#but every time anything with the other Terry was mentioned i thought it was like. a stylistic choice

[valcubust]

meet TJ! the new alpha (they/them blease)

go read Blood Moon !!! Its amazing!!! (by @barbwritesstuff)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤

Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.

Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

[ingravinoveritas]

Follow-up to this post and a point-by-point recap of last night's events:

- Definitely thought I would be nervous, but as soon as I saw Neil waiting backstage from the vantage of my fourth row seat, all that went away.

- The event was a tribute to Ray Bradbury, with Neil and several actors reading different short stories and Neil talking about them in between. He started off the night by talking about being a TikTok meme ("Neil Gaiman, why are you in my falafel?") and how his time as a meme was almost up.

- There was an after party in the bar following the show, and the ticket I had purchased allowed me to attend. I didn't even realize Neil was there yet because he was so low profile and just chilling while a line began to form at his table.

- When I went up to him, he was very smiley and kind and soft-spoken. I mentioned really enjoying the Bradbury story he read ("The Homecoming") because it felt like an allegory for autism, for an autistic person in a family full of neurotypicals, and it really resonated with me. So we talked Ray Bradbury and writing and it was lovely. - I also mentioned the tweets from a few years ago (here and here) that involved him commenting on a photo of me in a red bikini and me offering to cook him dinner if he came to New Jersey, and he remembered! Haha. He also still seemed very interested in the offer and said, "It's a date" and "We'll do dinner." Oh, Neil... - At the end, I somehow finally remembered to tell him my name and said "I'm Amy" as we shook hands. To which he replied, "It's lovely to meet you, Amy. I'm Neil." - After we took the picture, I wished Neil a good flight (the venue staff said they were trying to hurry up the queue because he had an early flight today) and safe travels, and he said "Thank you!" and was again so sweet and lovely and just a person. - Didn't talk to Neil about anything Good Omens, but I did end up chatting with a woman who knows Rob Wilkins (someone waiting in the queue asked Neil how to get in touch with Rob and he pointed to this woman, so that was how I first became aware of her). Later on in the evening, after Neil left, we were on the other side of the bar and struck up a conversation about all things GO, Terry Pratchett, fandoms, Michael and David's chemistry, and much more. She also told me to follow her on Instagram and message her if I ever needed tips for navigating the overwhelm that is NYCC. A totally unexpected and thoroughly enjoyable conversation overall. - Also got to talk with Yetide Badaki (who was in American Gods and one of the actors who performed last night) and she was beyond lovely. I complimented her performance and said how it was "like Siri, but less creepy" and she burst out laughing and asked if she could put that in her résumé. Haha. The topic of autism came up and she said how it was so important to her and how there needs to be more awareness. I mentioned being a professional speaker and that I've done a TED talk on autism, and she said she wanted to watch it. Again, completely unexpected interaction, but so delightful and so much fun.

My overall thoughts and takeaway from this is that real life is very, very much different and not the same thing at all as online fandom. It was incredibly refreshing to see Neil and talk to him in a non-fandom context, and to see how gracious he was with every person in line (adults, kids, couples, all of it). He signed books, took pictures with people, and hugged fans who seemed to be sharing particularly emotional moments. I feel like the fandom tends to treat Neil like some kind of god, but for me, I truly enjoyed seeing and getting to meet him as a person--charming, intelligent, funny, polite, and just a bit awkward...

[alessiathepirate]

Ocean's Eleven

POKER: Rusty Ryan x fem!reader

Summary: As they go to pick Danny up she can't help but think about the moment she shared with Rusty after the heist.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

Warning: smoking, mentioned stealing, the usual Ocean's stuff, otherwise just fluff

•••

Months after the heist, during which they successfully robbed Terry Benedict from both his money and girlfriend - even if the last one was mainly Danny's job - she finally felt at ease. This afternoon Danny Ocean will be released from prison and with that the last task of the robbery will be done. Not like the robbery wasn't successful already - she became a rich woman, sure, but she wasn't a calm one. She won't be a calm one until Danny Ocean walks up to the car and gets in, so she can let go of the stressful thoughts she had since the day Ocean talked to her about the plan.

A plan with no casualities - her number one rule. She can sleep peacefully knowing she stole some rich guy's money, but not with the thought that because of some stupid mistake one of her friends went to jail for a lifetime.

"Are you ready to meet him again, Tess?" she asked the woman who was sitting behind her, while she was examining her every expression in the rearview mirror.

"Of course I am." was the answer she got and the answer that satisfied her doubts. Tess' voice was nervous but full of love and that was the proof of her love for Danny she needed.

They didn't say anything for a while. They just sat there in silence, looking at the gates of the prison where Danny was currently getting his stuff back and where Ryan was waiting while eating a hamburger.

God, she was hungry as well.

"You know, we should find Rusty a girl."

The sentence made her look away from the building and moments later her gaze was on the rearview mirror again, looking at Tess.

"You think so?"

What if he already has one?

She looked back at the building again, this time focusing on the man eating in front of the main gate. Maybe they just didn't make their relationship that obvious?

A proud smile creeped up on her face at the thought. Maybe they were just too happy living in their own little bubble, they never considered telling anyone around them.

"Yes, I think so."

If you knew...

And if you knew he has one since Bellagio.

Since Bellagio... Good God, she has to thank Danny he asked her to help them with the plan.

The night of the heist was the night of their first kiss and with that the night their relationship as lovers began. It happened after they got away with the money and after they all walked out to the fountain to enjoy the feeling of success. And that night they deserved to swim in pride, pulling off a stunt like that.

There they were, all of them. Enjoying that feeling, swimming in pride while looking at the fountain in complete silence - until the members of the gang started to walk away one by one. Except her - and Rusty.

"You know now that I think about it," she started, feeling like there is something she should say after that wild night, after all those glances of making sure the other is okay "I just robbed a casino without even knowing how to play poker."

He let out a chuckle and she realized this was probably the first time she heard him laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's kind of stupid, isn't it? I never really had the time to learn how to play."

"You are friends with Danny Ocean and you don't know how to play poker?"

She giggled at the thought as well, hiding her face in her palms as she leaned on the concrete banister.

"God, I'm horrible..."

"No, that means Terry Benedict is horrible. You stole his money from the casino and you've never been in a casino before in your whole life."

Rusty lit a cigarette and offered her one. She accepted it and after he lit hers as well, they continued their conversation.

"Besides, I can always teach you how to play."

"Yeah? You want me to join your little club?"

"No, I don't want you to join them. I'd teach you separately."

"Oh really?" she asked teasingly as she took a puff on her cigarette.

"Yes, I'm sure you'd be a talented player."

"What makes you say that?"

"You just robbed a casino, darling, that takes some serious skills."

Warmth was pooling in her stomach even though she was cold a few minutes ago. The dress she wore was pretty elegant, but the material was thin - yet it was something women with money to spend liked to wear. It was something she had to wear that night as well if she wanted to blend in and be the eyes of the gang, making sure everything goes smoothly.

"I'll think about it." she said even if she decided that she'll definitely sit down with Rusty and listen to his every word as he teaches her how to play poker.

And then suddenly they were standing closer to each other, arms slightly touching on the banister. She tried to concentrate on her cigarette and did her absolute best to ignore the contact and what it was doing to her.

She looked up at him as they were smoking in silence and her hands shook a little as the warmth in her stomach became stronger, not wanting to stop. She examined his expressions, his gestures, the way he was holding the cigarette and then she realized that she doesn't want to leave.

And then it just happened...

She wasn't sure how, she couldn't remember who leaned in first - the only thing she knew was that they were kissing right after Rusty turned to look at her after she was observing him for so long.

They were kissing and she had to grab his shoulder to not get completely lost in the feeling. Her cigarette fell into the water of the fountain from the sudden contact - from the sudden sweet and warm contact, what was surprisingly gentle. Gentle and kind, not fast, not rough, but patient.

One of his hands was on her waist and she was sure those were the most thoughtful and gentle touches she's ever felt.

"When do we start playing?" she asked quietly after their first ever kiss ended.

"Poker?"

"Sure."

"Whenever you want."

"Is tonight okay?"

Danny and Rusty were walking towards the car as she tried to hide her smile. She waved at Danny as they got closer.

"I stopped and picked up your personal effects. 'Hope you don't mind." she almost chuckled at Rusty's words and at Danny's reaction. There it is, Dan and Tess are together again, everything worked out alright, the world is finally at peace again.

She looked at Rusty knowingly as Danny sat next to Tess. They shared a smile.

"We need to get Rusty a girl." Tess said again as Rusty started the car.

"You hear this? They think you need to get a girl." she said as she looked at the rearview mirror only to see that the silver Sedar's engine was on.

"And you didn't tell them I already have one?"

If that question wasn't saying enough, then the quick kiss they shared definitely did. And even if she'll get way too many questions from her friends after this she'll answer them happily, knowing she hit the Jackpot when Danny Ocean asked her to help them and she said yes.

[redgoldsparks]

I've never won National Novel Writing Month, but I am participating for my 7th time (not consecutively) this year. In the past I've always enjoyed receiving the Pep Talks from published authors, which are essentially like letters of encouragement to all of the writers trying to pour out the first draft of a novel in a month. A few of the ones I read, especially in my first year of doing NaNo, really stuck with me so I was very delighted to be asked to contribute one this year. You can read my Pep Talk here on the NaNo site but I will also post the full text below the cut. And to anyone doing NaNo this year-- good luck and keep writing!

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

I wanted to be a writer long before I knew I had anything to say. 

I had a childhood immersed in stories. My parents took me to the local library every week, where I checked out stacks of fantasy novels. I would pick up any book with a dragon, elf, sword, castle, wizard, or spaceship on the cover and my heroes were the authors and illustrators of these magical worlds. 

At some point I started to wonder about these writers. Who were they? What were their lives like? I began to pay more attention to author’s notes and was astonished to discover that many authors I loved mentioned each other in their acknowledgements. In The Ladies of Grace Adieu, Susanna Clarke thanked Neil Gaimen, Terri Windling, Ellen Datlow, and Charles Vess. In Stardust, Gaimen thanked Clarke in return, and also Diana Wynne Jones. Ursula K Le Guin and Robin Hobb wrote blurbs for Patrick Rothfuss�� Name of the Wind. In Finder, Emma Bull thanked Terri Windling, Steven Brust, and her husband, Will Shetterly. Tamora Pierce, George RR Martin, Peter S Beagle and Kelly Link all blurbed books by Ellen Kushner, who thanked more people than I have space to name. 

Holy shit, I realized. All of these authors know each other! They’re friends! This was followed by a second thought: If I want to meet them, and especially if I want to be friends with them, maybe I should publish a fantasy novel myself. 

That realization gave me a new goal, but no specific pointers on how to pursue it. I started out as many young authors do: I began writing long fantasy narratives with orphaned protagonists, extremely derivative of the fantasy I’d read as a teen. During multiple successive NaNoWriMos I chipped away at a YA novel about a boy and a dragon. I started drawing a webcomic about a thief who tried to rob a monastery only to be foiled by a witch with the same plan. These stories had characters, settings, and some plot but what they didn’t have was themes. They didn’t ask any questions about what it means to be human, and they didn’t touch on any of the big concerns I was wrestling with in my personal life: gender, sexuality, and identity. 

It took the rather painful experience of a literary agent telling me my fantasy work was unpublishable before I set my early stories aside, stepped back, and changed the direction of my writing towards exploring the big, vulnerable themes I had been shying away from. 

What I discovered is that instead of making writing harder, facing these themes head-on made writing easier. In my earlier work I had frequently hit writing blocks, places in my outlining process where I felt like I was wading through mud. When I didn’t know what I was trying to say on a meta level with my story it was often hard to decide what should happen next at the plot level. I would send my characters from location to location, but I’d be unsure of what they should do there, because I was unclear on how their actions added up to a larger picture. That feeling of being stuck and uncertain over what should come next fell away when I started focusing more clearly on expressing my bigger themes. Suddenly the path forward felt smooth. All it took to follow it was bravery and persistence. 

I also achieved my initial goal in wanting to be a writer. I have now met and befriended many other authors, not the same set that I idolized as a teen, but different writers who are exploring many of the same themes and questions in their work as I do in mine. I have friends, colleagues, co-authors, and writing partners to thank in my acknowledgements– often more than I have space to name. 

During this month, I know many of you are focused solely on pouring out the words. That is very important, but I recommend you take some time to think about the larger themes of your story as well. What message, hope, fear, question, or truth are you trying to communicate to the world through your writing? I promise that clearly articulating your themes will help you tell your story and find the friends and writers who will become your community. 

Good luck, and know that I am writing alongside you, and rooting for you! 

Maia Kobabe, Fall 2023

[karatekels]

Ahh jealous Terry Silver please! I'd love to see a angry, possessive Silver. Imagine at some gala or business meet, Terry's much younger woman gets the attention of younger business men and he doesn't like it. Ending in something steamy when they get home 😏 if you're comfortable!

Sorry for the wait, anon! I'm happy to write this for you - I'm assuming you wanted CK Terry since you mentioned the age difference. I definitely got carried away with this one, but I hope you enjoy!

---

TW: Rough sex; elements of Dom/sub

Terry does get quite rough here (far darker than anything else I’ve written to date), but it’s all consensual. Still, feel free not to read if it makes you uncomfortable!

---

Prized Possession

---

You give your reflection a once-over in the mirror for the hundredth time, waiting for a knock at the door. You were in the most expensive outfit you’d ever worn – a stunning, royal blue dress, matching heels, and gorgeous jewelry, your hair curled and in an updo like a princess – prepared to go join your boyfriend at an important charity gala. This would be the first time that you would be accompanying Terry to an event like this, and to say you were nervous was an understatement. This was a big step in your relationship, and you were worried that you would stick out from the crowd like a sore thumb. You’d never understood what he’d seen in you, and you were worried that after tonight he’d see that you didn’t belong in his world after all.

You’re interrupted from your unpleasant thoughts by a knock at your door. Taking a deep breath, you grab your clutch and move to open it, expecting to greet Terry’s chauffeur. Instead, you find Terry himself on the other side of the door, dressed in a spectacular navy blue suit, his silver hair slicked back in its signature ponytail. Damn, but you were a lucky woman.

“Well hello, my dear,” Terry purrs seductively, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “You look absolutely stunning. Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm. You find yourself speechless and just nod mutely as you take his arm, letting him guide you down your front steps and into the waiting limousine. It was times like this that you really felt the differences between you stood out; he was tall, rich, brilliant and classy, and he treated you with the chivalry of decades past, while you were just a young girl trying to get by, working three separate admin jobs, annoyed with most people your own age. You find yourself lost in your morose thoughts as the limo drives off, and Terry quickly takes notice.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he asks, taking your hand, his thumb rubbing in reassuring circles. “You seem quiet this evening.”

You tilt your head towards him, considering how to respond. This was an important evening for Terry, and you didn’t want to distract him with your silly, trivial self-image problems. You decide to be honest, but brief with him, knowing he’d be able to detect a lie instantly.

“I’m fine, Terry, I’m just really nervous. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I have no idea what I’m in for tonight,” you explain, biting your lip nervously. He moves to soothe you, taking the side of your face in one of his hands and stroking your cheek comfortingly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he croons, “you have nothing to worry about, I promise you. Just be your wonderful self, and you will be just fine.” He leans in to kiss you deeply and you melt against him, but he can still see traces of doubt in your expression when you break apart. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he whispers encouragingly, running his thumb along your bottom lip. You nod, wanting to believe him, and hope for the best. Terry would take care of you, of that you had no doubt.

---

Disappointingly, Terry had been wrong, you thought to yourself with a sigh. Over the last couple of hours, Terry had been forced to step away from you again and again, giving you an apologetic look every time he was dragged away to discuss various business dealings. You knew you couldn’t hold it against him; you were proud of how successful he was, and how hard he had worked his whole life. It was just hard, feeling like this was another way that you couldn’t relate to him. You feel him take a seat beside you and put on a smile; the least you could do tonight was to look like you were enjoying yourself to avoid embarrassing him.

“How long will I have you for this time?” you ask playfully, trying to keep your tone light.

“How long do you want me for?” replies a voice in your ear that was definitely not Terry’s. You jump, leaning away from the person, your face turning bright red. The man in Terry’s chair looked to be in his late twenties, with tanned skin and short brown curls. He gave you a wicked smile, his dark eyes glittering in amusement as you try to compose yourself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir!”

“I can’t say that I am. What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he surveys you. You suppose he was handsome enough, and like Terry, clearly dressed like money, but you felt absolutely no attraction towards him whatsoever. Like everyone else, this man couldn’t hold a candle to your Terry.

“I’m… uh…” you stammer, trying to think of what to say. You were so unfamiliar with this type of setting, and you didn’t want to do anything to embarrass Terry, or spoil a business dealing. “My name is Y/N. Sorry again for what I said, I thought you were my boyfriend.”

Before he could get a word in edgewise, you get out of your chair, grabbing your clutch and walking quickly to the ladies’ room, trying to freshen yourself up while waiting for the colour to fade from your cheeks. Hoping that the man will have left your table by the time you returned, you left the bathroom, walking out into the ballroom once more.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?” A different man asked, surveying you with his green eyes as he approached. You had been certain this man had been seated just behind you the next table over. Maybe he hadn’t seen you with Terry, or heard you reject the other man.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m actually here with someone,” you say, trying to be polite, scanning the room for Terry. The man pretends to look around with you, before leaning down to speak in your ear.

“Really? I don’t see him,” he says in a low voice, and you roll your eyes, stepping away to reclaim your personal space.

“Yes, well he just stepped away for a moment, I’m going to find him. Enjoy your evening,” you say forcefully, emphasizing that you will not be part of it, and walk away from him.

And so it went on, being interrupted over and over by men while you looked around for Terry. Where was he? You needed him here to get through this night, tired of being bothered by businessmen who looked at you like you were something to be bought.

“No, thank you,” you say, rejecting another man’s request for a dance, feeling yourself getting annoyed.

“There you are, Y/N” Terry says exasperatedly from behind you, and you whirl around in surprise and relief. He wraps you up in his arms, kissing you firmly, but it feels off. You turn your chin up against his chest and see him glaring daggers at the man behind you. Uh-oh, you think, whimpering into his shirt, and he snaps out of it, staring down at you.

Let’s get out of here,” Terry says curtly, blue eyes still cold as ice as they lock with yours, and he leads you away.

---

Terry had sulked the whole way home, seeming frustrated. You had watched him out of the corner of your eye the whole way home, biting your lip in concern.

“Terry, baby, what’s wrong?” you ask as you walk into his home. What were you supposed to have done back there?

“Nothing,” he says airily, but you see right through him. “Nothing yet,” he corrects himself. “Not until you go and run off with Mulligan, or Park, or any of the other half dozen men I saw throwing themselves at you all night!” You stare at him, mouth agape.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you ask incredulously. You start to laugh, but stop immediately as Terry gives you a cold look. “Terry, that’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?” he asks harshly, discarding his jacket on the back of a chair and walking to the bar to pour himself a drink. “It didn’t seem like that to me,” he mutters angrily, downing the glass of whiskey in one big gulp.

“What are you talking about?” you ask heatedly. All you had done all night was wait for him!

“I’m talking about how you even entertained their conversations at all, Y/N,” he says, seething. “They didn’t deserve more than two words from you! You’re mine,” he says, stalking across the room towards you.

You meet him halfway, reaching up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, knowing that he needs some reassurance from you. “Oh Terry,” you say softly, staring into his eyes. “I’ve known I’m yours probably longer than you have,” you say seriously, and his arms hesitantly come to wrap around you.

“Is that so?” he asks, one corner of his mouth lifting up into a smile, and you kiss the smile, giggling.

“Yes, that’s so! I was only trying to be nice to those men because I didn’t want to mess anything up for you, like a business relationship or something. I had no idea how to talk to those people, and I didn’t want to!”  

“Really? You weren’t hoping some younger billionaire would sweep you off your feet?” He says hopefully, and you find his uncertainty charming as he calms down, holding you tightly.

“Younger or not, none of those men come close to comparing with you, Terry, in any way” you say honestly, comforting him the best you can.

“Plus, have you seen you?” you ask, pointedly looking him up and down. “Any guy would kill to look like you, love, no matter the age. I mean, I’m not dating you just for your looks, Terry, but trust me when I say you have nothing to worry about in that regard.” He preens a bit at the compliment, and you see his confidence return in full, and you consider the matter settled, turning away to hide your smile from him. It was strangely adorable, seeing a man as impressive as Terry Silver feeling insecure about himself, and it made you feel like maybe you have more in common with him than you thought.

“Plus, men my age just want to fuck 24/7,” you joke, dismissing the whole bunch. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that with you!” You’re still turned away from Terry as you say this, so you miss the way his eyes flash at your comment.

“And just what do you mean by that?” Terry asks, his voice dropping an octave. You look over your shoulder at him, confused by the tone that the conversation has suddenly taken. You shrug nonchalantly, trying to ease the tension, putting one hand on the back of the couch for support as you bend down to undo your strappy heels. Before you can, though, you’re yanked back up into a standing position.

“If you think,” Terry breathes into your ear, trapping you against him with an arm tight around your waist, squeezing you, “that I don’t yearn to be inside you from the moment that I lay eyes on you, my dear, you are sorely mistaken.”

“T-Terry?” you ask in a meek voice, trying to turn your head to look at him and read his face, but he’s holding you steady, and his other hand slides up under your chin, squeezing your neck and keeping you from moving. Your heartbeat quickens and you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. You know that Terry would never really hurt you, but he was so strong, and could be so intense, that you feel your adrenaline spike anyway.

“And if that’s what you think, then maybe I’ve been remiss in my duties as your lover. Perhaps I should show you just what goes through my mind every time I look at you, hmm?” he muses to himself, knowing that you can’t answer from the way he’s gripping your neck. You shudder against him, feeling him getting hard against you. “Let’s see…”

He spins you around like a ragdoll, bringing you in front of a mirror hanging on the wall. Locking eyes with you in the mirror’s reflection, he takes his time, lifting the hand around your waist to your hair, gently taking out your hairpins one by one. You don’t move your eyes from his, fighting the urge to flinch every time a pin hits the marble floor. Plink. Plink. Plink.

You feel your curls falling down one by one, tickling your shoulder blades, but your eyes are so focused on Terry’s to the point that you can’t see anything else; it’s like you have tunnel vision. He’s been like this with you a few times in the past – incredibly dominant, that is – and you know that you’ll need to watch his expression closely if you want to anticipate his next move. You see it suddenly – a quick flashing of his blue eyes, like lightning – right before he grabs a fistful of your curls, pulling you up sharply, and you barely have enough time to straighten yourself back up, wobbling on your toes and trying to keep your balance. You tighten with need, whimpering, as he holds you there, licking your cheek possessively, his hot breath making your eyes flutter shut. You’re not sure it’s healthy, getting off on this, but at this moment you don’t care, needing Terry to take you and use you however he wants. You want to lose control tonight, and he needs control. A perfect match.

“Do you know what I think, when I see this pretty face?” he asks, tapping your cheek firmly with a finger. You shake your head, wincing as your hair pulls at the movement.

“Mine.” he growls, biting the spot where your neck and shoulder meet hard, and you let out a lusty cry, throwing your head back and he sucks hard on your skin.

“If I had my way, you wouldn’t leave my side without my mark on you, letting everyone know who you belong to.” As if to prove his point, he moves your hair over one shoulder and turns you, making sure that you see the dark hickey he’s left on your neck. You gasp, and try to cover it back up, but this only seems to urge him to go further.

“Men wouldn’t dare to look at you, let alone think about trying to take you from me!” He’s grinding his cock against you now, kneading your breasts roughly over your dress, and all you can do is hold on to him desperately. He suddenly whirls you around, pulling you into the middle of the room and into his arms, kissing you deeply, almost romantically.

Terry has always been mercurial, but when he needs you like this he becomes even more so, switching things up on you just to see your reactions, seeing how best to make you break from pleasure. Making you melt into a pool of lust was a fun challenge for him, you knew, and he was never one to admit defeat.

“You’re in for a long night, Y/N,” Terry says threateningly, tossing you onto the couch as he loosens his tie, his hair messy as it starts to come out of its slick ponytail. He has a wild look in his eyes, but you know that he is fully in control just from the way he’s rolling up the sleeves on his shirt: firmly, roughly even, but always with precision. You know he’s going to treat you the same way, and you draw in a shuddering breath, your mouth dry.

“You’ll count yourself lucky if I don’t end up taking you in every room of this house tonight,” He walks over to you slowly, and you meet him halfway, crawling up onto your knees, the top of your head only coming up to his chest.

His hand whips out – strike first – and grips your chin tightly, his thumb tracing your lips, staring at you on your knees before him like you were meant to be there.

“I am going to have you screaming my name like it’s the only word you know,” Terry promises, and then he’s on you, pinning you back against the couch, his hands everywhere, punishing your lips in a bruising kiss. You try to squirm up the couch to get into a better position, but you feel a tug from your dress, the fabric trapped under Terry’s knee.

“Terry, careful! The dress!” you caution him, not breaking the kiss. He growls in response, grabbing the hem of your skirt with both hands and ripping it straight up the middle to your waist, baring your legs for him, and you let out a yelp of surprise. He runs his hands up your legs hungrily, squeezing your hips.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he says huskily, flipping you over onto your stomach to get at your zipper, pulling it down quickly so that he can fully tear the dress off of you. “I’ll buy you a hundred dresses, sweetheart, if it means I can get you like this even a second sooner.” He runs his hand down your bare back and you arch up against him, lifting your hips up and presenting your ass to him, clad in only a pair of skimpy lace underwear. He kneads your ass firmly, swearing under his breath at the sight you make before him.

“I’m going to break you, little one,” he threatens, delivering a sharp slap to your ass, close to your hip. You moan, feeling the area grow hot, and know that within the next minute his handprint will be glowing a warm pink, marking you as his in yet another way. “I’m going to make you mine; you’ll be ruined for anyone else.” He emphasizes his point by spanking you again, hard, and you whimper into the couch cushions, knowing he was right. No one else could give you what Terry could; no one else would even try.

Terry bends over you, his chest pressing against your back, one hand pushing your face further into the couch until you struggle to breathe. “Not that I plan on letting anyone else touch you, isn’t that right, Y/N?” he asks smugly, and you nod your agreement frantically until he lets you up to gasp for breath. “Good girl,” he praises, and you shudder in response. He chuckles, catching the movement, and yanks your strapless bra down to your waist.

“You like that, huh?” he asks, plucking at your nipples with rough fingers and feeling them stiffen, and you let out a wordless moan, unable to articulate a response. “You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?” he purrs, and you arch against him as he pinches a nipple.

“Fuuuck!” you scream out as he pushes you closer to the line between pain and pleasure. “Yes, Terry!” you cry, both because you want to tell him what he wants to hear and because it’s the truth. Something about the way those words sounded in his mouth sent a jolt of arousal through your whole body every time he said them; you would worship him at his feet if he asked it of you. He suddenly stops, sliding off the couch and taking a few steps back.

“Show me,” is all he says, his eyes bright as he sees what you’ll do. Trembling with need, you slip off the couch and onto the rug, crawling over to his feet and kneeling in front of him. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you reach up and grab his belt. “Please?” you ask, begging to free his cock. A satisfied rumbling sound emanates from his chest as he takes in the sight, and he nods, unbuttoning his shirt as you undo his belt, pulling down his dress pants and underwear. Your mouth waters as you look at his cock, hard and throbbing for you, and move to stroke it with your fingers.

“No,” the command comes from above you, and you freeze, looking up at him questioningly. “You’ll be on your knees for me plenty, tonight. I want you on the bed,” he says matter-of-factly, lifting you to your feet with ease and shrugging out of his shirt. You find yourself distracted by his body, so broad and strong, with the perfect amount of silvery chest hair.

“You’d better make it up there before I do,” he warns, pausing to take off his remaining clothing. Your eyes widen and you back out of the room before turning and taking off down the hall. You hear the sound of his pounding feet just as you reach the bottom of the stairs; he was going to catch you. Frantically, you take the stairs two at a time, trying your best to escape him, but then he’s on you, tugging you back into his arms and laughing darkly in your ear. You feel his hard cock against you, with only your lace panties as a barrier keeping him from fucking you right on the stairs, and you shudder against him at the thought. You loved when he had his way with you.

“Not fast enough,” he tsks. “You’ll have to make up for that.” He drags you up the stairs by the arm and tosses you into his bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. As if you would try to escape this.

“Go to the bed and bend over,” he demands, and you rush to obey, throwing yourself face-first onto the blanket and trying not to wiggle around, your toes curling against the carpet in anticipation. He takes his time walking over to you, as if he’s contemplating how long you’d stay that way for, holding yourself in place and waiting for his pleasure.

He snatches up your hands, and you feel the softness of silk as he binds your wrists behind your back with his necktie. You flex your shoulders, testing your range of motion, and feel the weight on the mattress shift. Standing up straight, you take in the sight of Terry spread out naked on the soft sheets, cock erect, hair flowing loosely to his shoulders in those gorgeous silver curls, looking like a king as he lounges against the pillows. He beckons you, two fingers curling in towards him, and you climb onto the bed with difficulty, trying to maintain your balance as you settle between his legs.

“Such a good fucktoy,” he murmurs approvingly, and you shift your position, the words sending little electric shocks of pleasure to your clit, “you went right where you belong, didn’t you?” You nod fervently, pleading with him with your eyes to give you something to help get you off, and he smirks, holding the base of his cock towards you. “Go on then, my little slut,” he encourages, “get my cock ready to fuck you.”

You lean forward, licking him all over as you try to adjust yourself into a comfortable position without falling face-first into his lap, not that you think he’d mind. Terry tilts his head back as you get to work, and sighs at the ceiling. He’d had a mirror up there in the 80’s; maybe he should have it reinstalled? He glances back to you in time to see you take his cock between your beautiful painted lips, his gaze turning hungry at the sight. You really were made for him, he mused, watching you struggle to take his cock without losing your balance. Letting him be rough with you like this was only one of the many reasons he’d had an engagement ring custom-made for you months ago; you were the only person who could take all of him, the good and the bad, all the way down to the darkest parts of him, and you had. He’d waited a lifetime for you, and now that he had you he didn’t plan on wasting a single second. He pulls himself out of his thoughts and gives you his full attention once more. Hearing you let out a strained whimper, his hips buck slightly at the sound.

“Arms sore already?” he asks with fake sympathy, loving to watch you struggle as you pleasure him. You make a muffled noise of agreement as he thrusts into your mouth again, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. He moans eagerly as your throat tightens around him, and winds a hand into your hair tightly, moving you to take him as he pleases. His guidance on your head actually makes it easier to maintain your balance, and you take him deeper into your mouth, holding still until you start to choke, just the way he likes. You look up at him with tears blurring your vision, feeling so wholly devoted to this man who treated you the way you needed and didn’t judge you for it, nor treat you like you were made of glass. Mine, you think to yourself as you stare into his eyes, knowing you possessed him as much as he did you.

“Oh yes, Y/N. You were made to worship my cock,” Terry groans, and you hum in response, the vibrations nearly sending Terry over the edge. He lifts you off his cock, dragging you up his body until you’re straddling one of his thighs. He kisses you deeply, wrapping his arms around you, his fingers coming together just below your bound hands. He guides your hips back and forth, and you moan loudly as his leg stimulates your clit.

“That’s right, grind against my thigh like the desperate little thing you are, and beg for it.” You whimper, shamelessly humping his leg, leaning back and thrusting your chest out towards him.

“Please, fuck me Terry!” you moan bouncing on his lap frantically. He clucks his tongue, calm and collected right now as if he hadn’t just been on the verge of snapping completely and fucking you six ways from Sunday.

“Come on, you can do better than that, can’t you?” he teases, toying with one of your nipples casually. “Unless… you don’t need to come?” he suggests, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Terry!” you cry out desperately, struggling to not scream in frustration. “No, Terry, please! I need you, I need your cock inside me, please, I’ll do anything!” you babble incoherently. “Please, baby, take me, use me, whatever you want, just fuck me!”

Terry laughs mockingly as you struggle to maintain any sense of composure, quickly undoing the knotwork around your wrists and freeing your hands. Before you can stretch your arms, he’s already flipped you both around, pinning your face to the bed with a hand in your hair, lifting your hips up, pushing your soaked underwear to the side and making you whimper, your hands fisting the blankets as you brace yourself for a thorough fucking.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, sweetheart,” he says, thrusting into you in one smooth motion, holding your hips in a bruising grip as you shriek into the mattress.

“I’m going to give you just what you deserve, just what you need.”  He punctuates every word with a snap of his hips, fucking you harder and deeper with every thrust. “You were made to take my cock with that tight little pussy, weren’t you, Y/N?” he asks, pounding into you. “Weren’t you?!” he demands through gritted teeth, pulling you up by the hair when he gets no response.

“Yes, Terry! Made for you, just for you!” you cry out, sobbing from the intensity of the pleasure only Terry could bring you to.

“Damn right,” he growls, spanking you for good measure. “You’re going to take all of me, every day, whenever I want you, Y/N.” You feel his thrusts coming faster now, and you know he’s getting close.

“Yes, please!” you beg, right on the edge yourself. “Use me baby, please! I need you to pump me full, Terry, please come in me!” This sets him off, and he thrusts into you a few more times before holding his hips still and biting your shoulder as he comes deep inside you.

“My girl,” he pants into your ear, lowering you both to the mattress and collapsing on top of you. You find the weight comforting as you slowly come down from your own high, trying to get your breathing under control. The room is quiet except for both of your breathing, and you both feel incredibly satisfied.

Terry rolls off of you suddenly, flipping you over carefully, and runs his hands gently over your body, taking in your tear-stained face, seeming almost shy. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Was it too much? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks with concern, and your heart melts at the sight.

“Just in the good ways,” you respond cheekily, placing your hands over his as he finishes checking you over. He rolls his eyes playfully, kissing you on the forehead before laying down beside you in a huff. You roll to the side, bringing your arm up to his chest, toying with the soft hair there and kissing his bicep. He laughs softly at your actions, chest rumbling, and you melt into him further. While you loved the rough, dominant side of Terry this sweet, relaxed side of him was your favourite.

“Don’t get too comfortable, my dear,” he croons, hooking your leg around his hip as you nuzzle into him. “It’s your turn next.”

[avisisisis]

Rottmnt Headcanons!! (2)

Leo listens to girl in red because April once forced him to and he fell in love with all the songs. When hanging out, they put girl in red in the background.

Raph has a lot of plushies from his childhood. He doesn't play with them anymore, but they're still they're and he would never give them up (haha just like me fr!!)

There was this one time where the turtles wanted pizza and instead of just ordering like any normal person they crashed a stranger's kitchen and stole every pizza related thing. It's still an unsolved crime.

Donnie always had problem with touching, but it got a lot worse after the movie. Now he doesn't let anyone hug him, slap him or anything. Especially on his shell. He feels bad for flinching when people try to hug him. The others tell him that they don't mind and they get it. He's really grateful for that.

When they were younger, Splinter got these really depressing episodes where he couldn't even get out of bed. Raph was the one to take care of them when this happened. The worst ones could last weeks.

Splinter didn't want to get attached to the turtles, so he tried to be as distant as possible whole still being a good caretaker. Also, he gave them as much freedom as possible because of how he didn't have any growing up, but since he never wanted to be with his grandfather he didn't think they would want to be with him. Which is why he was so surprised when four little children came into his room crying because he wouldn't play with them.

After explaining the whole future thing to Casey, she ran into the Lair, deciding to test her son. He passed immediately.

The twins have their own version of the Lair Games which they play everyday to decide who's the oldest. It can change from rock papper scissors to a fight to the death (Raph always stops them before they actually do anything).

The boys chose their own names. Splinter was reading them a book, and Donnie mentioned the fact that they don't have actual names, just weird color nicknames. So, Splinter tells them to find a name they like and make it their own. They decided to go by the names they have now because they wanted to match.

They all love Brooklyn 99 because I love Brooklyn 99.

Everytime they talk about “the family”, they include April, because she's their sister.

There was this one time where April didn't have anyone to go to the school dance with so Leo joined the school a few months before and went with her using Sunita's cloaking brooch (he had to fight Donnie because he also wanted to go to school).

Mikey tried to give Big Mama a redemption arc like he did with Draxum, but he didn't manage to fully do it so they now visit eachother once a week while still fighting whenever they're on duty.

The Krang is basically the only thing Leo won't joke about. They found out when Donnie said that “the last fun thing I did was two months ago and it was becoming a fucking Krang spaceship” and Leo stared at him for the next ten minutes.

Whenever Mikey or Leo go quiet, Raph is alone and Donnie is handling dangerous weapons without adult supervision it's because something is going down.

April is the only one who has a normal sleep schedule because her mom won't let her stay awake too late.

Mayhem thinks the family is stupid, but he loves them anyway. Sometimes.

Raph screamed when Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago kissed and everyone else worried.

Leo and Raph are basically the scene where Jake says “if I run at Terry he'll most likely catch me in his arms”. Raph would catch anyone else, but it's only Leo the one who throws himself at him.

April goes to the Lair almost everyday and complains about school with any of the boys. They always listen to her rants.

Leo figured out that he had adhd when April told him that she thought he had it. He never got the chance to get an actual diagnosis so he felt like he wasn't even if the sings were all there and he could see them.

Sunita found everyone a therapist at the Hidden City. Her name's Charlie and they all like her.

Donnie likes to threaten people he doesn't like. He also threatens Leo, but he doesn't actually mean them.

Because of being in contact with eachother when they were mutated, the turtles have traits of the other's species. That's why Donnie can go into his shell, why he has purple marks, why Raph's isn't as spiny as he should be, why their colors are different from the original species, etc.

Red eared sliders comunicate with vibrations, so Leo does this really low vibration thing when he feels happy, pleased or just when he's in a good mood that April calls purring no matter how much he complains about it.

[justablah56]

Here is your prompt to get you to speak your lovesong-related thoughts aloud! [and also a notice that I may fall asleep very soon and not see them until later if you answer this tonight ehe]

@cookies-over-yonder also asked me abt my lovesong thoughts so I'm just gonna put it all here lmao

ah ok SO !! the first thing you need to know about me is that Terry/Nick/Sparrow is literally everything to me . I have never once mentioned them or drawn them unless you count me having drawn fanart for every 2 person pairing within this throuple lmao - so if this turns into polycule thoughts I'm sorry (I am not) anyways <3 Nick and sparrow ! methinks they are one of the more healthy relationships within the many kiddad ships , but ah . that's not saying much seeing as . the kiddads are . like that . anyways , my hc for how they got together is kinda that Terry set them up in the way that Terry is just the person the majority of the kiddads tell all their shit to , so obv both Nick and sparrow told terry all about their crushes on each other and the entire time terry just sits there like uh huh . oh you don't think he likes you back ? hm . okay . that's a thought . but both of the other two are too invested in lamenting abt their crushes that they absolutely do not sense anything weird about Terry's very obvious and deadpan responses . meanwhile both of them have crushes on Terry 200% and have absolutely talked to each other about how attractive Terry is so both of them assume the other *just* likes Terry and therefore they have no chance . bcs wow I like both of them , but what are even the chances that he likes both of us too ??? bcs they are all so silly stupid and are too busy crushing on not one but *two* of their best friends to notice that literally so is everyone . anyways . Nick and Sparrow . transfem sparrow my beloved , and transmasc Nick is canon (to ME) so t4t for the win <3 anyways , I think when Terry finally gets fed up with being the middle man between the two of them he just brings both of them over by texting both of them that the other has smthin to tell them . bcs it'd be silly . followed immediately by them both then being like wait Terry come back . now we both have smthin to tell *you* . anyways . Nick and Sparrow are just very soft w each other (until they're not if ya know what I mean) but I think Nick when hes w sparrow just becomes the most romantic guy to ever exist bcs hes realized that sparrow loves all those silly little romantic things like Nick gets her flowers all the time bcs he can see her face light up as she goes to find a vase . he sees her blush and grin fondly at him when he holds the door open for her . he loves the way she pulls him into her lap and kisses his face when he gets her a new dress to match the button up he just got . just cute shit like that . also I think (obv) that sparrow is v big on showing love via physical affection , esp with Nick , partly bcs he's her partner and partly just because of how flustered it makes him , no matter how small the touch . she could just casually grab his hand while they're walking somewhere and Nick will just immediately look up at her like 😳 anyways running out of rail on this extended train of thought and don't know what to keep talking abt so that's all folks until someone asks me abt them again sndnndmd

[beauspot]

Regarding why people thought the kiss would be a joke or a fake out: long, painful experience. Not, let me be clear, with Neil Gaiman, who has never done a thing to earn my distrust. Not with fierce humanist Sir Terry Pratchett (GNU). Not with anyone who worked on this amazing project, but just with the miserable queerphobic culture we live in. I remember a time not even that long ago where the only IMAGINABLE way for this kiss to make it's way onto our screens would be as a joke or a fake out. I wanted badly to believe in it, but if I'd been wrong, it would have hurt so much. The best I could manage was a kind of agnostic caution where I made no assumptions about whether or not it would even be IN the final cut, let alone what it would mean. I knew in my head that Neil would never disrespect his audience like that, but in my heart I still carried a lot of baggage from being told over and over and over that I was delusional for seeing queer romance as anything other than a joke.

yeah i mean i’ve been queerbaited before with a few ships, so I understand not being totally trusting from a logical standpoint.

i guess for me I just found it strange people thought neil would make aziracrow a joke (?) essentially. like yes people commented on their relationship in a joking matter, but their actual relationship has never been a joke. and to me it just felt different because neil repeatedly referenced the show being a love story in a way the book wasn’t intended to be, along with referencing when they fell in love with one another and he wasn’t kidding he was being entirely serious.

with other writers when they would talk about ships there was always this sort of tone to their voice that made it sound like they were kidding or that they were just placating us and i don’t think neil is really interested in that. like yes writers are influenced by fans somewhat that is inevitable but we couldn’t force him to make them canon if he didn’t want to, especially since that’s not how aziracrow were initially written in the 90s. also yes i’ve seen actors “supportive” of ships that turned out to eventually be queerbait, but michael and david constantly spoke about how their characters loved and were in love with one another. in nearly every interview.

not to mention michael (before season 2 was even a thing that was happening) supported fans shipping them when it wouldn’t have helped him at all because the show was meant to be a one off, just because he liked it.

they always felt different to me than other ships where i was being queerbaited and i never doubted their love was romantic even in the first season just because we didn’t get a kiss because if we’re being honest the kiss wasn’t even top 5 in the list of the most romantic things that happen between them this season alone. but at the end of the day it was still a leap of faith and i’m glad i took it

[karaonasi]

KitKat: The Start of Summer (Prologue)

I’m going to try posting sections of Kit’s story straight on Tumblr.

Let me know what you think.

This is Kit’s story following through the game with his own additions and alterations.

💜💜💜

The Start of Summer

This summer wasn’t the typical start of summer.

For one thing, we had graduated from high school. At the end of the summer, Miranda, Terri and all of my friends would scatter though I would be staying in Sunset Bird. I, however, would be commuting to school--Prism Vista SoCal University. For another thing, Cove wasn’t here. Even for graduation. Not to mention that he had been gone longer than usual. I understood. This was one of the last times he would be guaranteed to have time to visit his mother without worrying about school or work. It had been a bit lonely. Cove and I were practically joined at the hip--or ‘clingy’ as people often liked to tease us. But what else do you expect when you spend every day of your life with someone over the span of ten years? Hell, some marriages don’t last that long. Honestly, Cove was more brother to me than best friend. And I loved him as if he were my brother--or perhaps more so without having the need to compete for the same parents’ attention and affection as normal siblings do.

Now we sat on his front stoop waiting.

You know that Cliff had acclimated to life here in Sunset Bird when his idea of entertainment was watching for the new neighbor to move in--as if he was one of the nosey elderly tourists rather than his own age of 36. But when he reluctantly left for work, Cove volunteered to keep watch for him and report on the situation. I would have chosen to keep him company regardless, but I especially wanted to spend more time with him after the past few weeks without my best friend. I was happily surprised when he appeared in my window seat out of nowhere last night. But we hadn’t had a lot of time to catch up. So as we sat, I told him about the graduation ceremony and about running into Shiloh the day before. In turn, he told me about the trips with Kyra into the city with all the bright flashing lights, as well as into the desert to photograph the landscape. That last one had to be a sight--my ocean-bred friend in the desert. And how his mom and he enjoyed the care package that Mom and I had baked for them.

The nice thing about Cove--the thing that’s always been nice about Cove is that you never have to do anything to have a good time. No planned activities. No required conversation. You could just relax in each others’ company. And when we ran out of updates, that’s what we did.

Until the taxi pulled up across the street.

I nudged Cove’s shoulder, gesturing with my chin, my curiosity now piqued as to what geriatric couple would be taking over the Mean Not-Grandparents’ house this summer.

Then the door opened.

My eyes widened and my mind went blank for a moment. A nudge to my shoulder broke me out of my trance. Cove’s expression was akin to ‘Get a load of that guy.’

And yeah. I was.

Because it felt like the whole world had burst into color--which was ironic since the person was styled entirely in monochrome. I watched in wide-eyed fascination. Our new neighbor wasn’t some cranky older adult. He looked to be our age--or perhaps a little older, I thought as I watched the confident way in which he strolled to the taxi driver’s window, paid, then tapped on the frame of the car to signal it could depart. As if he did this all the time. I don’t think I had been in a taxi in my entire life. But this guy did it like it was no big deal. Between that and his fashion sense, I figured he must be a city kid--not Prism Vista or probably anywhere else in Southern California. Perhaps New York or somewhere on the northeast side of the country where black and white were favored over pastels and bright colors.

When he had finished with the task of dismissing the taxi driver, he just as confidently strolled over to where we were sitting. I liked the way he moved--with a graceful swagger, a cocky smile in place upon refined features. Yet nothing about his demeanor seemed snooty or stuck-up as he approached. “...wow…” I breathed, not realizing I had said it aloud until I heard a snort and a disbelieving, ‘Really?’ from beside me.

But…yeah. Really.

There was just…something….about this stranger…

I couldn’t even put my fingers on it. Just that it was like something inside myself…woke up upon seeing him. Like the world bloomed into color--no, more than just color. It was like the world around me burst into sensation or perhaps it wasn’t that the world had changed. Perhaps it was that I had changed. I could finally feel something that had been here but dormant all along. I had never felt this feeling before, this…being drawn to another person in more than a friendship way. I mean, I did have a reputation at school of being quite a flirt. But everyone around me always kinda also knew that there wasn't anything behind that. No intent on making a friendly flirtation into ‘more’. Because I had never felt ‘more.’ Not like my classmates, teammates, and friends did--all the little crushes and relationships that seemed to be integral to high school life. I just…never felt that way about anyone. And I didn’t want to lead anyone on by ‘giving it a try’ as I had some friends try to urge me to do. I know some people thought that there was something wrong with me--I had overheard it more than once. I even caught my parents worrying about it one night. And if I’m being honest, I have kinda worried if something was wrong with me too--if perhaps there was something inherently…broken about me.

Except.

Except none of this was precisely true. I had experienced something. It had been brief. And it had been years ago--so long ago that I can’t even be sure how much of it was real and how much had been embellished by my own imagination.

But I had at least felt something.

At that Summer Soiree. When I had been thirteen. That one solitary dance at the Cypress with that one mystery boy…hell, I never got so much as a name. And over the years even his face had faded. I just remembered dark hair…beautiful brown eyes with amber tones…and the way he danced with me…how his slender body pressed against mine, expertly guided mine in dance…

So many nights I spent reliving those few fleeting but perfect moments, my body remembering how it felt for the first and last time…

Until this moment…

Until this person.

“Hello folks, who might you be?”

“We’re the neighbors.” Cove’s voice once again pulled me out of my thoughts and memories

“Hallelujah.” The newcomer’s voice was deep and had a purring quality to it that seemed to resonate somewhere deep inside of me.

Wow.

This time I didn’t say it out loud, but the sentiment was still there. The stranger was striking—and not just due to his clothing style. He had even dyed his hair to match the black and white ensemble. Dedicated. He stopped just before us, one hip cocked, thumbs hooked into his pockets in a way that was both casual and just…would ‘sexy’ be the right word? It was hard to know, never having applied that term in earnest before—even in my mind. His fingers sported thick black metal rings, some fingers having more than one. Artfully ripped grey jeans openly displayed tantalizing peeks of creamy pink skin. I swallowed hard as I tore my gaze away from the stranger’s bare skin—feeling my cheeks tingle slightly.

“I’m Baxter Ward. It’s excellent to meet you, neighbors.”

Damn, even his name sounded expensive. But then he stepped closer, holding out a hand in greeting. My brain, which hadn’t yet fully recovered from its .exe failure, went on autopilot offering a hug as I would to anyone else I had friendly or affectionate feelings towards—with the solitary exception of Cove. Why Cove? Because my best friend and I were already so close, so entwined that hugging him just felt like crossing a line somehow.

And before I knew it, this hot stranger—Baxter—was in my arms. He wasn’t hesitant about it either. He stepped into the embrace, arms wrapping around me in turn…even giving me a light squeeze. Over his shoulder I could see my best friend raising one wavy eyebrow at me in disbelief. I simply gave him an expression that said ‘I don’t know either’, because I genuinely didn’t know what had happened. Not that I was complaining in the slightest because, yeah, hot guy.

When we stepped back, my mind had finally caught up enough to find my manners—rather than, you know, feeling up the new neighbor. “Welcome to Sunset Bird, Baxter. I’m Kit.”

Baxter gave me a delighted grin “Hey Kit. I am quite keen on getting to know you better this summer. We could be good friends.”

I flashed our new acquaintance a big friendly smile though internally I felt a wave of unaccustomed bashfulness because, though the words were commonplace enough, the purring tone of his voice as well as the emphasis he placed made what he said sound vaguely…suggestive…which…um…okay, so I just have no experience to know what to do with that…

Cove apparently did know how to take that. He made an amused scoff from my other side. That gained the attention of our neighbor.

“And you are?”

I cringed inwardly as I watched Cove avoid Baxter’s hand extended for a handshake by crossing his arms over his chest. No way that the newcomer could have known that it takes Cove time and familiarity to warm to new people. So perhaps it was good that my welcome may have been a little too warm--to counterbalance my best friend’s cold reception.

“I’m Cove,” he replied flatly.

Despite the rejection, our new neighbor wasn’t deterred. Instead, his brown eyes lit up. “Now wait, is that a nickname or your real name?”

I wasn’t surprised by Cove’s wary response. “It’s just my name.” It wasn’t the first time someone had chosen to point out the uniqueness of his name. It was a common occurrence actually whenever someone new met him at school.

Still, Baxter wasn’t put off by Cove’s demeanor. Rather, he only seemed more intrigued--even charmed, letting out a small laugh. “Your parents knew exactly what they were doing. I can’t imagine a more fitting name for the face I’m seeing.”

I smirked. He wasn't wrong. I had long suspected Cliff to have been some exiled merman with how he seemed to live as much in or by the sea as he did on land. It was only fitting that he had named his son something nautical. But Baxter had somehow sensed this about my friend--after only having stepped foot in our little town mere moments ago.

“Cove, that’s gorgeous,” he continued.

My smirk dropped, along with the buoyant mood I had been experiencing. And I didn’t understand why.

“It’s--it’s really not,” Cove stammered.

Perhaps my drop in mood had been in response to sensing Cove’s mounting distress. I knew the best way to get Cove to snap out of his discomfort and focus on me rather than our visitor. Teasing. “No, I agree. It suits you.”

Now Baxter turned a playful smile on me. “Nice to see someone else knows. The impact might’ve faded for you living with it this long, but I promise to the onlooker, it’s a knockout.”

Cove’s body stiffened and I winced--though I wasn’t sure that my reaction was entirely for Cove’s benefit. I opened my mouth to warn the stranger off further compliments to my freaked out best friend when the boy in monochrome took a step back, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t intended to mean more than it did. I like your name, but you don’t have to mind that. I’m patently against stepping on anyone’s toes.” He chuckled to himself, the sound charming.

I tilted my head, trying to decipher what exactly the visitor meant by it. Cove raised an eyebrow at me and I returned his silent inquiry with a shrug of my own. I felt eyes on me and I turned my attention from Cove back to Baxter--to find him…staring at me.

“Hm?” Okay, so it wasn’t the most elegant way of asking what was up. But I guess it didn’t matter since he didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his gaze in my general direction, finger tapping on the side of his chin. Cove and I exchanged another silent conversation of ‘I don’t know what the hell is going on either’. I wasn’t quite sure what to think of this guy. He had gone from ‘Oh my god, HOT!’ to disconcerting and a bit over the top to…is he having a staring seizure or something? I watched as he seemed to snap out of whatever that was. His lips curled into a lop-sided smile and, to my surprise, he pointed directly at me.

“We’ve met before.” He said it confidently.

I blinked. What?

Cove repeated my thought aloud. “What? When?”

I think I would have remembered someone who dressed like…this…

Baxter’s grin widened and I felt my cheeks heat slightly as the boy increased his scrutiny of me, tilting his head. “It’s embarrassing, but I haven’t remembered that part yet.” He laughed, obviously finding the byplay of confusion between me and Cove quite amusing. Then sparkling brown eyes settled upon me again. “I’m getting there. Don’t tell me. I know you want to, but do not. It’ll come to me.”

I blinked at him. Don’t tell him? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a problem since I was wracking my mind and couldn’t come up with anyone who resembled this outlandish figure in looks or mannerisms. Our gazes each traveled up and down the other, continuing to search for the answer.

Only…wait…

That feeling I experienced when Baxter first appeared on our street…as if I had seen colors for the first time…had felt my mind and body respond to someone with more than just friendly interest for the first time…that wasn’t the first time at all--was it? Our eyes met and I saw the same spark of recollection in his…felt a spark jump between us--the same spark that I had felt only once before.

With a snap of his fingers, he announced the realization we both had come to. “The Cypress at the Summer Soiree. Of course.” Then Baxter started to reminisce about the details. But I didn’t need further reminding. It wasn’t like I had ever forgotten that magical night…

💜💜💜

Next up: Flashback 5 Years Ago:

[gallawitchxx]

heeeheeehooohoooo, i was tagged to do this AU GAME by @creepkinginc @metalheadmickey & @energievie -- who all had brilliant ideas for stories! HOW FUN!

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rules (more or less):

use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you. then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.

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au generator gave me: 2000s AU

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fic trope generator gave me: have one of your characters get home way too late and the other character has been pacing and worrying all night.

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title: Y2K Mayday

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let's plot:

[[ as much as i would like for this to be a multi-chap, this is a one-shot, let's be real. i also basically wrote it lol so i'm throwing it under a cut! ]] the year is 1999. mickey & ian are roommates.

they both moved out of their family homes for same, same, but different reasons. mickey just finished a prison stint & wanted to stay as far the fuck away from terry as humanly possible. ian's getting back on his feet after his latest episode & is ready to try his hand at recovery when there aren't a million gallaghers checking in every couple of minutes. ian picked a two-bedroom apartment in a neighborhood that's still technically the southside, but it inching towards something nicer. he thinks that mandy's going to move in with him, but then she gets some job opportunity/sugar daddy a few states over, so at the last minute, she sends mickey to move into the room she was supposed to take. they keep their distance at first. just two guys, going about their days, figuring their shit out, sharing a roof. they don't need to be friends, they just need to not kill each other when one of them forgets to swap out the toilet paper roll. but then, little things start happening. an impromptu movie night over a shared batch of mickey's precious pizza rolls... ian picks up mickey's favorite beer on his grocery run, putting it front & center in the fridge so he won't miss it... they both start picking up around the place, trying to get the other one to notice how many unprompted chores they both have done... ian starts to wonder... he obviously thinks mickey's hot. he has eyes & a dick that takes an interest whenever mickey's bending over to snag something out of the oven. & yeah, he's heard things from mandy that would lead him to believe he's not barking up the wrong tree. but mickey's not out out & ian's not going to just bring it up in casual conversation unless he's also prepared to get his face bashed in. cut to: New Year's Eve. ian's at the gallagher house for a party. he doesn't know what mickey's plans are. he tried to ask him about it, but mickey kept dodging the question. maybe he's working? surely the club that he's a bouncer at is having some big event. but why wouldn't he just say that? ...maybe he had a date that he didn't want to tell ian about? fuck, that boils his blood. it makes his skin crawl, thinking about mickey kissing someone else on new year's eve. starting a new fucking millennium doing anything other than bouncing on ian's cock... it's almost 2am, a fine time to still be out on new year's, but suddenly ian can't imagine being anywhere else but with mickey. he's gotta get home! NOW! his legs shake the whole L ride. what if he gets home & mickey has someone over? what if he's not even there & ian just has to nurse his broken heart alone in an empty apartment? what if mickey is there. but he laughs in ian's face at the very mention of them being together as more than roommates & occasional movie buds? somehow, he manages to get to their apartment. he opens the door to find mickey biting his thumb nail & pacing around the living room. "mick?" "what the fuck, gallagher?! do you have any idea what time it is? where've you been?" "fiona threw a party. what's going on?" "shit..." he swipes a nervous hand down his face. chuckles a litte. "i'm a fucking idiot. you didn't come home. thought something happened to you..." "it's new year's eve." "yeah man, i know. guys at the club were talking about fucking Y2K... i dunno, got all in my head." "aw mickey, you were worried about me!" "was not." "you just admitted it! plus, you're burning a hole in the carpet." "whatever." as ian approaches, he notices the blush on mickey's cheeks. he wants to see that flush cover a whole lot more than just his pretty face. & something tells him that he might just get his wish... "sorry i missed midnight." THEY SMOOOOOCH! THE END!

[hayscodings]

how do you think the actions from 3x06 affect lana? i dont rlly remember much but the best person to ask felt like you.

This is an excellent question. I started a google doc not too long ago to jot down my observations on every Svetlana scene and only got as far as her first three episodes, so I've given this some thought. I actually hadn't watched the scene in 3x06 since I first picked up the show, as I always skip it, but I needed to rewatch it in order to draw conclusions about how it affected Svet and, while I was doing so, I noticed some interesting things.

First, I think it's curious that all it took to get Svetlana to the Milkovich house was a call from Terry saying "It's Terry. Send the Russian." As far as we know, the girls at the spa did not make house calls. Which begs the question, why did Terry have the power to have her sent over with just five words?

Second, how exactly did Svetlana get to the Milkovich house? As far as we know, she never owned a car. She also couldn't have taken the L because she shows up without a purse. Is the spa walking distance or did someone drive her over? If so, who? Why would the people running the spa cater to Terry in this way?

Third, it is very odd to me that Svetlana shows up without anything on her person— no jacket, no purse, no wallet, nothing. She's not even wearing clothes with pockets where she could be carrying any personal belongings. Terry makes one quick phone call and there she is at his doorstep a few minutes later, heavily made-up in a short dress and very high heels. There's a metaphor to be made here about her not being her own person.

Which brings me to another point: Terry never calls Svetlana by her name. He frequents the spa enough to be able to summon Svetlana by just stating who he is over the phone, and he's been a client of Svetlana's before, yet he refers to her as "the Russian" on the phone and addresses her as "сука" (which means "bitch" in Russian) to her face. This could mean one of two things: (1) he either never bothered to learn her name; or (2) he knows her name but actively chooses not to call her by it. Both are equally dehumanizing in different ways.

Which leads me to wonder...what exactly was the dynamic between Svetlana and Terry like? We know he solicited her services (presumably) more than once, which suggests some sort of satisfaction with them, but we also know that he didn't believe that she was worth more than "a couple of bucks". As I mentioned before, he also never calls Svetlana by name, and at no point do we see him act particularly warmly towards her. Yet he specifically requests her when he calls the spa...why is that?

Perhaps the most interesting observation I made while rewatching this scene though, is that Svetlana never utters a word in it. Not to greet Terry at the door, not to ask him what she was called over for— nothing. There are no pleasantries exchanged between them. She doesn't so much as nod when he gives her his orders. This suggests that she knows how he works, knows that he doesn't consider her anything more than just some hand-whore, and I don't think it's a stretch to assume that she is probably scared of him. Everything about the way that Terry approaches the situation indicates that he does not view Svetlana as a person, but rather as a commodity— to use, to exploit, to rent as he pleases. And Svetlana acts accordingly.

From the moment she walks into that house she looks completely dead-eyed. The only time she looks anything other than 100% emotionally checked out is when she's looking between Ian and Mickey, taking stock of their injuries and piecing together the severity of the situation that she has just been dragged into. She knows Terry is responsible for what's happening, she can see that he has a gun, and she knows better than to protest or try and leave. The most accurate word I can think of to describe the way that she approaches the situation is: clinically. She looks completely detached.

Now, I know that deleted scenes aren't canon but I want to bring up the deleted scene where Ian goes to visit Svetlana at the spa for just a moment. In the scene, Svetlana tells Ian, "Your face looks familiar." She recognizes him enough to know that she's seen his face before, but she can't place why or from where. And while this might seem impossible given how horrifying that entire situation was, or even odd given that she clearly took note of Ian in that scene, it actually makes a lot of sense and clues us into how Svetlana coped with the situation: by suppressing it.

Back when the show was airing, Isidora said in an interview, "At the end up the day she is a victim of that event as well, and is traumatized in her own way." I think a lot of people assume that Svetlana wasn't affected by the situation because she never says or does anything to indicate that she was, but that's the thing— she never acknowledges it at all. Just like she tries not to acknowledge her father's abuse, doesn't stand up for herself when Kev refers to her having sex with Yvon as 'cheating' (he was threatening her— it wasn't consensual), and doesn't let is show that Kev and V pushing her around is actually getting to her until she finally reaches her breaking point and can no longer hold it in.

Svetlana copes by pretending that her trauma doesn't exist. She suppresses it, she ignores it, she compartmentalizes. And when someone brings it up, she either brushes it aside or attempts to downplay it. When Kev asks her if her father ever sexually abused her, she gets up and walks away. Then in a following scene she casually confirms that he did, as if it's no big deal.

She doesn't make a big deal of her trauma because she so badly needs it not be. Calling a spade a spade would mean actually having to face what she's been through, and she doesn't want to do that. It's easier for her to claim that her father "had good qualities too", and to respond to other people acknowledging the abuse that he subjected her to by correcting them on meaningless details ("it was three-hundred dollars", "it was potato sack"), than it is for her to confront the truth. Because deep down she knows that, if she does, she is not going to be okay. And she needs to be okay.

She needs to be okay because she is poor and she is undocumented and she has a child to take care of. She needs to be okay because she can't afford to not be. Because, if she's not, then where does she go from there? How does she manage to get up every morning? What happened in 3x06 was awful, but people need to keep in mind that that day was not so out of the ordinary for Svetlana. She was sold into sexual slavery when she was just ten years old, was being abused by her father before that, was married to an abusive man who used her for sex sometime during her teens, and probably dealt with her fair share of violent clients at the spa. She's been raped many times over.

It's hard to say, in so many words, how all of this has affected her, because, the truth is, I think there is precious little about Svetlana's personality, and everything that she does, that isn't a direct result of her trauma. Her hyper self-reliance, her inability to ask for help or lean on other people, the way that she grounds all of her decisions on practical bases forsaking any potential hurt feelings, the difficulty she has comprehending others peoples' emotional appeals, her need for security and some semblance of a functioning family, her willingness to forgive any wrong, the way that she accepts mistreatment from people she cares about, and, most notably, the way that she lives her life in survival mode even when she no longer has to. All of these things can be tied to her trauma.

It's easy to look at Svetlana, see how mature and responsible and put-together she is, and assume that she is okay. But, in actuality, all of the things that paint the picture of her being okay are indicators that she is very much not. It just so happens that the manner in which she chooses to cope presents itself in a way that makes her seem extremely high-functioning. But just because she isn't turning to a bottle to get through the day, or going on benders, doesn't mean that she isn't hurting. She is. And what's sad is that the fact that her suffering is so subtle and quiet actually works against her, because nobody ever sees her pain. They just assume that she's fine.

So if she's not asking for help or sympathy, and no one is offering her any, well...

[fractualized]

I totally see where you're coming from with how you like your mix of comedy and seriousness and I think I'm really similar! I can definitely tolerate a lot of cheese but I'll almost always consider it a one off situation. I recently rewatched Batman and Robin while my wife was making a cast of my body so we could make cosplay and it was just so funny and silly that like it reminded me of what one of those really campy comics would look like in real life and I respected the fact that they could commit to it that way and make an artful movie that brought that to life but there were a few elements that didn't make sense to me like Barbara being Alfred's niece that I was just like whatever man and I knew I couldn't like... use it as a foundation for my basis of characterization, like I can with other media! I really love the animated series too, I grew up with it being my first experience with Batman and I always really respected it as a medium that I could trust to be satisfying and whole. I also really really liked Batman beyond because it felt like the closest continuation of that story even though I know it's really not canon and it kind of doesn't work, I like to view it as like a semi-official what if fan fiction from the original writers lol

I completely get what you mean about the comics, cuz I kind of view official comics like fanfictions even in their own right? I mean when you think back on like Bill finger and Bob Kane like eventually every other writer is going to be writing fanfiction of their characters but it's really fun to go through all the different Batman media and see whose stories you kind of like more and then whose stories you kind of tend to avoid

and when I mentioned I knew you liked comics, I was also speaking more from the perspective that you seem to have more knowledge about them Rather than I thought you had a preference for them, because you put together that comic PDF with batjokes moments and I was really impressed with that ☺️

i love your telltale fics and the games as a beautiful breath of fresh air into the life of batman so sometimes I like to imagine the animated series would be a great way to say where is juce 10 years later, if those universes were more cohesive setting wise lmao

Yeah, Barbara randomly being Alfred's niece is definitely one of the aspects of B&R that just… I guess it breaks up the campiness? That and Ivy being in love with Freeze for no discernable reason. And teaming up with him even though he'll kill her plants. And poor Bane! And then that weird bit at the end where Freeze is sort of forgiven but Ivy can't be? And Alfred almost dies. Should taken all that stuff out and added more camp.

I really enjoyed Batman Beyond too! I didn't even realize a lot of people didn't like it until recently. Honestly it's one of those things where I don't look into the reasons too much. lol I liked it and I'm fine with having liked it, no notes!! (OK I sorta lied. That bit in JLU where they made Bruce Terry's bio dad, that was bizarre.)

I am definitely in the "anything not created by Bill Finger and Bob Kane might as well be fanfic" camp. Like, sure, if DC puts resources behind a project, it has a better chance at being worth your time, but when I get down to it, I can't put a lot of weight behind the idea that someone's official derivative story is more valid than another someone's derivative AO3 post just because there was a cash exchange with a company that owns the original "asset." People who want to lean into that idea, that's their business.

The wild thing about the batjokes spreadsheet is I know that it's only a fraction of what's out there. I have read hundreds of comics at this point and I still feel like it's not enough to totally have a handle on things. Especially knowing how little I've retained. 😅 But that's another reason for the spreadsheet!

Thank you for enjoying my fics! And for implanting the idea in my head of a Telltale universe animated series… Just hijinks and maybe a little more murder with John and Bruce, bestest buddies.

[givehimthemedicine]

more thoughts on Hawkins Lab / memory alteration / NINA / the rainbow rooms / Kali / Henry / El / Terry

(of possible interest to laozuspo and aemiron-main bc of that other HNL post / possible implications for Henry. no pressure tho you guys are both way ahead of me on this investigation)

Owens implies that he developed the NINA program only since El's power loss in case she ever needed it restored, but I have very strong doubts.

how does Owens know that NINA could bring El's powers back stronger than before unless this technique has already been used? best-case-scenario, tested on someone during recent development to make sure it works for El, but worst-case and more probable scenario, used to psychologically manipulate or bring out powers in the lab kids, maybe even El herself, in the past. maybe even Terry Ives (Becky specifically mentioned Terry doing sensory deprivation tank experiments, which is a component of NINA).

HNL has need to alter potentially all the kids' memories, not just Henry

the lab wants all those kids uniform and tractable, so they'll make good little lab rats / spies / assassins, right?

the lab-born kids like El would be relatively easy to mold, because the lab is all they know. but what about Kali, Henry, and any other kids who were wild-caught old enough to remember their former lives? you'd think even remembering the fact that there IS a world outside the lab would make them harder to control. don't they need to be wiped of their memories of their past lives and stripped of individuality, identity?

you would probably also want to wipe any kid after sending them on psionic spying / assassination missions so they don't retain classified info or gain too much knowledge of the outside world, lest they become an escape risk.

I think there's a strong possibility that NINA or equivalent was already used throughout the HNL program for this purpose.

I don't know how you straight up delete memories, but it's easy to see how NINA could be used to plant fabricated replacement memories. add a dash of brainwashing and presto.

Kali tells a little of her life after the lab, but I don't remember her saying anything about before it. all our knowledge about her kidnapping comes from that newspaper clipping, right? do you think she remembers her former life?

Henry is the only other kid we know is wild-caught, and he still has his pre-lab memories, but maybe that doesn't matter in his case because he's uniquely kept in line with soteria.

Two - Eighteen have to be free to use their powers for experimentation, so the lab can't soteria them, they have to be controlled a different way. the most secure way to keep someone imprisoned isn't with strong locks, it's for them not to fully realize they are imprisoned or that escape is even an option. I doubt any of the kids like the lab, but they probably have a limited awareness that there is any other place.

Henry's pre-lab memories could also have been made safe for him to keep (tampered with). we know Virginia was in cahoots with Brenner before Henry even went to the lab, and I wouldn't put it past her to cooperate with the creation of staged footage of Henry's home life to NINA him with. possibly even Alice, unwittingly. not Victor.

now let's talk about the rainbow room(s)

Kali and El both refer to a "rainbow room" in season 2, but the room we see in Terry's memories bears basically no resemblance to the season 4 one.

the areas Terry is seen searching look reasonably like a 70's hospital, and the rainbow room looks like be a small exam-room type area. but season 4's rainbow room is big, with tiled halls, heavy metal doors, high security, the whole works.

these definitely can't be the same room, but I've always wondered whether we're supposed to just fudge it and consider them to be the same?

did the lab retool and get a high-security makeover after the Terry incident, or did both places exist the whole time?

I haven't scoured every frame of the show so tell me if I'm off, but I think I'm deciding that no, the two rainbow rooms aren't supposed to be the same, and that HNL has always had both a publicly presentable hospital area (where the s2 rainbow room is), and a more intense locked-down lab/prison area (where the s4 rainbow room is). they serve the same purpose, just with different security levels.

the lab isn't the mid-70's hospital area made-over because for one thing, they still have a hospital area when Will is a patient there in 1984. this doesn't look like Terry's exact hallway, but note those wood-veneer doors and square plated handles.

HNL has always been both a "hospital" and a prison.

from the path we see Hopper take in 1x5, it would appear that the tiled hallway familiar to us from s1, El's room, etc, is on the ground floor, just beyond a keycard security access point. we see him get in the elevator and go down to the water tank / mothergate floor. he later describes this to Joyce as "upstairs vs downstairs".

but the lab is at least a handful of stories tall. so I feel like the hospital area must be on the second floor or up.

we aren't shown the path that Terry Ives takes to locate her rainbow room, but we do see her come walking from the direction of what looks like elevators just before she finds it, opposite bright windows, which I'm taking to mean that the Terry rainbow room was on an upper floor. not on the same floor as the s4 rainbow room.

tangent: is the hospital where Sara died supposed to also be Hawkins Lab? I thought that was in New York? this looks like a different landing in the same stairwell. I'm confused about the Hopper lore because I think some of it comes from the novels I haven't read and idk whether we accept that as canon. please advise?

anyway, idea: were the lab kids not numbered, not officially program subjects, from birth?

little Kali and El have long hair and seem allowed to wear fairly normal clothes during their free time. the tattoos go on left wrists and I don't think I see one on baby El, not that we're given a very good look.

the lab kids seem to be roughly a year apart each, but they don't go all the way down to babies. the youngest (Eighteen)'s actor was probably 7 or 8 at the time of filming. so there is such a thing as a minimum age for the program.

It can't be that they didn't start numbering the kids until after the Terry memory, because we saw Henry get tattooed in '59 or '60, very possibly before Two was even born.

I'm now chewing on a scenario where maybe young prospective lab kids were kept in a lesser-security area to be evaluated, and officially made test subjects only once they demonstrated powers.

after all, Brenner took newborn El because he expected Terry's abilities to be passed down, but you can't ask a baby to do telekinesis for you. it'll be a while before you get proof. and the lab can't be handing out number tattoos too hastily and wasting resources on some kids for years only to find they show no promise.

we know that didn't happen because there are no numbers 001-018 unaccounted for. no failed discarded subjects.

if not all people have equal latent potential, you can't pick all winners from the getgo, and if you also don't discard any failed numbers, that means you'd have to evaluate a bunch of kids, keep the best for the program, and discard the others before they ever become numbers. and if you do that (without just killing them), you probably wanna wipe their memories first so they don't go around telling what you're up to. this avenue of thought may be of interest to Will-as-a-lab-kid truthers (doesn't this require Will to be missing from home for a chunk of his childhood? explain to me please).

a program intake system like this could help explain how all the kids can be numbered neatly in order of age despite the ages of wild-caught kids being impossible to anticipate, which has bothered me for a long time. edit: I may have misjudged Kali's age, although if any other kids were wild caught I guess the question still bears asking

I hc this memory to have occurred during that preliminary observation time, unless they just didn't start shaving heads until the mid 70's. electric shock seems overboard for standard kid misbehavior. Kali must have already demonstrated psychic potential in order to be kidnapped in the first place, so I imagine this was probably disciplinary action for refusing to use her powers for them.

now let's look at El's and Kali's memories:

what event is this describing? if Kali escaped before El, how was Kali the one who found El gone?

could this be when El disappeared from rainbow room 1 and taken to rainbow room 2? did Kali ever see rainbow room 2?

or was El just in sick bay or isolation or something, and Kali thought she was gone-gone?

Henry corroborates Kali's escape being prior to El's. this puts Kali's escape after - what, say 73? 74? but before 79.

El apparently has no memory of Kali except for the one she got from Terry. did El lose her Kali memories (along with pre-massacre memories in general) from the coma, or did the lab wipe/brainwash her after Kali's escape, not wanting her to remember her at all?

because it's funny that even during the scene where Henry is jogging El's memory about Terry's visit, that same Kali rainbow room footage all we see. I know the scene was about her remembering Terry, not Kali, but it makes me wonder if she remembered that scene by way of her 1986 knowledge, or if that's also all 1979 El remembered about Kali?

El is struggling with the cognitive dissonance here - she insists that Mama died making her, even though she also does successfully recall the memory Henry is describing, and it upsets her. again, I imagine NINA is a lot better at restoring or implanting memories than at deleting them, so you'd have to rely heavily on old fashioned brainwashing to try to cover up an event like this. until Henry brought it up in 1979, El probably believed she had imagined it.

WHY does Kali pause like that before calling the Terry/rainbow room footage a "memory"? it makes me feel like she questions its veracity. either Kali was given different information about how kids enter the program, or she knows that isn't really how El's situation went down. or something. I'm suspicious of ALL lab related memories, even from the good guys.

flies in my ointment:

if Kali finding El gone is describing a time when El was taken out of my theoretical observation area and locked fully into the program, before Kali, you'd think she would have a lower number

if Kali escaped the observation area before she ever made it into the program proper, how was she already known as Eight? unless they were all numbered unofficially before that and just not tattooed yet, and if you gotta discard a kid you recycle their number

if you don't earn your number/tattoo/spot in the program until you're at least something years old, I wonder if El wasn't called Eleven as a toddler? Kali asks her name, she says Jane, and then Kali checks her wrist for the tattoo. I can't actually recall any proof that Kali remembers El as Eleven.

spinning my propeller hat and honking my clown nose:

HNL has high security and Terry already shot a guy on her way in. she had to have already had some idea of where to look in order to find El before the guards got to her. somebody told her where. hint: Henry somehow

did Henry lie and tell Kali that El was gone to prompt Kali's escape?

did Henry think he was telling the truth when he told Kali that El was gone, but really Brenner fed him that?

Kali seems less empathetic than El, do you think Henry would've had a similar alliance with her? why would he choose her to help escape. or did she not need help escaping?

why don't these people just ask each other the most obvious questions in the world AAAAAAHHH

[spaceorphan18]

I saw someone in the Glee tag say that Glee fans don't like S4 because all the characters are separated (ship-wise & location-wise), the storylines are ridiculous, and the music selections aren't good or memorable. They also said they don't like S4 because Dantana was an insult to Brittana fans and the ship doesn't even make sense. This person also mentioned that they believe S3 is one of the most stable seasons with less annoying drama than the others. I only bring this up because I know you have asked about why fans like S3 and dislike later seasons, so I thought this might give you an insight into how some fans view it. Personally, I don't agree with any of that, but I often see things very differently than the majority of fandom.

So, out of curiosity, I went into the glee tag and, you guys, like, it's been kicked around that I'm well known and stuff but -- there are posts in that tag with hundreds to thousands of notes on them. I sometimes get maybe five. I appreciate those of you who are here, but I have never had a post go viral and probably never will.

Also, 95% of it was Brittana related. Ah, times have changed.

Anyway... not the point, Nonny this is such interesting feedback! Thank you for sharing and, is it wrong that I'm kind of laughing?

Glee fans don't like S4 because all the characters are separated (ship-wise & location-wise), the storylines are ridiculous, and the music selections aren't good or memorable.

'story lines are ridiculous' -- um...did they not watch the first three seasons? What about faking a pregnancy wasn't ridiculous? Terri was so over the top just... huh? Glee was always bonkers, it's one reason I liked it. Also there are some damn good musical selections in Seasons 4 and 5 (though I do agree that musically Season 6 is weak). But the story of Season 6 is just fantastic. (And bonkers. I love absurdity though)

This person also mentioned that they believe S3 is one of the most stable seasons with less annoying drama than the others.

I'd argue that S3 had some of the most annoying drama, but ymmv.

But... I think this speaks to a point I made a while ago. Season 3 does have the most structured-ness of any of the seasons. It's a three act story with an outcome that gives you exactly what you were expecting. And I do think people find comfort in that conformity.

Season 4 does change things... a lot... And something I've never really considered until now -- that Season 4 becomes even more jarring after how mundane Season 3 is. One of my issues with Season 3 is that they play it safe and standard every step of the way, which makes it kind of boring, tbh. But going from that kind of stableness to the bonkers Season 4, especially in the beginning, makes it feel like even more like an abrupt change, and people bulk at change a lot of the time. (Like I've said - even I had a hard time with it at the time.)

They also said they don't like S4 because Dantana was an insult to Brittana fans and the ship doesn't even make sense.

This is the part that had me laughing, though. Dani made perfect sense, so I don't even know what that means. Also Dani didn't come in until Season 5, yeah, whatever on that point. And it's not an insult to Brittana fans, omg. Klaine had fucking Blainofsky to deal with, I just can't, I'm laughing.

Also, the writers never owed any of us anything. Maybe it's because I am creator, Idk, but I've always taken issue with how entitled fans get sometimes. And this isn't just a Brittana thing - this is all fandoms everywhere.

I will say - I can understand Brittana fans having a different perspective on things re: Season 4 and 5 especially since Brittana wasn't really a part of it? And that's fine? Be honest about that. That I can get on board with.

Also, Nonny, what even is majority these days? Things always keep changing, who knows.

Thanks for dropping a line - this has been fun! <3

[hermanunworthy]

!DNDADS S2 EP37 SPOILERS!

im a bit late bc i was at work all day but time for ep37 reactions!! i cant believe its already here

- now ive heard everyone talking about the intro i bet its gonna be a rickroll or some shit

- ITS FUCKINF ALL STAR. I KNEW THEY WOULD PULL SOMETHING LIKE THIS

- A TEENAGE GIRLS PARENT JUST GOT SHOT AND KILLED AND UR PLAYING ALL STAR.

- hermie mention in the intro im so calm and cool and chill about this /j

- "ur enough as u are" AINT NO WAY UR ABOUT TO MAKE ME START CRYING OVER A PARODY OF SMASH MOUTHS ALL STAR. WHY DID U HAVE TO PULL OUT THE BIG GUNS

- I DONT WANT THE TAYLOR VOICE CHANGE GOD NO

- MATT IM SCREAMING

- WILL CAMPOS U ABSOLUTE MADMAN. i already knew he was gonna find a way around using revivify but THAT WAS WILD

- are people gonna start drawing normal w that piece of jewelry now. bc i wanna. i already like drawing him w bracelets

- oh god what is beths fact gonna be.

- "i just keep meeting all the right people at all the wrong times" BETH MAY U ARE EVIL. THE PLOT OF THIS EPISODE HASNT EVEN STARTED AND IM ALREADY EMO

- ITS STARTING. OH NO

- NICKY BETTER FUCKING SHOW UP im curious to see what they actually decided on for the reason for him not being there last episode

- HERMIE WAS REMEMBERED giggles and kicks my feet

- TAYLOR AND LINCOLN ARENT AWARE THAT TERRY IS DEAD RN.

- were getting terris reaction rn i cant believe this is happening

- IM starting to feel sick godddd

- i bet im gonna see art of the lincoln and taylor piggyback ride hehe

- OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD TERRIS ASLEEP THIS MEANS WERE GONNA GET SCARY BACK. ALSO IS SHE GONNA SEE WILLY OH NOOOO

- NO NO NO NO NONONO

- "theres my girl" STFUUUUUU

- DOES SCARY REMEMBER ANYTHING??? DOES SHE KNOW WHATS GOING ON????

- "just wake him up" I. HATE. THIS EPSIODE

- SCARY GETTING CHOKED UP I CANT DO THIS

- TERRY DIDNT EVEN NEED TO DIE FUCK THIS

- "whoooa shit thats fucked up!" anthony burch i know u are just so incredibly pleased w urself.

- SCARYS STILL PRETENDING LIKE SHE DOESNT CARE ABOUT TERRY. JUST FEEL UR FEELINGS GIRL GOOD GOD

- "EMBARRASSING"??? FOR A KID TO BE UPSET THAT ONE OF THEIR PARENTS GOT MURDERED???? WILLY STAMPLER WTF IS WRONG W U

- there was never a more obvious lie than willy saying hell revive terry

- 19 INSIGHT LETS GOOO

- THATS RIGHT SCARY. STAND THE FUCK UP TO HIM

- NORMAL DESPERATELY TRYING TO HELP AWWWW MAN :[[ I HATE THIS

- PUTS MY HEAD IN MY HANDS. THIS IS SO DEEPLY UPSETTING

- WHEN WE SAID WE WANTED MORE SCARY AND NORMAL INTERACTIONS WE DIDNT THINK ITD BE LIKE THIS!!!

- THE TWINS ARE HERE NOW OMG

- beth is out for fucking blood this episode. god she is so good at making the audience feel for her characters

- SHES TELEPORTING TO GRANT?? IM NOT READY YET

- "hes dangerous! get away from him!" THE FACT THAT THIS IS LINCOLN SAYING THIS ABOUT GRANT BREAKS MY HEART

- SCARY HAS A GUN FUCK YEAH!!!

- FIRST HERMIE SPEAKING LINE OF THE EPISODE YIPPEEEE

- halfway through the episode now. cant wait to see what could possibly go wrong next!!

- i love whenever anthony allows a fun rulebreaking idea to work

- IDK WHY THE IDEA OF THE KIDDADS HAVING A GC IS SO FUNNY TO ME

- rons status remains a mystery....

- "we could do a whole scene w just hermie and all the other ones" u joke matt but i enjoy every scene w hermie no matter how unnecessary and drawn out

- as always linc and taylor are such a funny iconic duo

- WERE FINALLY GETTING ANGRY NORMAL??? FINALLY????

- WILL WITHDRAWING HIS COOL MOVE LMAO

- i just realized WE STILL HAVENT SEEN NICKY!!! GODDAMN!!!

- "the gayest fucking mecha of all time" swiftli fans do u like the new ship name /j

- ig i cannot deny it anymore swiftli is practically canon atp

- NICKY!!!! NICKY!!!!! I SHOT STRAIGHT UP IN MY SEAT

- NICKY AND HERMIE ARE FINALLY INTERACTING. PRAISE THE LORD

- i thought nicky got all his limbs back?? did anthony just forget

- btw ive probably been waking up my whole house w how hard im laughing over swiftli this episode

- LINCOLNS GONNA PUNCH GRANT WHOA. WHOA

- "so what are u gonna do, ur gonna kill me?" as i said before. i hate this episode.

- SCARY OBLITERATED PAPA JOHN SO FAST WHOA.

- THE DUNGEON SETUP VS THE TONE OF THE EPISODE HELPPP

- i just had such a weird thought/prediction. but i will hold my tongue. bc the last time i said something like this it came true and i do not want this to come true

- IS SCARY GONNA BREAK IT W LOVE FOR TERRY. I CANT DO THIS

- "i love u and i hate that u made me love u when u are who u are and u knew it." I WISH U COULD SEE MY FUCKING FACE RN. HOLYYY SHIT THATS DEVASTATING

- oh. my. good. lord.

- GUYS????? I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW. HOLY FUCK. THAT WAS HEAVY AS SHIT