesn't already know, he clearly just wants to make Eddie say it. "Steve's my soulmate. Platonic soulmate," he adds quickly. "Steve's got two, and he's already found his romantic soulmate."

Uncle Wayne's brows draw down a little, like he's not sure if he should be concerned about that or not.

"It's okay," Eddie says without thinking, then has a brief moment of panic before he realizes it's not a lie. "It's okay," he says again. "I, uh. It's been good here. You know, apart from all the stitches and hiding from the police and not knowing if you were okay."

Uncle Wayne huffs out a disbelieving little laugh. "Oh, apart from that, huh?"

"Sorry about the trailer," Eddie says, very quietly.

"Oh, son," Uncle Wayne murmurs gruffly, reaching out to grip his shoulder and give him a gentle shake. "Now that I know you're okay, there's not a single thing in there that I can't afford to be without, all right?"

Eddie nods, afraid he'll sound too choked up if he says anything.

"I'm glad you're doing good here," Uncle Wayne says. "The fuss has died down, with the earthquake and all, but that Carver kid's got a small handful of diehards who're looking to stir up trouble."

Eddie grimaces. "Do me a favor and don't tell Steve that?"

His uncle raises one brow. "You trying to hide stuff from your soulmate?"

"It's not that I want to, it's just… Steve's protective. He's already saying that he won't claim his soulmate rights if I get found out before they work out a plan, that he'll go with me to prove I'm telling the truth."

Uncle Wayne frowns. "And you don't want him to?"

Eddie huffs out a laugh, dry and humorless. "I don't think the truth is going to matter to them much if they don't have someone else ready to blame them on, and I don't want Steve to go through that for nothing."

His uncle gives a thoughtful little hum. "You ask me, seems like Steve doesn't think it'd be for nothing."

Ugh, he should have known his uncle would be on Steve's side. He can't honestly say he minds, considering their side is the side that wants to get Eddie's name cleared, but still. "Yeah, well, like I said, Steve's just protective."

"Just protective." Uncle Wayne raises one eyebrow. "You gonna look me in the eye and tell me it ain't because that boy cares about you?"

Eddie can feel himself flushing almost immediately. Well, yeah. It's obvious Steve cares about him. They haven't dropped any kind of words about it yet - he doesn't think either of them are ready to actually say it, or to hear it - but Steve's actions kind of speak for themselves, and Eddie hopes that his own actions have done the same.

"No," Eddie admits. "I'm not going to tell you that."

He fiddles with the straps on his wrist brace, and his uncle - always able to figure out when there's something more going on - waits patiently.

"It's not my story to tell," Eddie says finally. "But Steve has been through a lot. He says it'd be fine, and I know he believes that, but - he also sat there with a straight face and told me he knows how to take a beating and keep going, and he'd rather it be him than any of us."

Surprise colors Uncle Wayne's expression for a moment, and then something in his eyes goes tight. Eddie recognizes that look. It's something like the one he'd gotten when he found out something that happened to Eddie - usually something that his dad taught him, or the handful of times his mom had gotten so drunk he'd had to watch over her in the bathroom, or the times he'd almost had a deal go bad. The things that his uncle's always said no kid should have to go through.

"This has been happening since 83," Eddie admits quietly. "They've all been dealing with this alone."

His uncle twists to look at the garage door for a long moment before turning back. "You call me if you get found," he says, more serious than Eddie's ever seen him. "You hear me? I'll be right there with the both of you."

Eddie swallows roughly, nodding.

"Promise me," Uncle Wayne insists. "No matter what it is, no matter what kind of thing happens - you call me. None of you are alone."

It takes Eddie a moment to get his voice back, but then he manages to get out, "I promise."

He'll have to talk it over with the others, of course, but he's pretty sure Steve and Robin are already on board, and he's got confidence that the three of them can convince the rest of the party.

Which is, admittedly, a little bit of a trip - that he's part of a monster hunting group now, that when he thinks about deciding as a party it's real. Ridiculously, that gets a little bit of a smile tugging at his lips.

Uncle Wayne looks closely at him. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"We're not alone anymore, either," he says, hears it come out almost shy, and makes a face at himself. "Just, uh. They've kind of decided I belong to them, and I'm not going to be the one to tell Nancy Wheeler or Erica Sinclair no, so."

"Good," his uncle says decisively, as if that's that, which -

Well.

Eddie guesses it is.

Uncle Wayne claps his hands on his knees, pushes himself up. "Let's see how those two have managed to get along."

He ambles over to the garage door, sticks his head out and calls for Steve to get on back in here.

There must be some kind of argument - Eddie can't hear it, but he's assuming there is, because somehow Steve manages to get Dustin to stay in the garage while he comes in alone.

Eddie stays where he is on the couch, trying to tell himself that there's no reason to be nervous. Steve'd talked to his uncle before, had managed to convince him to come to his house, but - that'd been before Uncle Wayne knew everything, knew they were soulmates.

It doesn't help that Steve's clearly a little nervous when he comes back in, too - or maybe he's picking up on Eddie's own nerves.

"So," Uncle Wayne says, looking Steve up and down. "You the one my nephew was always talking with?"

Eddie watches Steve's throat work as he swallows.

"Yes, sir," Steve says. And then he gets this look in his eyes - one that Eddie recognizes, that says he's terrified of what he's about to do but he's doing it anyway. "I'm the other little jackass with no impulse control."

Eddie lets out a squawk, the sound of which is drowned out by his uncle straight up guffawing, loud wheezing laughs that break the tension in the air.

Steve looks far too pleased with himself, even though his smile is this little tentative thing, so Eddie kicks out his foot to nudge Steve's ankle with his toes.

"I told you not to try to charm my uncle!" he protests.

"Charm me, huh?" Uncle Wanye asks, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who looks a little sheepish.

Uncle Wayne shakes his head. "Boy, you brought my kid back to me, and from what Eddie says, you've been keeping him safe here. There's nothing else you could do that'd top that, not as long as you keep treating him well."

Steve's quiet for a moment, and Eddie's pretty sure he wants to protest that it wasn't just him, but then he just nods.

"I'll take care of him. I promise," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Uncle Wayne reaches out to take it, giving it a firm shake before he pulls Steve into a hug.

Eddie can't see his uncle's face, but Steve looks at him all wide eyed and stiff, and Eddie just grins at him, shrugging.

He's already gearing up to tease him, but - then Steve takes a deep, shuddering breath, and hugs Uncle Wayne back, arms winding around him and holding on tight, and something about the sight of it makes Eddie avert his eyes.

Steve's parents haven't been home this whole time. Eddie hasn't asked - no one's mentioned it, like everyone's used to them being gone, and he kind of figures if Steve had anything more to say other than what he already had, other than what's obvious, he would.

But now he makes a note to mention it to his uncle, later. Now he thinks that as much as he's been adopted into this party - maybe his soulmate needs to be folded into Eddie's own little family of two.

They don't talk about it when they separate. Uncle Wayne just slaps Steve on the back, tells him to go finish up loading the truck, and he'll be out in a minute.

But when his uncle turns back to him, there's a look in his eye that tells him maybe Eddie won't have to mention anything at all.

"Maybe you could stay for dinner?" Eddie finds himself asking.

Uncle Wayne clears his throat, the way he does when he's feeling a little emotional about something. "Your boy already asked me, but it's better if I don't stay long. I don't want anyone to get to wondering what I'm doing lingering here."

It's a good point, Eddie knows it is, but he feels like he's fifteen and pissy again. "I hate this," he mutters. "I hate you being at that school."

Uncle Wayne cracks a grin. "Oh, I won't be. I've only been there trying to find a trace of you. Now that I know you're safe? Our insurance will be putting me up in the best hotel room Hawkins has. I knew paying the extra for earthquake coverage would come in handy."

And fuck if that doesn't make him feel worlds better.

"I'll leave the number with your friends," Uncle Wayne promises.

Eddie stands to hug him again, burying his face in his neck and holding on as tight as he can, like he never wants to let go.

Eventually, though, they have to pull away, and his uncle heads out into the garage.

There's a few beats of silence, as Eddie pulls in one ragged breath after another, trying to get himself back under control.

Then the garage door opens again, and Steve comes back in.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, unable to stop himself from feeling a little jittery again.

"Fine, Dustin went back to the school with Wayne. I'll follow them in a bit to pick up him and Robin, I just, uh. Wanted to check on you," Steve says, making a little face at himself. "How did it go?"

Eddie can't help but be a little touched. "It went good. He believed me."

Steve nods. "Like you thought he would?"

Eddie - can't actually agree to that, he realizes. He's not confident enough that it would be the truth.

When he stays silent, Steve seems to get it.

"Will you tell me?" Steve asks, which - apparently is now their code for I'm not going to ask directly so you don't have to lie but I'll listen if you want.

Or at least, Eddie's going to assume it is, since he said it to Steve first.

"I just-" Eddie starts, then pauses to take a deep breath. "I know I'm a lot. There's a lot that my uncle's had to put up with, cause of me. I pushed him a lot the first year I moved in with him, trying to figure out what would be too much for him, but it never was. I guess I wondered if maybe this would be it."

"But it wasn't?" Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. "No. It wasn't."

Steve just looks at him for a moment, like he's considering something. Then, "You're not too much, Eds."

Fuck.

"Don't you start, man," Eddie warns teasingly.

Steve huffs out a laugh. "All right, all right. Let's get you upstairs before I head out."

He thinks about protesting, but really, he's kind of grateful to be able to lean on Steve a little. Eddie doesn't want to admit to overdoing it, but he's pretty sure he overdid it.

"Oh, hey, I got something for you," Steve says once they're in the bedroom.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "But you already got me my uncle," he teases. "You keep going like this and I'll get spoiled."

Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie kind of means it. The longer he stays with Steve and Robin, the more he just. Kind of never wants to leave - or if he does, he wants Steve and Robin to move with him, he wants to stay in the same room and sleep in the same bed and have their toothbrushes in the same holder and his Yoohoo next to Steve's Gatorade and Robin's grape soda in the fridge.

It's stupidly domestic, which means Eddie's mostly trying to ignore it and just enjoy it while he has it.

Still, Steve's ears are a little bit pink, which gets him off that train of thought and makes him perk up. "Wait, seriously? When did you even have time to get me anything?"

"I got it a long time ago." Steve heads over to his desk, pulling open a drawer and rummaging around in it. Then he holds out a wooden box, pressing it into his hands. "Wanted to give it to you while we're alone."

Sure enough, it looks old. The wood is worn and a little dusty, and the hinges squeak a little as he opens it. It opens almost like a book, unfolding in a way that would make it easy to prop up on display - and when he gets a better look at it, it clearly is meant to display. There's a glass lining set in each half of the box, like two picture frames, except they hold a small collection of preserved butterflies.

It's, well. It's pretty fucking cool, and Eddie looks up at Steve, speechless.

Steve sits on the bed, rolling his pant leg up to the knee. He gestures at it, and Eddie can just make out Butterflies are so annoying, I hate them.

What.

That's.

Eddie just keeps looking at him, afraid that if he says anything it's going to be to tell Steve that god, he loves him.

He loves him.

"Oh," he manages to get out, shaky and breathless.

"Yeah," Steve says. "That was back when my dad still gave me advice sometimes and I gave a shit about following it. He said you should always have gifts ready for your soulmate, so they know you're thinking of them. Pretty sure he meant like diamonds and flowers and shit to bring back after you've been gone, but, you know. I figured this would be the kind of thing you like."

"You figured right. Fourteen year old me would have gone nuts over this," Eddie says, running his fingers over the glass. "Thank you, Steve. This, uh. Shit, this really means a lot."

Steve smiles at him, all pleased and fond, and the silence rests nice and comfy between them for a moment.

Then Steve pulls in a breath and lets it out, and Eddie's pretty sure he recognizes that particular blend of uncertainty and determination, and oh.

Oh no.

"Steve," he whispers. It comes out a little desperate, half a warning and half a plea.

He's not sure what he means by it. He's not even sure he knows what Steve's going to say - it could be a million things, honestly, just because Eddie is painfully aware that he can't keep convincing himself that their bond is at all platonic, at least on his end, doesn't mean that Steve's thinking the same thing.

Eddie just knows that he can't. He's not ready for this, he's not ready for any of it.

Steve seems to get something out of Eddie just saying his name, though, because he swallows, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Can we just think about it?"

Eddie finds himself nodding before he really realizes. "Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay," Steve repeats.

Steve heads out to go get Dustin and Robin after that, and Eddie gets settled on the bed, taking another dose of meds and staring at the little preserved butterflies.

Think about it.

Fuck, everything has just been so much these last few weeks, and Eddie'd really, really like it to just… not. He's exhausted, all wrung out and hollow, and he just wants to close his eyes and not think about anything, but.

He said he would, and he wasn't lying when he said it, so he guesses he has to.

It's not that he can't share Steve with Robin, not by a long shot. He's well aware that it's Robin sharing Steve with him - and he knows that even if it were the other way around, even if Steve and Robin were platonic soulmates and Steve and Eddie were romantic, it would still be Robin sharing Steve with him. Steve and Robin have something that goes deeper than anything, something that Eddie couldn't touch even if he wanted, and he… he kind of likes that. The part of Steve that is Robin is just what makes him Steve, and Eddie's pretty on board with that.

It's just that he knows himself. He knows that if he kisses Steve - if it starts being something they do, if they let themselves go there - he's going to want to be the only one that Steve kisses.

It's not fair, not to anyone, but it is what it is. He's not sure he can change that part of himself, not even for Steve. So it's just better if they don't go there.

Now he just has to figure out how he's going to tell that to Steve, without any of it coming out as a lie.

Up next: the platonic/romantic lines get even more blurry, and a much less pleasant house call

-----

Part 21

Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[blackkatmagic]

So the only time travel/time loop fics I've ever really liked are the ones you've written, and I've started wanting to write one myself, but I'm finding the planning process daunting. Do you have any advice on it?

I think, for me, the main thing I always try to focus on in time travel or loop fics is consequences. Particularly in the former - time travel fics where nothing changes and it's just a rehash of canon are mind-numbingly boring. Thankfully, the easy way to fix that is to just focus on the small changes that naturally come out of people making different decisions. Apply the butterfly effect - if someone goes left instead of right, explore the consequences of that, especially all the little ripples and changes that come from that one moment. People aren't the same, too - the person traveling back might have the same core values, but they've been shaped in different ways than their past selves were, so they're going to react differently to pretty much anything. That spins off changes, too. I've always found those small changes snowballing into catastrophic differences to be the most interesting way to approach time travel, since the audience isn't going to know where the story takes its left turns, and that keeps attention engaged.

As far as mechanics go, jot down a rough list of changes and their fallout, at least as far as you have planned. I hate outlines, personally, because they make me feel trapped in a certain plot, but having a brief series of bullet points really helps make a roadmap to where I want the story to go without acting like a restraint.

[that-dreaming-dragon]

Origin Theory

Asking someone's origin feels like asking someone what's their assigned gender at birth. That's like, undermining who they are as a person, correct gender and all. Maybe there's value in knowing where one came from, but that's pretty personal.

At the least, the alterhuman community at large don't really hound on people for their origin from what I'd seen. It's a lot of people offering up their origin story. Is this a need to be validated due to all the past discourse surrounding spiritual vs psychological origin?

On the same vein, voluntariness. It's another form of origin theory that gets a little, I'm not sure redundant is the right word, but it takes away a lot of personal agency when dealing with something that's your own, one's identity.

With how vastly diverse and just generally limitlessness of alterhuman identities, having something so finite and restrained is so strange. Maybe for presentation towards the newcomer and orthohuman outside the community it's important to keep things simple--box labeled and everything organized like a file cabinet. But within the community? Conversation flows easier, as I observed, when people put not as much stock with the origin theory. Although it is still fun to talk about, speculating one's own "how I came about", it really shouldn't be the "oh no, I'm psychological/spiritual" then proceeds to panic. I donno, I fortunately haven't seen this. Though, I can't remember how it was when I first found the community roughly 5 or 6 years ago, I vaguely recall the emphasis on spirituality with implicitness of how much more important it is than psychological. I guess there is still that lingering around. Although I'd heard how in some circle, it's the reverse. This whole thing is just so dumb and really not cool. I don't have the right word here, but please hear my frustration.

A lot of things with alterhumanity by itself is fascinating. I like hearing about people contemplating whether they are spiritual, psychological, I love hearing the one alien that has a philosophical relationship with their alterhumanity, I know of a couple dragons who start their draconity as artistic expression of the self. These are really cool! And knowing for some the cause of their alterhumanity is from their neurodivergence made me think about myself. Knowing about people that have other lives, whether it's living in parallel with other universes, inside time loops, or having a identity because they will become that one day? That's all really neat.

We don't need to proof who we are within the community. Isn't that one of the point of having a community? We shouldn't need to validate ourselves to the folks who are suppose to be just like us, or at least understand what we are going through in some way.

I mentioned just now how some have identity that they become due to artistic expression, there is a implictness of the voluntariness in there. They are still who they are in the end. (do the end justified the mean? That's when on making decision to do something. not dealing with identity stuff) Personal journey such as alterhuman self discovery are, the whole thing would matter differently to people, some would care for the path they'd took, some only look at where they are, some care for every single moment, some just goes with the flow, and it is all perfectly okay! Because we are all unique individual experiencing our own thing.

I mean, if we are talking about explicitly intensionally created bond towards something, aka linking, that's something explicitly voluntary. Yet quoiluntary exists as a term for people's use, and there is a need for it! There's this focus on a linktype as something you can drop, but there's the concept Anteatype--a identify-as (kin/theriotype) that has been dropped, which makes the whole "something that can be pick up voluntarily and then drop as easily" as the definition people point to kind of null. It's the one post Poppy on tumblr had said

'Paratype' only tells you about the origin of the connection/identity, not its substance.

To me, “otherlinking” only tells me that it was from without, external, applied with a will, to actively create or strengthen a connection, preexisting or not. And then later on if someone feel the need to shift their terminology to better fit their experience, it's a option. Though it can be scary, the community is there to support.

I know at one point I myself also put emphasis on how much my origin is. I mean I did mention me finding that my hearttype is far more spiritual inclined than my kintype. I ascribe to the metaphoric in origin for my kintype these days though. It's not important a conversation, though I do like to ruminate on it myself for my own curiosity.

Course I wish we can completely move away from the need to define these boxes, but I suppose we can treat them like alterhuman identity training wheel. You can use them when you first found the whole concept, it might help to keep things simple and more concrete. Later on, when you are ready to fly, you can gently let them go, or pin them up on your pin board hoard, say "okay, I'd done that, now let's see what else there are". Be a little explorer, except the vast beyond is the little universe within your very self.

[tweeterwilbury]

It's really funny to me that like. Csny was already doomed from the start. Like even as a concept when you look at it it already was obvious that it Wouldnt work like just looking at stephen and neil but still they literally are mutually cursed like . Like there was almost no rational reason for neil to join them and the reason why he says he joined them is. It's literally so bad like the way he is like I wanted to have what we had on buffslo springfield but it didnt work. What did you even have on buffalo springfield that was good. It was so bad . Like he is never getting out of the loop we know it. But stephen is also never getting out of the loop which is even crazier like they are in that shit together but also. It's so bad idk . Ok let's call the guy who i hate but i love and who is better than me and that makes me feel insecure and also that WILL NOT solve our problems because we need someone to play bass and drums but he is a guitarist and we already have 3 guitarists but idkk he can play piano st least. And then things obviously start to go wrong but like it goes even worse than you would think that it would go. Because obviously the neil-stephen tension was going to doom csny from the start but then It's somehow worse than you would expect because like crosby is going through grief and also there is cocaine and. Nash is there crying in the middle of the recording studio too idk. Like it's so bad and it takes months to record it and neil is recording something else and idk it's all wrong and ofc it's all wrong. And then they make a tour and obviously it's even worse because like before people may have gone to the concerts focusing on CSN since their album was sellijg more but now people Know neil and like his solo set is crazy the loner/cinnamon girl/down by the river medley is crazy and he plays new songs and all and like idk it's very clear he is this big great songwriter and he may over shadow csn and also crosby and nash are lowkey flirting with each other during their solo sets too and meanwhile like. Stephen is full solo and ofc that would make him get much more insecure and it kinda explains the terrible long solo sets he would do like that medley with for what it's worth is so terrible it makes me feel ashamed for him but it's so pitiful like i feel bsd for him too. And then on the electric set he and neil are jumping at each other again as usual and they are making songs that are 4 minute longs have 10 minutes long guitar breaks and yknow it's the intricate rituals all again but it's still so bad. And also the thing with neil quitting because of dallas taylor ofc . But also like. Ok my point when i started this was that it's crazy that with all that neil was like Ok i will play THIS

which is a crazy song like basically romantic and i guess it's about stephen and. And like. Stephen sings it like he is answering neil which is a normal thing to do when you are very insecure about yourself and you have this friend who you hate and love who makes you feel more insecure but you also has put him in a torture chamber but you are also IN the torture chamber like you are his executioner and also your executioner and. I dont even know man you are listening to him singing and I love you and you are answering him with I love you I do which is a normal thing to say ofc and then he makes a movie like 2 years later and he includes footage of the group singing that and it literally focus on you when you answer him singing like that's Normal. I think i have done three different posts in one already. Sorry #neilphenweek2024

[cannibal-walleye]

Okay WOO I'm back. Hasn't quite been 8 hours of sleep, but like, who cares about the specifics??

Okay first, I just want to say amazing chapter as always. First and foremost. It will never cease to amaze me how Impulse and Skizz are completely different characters. You do such a good job of creating individual voices for them, but yet in a way that doesn't feel like a dramatic change? I don't know if that really makes sense? Reading from each pov feels different, it feels like it's genuinely a different person we're viewing, but it also feels like they're one in the same. Like they're the same person in a different font, like they genuinely are made for each other. I'm getting way off track and over analyzing something as simple as an author writing multiple pov's. Okay then. Back on track. This chapter was a delight to read, and knowing most of it probably wasn't even planned and just. Spiraled into existence is very funny to me. Never been this excited to see Skizz's chapter because the things you have the potential to do. My god.

Okay now talking about the ACTUAL CHAPTER!! I'm assuming this takes place the same day as the apology pastries, but I could be wrong. Having Tango as the TA is genius and genuinely threw me for a loop because I forgot Impulse didn't personally know him at first. My first thoughts were something like "wow another blazeborn thats cool. To bad its not tango, or impulse would have thought about him directly by now". And then it. Was Tango. SHAKSJK. This could majority effect the plot or just be a silly thing to add onto the miscommunication pile and I love it. (Also impulse calling him Tongo?? Fucking amazing.) I don't really have much to say about Tango right now, but I'm very excited to hopefully see more of him in the future

Impulse physically counting down the minutes before he gets to leave class, and more importantly, look at the messages skizzley sent? He is incredibly real for that, but also, that man is down BAD. Impulse thinking about and then proceeding to RESEARCH angle culture. The WINGS. His CLAWS. I hate him. I hate him so much. An angles ability to sense others emotions? Walleye the things you've done and set up in a relatively short chapter. Insane.

Now the main thing i wanted to talk about. Certainly not last, and potentially the furthest thing from least, Impulse can see enchantments. First, that is SO insanely cool. Only certain species can see enchantments?? That's such a cool thing?? Not only as a plot device (i see what you're doing. I will be talking about it in a second.) But also just, a super cool thing? I know I'm repeating myself but, I love that?

I'm not really going to try and sort out my thoughts about how this will effect impulse as the classmate because I will be here for a while, and instead just focus on how GENIUS of a miscommunication plot point this is. The moment I read the line "this time noting the white feathers" I knew it was all over. Of course impulse would specifically say white feathers, he wouldn't be able to see enchantments through a picture. Of course he wouldn't have any reason to think Skizzley is an angle, much less his classmate (yes he does. He DOES. he has EVERY REASON TO THINK THAT-) and this is just touching the surface of everything you've set up within this single conversation.

Impulse is now way more attracted to his online friend, he knows he has wings, he doesn't, even for a SECOND, consider the possibility of skizz being skizz, and on top of that. You made Impulse indirectly insult Skizz's wings.

Now, this might not be important, it might not effect anything, I might be reading too far into it. But from skizz's perspective? He shares a personal picture for the first time, it includes a snippet of his wings, and his online friend whom he's grown so very attached to, says some other guy, who ALSO has the name skizz, has prettier wings? Keeping in mind skizz can't sense or feel any emotions online, he has no way of knowing Impulses true intentions. He has no real way to tell if impulse is playing it up for the bit, or if he genuinely thinks this other guy, in every sense of the word, is more attractive. Again could mean nothing.

While I'm here I might as well scream about the emotion thing a bit more. Stepping away from the chapter and plot points, not being able to tell what Dipple Dop is feeling must be so refreshing and so fucking terrifying at the same time. Anyway, back to the story. We know skizz doesn't know what exactly impulse his classmate is feeling towards him. (Something something everybody loves skizz and skizz loves everybody, he doesn't know the different between platonic love and romantic love because nobody has ever cared about him as a person that much vs a really good friend etc etc) he can't know what dipple dop is feeling. For the first time in probably a long time he is almost completely in the dark. We're assuming skizz hasn't put the pieces together what so ever about another skizz with wings, hey! I'm a skizz! I have wings! Because, well there probably wouldn't be over 20 more chapters if he did SKSKAJ

Also SCREAMING AT YOU. SCREAMING AT YOU SO HARD BECAUSE RAAHAHHAHJ if the knowledge that angels can sense emotions gets to impulses head, there is a very high likelihood he will start to avoid his classmate, also maybe gaslight himself into trying to feel anything other than attraction to this man, which would make skizz think he did something wrong, etc etc. Impulse now firmly believes skizzley is somebody else and it's just an insane coincidence. Skizz is one devious author away from spiraling into a mess. There are so many other directions this could go I just DONT KNOW HOW TO PUT THEM INTO WORDSS. There are so many other THOUGHTS that i dont know how to explain. There are so many different paths i can see this taking. you make me so mad. In a good way. I'm angry that you're writing a story that is basically specifically tailored to drive me insane/pos. There are so many more things i could probably talk about from this chapter alone but ive forgotten them because the only clear thing right now is just "they should kiss. For fun. As a reward. Let them kiss".

At this point I've been here over an hour trying to make sure this is somewhat readable because to be honest I haven't fully woken up and it's way to early for me to try and use my brain for sophisticated thoughts! but! We persist! Because you have completely taken over every thought of mine with half baked concepts and ideas on how insanely stupid these idiots are. And if I don't get them out I won't be able to do anything today. I hope you're happy, I hope you're proud of what you've made me (don't stop. I'll gladly embrace insanity if skizzpulse miscommunication college au is the result/silly)

Hi hi hi!!!!!! have I ever told you how much I love your comments and things because I love them dearly and read them regularly for motivation :))

That said, you need to SLEEP. It is critical for your mental and physical health, and you need to be in peak physical condition to handle what the next chapter holds ;)

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH I TRY SO HARD TO GIVE THEM UNIQUE VOICESSSSSSS. they ARE made for each other, soul mates, destined to be together in every universe <3 But I appreciate you noticing this so much you have no idea, and I'm thrilled that you liked the chapter :D and I'm glad you're hyped for the next one ((EVEN IF IT"S BEEN A MONTH AAAAA-)) because it's coming soon to an archive near you

That last chapter did happen on the same day as the pastries, you're correct (though, I'm not gonna lie, I haven't payed attention to the timeline at ALL until recently, things just kinda vaguely happen at some point in the week. That said, I did make schedules for each of them that I might release soon). Also YES ta Tango is one of my favorite things, because Impulse needs more friends 👍 (ngl Gem and Pearl were added in the spur of the moment for the same reason because I decided he was going to be in a group project now lmao. That had NOT been the intent when I started the chapter, I can tell you that much). Impulse calling him Tongo made me laugh so much tho, it's just so stupid and I giggled every single time I read it xD

He is down bad, and it's far too late for him to recover >:) I just thought, "what would a stupid idiot do if he had a massive crush on someone?" and the answer was, of course, do extensive research on every aspect about the man that he can think of. Totally normal and not at all obsessive behavior, not at all.

Hehehehehe I love adding little things like demons being able to see enchantments (they can see something else, too, but you'll find out what that is soon enough...). I love adding niche worldbuilding things just because I can :D And demons being able to see enchantments just so happens to be majorly relevant to the plot >:)

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE the enchantments don't go through the screen >:))))))))

honestly, I wasn't expecting everyone to get it immediately, but ig my readers aren't as dumb as Impulse is (/lh). I also love how angry everyone is over this little thing, because he has absolutely no reason to be comparing the two in his mind, now that he has what he believes is solid evidence that they're not the same person--not that he would have ever thought that in the first place. It's simply a coincidence that they have the same name :)

(also, side note for this lil moment: it was directly inspired by the post that started this whole thing from Chipper, which said that Impulse knew they both had wings, but thought that online Skizz was a dove hybrid or something)

oh my, Impulse indirectly insulting skizz's wings? ......

I'm sure that won't come up later :)

I'm not going to confirm or deny any of your theories on how Impulse may or may not behave given that Skizz can sense emotions, but that said, I love your theories and eat them up for breakfast, please please keep them coming. Impulse avoiding him and Skizz spiraling into a mess would be funny though, wouldn't it...

Thank you thank you again for sending this ask in!! I love every bit of it, and also some of your thoughts have inspired me to make... slight edits, let's say, to future chapters ;) What those edits are, you'll never know. because I'm evil.

Look forward to the next chapter in the coming days ((potentially even hours if I get around to it O.o))

[aberrationaldyke]

to rebuild—7

*looks away as i hand u this*

ch. 1, ch. 2, ch. 3, ch. 4, ch. 5, ch.6, ch. 8

“you’re doing what? with who?” khane lays on shoola’s bed, toying with a puzzle mechanism in his hands, brown eyes lit up with interest at his aunt’s words. “how many times have i tried to bring you down for the same thing?” he smiles to himself, seeing as his speculations are coming true.

shoola’s towel is over her chest, stare on the mirror in her bathroom. slowly, she rubs moisturizer into her rich brown skin, the sweet fragrance mixing with the dissipating steam following her shower taken just a few minutes ago. the scar on the right side of her face as well as the base of her neck holds her focus, hands running over the sites of old injury with a light massage, a special salve applied. 

she thinks, maybe i shouldn’t. regret arises with the idea, knowing she is expected by sevika. concerning gatherings outside her home, she has only carved herself out of the supposed safety of her abode to attend council meetings and the only most necessary of invitations that are fundraisers and attendance to university—both having dwindled significantly since the incident. in lieu of these thoughts, her inner voice speaks up again: this is necessary; not in an obligatory manner at all.  

shoola rolls her shoulder back once, stretching out her body with the motion. the words from khane, having registered moments ago, beam in her mind like a message that needs a reply, the lotion rubbed into the last of her unmoisturized skin as she conjures her reply. 

“a night out…with a friend.” shoola leaves the bathroom, the softness of her slippers caressing her feet while she pads to her closet a few feet down. she rolls her eyes at the scoff that emits from khane in response, her hands still rubbing together just to feel the sensation of her skin with the lotion on. 

khane sits up on the bed, interest in the puzzle departing to get into the thick of it. “and which friend have you suddenly decided to accept an invitation from after” –he feigns a count on his fingers despite being out of shoola’s view– “centuries?” 

shoola’s airy laugh floats through the contents of her room, her fingers brushing over the garment she's examining. by the tone of his voice she can only fake a wrong answer to who he’s alluding to, her thoughts shifting to the individual easily. “can’t i just…go out? if i was all tucked in for the night you’d be on another rant about that.” 

“this isn’t a rant. i asked a question—that you are unsuccessfully dodging by the way.” khane juts his lips a bit as he smooths his thumb over the metal device in his left palm. “how you feelin’?”

looking over a white off-shoulder top, shoola nods to the choice before answering, “i’m feeling the best i can. i…sevika is…nice to be around. different. i need that.” the last words are a bit quieter than the rest.

“yeah? even if she gets on your ass about the council?”

shoola sets aside the top and begins to search for a bottom. “well she’s right every time with every point. her agitation and anger aren’t misplaced; that is the least she could do.”

khane hums. “so you like being told off i guess.” 

a flowy pair of black pants catch shoola’s interest, her hand reaching to take the garment from its place before her left hand smooths over the length of the fabric. her thoughts put together the full outfit in her head before khane’s pointed statement loops through as well. “i think you should point your gaze to your own matters with rekia.” she finds her undergarment next with ease, slipping on the soft fabric, thumbs tracing the waistband. 

“you don’t have to tell me.” khane grunts softly as he stands up from the bed, joints popping softly. “maybe i should invite ‘em. so we can spy on y’all. then i’m going to tell mama and pa—hell the whole family’s gonna hear about it.” 

“i doubt my personal life is of any interest the way you’re making it sound,” is shoola’s reply, her words clearly spoken with a smile. “and it might be ironic to say considering the fact that zaunites track my every move when i’m down there–”

“they do–”

“but i don’t need anyone else…watching. and i truly doubt sevika favors that idea.” 

khane tightens up at that thought, pocketing his handheld puzzle. though he expected that was who shoola is going with, her vague attitude has finally dropped, meaning she is warming up to the fact as well. his sly smile is hidden as he actually considers taking rekia to the same bar and doing a little lounging, a dash of drinking, and a smidge of specified people-watching. 

exiting her closet, shoola comes out in her outfit, her chosen shoes held by her right index and middle finger tucked into the heels, free hand smoothing over her torso and sides. she walks over to her vanity and takes a seat on the plush seating. “that shut your mouth right up—does sevika scare you?”

“uh, is a fork found in a kitchen?” khane wanders the expanse of the bedroom, nearing shoola in his slow trek. “but it’s still one of her best qualities. sevika’s like zaun in that way—based on face value they’re a bit…y’know. then you dig a little and you have a soft, vulnerable individual.”

shoola applies a base of black eye shadow, laughing lightly in the middle of the careful swipes. “have you told them that?” 

“when i’m in the mood to get told off, yeah. but you can definitely slide that comment in there and get off scot-free. since y’all havin’ breakfast and everything together now.” 

blinking a couple of times, shoola angles her head from side to side, studying her efforts so far then giving a humored sigh and closing her eyes for a moment. “is this you just being ten feet deep in my business or a case of wiloh’s loose lips.”

a feigned moment of thought with a light hum comes from khane before he says brightly, “good fortune from both.”

next on the applicator is the golden hue, shoola’s response withheld for a minute as she focuses on applying eye shadow. during some point in her makeup application, her right hand develops a light tremor, her brush set down immediately as she tucks her hand under her vanity, squeezing it repeatedly to calm the trigger. “...good fortune for who exactly?”

khane finds himself near the pitcher of water, pouring a fresh cup and then bringing it to shoola, setting it on the corner of the gold-accented vanity. “me, myself, and i. i’m a big fan of whatever you two got goin’ on.”

shoola can’t help the tired laugh that comes from her before she murmurs a ‘thank you’ to him, left hand reaching to pick up the cup and take a couple of soothing swigs. “i think you’re bored and you need more hobbies.” as she sets the cup back down, her right hand is relieved from the tremors, and she picks up the applicator to continue putting on her eyeshadow. 

“is that a nice way of tellin’ me to kick rocks?” 

“not at all, but your foot is fitting nicely into the shoe.” she finishes off adorning her face, then places her faceplate on, standing up from the chair as she massages her lips together, making sure her lipstick is spreading evenly. even as she stands, she is in the view of the vanity’s mirror, taking a long look at herself, angling her face to study the entirety of it while she shifts her body to see how it all comes together. 

khane looks at the clock and starts to gather his own things while he speaks up, “you look cute. get out of that mirror’s face and get to enjoyin’ your night.” he opens her bedroom door, slipping through the space before lingering for a second. “give sevika a hug and a kiss for me. love you, stay safe.” 

certain thoughts already neatly tucked away, the playful words make shoola turn away from the mirror, the shutting of her door making her reply begin with a stammer before she calls out her own farewell. 

-

sevika waits in front of the elevator, sights in a deep concentration to study the mechanism before them. they shift their stance, taking in a breath as they keep the overbearing thoughts to a minimum. their brown skin is tight with nerves, the heat surging through being a different sensation from what has been felt in the past few weeks. to pinpoint a main feeling would be a failure, the whirlwind of emotions letting sevika hover in a limbo. 

the next descent of the elevator, sevika takes a subconscious step forward, their eyes darting from each person leaving the mechanism. they keep walking until the familiar frame of shoola comes into view, their gazes setting on one another, simultaneous hesitance in both of their next movements. sevika does their usual once-over, a bit of a repetition in the action as they admire the look shoola put together, the jewelry remaining focused on golden accents with matte black adornments mixed into them. they tilt their head, a faint smile on their face. 

immersed in the sweet spice of sevika’s fragrance, shoola takes a moment to realize how close she is to them, the hairs on her skin perking up at the proximity while the blood rushes to her face. “overdressed, didn't i?” she adjusts the positioning of her top, making sure it is sitting right.

a soft hum comes from sevika as they shake their head, lips downturning a bit. “i don’t remember making a dress code for tonight. and you look good.”  they motion their head toward the space behind them. “ready?” 

“i am.” shoola catches their gaze and her chest constricts, her posture straightening as she watches them quickly look her up and down before turning and leading the way away from the elevator. she is graced with the sight of her acquaintance’s back, the fabric of the vest they’re wearing wrapping the expanse of their wide body just right; an unashamed dekko is given to sevika’s ass, the fitted material accentuating the curves. her stare raises as her face warms, sights landing on the nape of their neck, a visible growth coming to the undercut. the thought to touch and caress is quickly shooed away while she clears her throat, tugging at the neckline of her top again, her claws grazing her chest. she looks away to her surroundings, trying to gather herself with another aspect to focus on. 

“you feelin’ alright tonight?” sevika slows and looks to their side, watching shoola abandon her position just behind them, the back of their hands brushing against one another. neither pull away immediately, the bit of comfort offered by the unintentional. 

“mhm.” shoola nods. “how about you? i didn’t keep you waiting too long, i hope.” 

“not at all.” sevika hears the incoming commotion before their body bumps shoola’s, right hand finding the small of her back while they let the group pass, their broad build pressed against her curvy, thick frame for a moment before they guide both of their bodies to the side of the street. they look back at who just trudged through uncaringly, bottling the holler to concentrate on the path to the bar. “you know how close i am to posting up rules for how to walk with other people on the same damn route?” 

shoola is hushed, the firm touch of sevika’s hand building a desire she knows she has no business indulging in. when they look at her, she nods a couple of times, forcing a chuckle. “they were a bit close, yes. um…that happens a lot?” obviously, she thinks to herself. 

bringing their hand back to their side, sevika notices the other’s rigidity, the presumed discomfort letting them know they need to think of particular actions before doing it. they return to their normal posture and start back on the path. “yeah, often.”

the rest of the short trek is enveloped by silence, more of a distance in between the two as they walk through the lively streets. an even livelier building is where sevika is headed, a nervous prickle bringing a light heat to their skin as they approach, hoping the environment serves to ease both theirs and shoola’s turmoil. they walk up to the door and open it, the muffled music no longer stifled, the clear notes ringing through the air. looking back at shoola, they tilt their head toward the inside once seeing her just stand there. 

“waiting for an invite? or are you scared?” sevika has a ghost of a smile when they are given a pointed look, their gray sights set on shoola’s golden-gray eyes. 

she steps forward. “i don’t think i’m afraid of much.” another step and she enters the tavern fully, the air a stark difference from outside. shoola ignores the stares and scans the room’s interior, taking in the decor with a light smile before finding sevika’s gaze. 

“i can tell.” sevika’s left arm points to the bar and then a small booth in the corner. “your choice.” 

even through the loud instruments, the deep, smooth tone of sevika’s voice reaches shoola, their slight lean to make sure they are heard making the councilor cycle through her thoughts a couple time before being able to respond. seeing as her mind structures a more intimate outcome with choosing the booth, shoola points to the bar, the claws adorning her fingers tonight carrying a fully black presentation with golden tips. “can you tell khane is scared of you?”

sevika’s visage lights up at that, a laugh quick to follow. “he told you that?” they follow her to the bar and watch her sit on one of the stools before moving theirs a bit closer. “and you’re just putting his business out like that? damn.” they meet the bartender’s gaze and wave him over. 

“funny you say that considering he would be sat right next to us if i didn’t pry him off of his plans to follow tonight.” shoola examines the bottles lining the wall behind the bartenders. ultimately, she is unfamiliar with the zaun-produced liquor, mentally handing over her choices to sevika. when the individual behind the bar comes to take their order, she looks at sevika just when they look at her. 

quick to read what shoola’s gaze conveys, sevika orders two shots of the same thing, chilled, small cups put in front of the two before a light brown spirit is poured into both. as she thanks the bartender, shoola slips in a request for a regular beverage on the side to accompany the shot, then she adjusts her position on the stool, thick thighs rubbing against each other while her ass shifts back slightly.

“i didn’t expect this bar to be the one you’d plan to go to,” shoola says, nodding her head and smiling at the bartender when he returns with a regular sweet drink. her gaze drops to sevika’s fingers tracing the bottom edge of their shot glass, a couple seconds of her stare bringing stray thoughts; quickly, she looks to her own cup and ensues aimless touching of the glass as well. 

“yeah? well i think what you had in mind is a bit more rough around the edges then this place.” sevika grabs their glass and raises it toward shoola. “to good health.” 

shoola does the same. “and…to new friends.” 

the edges of the cups kiss, shoola’s prompt finally processing when sevika’s lips meet their glass to take the shot, a small smile stretches across as they murmur, “to new friends.” they down the shot with a slight wince, tuning into her immediately as the burn in their throat is dismissed. shoola eyes narrow a bit as she swallows the shot, her opposing hand already taking a hold of the requested cup of juice and eagerly taking a small sip to wash away the bitter evidence. 

a glimmer within their gray eyes, sevika chuckles at her drinking procedure, attention brought to shoola’s hand resting on her lap, the golden tips of the matte black claws scintillating when she moves a bit. “also…thought you’d like live music rather than some old, beat up jukebox.” 

looking at the space around her, shoola notices the small area to the side where individuals and couples are dancing to the jazz, gesturing toward them with a slight angling of her head. “do you think i’d like dancing too?”

sevika takes the chance to give shoola a feigned once-over, lips jutting to the side a bit. “hmm. i can see you out there, yeah.” a scenario of shoola out on the floor dancing conjures in their mind as soon as the words leave them, their new companion’s presence and movements planted alongside their own, following the beats perfectly, bodies nearly touching while their hands are occupied in caressing one another’s. a quick blur applied to their loose imagination, sevika taps their shot glass while bringing their eyes they look at shoola’s empty one. by now the shot has settled into their system, another layer of warmth blanketing their skin. “should we have another?”

shoola takes her gaze from the band, still moving her shoulder to the music while she gives an affirmed hum, a soft clink emitting as her claws push the shot glass forward. “i usually like a simple wine, but this is good. i didn’t expect the aftertaste to be so sweet.”

sevika is about to go into the details of who makes the particular brew, leaning forward as the forearm of their prosthetic rests on the bar counter, a soft whirring projecting from the motion. their eyes flit to the entrance of the bar before the door opens, a few individuals trickling in, making sevika look back to shoola before focusing on the group trudging through again. 

the advances sevika has made for the betterment of their community has unfortunately struck a chord in particular types of people who once thrived under what zaun was when silco and vander were at the forefront of taking care of everything. since sevika has seen the fault in both efforts and took it upon theirself to break the complacency of the position, flushing out the infrastructures that are truly rotting zaun from the core, it could only be expected that there would be such attitudes in response. 

but in this moment, sevika is already agitated, having hoped for a night that took both shoola’s and their mind off the pressures of duties and working. 

“i’ll be back,” sevika tells shoola, holding her gaze for a few seconds as they get up from the stool. 

“oh. are you okay?” she tracks their movement, and looks to where they are heading, now noticing the presence of a few new attendees to the bar. concern arising in an instant, she continues, “who are they?” 

sevika gets the bartender’s attention. “jamie, anything she wants on my tab.” their eyes say the rest of their order while their head motions to the guests that just entered. 

“you got it,” jamie chirps, the task of looking after shoola already having been imprinted as soon as she arrived with sevika. his dark green eye tracks sevika’s movement before settling back on the first time guest.  

a lingering look given to the lead of the group, kel, sevika walks past until they reach the door, opening it and waiting for him to follow them outside. never left alone in their efforts to protect what is being rebuilt, several guests that were already in the bar get up to back sevika, watching the gang follow them out as they accompany the group. the door closes behind them all and the band resumes playing, maintaining the light atmosphere that was once albeit a bit more tense with thoughts of what is occurring just outside. 

shoola keeps her eyes on the door, brows furrowed while her chest constricts with worry. she knows well that sevika is more than capable of taking care of theirself in that manner of defense, yet there is a weird feeling in her stomach that urges her to make sure that factor remains; but she doubts her lessons in self-defense are a match for individuals that have been fighting for most of their lives. 

“...you a drink?” the end of the inquiry reaches shoola, making her turn to the person standing near sevika’s seat. silver eyes set atop dark sclera’s stare burn into shoola, a polite smile on her face when she faces the stranger fully. 

“i’m sorry, what was that?” shoola looks the individual up and down, her analysis transparent. 

the stranger does the same, tilting her head toward the empty shot glass. she repeats, her accent thick,  “i asked if i could get you a drink, councilor shoola.” 

“oh, you don’t have to call me that,” shoola laughs airily. “and you can get me a drink if i can offer you one back…?” she leaves space to ask for her name without asking.

“may,” she finishes. humming with satisfaction, may calls jamie over, his look between the two telling, but he keeps quiet, seeing no harm in the friendly interaction. ordering for shoola, may slides a few bronze cogs over the counter, turning back to her when they finish speaking to him. 

“whatever she wants,” shoola tells jamie. 

as he retreats to start making the drinks, may dips back into conversation with shoola, silver eyes running up the length of her body. “i didn’t take you as a patron of zaun’s businesses.”

shoola hums. “you just haven’t seen me around. but i’ve been back and forth for decades—i have some family that lives here. and…friends.” 

“friends?” may takes a seat where sevika was sitting. “and one of them is supposed to be sevika, i’m assuming.”

jamie sets down the drinks in front of the two, lingering nearby as he hears his companion’s name. he takes out a rag and cleans the counter with no need to do so, the handmade decor lining his right eyepatch glinting with his movements. gaze darting to the door, he expects sevika to be returning soon, the next confrontation one he will be having a frontrow to. 

shoola thanks him before indulging in the pale blue cocktail, a leveled amount of spirit and additional beverages mixed together bringing a satisfied expression to her face. hearing the pointed words from may, she takes the straw and swirls the drink. “one of them is sevika, actually. are you here to tell me something about my choices? you sound disappointed,” is the light reply, her shaved brows raised. 

may takes a sip of her own drink, shrugging. “you seem like you’d keep better company around. not a drug dealing, child labor enabler.” 

her fingers letting go of her straw, shoola stares may right in her eyes. “do you think piltover is above any of that? that i am a saint who has never seen or had a hand in other’s suffering?” she leans in slightly. “you think i don’t know? i can take a group of piltover citizens and a group of zaunites, tell them to hold out their hands and see that not a single one is clean; i could do it again and see the innocents. they are melded in these societies. there are some who sustain that role and continue to dirty their hands.” she motions to the door behind her where kel and his gang are being handled just outside of it. “and there are some who will choose to scrub them clean no matter the stains that remain. efforts and a change of mind—i see that and i do not care who i call my companion.”

the door of the bar opens; sevika wants nothing more than to sit and enjoy the rest of their night, a bruise forming on the right side of their ribs while anger shudders through their flesh—preferred company and a drink is a highlight in the near future. then they espy shoola’s engaged body language and their seat occupied, their gaze hardening as they start a slow march back to her. they know who is sitting next to her but can’t bring theirself to care much past recognition, mind in a slight daze. 

shoola’s skin prickles and she hears the familiar thud of sevika’s boots, her body straightening as she brightens before glancing to her side and craning her head slightly to hold their gaze. but that was only with the expectation that they were already looking at her. instead, sevika has a hard glare on may, a slight quiver to their gaze as they remain speechless, breaths heavy and prominent through their nose. 

may is mid-sip of her drink, her side-eye becoming a dead-on returning stare. larger swigs of her drinks are taken before she gets up from the seat to stand, the energy she’s getting from sevika enough of a prompt for her to leave and return to the back of the bar. 

sevika watches her retreat, then looks at her seat before setting her stare on shoola, the concern in her eyes a layer of balm to their demeanor. they sit back down in a languorous manner, wincing slightly. they push may’s empty glass aside with their knuckles, the glass taken by jamie and replaced with a fresh cup of liquor for them, more than a shot poured into the short, sturdy glass.

shoola stays quiet, focusing on her cocktail and taking a long and hefty sip. when her lips detach from the straw, she motions vaguely. “that…happens often?”

a drink taken from their cup, sevika keeps her friend’s eyes within their sight, the burn a welcome distraction from their body pulsing with pain. they discard that inquiry as the topic of their conversation, placing humor to divert the obvious answer, “i leave for a couple of minutes and that’s who you replace me with?” 

“no, i…i thought she was friendly. emphasis on thought.” shoola’s study of sevika’s state is constant, her position on her chair shifting to come toward them slightly. “and i don’t think i have any candidates to replace you.”

sevika’s emotions triumph over the spirits in their system, a welcome burning heat set to their face and body. they give a slow nod. “...good.”

[ellouchi]

for the selfship prompts... 15 :) <3 -ez

Among the world's slowest writers... AHHH THIS TOOK LONGER IN ALL THE SENSES THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD. I've also misunderstood the prompt but like omg who caaaares just read this lol ok. Under read more because it's a bit long.

15- Write about your ship spending a lazy afternoon together. 

"Welp, looks like we'll take swings straight from the bottle this time."

"And why is that?" a voice came from behind, liced with mistrust. He knew you well — your habit of concealing information to avoid doing things you didn't want to do — thus the frequent clarifications. Could this man let you off the hook at least once?!

"That's because we're out of wine glasses Jim." you clarified facing back, your eyes not landing on a single suitable glassware usually stored in the kitchen cabinets.

"No we aren't, they're just all placed in the sink" grumbled Jimmy, too preoccupied with the cork jammed tight in the wine bottle to look at you "But you must first wash them. I'm sure two glasses won't tire you out completely."

You frowned at your boyfriends words, being aware of the pilling tower sitting in your kitchen sink. "No way I'm touching that today. I'm too tired after work, even for something as "simple" as that. I say we settle settle for the mugs!"

"And I don't have a say in this huh?"

"If you keep this up, I'll pull out the plastic cups. Or we could go back to original plan if you want." you jokingly threatened Jimmy, a clink of two different mugs setting on the counter emphasizing your point.

Now it was Jimmy's turn to roll his eyes "Fine. I swear you're the laziest person on the planet Earth that I've ever met. At least cut all the cheese and fruit we bought" and with that, a loud muffled pop of the cork escaping bottle's neck resounded in the room.

"Yessir!" you beamed, switching to look for a clean knife and cutting board this time.

Some time later.

After two thirds of wine bottle drained, the alcohol worked it's magic on your tired bodies and minds. You were slugged against one another on the couch, movie Jimmy put on becoming a noise in the background with colourful flashes here and there illuminating your figures in the dark room.

Despite overheating under the blanket wrapped around, you still leaned into Jimmy's warm side, his toned arm looping around to support you from falling over to his lap. Under normal circumstances, he would let you rest there, let you bury your face in his stomach, while combing through your hair with his free hand. But now he just didn't want you to lie on the snack plate you prepared, which was currently occupying your beloved resting space.

Not that you minded too much: you took plump sweet grape from the plate with your fingers and brought it to Jimmy's lips. His attention was pointed at colourful scenes playing out, however he did open his mouth ajar, enough for the fruit to fit. Next you scooped up a small square of diced cheese, then apple, and repeated the process again with different item each time until it was grapes again.

"Hey, I put this movie on for us to watch. Focus" scolded Jimmy lightly while not breaking away from the screen, his hand moving the plate away from your reach.

"To be honest, this movie is boring as hell. Something at my side is constantly distracting me...." you admitted with a sigh, taking his hand in yours.

You could feel a rumble coming from Jimmy's chest as he could already predict your answer, the corner of his mouth twitching just a bit.

"Let me take a wild guess: that something is me?"

"You're so cute when you're intoxicated. And I've missed you."

"I'd prefer if you called me handsome, stunning or just good looking." Listed Jimmy with a smirk on his lips. Despite the darkness in the room, you could tell with 100% certainly that his cheek were few shades darker now from the wine. "And besides, we hadn't seen each other for 9 hours. That's not a lot, believe me."

You clumsily circled your arms around Jimmy's torso under the blanket, sliding down to push your head against his side. There was truth to Jimmy's words you didn't want to accept nor admit: seeing each other all the time would quickly tire you both out. Those moments like this — afternoons, evenings and nights — were things you looked forward to and cherished dearly. Nether of you could imagine coming back to a place called home, with a loving person waiting for your return. You've dreamt about this for so long, and now finally you got to live out your dream...

"I know that look. You always get so sentimental when you're drunk, I can already tell what goes through that stupid head of yours" your face was sloppily lifted by Jimmy's calloused fingers, squishing your plump soft skin "Just don't think about anything unimportant and doze off. I'll take care of stuff around the house." This probably meant switching off the tv and hiding the remaining food. But also your boyfriend carrying you back to bed, carefully laying your head on your pillow and tucking you with the comforter. Like he always did.

Tears begun to well in your eye but you've blinked them away — you were truly grateful for the things you had, Jimmy knew that already. "Yeah, you're right Jim, I could use some sleep. Good night then..." you muttered, finally closing your eyes and letting sleep take it's hold of you. The sounds around you toned down until it was quiet enough for your mind to slip away.

Last thing you felt was a soothing motions of a hand slowly running up and down from your shoulder to your back.

"...good night to you too. Have a sweet dream."

[what-gs-watching]

“Breathe it in baby, because I am EXUDING and I am one of a kind.”

Okay so, I fell behind in Doctor Who because I’ve been job searching for like seven fucking months and a few weeks ago one came up that could be a good fit so I was trying to super focus on doing well through the interview loop even though I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to amount to anything because I’d gone through a ton of interview loops by that point but 

Y’ALL, I GOT THAT JOB! My horrible, soul-sucking ordeal is finally over, the paperwork is signed and I have a start date and everything has settled. Which means, I can finally catch up on 15 and my girl Ruby. 

Let’s gooooo!

73 Yards

Alright, I know there was upset around this episode because everyone is like ‘what the eff does it mean?’ but ooooh, I really enjoyed it. It was creepy as HELL and it just never stopped.

Wherein, Ruby and the Doctor pop over to Wales (this mofo really spends much too much time in Wales) and while on a cliffside, he steps on something AGAIN!!!!! and everything goes wrong.

Baby boy, did you not learn anything from the mine? Do you not take a scan around when you land somewhere, or are you just too excited about being adorable in your little yellow jacket and the hat and the stripes? You look fantastic, I get it, but peep down at those cute ass boots once in a while. 

I have to say, I’m impressed by Millie Gibson in this episode. It’s a lot of pressure to put on her to carry the entire thing, and she did it really well. How devastating is it to have your best friend disappear, realize you’re being followed by some crazy apparition that literally scares anyone and everyone away from you? 

Without any explanation. That’s the part that gets me. She becomes a piranha with this horrific THING attached to her and everyone she begs for help leaves her. Eve her MOTHER! It’s a mind fuck.

And I really wasn't sure where the episode was going, so I was excited for Kate Lethbridge-Stewart to show up, I was like ‘yeah let’s get UNIT into this mess’ and then she’s affected too and oh hell, that’s like, the last line of defense. 

Ruby, completely and utterly alone. And they just make her live out her entire life like that. And she tries to fix it, of course, the whole thing with the Welsh politician was a really good attempt babe, I would have done the same thing but then that doesn’t even work?!

And so everyone is all ruffled because, what was the point of it, really? What was the message, what was the meaning??!

Was she actually the apparition? If not, who was she? And then, it just ends and none of it ever really happened at all and there’s absolutely no resolution. 

Why do we love making companions live these horrible alternate timelines? How many times did we make Amy live different lives? I feel like she at least remembered most of them. But with Ruby in this one, there’s no lesson. She learns nothing, neither of them do.

But still, I loved the creeping sense of unease, so I guess I don’t really need all the details.

Dot and Bubble

I’m simultaneously annoyed and intrigued by shows that keep telling me allegories about the dangers of technology and how dependent we are on it. So far, it’s mostly been annoyed, but oh my god y’all really hit the nail on the head with this one.

Wherein, a bunch of privileged youths are existing in a perfect society that enables them to basically LIVE social media, literally surrounded by a bubble that feeds them other people’s inanity all day long. 

One thing I have to say about this episode is that the angles are something else. Lindy, the girl we’re seeing everything through is alternately absolutely beautiful, and kind of weird looking? She’s got perfect social media face. Is that a weird thing to say? I stand by it. It’s like she’s covered in the perfect ring light. It was distracting. And probably part of the point. 

Basically, this girl has no idea that there are monsters in her fake ass society that are eating her friends, and she is very not into the Doctor and Ruby trying to help her. Like, they’re trying to get her out of danger, only to find out that she doesn’t have any idea how to walk without wearing her ‘bubble’ is so deeply disturbing. Watching this girl say “forward” to convince herself to move is amazing and upsetting on a lot of different levels. 

And then out of nowhere, media star Ricky September shows up and he literally starts giving her directions like the bubble would do and I’m like ‘okay that’s interesting’, we’re subverting the idea that this incredibly popular personality is a vapid idiot because it turns out he READS and he’s taking pity on this girl that is literally a shell of a person without the aid of technology. And it was so sweet. 

Basically, this episode is infuriating because at one point Lindy hugs Ricky and tells him she’s never been hugged before (even though we know she at least has a mother) but THEN later, when the Doctor tells her everyone is being killed in alphabetical order and Ricky is trying to fight off the dot that is literally trying to murder her, she RATS HIM OUT. His real last name starts with C, he should be dead already. 

Confusingly innocent and absolutely cut throat at the same time? I guess if you live your entire life exclusively online you don’t go through things that would actually cultivate compassion? Which honestly, is not an unfounded idea. That should make y’all feel queasy. 

And to make it all exponentially worse, they flat out tell the Doctor they can’t accept his help because he’s not “one of us”. Just straight up, really gross, really overt racism. 

15, honey, I get it, but please  don’t beg racists to let them save you. You’re too good for this world, babes. That gut wrenching shout though? Absolute perfection. And the tears. You marvelous thing. 

TL;DR Humanity is disgusting and technology will continue to feed our uglier tendencies. I felt that one deep in my damn bones.

Rogue

Okay hear me out. This episode is EVERYTHING. 

Y’all know I have a thing for boys in love. And I also have a thing for the Doctor flirting with basically anyone. I don’t particularly have a thing for the regency era necessarily, but I AM about incredible costumes and ridiculous plots. 

I was honest to god squealing this entire episode.

Wherein, 15 and Ruby show up to a ball in 1813 so they can pretend they’re in Bridgerton, meet a handsome young bounty hunting rake, talk a LOT about cosplaying, and deal with bird???! aliens???

There are a million details I loved in this one. The orchestra playing an instrumental version of “Bad Guy” and then later “Pokerface”. The absolutely incredible suit they put on 15. 

Not to mention: JONATHAN GROFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Loved him in Mindhunter, loved him in Glee (before it got absolutely ridiculous and when I didn’t know any better) but holy shiiiiiit I would watch him as Rogue every. damn. day. 

River Song will always and forever be my number one love for the Doctor, but I was absolutely immediately charmed by Rogue. I’m not sure why, and it doesn’t really matter. 

How absolutely adorable was the psychic paper displaying “you’re hot”? Or the bit where the Doctor figures out Rogue’s ship is wired for sound and the system blares “Can’t Get Your Outta My Head” and he lip syncs along while Rogue dies of embarrassment? 

The entire episode was just two dorks flirting and my heart was so happy. I don’t know why, but when 15 started singing “Pure Imagination” while showing Rogue around the Tardis, I thought I was going to die. 

I love that he can be so carefree and fun and adorable, but also extremely emotional and unafraid to show it. We’ve seen so many different facets of 15 already, and his obvious and silly flirty self is definitely my favorite part so far. 

Also, the fact that the Chuldur (again, bird aliens I guess? Sure) were basically just a race that went around cosplaying other people was so camp. I’ve seen a lot of posts about how the newest theory is that 15 and Ruby are somehow in some weird sort of tv show universe this season, and this episode definitely fuels that a little bit. 

And maybe y’all are onto something with that, but I honestly don’t care to figure out what’s going on, I just want to be along for the ride.

Of course though, we can’t have an episode that’s all fun and games. The Doctor went all in on shooting his shot with Rogue and it distracted him and it put Ruby in trouble, because of course. Maybe we should stop promising random mothers that their kids are gonna be safe? Doctor, baby, you know that they aren’t always going to be safe. 

But if you weren’t charmed by Rogue before that point, you had to jump on his bandwagon when he pushes Ruby out of the transport trap and just says “Find me” before he’s blasted away with the stupid birds to some far off dimension. 

BALLER MOVE, baby boy. Baller ass move. Because ya know what? 15 is not going to be able to resist that. And you know how I know? Because that boy put your ring on his finger and I will ship the fuck out of you two forever and ever because of that. 

The doctor has definitely been known to  kiss people he’s only just met, but this time might be in the top 3. I thought Madame de Pompadour was good? Nah girl, ya bumped down. This kiss was better. Just me sat on the couch with heart eyes for days.

So yeah, I think I’ve decided I like letting a few stack up so I can watch them in a row. Watching them boomerang between crazy scenarios and thinking about all of that at the same time is more fun. 

I’m loving this season. It’s ridiculous, it’s different, it’s a bunch of things I didn’t even realize I wanted. Gimme more pleaaaaase.

[canmom]

proceduralism

continuing to read about TTRPGs (today has been a TTRPG blog reading sort of day)

if you read my RPG posts - well first, thanks!! I'm glad someone does x3 - but also you might notice that my reference pool of games is... kinda old, innit. story games like Apocalypse World, Burning Wheel, Microscope, Fiasco etc. on the one hand, the OSR milieu on the other, Chuubo's and other Jennagames on the third hand, D&D on the fourth - these games are all at least a decade old, they've spawned countless successors, etc. etc. I'm not with the times!!

partly that's because a lot of the more recent games I've looked at have seemed pretty derivative of paradigms that were established during the 2010s. there's a lot of PbtAs. a lot of lasers and feelings hacks. and often the first game made the most definitive statement. I have yet to find a PbtA game that reads half so strikingly as Apocalypse World itself.

when you've read enough RPG books it's easy enough to be like 'ok this is a dice pool game with some PbtA-style inter-player character creation dynamics' and just focus on some more nebulous question of like, whether the prose and prompts given are evocative at all, or if they have some cool new specific subsystem. there is a danger there of being too dismissive - maybe these familiar components bring out something new in synergy. I look at thirsty sword lesbians and wonder what the point of it is (I don't need a book to make my character a lesbian, and it seems a bit corny to make a book that's just telling you how gay you are over an otherwise standard fantasy scenario), but I ask someone who's actually played it and she explains it's essentially a vessel for IRL flirting. it didn't occur to me that a game could be that! suddenly it makes sense.

but like, I want to know what the next big paradigms are, now that the previous movements are kinda-sorta dead.

so what's the hot new thing? the next major paradigm?

one answer seems to be something called 'proceduralism'. i was vaguely aware of this trend from games like Blades in the Dark (also now quite old, published 2017) with a clear session structure - you use these rules in downtime and these rules while on the job, essentially making the 'loop' of the game more explicit. but I didn't have a name for it. now I do!

Prismatic Wasteland (I can't find any other name for this author, so I'll use the name of the blog) defines the difference between 'procedure' and 'rule' based on whether they 'provide the order of operation for a game and structure play', with most of them being loops. the D&D combat turn is a procedure. in Blades in the Dark, the whole session is a procedure. this provides a framework for other rules, like actions you can take, to fit into.

since I'm a programmer, I would describe this as essentially the state machine of the game.

you can cast the basic 'loop' of certain types of trad RPG (particularly, OSR games) as an implicit procedure - the post there goes into some detail about the parallels and differences between this and the more trad end of story games like AW.

as an example of a proceduralism-oriented design from the same author, we've got this frame for 'social combat', to provide a context and direction for roleplaying with a bit of dice rolling to make the outcome determined by dice rather than the GM's whim.

the prompt-writing duel system I wrote back in 2021 is in retrospect a "procedural" design for a specific scenario that might come up in a game. the game I was responding to, The King is Dead by the usual suspects (vincent and meguey baker), is essentially a collection of such scenario-specific minigames - they don't loop for the most part, but they still fit Prismatic's definition.

anyway, I'm not sure that's a new paradigm per se - a whole lot of what the story games were doing was playing around with procedures for things like scene framing and so forth. but, as with all things, having something to focus on inspires creativity.

(all RPG design is in a sense iterative - we're taking small hops around the space of all possible RPGs into unexplored corners, looking for what vibes. we might keep the setting and role of characters but change some of the procedures for how they act. or we might use a familiar framework on an unfamiliar scenario. whenever designers' and players' focus moves to messing with something new, particularly something I hadn't even realised we were taking for granted, I think it's interesting. this is an art form of constant evolution and reinvention - never let it settle!)

edit to add: another, more detailed explication of 'proceduralism'

[veerbles]

thoughts about dream thieves (and some predictions!)

After probably almost a decade of thinking to myself, I’m an adult who’d like to read more and also enjoys YA, I should finally pick up TRC, I finally picked up TRC. I finished Raven Boys and immediately started Dream Thieves, so I didn’t pause to gather my thoughts on the first one, but here I am now. Ready to unleash several K’s of words by using my limited information to analyze characters and make some predictions that may or may not come true.

• I really enjoy the whole magical-realism, bordering-on-alternate-dimensions theme, but I’m SO SORRY Cabeswater gives me the creeps. I can read context clues and infer from the fact that Blue and Gansey both love it that it’s not meant to be sinister? Probably? But like, talking forests and time loops and magical possessions have, in the history of literature, revealed ulterior motives. I’m mostly side-eyeing the way Adam’s sacrifice to Cabeswater immediately derailed his life and mental stability. It might just be an Adam thing. It’s probably an Adam thing. But like, if I were these kids I’d be a biiiit more wary of the scary time-defying magical land I stumbled upon.

• The sudden emphasis on how time is circular kind of came out of nowhere. There was definitely a point made in the first book about how time doesn’t flow the same way inside Cabeswater, but mid-second book the nonlinearity of time was suddenly a huge thing and all the Sargent seers made a point of how every prophecy is something that both happened already and hasn’t happened yet. I’m totally down with some time-fuckery, but I would’ve liked some more build-up. Also, is this meant to play into Blue’s prophecy? Adam’s visions? Gansey’s fate? Glendower’s fate?

• I was preparing myself for a long, drawn-out love triangle B-plot, and I’m glad it didn’t happen. I couldn’t tell if I missed some subtext and Blue’s intense attraction to Adam faded before their fight at his room, or if it was a direct result of it, but I like that their thing (he called her his girlfriend and I was kind of like… is she? Who established that?) was short and not too well-developed. I think it mostly served as a lesson that Blue can influence her fate, but she can’t run from it (“Why couldn’t it be Adam?”). 

• Also, I think the marketing of the first book did it a HUGE disservice. I have nothing against romance as a main plot and maybe I would have enjoyed that as well, but adventure and the found family trope have a much stronger pull. Was really glad the romantic relationships aren’t really the main focus (at least yet?).

• On the same note, these books are so far really good with show not tell. The numerous unspoken hints about the Blue/Gansey attraction did such a good job making me root for them. The slow progression from Gansey caring an inordinate amount about how Blue views him, to Blue dedicating large chunks of her time analyzing him and trying to figure out all of his layers, to Gansey definitely growing aware of his feelings but not doing anything explicit because of Adam… The boat scene with Orla was pure comedy, lmao. Tell me you’re 16/17 years old without telling me you’re 16/17 years old.

• The Blue/Adam “break up” scene was so good because it evoked true emotions in me. I think a reasonable percentage of teenage girls were once The One Girl in a group of guys, and Blue’s feelings of being treated differently because she’s a girl really hit right where it hurt. I think Adam’s inability to understand that she wants to be his friend first and a love interest later was so real. I also do think that this scene brought up multiple points and maybe Blue’s character would have benefitted from addressing each of them separately, even just in her own head. She feels left out because she’s a girl, and she feels he only views her as a Girl and not as a friend; she’s wary of his anger issues and feels she doesn’t know him; she has feelings for Gansey; she has an ominous prophecy hanging over her head. Ultimately, her saying he’s not “the one” is what hurt him most, because she hit him directly in the insecurities, but it wasn’t really the most interesting or impactful point. Who is Blue Sargent and what does she really want in a relationship (or in general?)

• I have a hot take, but don’t kill me for this. …Adam gives off real Peter Pettigrew vibes. I’M SO SORRY. I really hope he gets more character development later on, because right now he’s straight on the path to evil villain. Or, okay, maybe he veered off that path after his talk with Persephone and their quest to fix the ley line, but for a minute there I was like… My guy, I get where you’re coming from, but you’re slowly gnawing on the leg that you used to stand on. It’s okay to be mad at the world because you were handed a worse hand of cards, and it’s okay to want to climb your way up to prove your own worth. But a minute ago your whole point was that you HAD worth, and now you’re acting out because you feel worthless? Adam’s getting eaten away by his insecurities and thinking/saying/doing really uncool things to his friends, and it’s just Not It. At this point of time, I personally would not have made him Secret-Keeper of the house I’m hiding in.

• Direct follow up: Honestly? Gansey should punch someone. As a treat. Gansey certainly has flaws, but he’s also certainly the most self-aware of the whole bunch. He is continuously harder on himself than anyone else is hard on him, and trying to make things right, and he’s kind of getting stepped on by his best friends. Adam stole his most prized possession and sneaked away to do exactly what Gansey didn’t want to do on GANSEY’S search quest, and then took the offer of networking but spit it back in Gansey’s face, and admitted he’s going to fight Gansey for Glendower’s favor because he thinks he deserves it more. Ronan ALSO stole his most prized possession after letting Gansey clean up his messes, and didn’t even really apologize? Like, it’s somehow okay because after he stole it he wrecked it and then dreamed it back? Nah dude. It wasn’t okay you took it to begin with! Now, I definitely think it’s not a black-and-white situation; Adam brings up plenty of good points in his arguments, and Ronan, to the best of my recollection, never asked to be cleaned up after. They’re both super traumatized and Gansey chose to stick by their sides through that. But everybody else gets to lash out and make stupid decisions and I, personally, think Richard C. Gansey III should pull a teenage boy move and punch one of his best friends. Which one is up to him. The punch can be metaphorical.

• This book focused mainly on Ronan and Adam’s journeys, and I have to say I loved the night terrors as a symbol of self-loathing. But I remain unsure about Ronan himself. Unlike Adam I don’t think he’s doing villain-y things, but he’s definitely doing very normal teenaged self-destructive things. And that’s fine. It's expected. But it’s also not really productive to self-acceptance? Which he somehow reached at least partially by the end of this book anyway? My point being, Ronan kind of lost it when Gansey was gone and went on a weird dreamer-bender and took all kinds of suspicious drugs and made all kinds of bad decisions, and I expected that to have ramifications. He didn’t really face any of his self-hatred or made efforts to be a better friend. He did kind of face (literally) his grief over his father, which is obviously huge, but I would have liked him to take down some of those walls, be vulnerable, apologize? Face some of his obvious inner homophobia? Anything before that wholesome ending. I guess I just stay hopeful that it’d happen in the next two books.

• On that note, the whole goddamn Lynch family needs therapy. What the fuck. Hated Declan significantly less than the last book, but all three of them should get some professional help for their asses. Their mother is a dream? Ronan’s new friend’s mother is dating his father’s murderer?? Ronan’s dad kicked him out of his home on the heels of his tragic death to teach him some lesson about… dreaming??? So much shit happened in this book. However: loved the idea of Ronan having an actual parent and functioning sibling relationship now. Hopefully, that would do some good for everybody involved.

• Very happy at the subtle queer themes and foreshadowing that led up to Ronan’s very understated sexuality revelation. I could smell it coming from a mile away without it being spelled out for me, which is good: it means it was written into his character really well. I was both thrilled and kind of confused by some of the Adam/Ronan hints in this book, though. Ronan… slept on the floor by Adam’s bed…? ("Surely he would wake up soon and find himself [...] lying on the floor beside Adam’s bed at St. Agnes.") This was literally mentioned in one line and then never again. And he doesn’t spend too much time thinking of Adam, but somehow the epilogue still explicitly states that his secret is Adam and not his sexuality as a whole. I’m rooting for them, but I’ll need more convincing in later books that this apparent crush didn’t spring out of nowhere. 

• On the subject of themes I didn’t see coming, the redemption arc for The Gray Man with the gray morality surprised me. It’s not that I’ve never read or enjoyed books where this subject was explored, I just didn’t expect it to happen in this book series. It seems to me like so far every character we’re supposed to root for is very clearly that, and evil characters give off hints in advance. Gray Man definitely did some dubious things in this book, even if you disregard the killing itself, so I expected his ending to line up with that. I guess it still might? Truthfully I find the subject of responses to trauma and how it affects your moral compass very interesting, and I’m definitely into characters’ redemption arcs, but I just don’t know if romantic entanglement with a known dissociative killer is a smart thing for a mother of a sixteen-year-old. If the Gray Man drove away at the end and started a new, less-violent life, I’d be far less conflicted. But he very clearly stated his attachment to Henrietta, which just… leaves me mostly confused. 

• Speaking of, I love how a major theme of this odd little magical book is how different people handle childhood trauma (Adam, Ronan, Gray Man). No further notes, just love it.

• I also really like that adults are directly involved in this story, instead of being intentionally kept out of the loop like in most YA stories. In the majority of the YA books I’ve read I really felt like 70% of the problems could be solved by a whole ass grown up swooping in instead of letting a bunch of kids handle real life-endangering shit all by themselves. The 300 Fox Way women are certainly a specific breed of adults, but they are adults, and they do intervene when needed and are kept mostly informed. It’s a nice change of pace. 

Predictions! 

• Going to quickly mention my only real point of criticism and then move on. The dialogue in this book isn’t very realistic, and the clear preference for dramatic chapter endings is a little excessive. I can forgive the dialogue issue, because it does help create the atmosphere that this isn’t a real place in the real world but a magical and intriguing town in some mystery land, but I don’t know if this is what the author actually intended. In every other way, the kids are all pretty well fleshed-out and realistic depictions of teenagers. But every time they open their mouths I think: this is not how a natural conversation sounds. And the dramatic chapter cliffhangers isn’t terrible, because it does keep my interest, but I think it’s fine to have a few chapters not ending with a dramatic one-liner, lol.

Gansey is a reincarnation of Glendower’s. This is not a certain one, but if it’s not true I feel like it’s a missed opportunity. Gansey is constantly described as “both very old and very young”. He died, but mysteriously didn’t die. He has this connection to Glendower and for some reason connects his sense of self to him. It would tie in to the theme of nonlinear time. I think it could be a good ending for this journey, a la “the thing you were looking for was in yourself all along”.

Gansey answering with “That’s all there is” will have more meaning later on. It could be that dialogue thing again, but I found it to be a weird response in the context of that scene. Since I am of the firm belief that this is all heading to a Blue/Gansey kiss, Gansey dying and then undying, and Blue somehow walking him back down that corpse road, I feel like that quote could maybe tie in to that future scene.

Is Adam’s vision really “gone”? In the scene where Adam makes peace with his powers and returns to Cabeswater he remembers the vision from the dreaming tree and thinks: "That wasn’t going to happen now. He’d changed his future. He’d chosen a different way." And I simply can't help but think that that's just... too easy. Why mention the vision so many times if it's not going to happen now? On the one hand, it would be far more interesting if it did happen, but it had a whole different connotation to it than Adam can currently imagine (he specifically says Gansey is dying, not dead.) On the other hand, it does seem like that vision fits in the reality where Gansey dies back in the first book on Neeve's pentagon, if Adam hadn't rushed in and made the sacrifice. I just feel like it's going to make a comeback.

Noah should not be a ghost. There was not once a good explanation for why this happened. Because he died on the ley line? Presumably, if the ley line runs through the US, many people die on the ley line. Gansey’s backstory is that he came back to life from those hornet stings because someone else who should not have died has died. But Noah is like. Not exactly dead? I’m assuming this will need to be addressed later on and serve as some sort of plot resolution.

Persephone has a connection to Cabeswater. She essentially told Adam that she was in his place once (“They won’t understand,” Persephone said. “They didn’t when I came back.”). That lady has something weird going on with her and this tell me it will have some sort of connection to Cabeswater. She kind of gives off the vibes of someone who will get forever lost in a magical forest. Also I feel like maybe one of the psychics won’t make it out alive, and I dread it’d be her or Maura.

Artemus is definitely a Cabeswater creature. I think this was almost explicitly stated? He appeared suddenly and disappeared suddenly? Almost like the surges and outages the ley line causes? Also, I don't remember the specifics from the first book but I think Maura needed Neeve's help to find him because he was in that "place where they can't see", or something like that - presumably Cabeswater. Also, his story does not give human.

[level30lawn]

i have another isat thought now that i've rewatched the epilogue

in a lot of fanfic i've read loop ends up being stronger than siffrin (in battle, to be clear; neither of these bitches got emotional fortitude) and i think that's kinda underselling siffrin a lil bit. it's kinda hard for me to tell if it woulda been a fair fight had siffrin been at 100%, but we know at least that loop never beat the king (even if the king in sasasap is harder than in isat)

like, in the act 6 fight siffrin gets dropped down to his level from the end of act 4 (minus his Just Attack craft), which is a couple hours after he's been frozen in time, emotionally beat to hell (maybe almost releasing a sadness imo but that's a different headcanon), feverish from excess craft use, and had an emotional crisis-catharsis double feature. point is he aint clockin 100%. also it's a pretty safe bet that sif isn't playing for keeps in that fight anyway, since he wants to talk to loop and thank them, not ice them

in my gut of guts i feel like loop is getting the rouxles caard treatment (in that because they're a fan favorite they get treated as cooler/stronger than they are in fan media (not to say that loop isn't cool or interesting or whatever just that i think they pull focus a lot)) and i wish they wouldn't

[not-the-dum-e]

Definitely gonna need to read lyrics for these songs, the music is so interesting.

Drum Beat

Straight off, great choice for title track, it's such a catchy, feel good song that sets up the pace for the rest of the album.

Onew's rapping is so good in this, it suits the song perfectly a highlight on a song full of great moments.

I love the outro, that kinda talky bit at the end sounds so nice I don't even know why but hm, hits just right.

I wish it was longer, I could listen to a five minute version of it, but I will have to settle for looping it ┐⁠(⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠)⁠┌

Hola!

The vocal melody in the beginning of the verses reminds me a lot of latin american pop from the 70s and 80s. It's such a strange thing to me because the song instrumental itself (sans the percusion) is very different, taking sounds more specific to bosa nova, at least that is what it sounds like to me, I had not heard that combination before and gives me a strange sense of familiarity and nostalgia (at this point I was interrupted by Onew's live lol)

Made me wonder if the latin influence is on purpose, since the title is hola, if so 10/10 executed perfectly. Why haven't i heard any latin american artists do something like this?(if anyone has any recs for something that has this same kind of sound, in any language, but specially spanish please let me know)

Maestro

Contender for favorite on the album from the first listen, the bass line, the syncopation and how spacious? the chorus sounds. Floaty, idk you get what I'm saying?

The robotic voice too just fits the mood, the entire song is full of so many textures and layers, pulling forward and falling back, it's so engaging.

It reminds me a little of MGMT's Little Dark Age, but with the added charm of melodic breaks that are more grounded.

To say that I love it is just not enough.

Shape of My Heart

There is this sound in the background, that sounds to me like someone is carving/shaving ice? or perhaps sharpening a blade, i need lyrics for this one haha.

Either way the piano chords sound kinda out of tune at times, like a really old piano; or perhaps it's like a distortion —like the piano is coming in and out of focus, some chords are rattly, out of tune. This song has a lot of interesting stuff going on in the background.

The outro though, it feels like suddenly everything is finally sorted out, every element fits together by the end, the vocal melody, the chords on the piano stop sounding distorted, and it all sounds melodic and sweet. Also those backing harmonies to boost that feeling of order and peace, where before everything was extremely chaotic, going in and out of focus.

It sounds like resolution, i really need the lyrics for this one. I looped it a lot just to get this down, it's such an interesting sounding song.

월화수목금토일 (All Day)

Now I've been listening to this one quite a lot since it came out, and it still is such a feel good kinda song, which seems to be a thread through this whole album, it's so catchy no wonder he picked it for a pre-release.

It showcases his vocals beautifully, what else can I say?

Focus

The synths, the dramatic rests, come on.

I think Shape of My Heart took most of my brain power cause I'm struggling to come up with more than that, but it's a great song, great closer.

The instrumentals in the whole album compliment his voice perfectly, I can't imagine how hard it was to pick the title, half the songs in the album could be strong contenders for title.

I do wish the songs were a bit longer though, but that is just a teeny tiny thing, really.

I keep thinking about it and there is a lot of joy in this album, idk why i got that impression, because it's not like all the songs are happy, maybe it's just Beat Drum, All Day, and Hola!.

I love it so much.

It is just as 'Onew like' as Circle, even though it is so different.

I hadn't really realized how much I had missed him during this hiatus, and it seems to have hit me all at once now. I'm so happy that he is back and maybe that plays a role on it too.

It does seem like the ten months of rest did wonders for him and I can feel a huge amount of joy in the music. He seems to be really happy to be back making music again, and it shows in every second of this album.

He really seems to know how to express himself through music, and it's just wonderful to be here to witness it💖

[theroleplayclassifieds]

🎤 I know this is an impossible ask at this point... but I'm still asking if someone's looking to write KERRY EURODYNE of CYBERPUNK 2077?

long story even longer; I'm seeking for your Kerry Eurodyne against my male V. m x m, cis men, I come equipped with a lil bio (available on my blog) for my version of our infamous MC. looking for themes of persevering at the face of hardship, two men with the complication of the threat of death / Johnny fuckin Silverhand / a rockstar life / age gap / a lifetime of loss and disappointment / Kerry's bipolar mental health on their shoulders putting in effort to make things work. pretty much a 70-30 divide on most of the focus being on Kerry, with V basically being his support character and love interest.

important deets:

↠

•would adore a long-time writing partner; I’ve been known to commit to a ship for months and months if our chemistry is good! I also often draw my ships and am often open for art trades, wink wonk.

•25+ only! I myself am 33, he/him, trans guy. European, but I don’t care about your location; my schedule is wack and unpredictable anyway, so I’ll be online at varying times.

• all characters will be not only 18+, but 30+.

•I’d LOVE a minimum of a few replies a week, but I’m definitely okay with occasional longer pauses. life happens and as long as I'm kept in the loop about potential slow responses, I'm pretty chill. depending on how my schedule is, I can either do multiple a day or a few a week, so I’m good with either from you.

•third person / past tense / multiple paragraphs preferred. I tend to write very long posts and, though I don't expect you to always match my length, I do at least require equal effort. I come equipped with writing samples!

•I prefer to write on discord, on a shared server, where we can sort all our stuff and threads - but I am open to side blogs on Tumblr if that's more your speed. whether we do or don't use Tupperbox is up to you.

•open to AUs, multiple threads, several timelines, crossovers, most things! definitely game to fill in the world with side characters and I'm happy to write Johnny in V's head on the side. I’m very flexible, as long as we’re both inspired and enthusiastic.

•NOT looking to double up as a default. I'm definitely game to do multiple different ships with one partner, but don't approach me with the assumption of doubling up.

•communication is key! I’m very open with what I have going on, hope you can be too.

•I'm definitely okay with darker subject matters. I however am not interested in glorifying SA or the such, nor do I care for toxic relationships. I prefer a redemption arc and people fighting through obstacles and perservering at the face of peril together over writing them being actively bad for each other. "us against the world", rather than "us against each other.”

•NSFW / smut desired, open to both slow burn as well as "love at first sight" kind of scenarios. again, AUs galore.

↞

is that it? probably not. but, I'll be happy to expand over DMs. so, like this post and I'll come fetch you, or feel free to check out my blog in case it's a potential match! don't be shy; I'll let you look over my stuff first and you can decide if I'm for you.

please only reach out if you're genuinely interested; it's a drought out here. 😔 ✧ 🎤