#but its possible he had a different website before that that might have mentioned it. considering how long hes been online for

[sonknuxadow]

you sent me down the Sonic name rabbit hole and the misinformation is even more stupid then originally intended.

Archie Sonics Middle name being Maurice had only appeared twice in comic form, once as a definite joke and once as a dubious joke (hard to say if it was serious since it doubled as a throw back joke) but Maurice was kinda an inside joke for the most part and they even poked fun at it in one of the Sonic Prime adverts.

Olgilvie is where it gets stupid. Sonics 'first name' was never given in canon but was allegedly posted on Penders own website, saying that he intended it to be his first name but never actually applied it. I say allegedly because finding actual proof is basically impossible. There's no screenshots of the website, Penders never posted about it on social media and there doesn't appear to be any interviews with Penders saying so either. It is entirely possible that this was just a made up rumour/someones personal head canon posted on a mid 90s forum that spun out of control.

yeah i definitely think his middle name being maurice was just a joke at first and it was only mentioned by the characters themselves twice that i remember, but there were also multiple character profiles for sonic that mentioned his middle name being maurice and/or sonic not being his birth name, so it Was intended to be canon. but again the same cannot be said for olgilvie, i cant remember a single time the name was ever mentioned in the comic and other writers have said that it isnt considered canon

as far as penders himself talking about this goes, i actually did manage to find a couple tweets of his that mention it but theyre actually very recent and in response to someone asking about it, i still cant find the original source for this claim anywhere. but i do have some stuff to say about the tweets so.

part of the conversation is cut out because i didnt wanna post screenshots of some random persons tweets, but basically someone was asking where he originally confirmed this, where the inspiration for the name came from, and if anyone else used it. which as you can see he didnt really answer that first question. and he also says he DID use the name in one issue, but hes blatantly wrong here because issue 53 doesnt say sonics name is olgilvie, just that his birth name isnt sonic and his middle name is maurice. so hes definitely misremembering some details here

now im not saying this is actually what happened but wouldnt it be so funny if penders never intended for his name to be olgilvie specifically but someone on the internet just made it up and it became so widespread that penders himself even believed it and thats why no one not even him can provide the source for where this was originally stated

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[visarcana]

What do we know about... Cesario (Chezario)

For those who keep up with the fic; last we were somewhere around the country of Cesario (otherwise known as Chezario, which is closer to how it’s pronounced in the original). Let’s scour the artbooks and all for info about this Gaean country!

Previously in the WDWK series: Basram, Egzardia

Canon information

1. Cesario is the country that asks Van to lead their decimated vanguard to “boost the troop morale.”

The situation is, Van comes back after retrieving Hitomi (episode 24), and lands at a Cesarian military camp, in an unspecified area close(r) to the Zaibach border. The soldiers say they were humiliated as they were overwhelmed by Zaibach’s military might. The state of the camp is pitiful with many dead and many destroyed melefs. 

By the way, there are Cesario troops and leviships in Palas at the same time, so the defeated camp is definitely not all of the country’s army.

Next time we see Van, the main Alliance army is arrived but he is still with this Cesario force and separate from Allen and the others, so it seems there was a bit of camaraderie present at that point if they stayed together instead of Van joining the Asturians as usual.

The filmbook has a note saying they “value knighthood” and “take it upon themselves to spearhead the attack against Zaibach”. From this, I sort of always had a headcanon that people would know and like Van in Cesario. Like, if they like honor and chivalry, and they appreciate the young boy and his legendary guymelef enough to ask him to lead them, you just sort of know they have a fondness for a story like that and see magic in it.

2. The design of the soldiers/guymelefs

The design of the Cesarian characters looks like medieval European knights, I would even go as far as to say, actual Crusaders (not to be confused with the Crusade crew).

The settei gives us, as usual, an image of an ordinary soldier and of a general, plus the general’s name. This time, it’s Ferme (Ferume) or its variations. Easter egg, Escaflowne Compendium had a mention of “Vermeer” in the code on the subpage about characters (it was something that was not visible on the website itself), I believe it could be one of the many possible transcriptions of this guy’s name from Japanese (I don’t think there is a source for that or any other romanization though and that’s probably the reason why it was hidden from view).

By the way, the names of these generals are pretty solidly confirmed; I have found three artbook sources for them already although they are never used in the series and the whole role of the alliance generals is practically to order their troops to turn on each other. Here is the Ferme guy calling for Cesario to “use the chance to rise to lead Gaea,” please note the color scheme looks a bit different in episode 26 (pale blue instead of dark).

Anyway, back to the design. The chainmail, the cross-quartered overshirt... where does it lead? I think the answer is pretty clear this time...

First of all, it has to be said Crusades are WAY older stuff than what I found before, showing the inspiration for the designs of soldiers of Basram or Egzardia that seems to be the 17th-19th century Europe, which is coincidentally also the level of development of Gaea according to the official materials. Crusades are hundreds of years before that! Plus, there were several of them, spanning centuries.

So, finding a drawing of a Crusader that would be authentic, non-fictional, and from the same period, is way harder. Many of the illustrations from which we form the image of a crusader come from later period, especially around the romantism movement in 19th century. And these representations, especially the most common image of templars, fit our Cesarians quite well. 

With the way their head gear is constructed, I think the reference may have been some encyclopaedia depiction of knights templar. These are some of the closest examples I could find (obviously, the variation is too great and probably also was with the real people).

But just out of curiosity I took a look:at the contemporary art (14th/15th century and older), it seems way harder to detect that typical image of the crusader with that huge cross across his chest, but yeah, you can obviously often see the motif of a cross and the chain mail.

And these two are prominent even in the design of our Cesarians. The same shape is visible even on their guymelefs (title picture), and yep, on their flag.

4. The flag/coat of arms

The cross on Cesarians seems to match the design of their flag, and to me, it looks nothing more like than the sword handle/crossguard. 

This time again, we don’t have the official Sunrise image for ants but we have plenty sources of how it should look in color so I spent 3000 hours in MS Paint and there you go.

Anyway, the sword hilt would obviously match it being such a heroic and militaristic country, although it’s quite simple imagery, I like the decorative detail put in there. Any other ideas?

5. Cesario is a neighboring country to Asturia and possibly to Zaibach

I repeat myself once again, this is because we know Asturia formed an alliance with its neighboring countries (episode 23) and Cesario came to their help. But actually, this is also confirmed in the text of the Roman Artbook. 

It also strongly looks like they may share a border also with Zaibach, although the filmbooks just say they are in the vanguard in the attack against them. That was my idea without looking at the books anyway since they are attacked by them in that camp and once the main force arrives to the same place and then they practically fight to invade Zaibach already! 

There is a bit of a mystery of Zaibach general Adelphos, too, who is impatiently waiting for the orders to attack “the alliance filth” that he believes can be easily defeated. After this scene, we are shown Allen and the alliance main force still in Asturia, so it seems Adelphos could have meant these Cesarians? 

So, from all this, it would seem to me the main forces of Zaibach and the Alliance have gathered on the border between Cesario and Zaibach although it does not say explicitly that in the canon.

And what did I do with this for the fic? Well, we currently (as of chapter 16) find ourselves in Cesario. For a quick recap, Van escaped Fanelia with Hitomi, and, followed by a Zaibach squad headed out north. They got as far as Cesarian forests, where they were reunited with Crusade who had visited Fanelia shortly after their escape and started searching for them. And here is where they come across the Cesarian elite squad. 

I just sketched those characters vaguely in my head but I wanted to make them, you know, elite knights who are admirable for their strength but also kind of scary, especially to a POV character like Hitomi. Van leaves with them on their leviship that is also a pride of Cesarian army. Anyway, this elite force is also present in the questioning of the prisoners from chapter 16, again, I’m not too explicit due to POVs used, but obviously, when Van arrived to the camp up north with them, they planned their actions together and they will continue to be together for a while. 

We’ll see how much detail I’ll include about these guys in the next few chapters. Regarding Cesario itself, I imagine a pretty big country. Because I imagine Zaibach (including conquested land) as even bigger and if these guys are able to hold the candle to them, they probably aren’t little or weak either. Since we are coming up north, I imagined a lot of forests but also increasingly mountains. I also made them more technologically advanced than the medieval designs suggest; simply because they are close to Zaibach and these things tend to spill over the borders, unless you are a really isolated country. And if you’re waging a war against such an advanced enemy, technological progress becomes a matter of your survival. So yeah, after few years, these guys will not be so easily wiped out as they describe in the episode 25 scene.

The scene showed in the anime shows bare stone landscape that looks similar to what we see of Zaibach, but I decided it is just that particular area. Alliance is trying to make a breach from a different point, and the sceneries will be much different there. Bit of it was already revealed through Hitomi’s eyes when they make a stop in the Cesarian city. Allen rides to send a message to his king (I was not explicit but this is what he did there) and Crusade is refueling a bit. Hitomi makes some observations of the land and the city. 

Another bit is the camp and the mountainous border that we explore from both sides in chapter 16. I imagine pretty bleak (but beautiful) mountains and snow plains. Similar to the background of this blog, actually, one of the reasons I picked it! By the way, we will spend some more time here, so I will use Cesario as a playground some more!

[pohjalainen]

We can't have a constructive discussion on the Kalevala and its relationship with cultural appropriation without first seeing it for what it truly is - a multicultural hybrid that pulls from many sources.

And claiming otherwise is proof of how little people know about this topic, the contents found within the book, the origin and history of the project, and the cultures and tradition the book borrows from.

There are misconceptions (and a bad game of telephone) at play when it comes to this topic: first one being that Kalevala "belongs" to finns, and the second one being that it "belongs" to karelians. Neither of these ideas are correct nor are they based in reality. This false narrative is solely driven by emotions rather than fact on both sides of this argument, and it leaves out everyone else whose tradition and beliefs are used in the mythos of this story book, including ingrians and ostrobothnians, such as myself. My home is the starting point of the entire project, including runes and concepts which were collected and documented before the birth of karelianism. Without ostrobothnia there would be no Kalevala. The start of the project is never discussed in a truthful manner and I just can't imagine why. I hope it stems from ignorance and lack of research, because honestly I've mostly seen people parrot the same exact unsourced claims without anyone fact-checking what they're actually saying. Finns have historically not been a monolith and to this day some still aren't, for example many ostrobothnians would proudly declare that they weren't finns up to the 1900s. It's also wrong to simply divide Finland into west and east, as this is a bit too simplistic and it creates a binary that doesn't exactly exists. The truth of the matter is that there isn't just one culture, ethnicity, country or peoples who can claim the Kalevala for itself. Nor many the "characters" included, such as Väinämöinen, who is a prominent figure in the runes and beliefs of multiple cultures, such as mine. He doesn't belong to anyone nor can anyone claim him, especially when you consider the fact that his role and nature differs depending on who you ask. Trying to hog a widespread concept to one peoples/culture is ignorant at best and erasure at worst. It's downright depressing to see the "Lönnrot came up with (ostrobothnian deity)" and "finns didn't think their own culture was exotic enough" lies spread around every website. Lönnrot was first familiarised with concepts and ideas Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen, Louhi, Pimentola/Pohjola (to name a few) from published ostrobothnian runes and lexicons, namely Mythologia Fennica. He was familiar with these concepts long before he ventured to Kainuu and Viena, he knew what he was looking for thanks to all the published works he was able to get his hands on. In fact the main reason he went eastward was because he thought he wouldn’t be able to find new material from the documented places in Ostrobothnia, and thus decided he might be able to find more material for his “longer narrative” elsewhere (1). After learning that merchants from Vuokkiniemi had recently visited Zacharias Topelius in Uusikaarlepyy/Nykarleby, he decided to head there next. Even Viena, where most runes were collected, has a unique culture due to being settled by karelians in the 1500s, and ostrobothnians in the 1600s (many of them rune singers). No doubt that pieces of the indigenous sámi (most of whom were pushed northward by the arrival of karelians) also persist in the culture of the region (possibly along with savonian and tavastian settler influence) (2). Just because these populations assimilated into karelians doesn't mean they shouldn't be mentioned when discussing the culture of Viena, and of course Kalevala. While I understand the frustration around this subject, and I do think much of it is justified, it's extremely disheartening to see just how easily attempts at conversation are shot down by both finns and karelians, and how quick people are to completely disregard and shun other cultures and peoples involved... and for what? I understand the anger, but it won't take us anywhere. It’s detrimental to push down others when attempting to uplift one’s own culture.

 I truly wish people did more research on this subject and started to actually respect and acknowledge the cultures involved - and I mean all of them. The ignorance and staggering lack of research concerning this topic is unbelieveable.. and of course extremely saddening. 

Footnotes:

 He explained this in the foreword of old Kalevala. (X)

Karjalan sivistysseura - website’s History section on the settlement of Viena. (X)

I find these two sources the most important to the conversation; however everything I’ve just said is quite easy to research, especially if you speak finnish and swedish. These are not the only sources either, and everyone familiar with this topic knows how skewed this conversation is online, especially on tumblr and twitter.

[charlierejouis]

2023: The Year of Universe Zero

Last year was been quite a year, huh? It was a crazy and eventful year. I haven’t done too much outside of Quick Notes on this website. So I’ve had a lot of time to think through doing this.

This post will be different than the past years. Normally, I would talk about the seven best things to happen in the year for EZ fans. (I’d also have done it in 2023.) But outside of the anime, anything else I could mention involves the same thing: the shift into Universe Zero.

This was the second biggest thing on last year’s list, but barely. The only reason I didn’t have it as number one was because its overall impact on the series had yet to be made clear. It’s hard to think of anything in the manga this hasn’t affected last year.

So as the year has ended and Mashima seems dead set to end the series, it’s about time to ask an important question: is Universe Zero a good thing or a bad thing?

Let’s get the obvious out of the way. Many of the more tragic after-effects from before have been undone. Every character who died in the last universe has come back alive. All kinds of other tragic events have either been undone or lessened.

I know the way both sides feel. The negative side is that any tension from before is dissipated. The comeback for that is that having everyone come back gives the EZ crew more to protect. I lean towards the latter, especially considering I made a similar case when we learned the nature of Cat Leaper.

Though, you might remember that I made a bit of a bold prediction in that post. I said that Mashima could use the concept of what we’ve come to know as changing universes to bring about particularly drastic results for example all the past villains get together and form a super evil coalition against the EZ crew.

What happened in 2023?

The Oracion Seis Galactica came back. Deadend Crow and God Acnoella are joined by an evil AI made by Professor Weisz and Dr. Muller. No matter who the other two members were, this was an amazing setup for the group. Outside of the group, Drakken Joe and Poseidon Nero team up against the EZ crew, with Sister, Kris, and Kleene. Poseidon Shura brings the Ocean Six back into the fray. And behind all of this, the EDENS ONE, Void, and the Dark Starts are racing towards Mother, who is on the verge of dying.

So, the stakes are the highest possible, right?

Well, only kind of?

Not to disrespect anything I mentioned before, but it’s not like I figured it would be. Ignore the EZ Crew in what I’m about to say. Weirdly, this universe is a kinder version than before. (Such a Mashima fan complaint.) Mashima is amazing at dramatic situations, more than he’s often given credit for. Though, as you might tell from my jokes about his “school of despair”, things end up a bit too happy. It feels like this universe was a way to reset crazy things on a large scale.

Drakken Joe, the villain responsible for stealing the life spans of people around the planet, including Weisz’s mother? Now he uses animal life to keep himself going.

The battle between Oasis and the Aoi Empire, which is one of the most pivotal series of events in the past two universes? They realize they have a common enemy and fight him quickly.

Dr. Muller, arguably the most evil villain in the series, and easily my favorite villain? Weren’t you paying attention? He’s that common enemy. The Rutherfords don’t even get a shot at him despite teasing the idea.

And then there’s the EZ crew.

Probably my biggest complaint about this situation is one that I have with a lot of Mashima’s writing. We don’t get to see stuff we should. We should see how and when everyone came to realize that they’re in the new universe. I think the best chapter in this arc, and possibly the series, was the last chapter from last year. We had a repeat of the last chapter with a couple of twists. It ends with them realizing what happened.

It was cool to see how the EZ crew members came to remember things. My favorite one was Homura. Unlike most of the members, her recollection didn’t come from seeing the other members of the EZ crew or being on the EZ. It wasn’t until she was reunited with Valkyrie that the memories came flooding back. (More on this to come.) But we should have seen this for all the members. What made Laguna Hermit and the Rutherfords remember their place on the EZ crew?

And I can’t stand the training and handling of new powers in old bodies. I hate that things played out how they did. They just catch onto things they know despite their bodies having to adjust. Making Over Drive work is one thing. Cat Leaper coming back was a slap in the face. I would have been fine if the effects stayed, but they didn’t. The training should have been a mini-arc. But, again, Mashima is dead set on ending this series soon.

I must admit that I enjoy the positive gains the EZ crew has experienced. Homura was able to reconcile with her mother more realistically. (Loathe as I am to admit, no one is as cruel as the original Kurenai in real life.) Weisz gets to be with his mother again. Even Happy is a real cat and not a cyborg – a point that causes issues during fights.

And, speaking of positive changes for the EZ crew, we haven’t even gotten to the biggest one of all: all four of the Shining Stars have been reunited. It only took around four years from when the idea was teased on Sun Jewel, but Witch, Sister, Hermit, and Valkyrie Yuna are all on the same ship again. On one level, it feels cheap that they’re back. But, to be honest, it makes perfect sense. The whole universe was reset to the time before Witch Regret’s sacrifice. And with a Kurenie who’s helping the resistance, this wouldn’t lead to the incident that did Valkyrie in.

The most fun thing about the Shining Stars all being back is the allusions to the distant future. These were teased during the Aoi Cosmos war, but we’re getting a better look at what led to the Shining and Dark Stars to exist. I won’t pretend I understand much of it. However, the lore behind this whole thing could blow a hole through much of our current understanding of the series, depending on how Mashima takes it.

Speaking of Mashima, I’ve hinted at this multiple times, but I need to talk about this. Mashima has said that he wished for this universe to be much happier. It seems that he isn’t too comfortable with the dark aspects of this and any series he writes. It’s a shame because it’s one of the best things he does.

In Conclusion:

Seeing things play out in Universe Zero is as much of a grab bag as so much of Mashima’s writing. A lot of good has happened and a lot of bad. As always, let’s just stick along for the ride and see how things play out.

[ithisatanytime]

bladee - let's ride (slowed + reverb)

 all day i was thinking about whether or not to make a post that was basically expanding on an oft repeated phrase of mine “indians are just professional bag holders for the jews” whether that even needed more explanation when i tried to google “is it possible to get rock n rye with caffeine include”? i know the answer was gonna be no but i just wanted the conversation you know? but no matter how i worded that phrase i couldnt find any relevant discussion, which if you are a zoomer thats normal but google didnt used to be that way, so then, again knowing the answer i googled who is the ceo of google and the answer is “ Sundar Pichai and hes indian mans. so i will expand a little. when i say that indians are professional bag holders for jews what you need to understand is that dravidian indians are most closely related to aboriginal australians, who have the lowest IQ on planet earth (the darker gypsies of england are descended from dravidians and therefore related to abbos as well) pygmy africans might be a bit lower but at this point we are splitting hairs, the difference between an african american and an aboriginal australian in average IQ is far greater than between an african american and an east asian, which is to say its very significant. these indians cheat, it is a point of pride in their culture to scam and cheat, and they make up a lot of their credentials, they arent very bright and they are almost always leftists, they are so glad to be out of india and in a position of power that they will do anything to maintain it. what jews do, is they will completely gut a service like youtube or google, just absolutely destroy it from the inside out, and then hand the reigns of the company to some gullible indian dip shit whos left holding the bag when the company goes belly up. you see it everywhere now, ive already mentioned google and youtube and i think youtube is one of the clearest examples, its turned into such dogshit in just a few short years, most of the changes happened while the company was headed by the edomite susan wojiki (will not google the spelling of hittite surnames) and the damage was so thorough that a huge portion of the major content creators abandoned the website entirely, and now some indian is holding the bag. another great example is bethesda, bethesda had already shit the bed with fall out 4 completely besmirching a respected cash cow of a franchise, if it wasnt for the even more disastrous release of fallout 76 soon after i feel fallout 4 would have a much worse reputation today, and recently they released a game that you can straight up tell was initially a fallout game before they hurriedly retooled it into a space game, and its fucking DOG SHIT, first of all space is gay and its a boring as fuck backdrop for science fiction but ive made posts about that already, but everyone in the game is pig fucking ugly and there are too many women in places they dont belong, this is a billion dollar triple aaa game that despite a bunch of hype before its release has lead to lukewarm reception at BEST, and it will be forgotten about in one week before its only brought up again with scorn and derision, and if you watch the credits for the game its like a bangladeshi phonebook. its not indians who are at fault though i want to make that clear, company policy and culture has already been firmly established by some jew and then they hire a bunch of indians so that when the company inevitably goes belly up the less discerning of us will point the finger at indians. they arent blameless either, indian men do this thing that i cant quiet explain, leftist men and boomer men do it too. they are over socialized, so if you really single them out and point out the absurdity or faulty logic in something they are supporting in a way they cant counter they get all glassy eyed and “glitch out” like “im letting the team down cant let the team down just dont say anything dont cry ranjesh dont cry” does anyone know what im talking about here? i hate to see it in a man.

[harrisonhyundai21]

How to Make a Great Deal on Hyundai Used Cars With the Least Hassle

Hyundai is one of the most popular brands in the automotive industry, and for a good reason. They produce high-quality vehicles at a price that's hard to beat. But if you're looking to buy the best Hyundai used cars Melbourne, there are many things to consider.

From finding the right model for your needs to securing financing on your dream ride and everything in between, buying used can be complicated! In this article, we're going to show you exactly how to make sure it doesn't have any problems with our tips for finding a great deal on a used Hyundai by following some simple steps:

Know Your Options

When you're ready to get Hyundai used car Melbourne, you might be wondering what your options are. There are two major types of used cars: certified pre-owned or non-certified pre-owned. Each one has its own pros and cons, so it's important to understand both before you make a decision on which one is right for you. Certified pre-owned cars are typically purchased by a dealership and sold to customers as used cars. This means that they have been inspected by Hyundai's own mechanics and certified to be in good working order.

Set Budget

You need to know how much you can afford to spend on a car, insurance and maintenance. This is so you don't go over budget and end up regretting the purchase later on. Your credit score is also important because it determines what interest rate you get for the loan.

If you don't have a credit history or a good score, then getting financing will be more difficult, and it may cost more money in terms of interest rates and fees.

Shop Around for the Best Prices

One of the best ways to get a great deal on used cars Melton is to shop around. Because there are so many different Hyundai dealerships out there, it's not hard to find one that will give you a great deal.

You should start by doing some research and getting quotes from multiple dealerships in your area. Once you've found some dealerships that seem promising, check their websites for listings of current offers and promotions.

These are usually advertised prominently on the homepage or in sidebar banners, so they're easy to find. If any of these offer’s sound like something you'd be interested in taking advantage of (like cash back or even just an extra discount), then make sure to mention them when talking over pricing options with an employee at the dealership itself.

Once everyone knows what kind of price range we're working within, it's time for us all to sit down together at our new table!

Get Vehicle History Reports

The vehicle history report is one of the most important things in a used car buyer's arsenal. It lets you know what problems your potential purchase has had in the past and whether it's worth the asking price.

A good vehicle history report will tell you when the car was last registered and how much mileage it has, if it has been involved in any accidents or was ever stolen or salvaged by an insurance company.

You can also find out how many owners have owned it and if they've ever had any trouble with it before. The report will also show if there have been any recalls on the car that weren't fixed before the sale to you.

A dealer may not give them out without a special request from you because he doesn't want people to know about problems with his cars that could hurt sales later on down the road.

The test Drive

Test drive the vehicle. This is the most important part of your car-buying process, and you should definitely spend time driving each used car you're considering before you buy it. The test drive gives you an opportunity to see how well a vehicle performs on your daily route and whether it fits comfortably in tight spaces or has enough power for hills and highway driving.

That way, if something goes wrong with the vehicle after purchase—as an engine light comes on—you'll know what caused it so that repairs can be done easily and cheaply (if possible).

Conclusion

A lot of people are afraid of used cars because they think they'll end up getting ripped off. But if you follow these tips, you won't have any problems at all. You can get a great deal on a Hyundai used car with the least hassle by knowing your options, setting a budget, shopping around for the best prices and getting vehicle history reports.

Source Link :- https://rickythomas21.blogspot.com/2022/10/how-to-make-great-deal-on-hyundai-used.html

[veliseraptor]

How did Shuanghua accept Xue Yang as a wielder of its spiritual power? Was Xiao Xingchen so trustful and welcoming (loving?) of Xue Yang that even his sword spirit accepted him as a legitimate master - despite him being the very cause for Xiao Xingchen's demise and the sword having been used as the means for it? Sorry for the random ask....

oh man this is an interesting question and I have had to take some time to noodle on it in the way it deserves.

I know there was a post floating around on this website about Shuanghua that was...very interesting, though I don't know if I feel like going digging for it. (probably I'll end up digging for it.)

but before I do that - I think one argument is one to be made for just how extensive/precise the sentience of sword spirits is. like, yes, Baxia in CQL has its whole...thing, going on, but Baxia in CQL is also acting as a replacement for Nie Mingjue's corpse, so that's a little different; I don't know that we see that same kind of seeming "awareness" from other swords in text.

(and actually I just remembered the fact that Xue Yang uses Baxia at least in CQL to literally behead Nie Mingjue so in that canon at least...)

"but Suibian," you might be thinking, and that is true and it's definitely interesting to me that somehow Suibian "recognizes" Wei Wuxian despite him being in a different body in some way distinct from how it "recognizes" Wei Wuxian's golden core in Jiang Cheng.

but on the other hand one could say that if Suibian sealed itself against being wielded by anyone else then why wouldn't Shuanghua, which, well, I don't know that we see other swords seal themselves that way either - in my recollection Suibian seems to be sort of special and its "bond" with Wei Wuxian unusually strong.

"so why is Lan Wangji able to take it away then, and seems to indicate that his doing so is about Xue Yang's 'worthiness' to wield it" well, Lan Wangji is more powerful than Xue Yang is; it honestly could just be a matter of force and Lan Wangji expressing an emotional reaction - something he believes to be true but is not necessarily literally or factually a factor in that specific instance.

but none of that is very satisfying! because it more or less amounts to "well, it didn't know any better" and in a world where we are granting swords at least some level of awareness/understanding/spiritual link with their wielders...

I am, as is typical for me, going to go less "this is my definitive answer" and more "here's some possible options I'm tossing around."

one thought is that it was a matter of familiarity - that in the absence of Xiao Xingchen, Xue Yang is at least a...known quantity, and one who is potentially closely linked enough to be an acceptable bearer if not substitute. I mean, he may have actively held Shuanghua at times (he certainly offers to do so) but at the very least he’s a presence who would be known, familiar, and beloved by Xiao Xingchen at least right up until the very end. he’s a friend! and he’s not the one who actually killed Xiao Xingchen, after all - Xiao Xingchen is. from a sword’s perspective, depending on awareness, Xue Yang’s role in Xiao Xingchen’s actual death was pretty minimal.

(and what kind of betrayal would that be, if a sword is bonded with its wielder in a very intimate way - to be used as a weapon against them?)

if Shuanghua didn’t know about the fact that it was killing actual living human people, then there’s no real reason to assume that would change when Xiao Xingchen finds out - I don’t think it’s, like, psychic.

but if we want to go even further down the road of that “familiarity” mention, I think about the conjunction of two things about Xiao Xingchen that are true: his immense loneliness and the fact that (I believe) one of the reasons he turns his sword on himself is because he can’t bring himself to turn it on Xue Yang, and how awful/unforgivable (from his perspective) is that?

so granting Shuanghua sentience - betrayed by Xiao Xingchen (by being used to shed his blood), alone in the absence of Xiao Xingchen/set adrift from its master, and depending on how linked to Xiao Xingchen it is...there’s someone to reach out to/latch onto right there. and I can imagine this being furthered by the way that Xue Yang latches onto Shuanghua right back as a material remainder of Xiao Xingchen that he can carry with him and hold onto with the very present idea that eventually - eventually! when he can trust him again! - he’ll be able to return it to Xiao Xingchen.

and now I’ve made myself emotional! anyways.

(and I found the post! here it is. also found this post about Suibian that gets a little more into its possible exceptionality that might be relevant.)

[cherrykindness]

let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

[anime-lover-forever-1127]

O Come, All Ye Faithful {Klaroline}

O Come, All Ye Faithful

*****

Disclaimer - (Cause fanfiction is tricky ground and I hope not to offend the creator of the original story and get sued

I do not own "The Vampire Diaries", it belongs to its original creator Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and L. J. Smith. Nor do I own "Originals", which belongs to its rightful creator Julie Plec, Michael Narducci, Leslie Morgenstein, Gina Girolamo. This is only a fanfiction that I was inspired to write by the original work. Please support the official release of "The Vampire Diaries" and "Originals". Most of the media - such as the art and illustrations, gifs, video's, etc. used in this fanfiction - are from the web. Thus, most of them aren't mine (because I really, really can't draw) unless mentioned. To fit the story, images are also edited by various apps and websites. So they aren't mine, just edited.

Also if you own a picture or Video that I found online, and you either want your name added, or me to take it down. Please contact me and we can talk it out. P.s. I also ask that you do not copy my work and publish it onto any other website.

Warnings: Hayley Bashing, Spoilers for The Vampire Diaries Season 4 Episode 9, Cursing, Blood, Gore, Torture

Info You Might Need To Know: "Speaking",

Word Count: 4.7K

Requested By: No One

Summary: What if Klaus wasn't angry enough to kill his hybrids, so Hayley decided to give him another reason. Failing to realize that she had just dug her own grave.

*****

Today's Special

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."

~Marilyn Monroe

*****

"Klaus," Hayley called, walking up to the hybrid, a hint of hesitation in her steps appeared as the hybrid turned to meet her. She faltered as she stared into the eyes of the man who could easily rip her heart out.

She knew he would be the type to shoot the messenger, but she needed to do this!

So stealing her nerves she decided to rip the bandit off. "I think you should know. Your hybrids managed to insure themselves and are planning to kill you tonight."

To her surprise, Klaus simply raised an eyebrow, as if urging her to continue. Seeing her baffled expression, the hybrid chuckled, "What? You believe I was not aware? I just choose to ignore it."

Hayley grew angry and decided to try a different approach, "Well did you know Caroline was in on it? She was playing the blond distraction all along, so they could unsire themselves. She's still doing it." As she said this, a part of the she-wolf hoped that he would get angry enough to kill the baby vampire along with the hybrids, that way she could have Tyler all to herself.

Klaus smirked, "Oh I know." He said, moving closer to the werewolf, causing her to take a step back as the threat approached. "I've been around for a thousand years, do you truly believe I don't know a distraction when I see one?" He asked. "I just choose to ignore it, what's twelve unsired hybrids for my Queen's attention?"

"But they're your only hybrids." Hayley tries to remind him.

But the hybrid just smirks, "When did I ever say that?"

Hayley's eyes widened at the insinuation. "You can't possibly mean..."

"Oh I do. Did you know it only took a sip of Elena's blood to turn Tyler. And I left with three pints worth. I choose to turn a select few of elite, loyal wolves, who are truly worthy of being my pack, into hybrids. After that, I used the leftovers I had of Elena's blood, to turn a little over a dozen of forced wolves, and bring them to Mystic Falls. I know better than to bring my real pack, with the threat of Mikael hanging over my head, when they were just babies."

He gave her a moment to observe the information, before continuing, "Of course once the threat of Mikael passed, I brought a handful of them down. They were more than happy to keep an eye on those miscreants, well I dedicated my time to more important priorities." He said, thinking of his baby vampire."

"But the spell..." Hayley tried, desperately.

Klaus smirked, "I've been around for centuries. One of its perks is having the time to build up a tolerance to certain spells. One of which is the linking spell. It can not be performed unless I allow it."

"I should be thanking the mutts in fact." Klaus chuckles. "You know why I let them unsire themselves?" He asked. "Because the longer they spent in constant agony - for a freedom they'd never gain, I spent with my sweet Caroline."

Hayley's jaw clenched at the mention of the blond, "Well did you know your hybrids tortured her?" she asked.

That caught Klaus' attention. He'd had a hybrid watching over Caroline when he left, the only time she was alone was when they had a pack meeting. The event must have taken place in the time-frame of that hour. He growled, his system clearly had a flaw he needed to fix.

Seeing his anger, Hayley knew she got exactly what she wanted, and ran out of there. Klaus ignored the wolf, in favor of pulling out his phone and shooting off a series of orders on the text-chain with his pack.

As he put his phone away, he turned around to see Stefan walk up to him. "Where have you been all day?"

"I've been around." Stefan answered, hoping he'd let it go.

"I'm not interested in vagary, Stefan. You've been dodgy and Caroline's been lovely, which I've come to recognize as a tool of distraction," The hybrid smirked, fondly before growing serious. "Now, do you have something to share with me or should I compel it out of you?"

Stefan, seeing no other way, chooses to answer truthfully, hoping it may help him in the end. "I broke into your safe to look for the sword."

"Why?" The hybrid asked, perplexed.

"Because I don't trust you." Stefan sighed in defeat.

Klaus glared at him, "I showed you the sword. I explained its value. I've been on your side the entire time. What do you want from me? A secret brotherhood handshake?" he asked, exasperated.

"I found the letters." The younger Salvatore told him, "You've had a few pen-pals over the centuries."

Klaus smiled smugly at him. "Well, is keeping my victims' letters really so different from writing their names on a wall? Like you did, Ripper?" he asked, causing Stefan to go quiet.

When Stefan continued to stay silent, Klaus smiled even more smugly. But then, Klaus sees one of the hybrids that belonged to his pack, over Stefan's shoulder and his face grew serious. He walks past Stefan and towards him but stops midway and he turns back to talk to Stefan.

"Loneliness, Stefan." He spoke, causing Stefan to turn around and face him as well. "That's why you and I memorialize our dead. There's the briefest of moments before we kill where we literally hold their life in our hands and then we rip it away. And we're left with nothing. So, gathering other peoples' letters or writing their names on a wall is a reminder that in the end we're left infinitely and utterly alone."

Klaus then walks away with his hybrid as his anger returns as his beast roars inside of him, ready to avenge his mate.

*****

When Hayley and Tyler arrived at the designated site, they were surprised to see no one there. "Where is everyone?" The baby hybrid asked, angry.

"Do you think he already killed them all?" Hayley asked, a hint of hope in her voice that she quickly covered up.

Tyler shook his head, "No. Klaus would want answers."

"Do you think he moved them?" Hayley asked with fear in her voice, scared that the sacrifice wouldn't take place.

"Likely. Klaus wouldn't be angry enough to kill them all at once. He may try to compel them." Tyler therosied.

"Actually..." Hayley winced, remembering the look Klaus had on his face when she revealed what the hybrids had done to Caroline, "I told him what they did to Caroline. Only to bring him here." Hayley said, quickly trying to cover up her tracks.

Tyler's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, "He's not going to kill them! He's going to torture them to death." He frantically ran his hand through his hair, "We NEED Caroline! She's the only one who can save them now."

Hayley's eyes narrowed, knowing that if she believed she would be the cause of twelve deaths, then the baby vampire really would intervene and try, no - correction, she'd be able to stop the massacre.

"Sorry Tyler." Hayley said, coming up behind him and snapping his neck. "I don't care if he tortures them to death, as long as they die. Which means I can't let you, or little Miss Perfect stop the sacrifice."

*****

Caroline spun around to see Hayley standing behind her, "What the hell?" The startled vampire shouted, nearly jumping a feat into the air.

"You must be a terrible vampire if you couldn't hear me come up behind you." Hayley said spitefully.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I was worried." About Klaus. "Did the plan work?"

Before she could react, Hayley's arm was shooting out and injecting her in shoulder with a syringe. Without giving her a moment to react the werewolf injected her with the contents.

Caroline cried out and began rubbing her arm, she turned around to see the syringe she had knocked away. "Vervain?" She asked, as the spell attacked her nose.

Hayley smirked, "The plan needs to work." She said, watching Caroline collapse against the wall. "The hybrids need to die."

"Why?" The baby vampire asked, fighting harder to stay awake as her vision blurred.

"It's for my family." Hayley glared down at her.

"I thought the hybrids were your pack." Caroline spat at her.

Hayley flinched at the reminder and leaned down to look her in the eyes, "FYI," She said tauntingly, "Tyler and I actually slept together. What do you think got him through the long lonely nights in the mountains? Or should I say who?"

Watching the blond pass out seconds later, Hayley smirked and spun around and walked out of the bathroom with her head held high. As if she hadn't just sentenced twelve people to their deaths.

The she-wolf walked out of the room only to bump into a hard chest. She looked up to see a man towering up at her.

He flashed her a fanged grin, along with amber eyes, causing her to flinch.

A hybrid.

Before she could even take a step back, the man pinned her to a wall. His iron grip gave him nothing else to listen to than to hear her gasp for breath until she was knocked unconscious. Only then did he let her drop to the floor.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" His partner asked.

"I smelled vervain." The man answered, letting Hayley drop to the floor in a heap. He then walked over to the door and knocked three times. He waited for a reply, when he didn't receive when he slowly opened the door. He rushed in when he saw Caroline unconcise.

He was relieved to see that there weren't any veins covering her body, nor was it graying. It meant she wasn't dead.

He then noticed the syringe on the ground and picked it up, he quickly deduced what could have gone down here. "I was right." He told his partner, who had just finished reading a text.

The other hybrid gave him a nod, looking up they answered, "I just got a text. It says that all the rogues have been gathered at the mansion. We should head there. I got the bitch, you carry the Queen. Alright."

*****

Caroline ground as she woke up in an unfamiliar room. The baby vampire sat up and took in her surroundings. The room was large, the blond noticed, rubbing her arm where Hayley had injected her with vervain. The plant wasn't fully out of her system yet, so her system was still pretty drowsy.

There was a desk pushed against the corner of the room, and a bookshelf filled with various books, next to it.

There was a large T.V. across from her and a giant window to her left.

But one thing about it stood out to her among all else, the room was covered in Klaus sent, and she quickly realized where she was.

This was Klaus' bedroom!

She quickly stood up, but nearly fell back down as a result of the vervain still in her system. Shaking off her dizziness, she walked over to the door and opened it, only to instantly be hit with a strong smell of blood.

The baby vampire let out a gasp, and pushed down the veins on her face that were struggling to rise up.

Against her better judgment, she followed the scent of the blood, her senses easily guiding her. She walked down the corridor until she reached a door. She grasped the doorknob and twist it open and the scent of blood instantly doubled, hitting her like a bomb. But what was even worse were the screams that pierced through her ears.

She saw twelve hybrids tied up against the walls, four of them clearly dead, and the rest were bloody, with broken bones, and missing organs.

In the corner, she could see Hayley chained to the ground, huddled into a corner, she wasn't bloody as the rest, but was clearly in pain.

And in the middle of it all, was the original hybrid.

"I expected you sooner, love." Klaus greeted, turning around to greet her casually as if he wasn't soaked in blood.

"Hayley vervained me." Caroline answered, throwing a look at the tied up werewolf.

Klaus followed his gaze and his eyes darkened at the reminder.

Hayley, seeing his anger, quickly pressed further into the walls, almost whispering the stone would swallow her. "W-wait!" She begged as Klaus began to approach her. "I can tell you about Shane's plan."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, "The Bennett witches mentor?" He asked. "What does he have to do with this?"

"He's the one who told me how to unsire your hybrids." Hayley answered, her body shaking in fear.

"Why would he do that?" Caroline asked.

Hayley threw her look full of loathing, before turning back to Klaus, "He needed twelve hybrids sacrificed. I was just given the location and told where it needed to happen. In exchange, he'd tell me about my family. I did it for them." Hayley pleaded, trying to reach Klaus' wolf side.

But she was only met with an icy wall. "Silas and Shane..." Klaus repeated, before pulling out his phone and dialing a number. The phone rang a couple of times, before going to voicemail, Klaus growled, "I'm giving you exactly five second to call me back, or you won't be seeing the outside of a coffin for five centuries."

From the voicemail he left, Caroline easily concluded that he was calling one of his siblings, her suspicions were confirmed when the phone rang an instant later for Kol's voice to be heard, "Bringing out the dagger threats already?" He teased.

Klaus growled his brother's name warningly, only to be ignored. "Remember the coven you ran with near the beginning. The one who worshiped Silas."

That instantly shut the younger original up, "What's happening?" He asked, serious.

"Some nimwit is trying to bring him back." Klaus answered.

There was shuffling heard from the other end, "Kill him. And anyone who knows about it." Kol ordered.

"I know, but the Bennett witch-"

"You're not killing Bonnie!" Caroline shouted, instantly going on to her friend's defense.

Klaus shot her a look, sighing, "That was never my attention love. But the expression must be undone, and Kol's the best bet for that."

Kol chukled from the other end, "I doubt I could get within 10 meters of that spunky witch without her hitting me with an aneurysm. I know, I've tried. So far my record is at a whopping 12 meters." His voice then drawled, "But if a certain blond could convince her..."

Caroline paused, thinking his request over. She didn't trust Kol as far as she could throw him, but... "What will happen if the expression remains."

Klaus stayed quiet, letting Kol break the news and take the blunt of the anger. "Well we'll have to kill her. As shame as it would be to get rid of such a strong witch, Silas can not be allowed to rise again. Of course I could always lock her up and make sure her knowledge never reaches another ear. Maybe even turn her and compel her."

"Don't you dare!" Caroline shouted, her vampire face emerging.

"Relax darling, I could only do that if she survives that long." Kol chukled.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked quietly.

"The expression is killing her. It's a disease that will take her life in a matter of months. If she were any weaker she would have died in days. But even as a Bennett she wouldn't be able to make it a year. So...?" Kol trailed off, waiting for the baby vampire's response.

Caroline sighed in defeat, "I'll talk to her."

"Great! It's a date. I'll be there in a couple of hours." Kol answered cheerfully. "Any idea what your best friend's favorite restaurant is?"

With that, Klaus quickly hung up, cutting his brother off before he could really get started.

"How did you know about Silas?" Hayley asked weakly.

Klaus looked down at her, annoyed with how these children kept underestimating them. "We've been around for centuries. Kol used to run around with some of Silas followers, when he found out who he was, he decided to kill them. I was surprised to find the brotherhood of the five was also connected. Now that's the case, the cure no longer matters. An army of hybrids isn't worth the apocalypse." He said.

"We also found a statue of a doppelganger when trying to break my curse. Kol then revealed its history." The hybrid smirked, "So long as Amara remains immortal, or encased in that stone, either way really works for me. Nature will find a way to keep producing her doppelgangers, and I'll get my blood bag in another few centuries. I've waited this long, what's a bit more?"

He then turned around to glance at the hybrids hanging off the wall. "Now, as for you a lot. I could just compel you." At that, Kimberly looked up hopefully, only for it to be crushed as his eyes burned a bright gold, "But I can't forgive you after what you did."

Hayley smiled, realizing she'd still get what she'd want until he said, "Now I can't kill you all in one place but-"

"Klaus!" Caroline called, grabbing his arm, she spun him around to face her, "Don't do this."

"I won't torture them," The hybrid sighed and gently brushed her hair out of her face, "But they must pay. It'll be a mercy kill compared to what I have in mind for them laying a hand on you. Love, just say the word."

Caroline paused visibly struggling to make a decision and she looked around at all the people who had caused her so much pain.

Klaus, seeing her internal conflict, gave her a small smile and gently rubbed her arm. Caroline opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, unable to say the words.

Klaus nodded, "I know." he then turned back around to face the hybrids that were hanging off the walls. He made sure they were all looking him in the eyes, so he could compel them. "You all will go back to the packs you came from, and find the person you loved most in that pack. Then you will shift and tear them apart. Limb, from limb."

Instantly the chained hybrids broke. Some let out sobs, well others entered a state where their vocal chords failed to function.

What Klaus had just ordered, was the worst punishment for a wolf. Not only would they be forced to kill their loved ones, but as a result, their own packs would kill them as punishment. And if they somehow did manage to survive that, they'd be faced with a punishment even worse than death. As they are immortal, they wouldn't live eternally alone, never welcomed by any other pack as a result of their hybrid nature.

To increase the chances of the second half happening, Klaus added, "You will do everything in your power to survive. You won't try to ever take your own life, or make a move against me or those I claim as mine again."

Klaus then pressed a button the wall and the chains unlocked, letting the hybrids go free and carry out their orders.

The hybrid's cries could be heard as they moved away, as they sobbed what was about to come, well Hayley sobbed, knowing the sacrifice failed to take place.

Klaus pulled out his phone, and quickly fired off a text to Elijah to get rid of Shane, making it look like an accidental fire, so nobody would question it and all his data would be lost. Normally a hybrid or a minion would carry out such a small task. But he wasn't going to risk anyone else getting wind of Silas.

He then turned around to face Hayley, who was facing the ground. He was done with her and decided to quickly end her, not wanting to waste any more time on her.

Klaus paused as he moved in to kill Hayley and just put this whole mess behind them, when he saw a mark on her hunched over back.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with." The werewolf begged, resigned to her fate.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, "That's the mark of the crescent wolf clan."

Hayley perked up at that, "You know my family?"

"I know your pack." Klaus corrected. "They reside in a bayou just outside of New Orleans." He hummed, and pretended to be in thought, but he'd already made up his mind on Hayley's punishment. She'd suffer much more than his hybrids. He'll wait hers out, making it much sweeter when she falls.

The hybrid in one fluid motion, unlocks her chains and lets them fall to the ground with a loud clang. Hayley looks surprised, she looks up, "W-what?"

"I'm letting you live. In turn, when the time comes, your pack will support me in New Orleans, or at least stay out my way. Understood?" He asked, as if speaking to a child.

Hayley nodded, she didn't understand his reasoning fully. But she wasn't going to stick around long enough for him to change her mind, and quickly dashed out of the room.

Klaus smirked, watching the wolf run out with her tail between her legs. He turned around to see Caroline looked questioningly at him, "No way. You're letting Hayley go. Just like that?" She accused.

Klaus smirked, "Come now, love. I thought you knew me better than that."

"What's your game?" Caroline demanded.

The hybrid chuckled, "You'd almost think you wanted Hayley to die."

Caroline flushed at that, "Don't mock me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart." Klaus smirked, "You're quite adorable when you're angry. I can imagine another way I can make you flush just as easily." Reaching out to pull her against him.

"Klaus!" Caroline growled, slapping his hand away.

"Allright, allright." he said, pulling his hands up. He then glanced at the door Hayley had just run out of. "With the cure no longer a goal, I will be focusing my efforts onto New Orleans. My protegee has declared himself King, and I can't let that mistake remain correct much longer. With Miakel no longer a threat, I can create as many large splashes as I like."

"What does that have to do with Hayley?" The baby vampire asked.

"Like I said, her pack currently resides in New Orleans, but what I left out is that they are currently under a curse." He told her. "I'll offer to uncurse them, for their loyalty and them exiling Hayley."

Caroline's eyes widened, "You're going to give her enough time to form a bond..."

"Making it all the more sweeter when I tear it away." The hybrid finished.

A peaceful silence took over the room for a moment before Klaus turned around once again to face Caroline.

"Will you continue to beg for Tyler's life?" He asked.

The blond sighed, she had a question of her own as well. "You knew about Hayley and Tyler." She accused, and knew she was right with the look on the hybrid's face. "You know what he did. Why didn't you tell me? It would have given you the perfect opportunity."

"I didn't want to hurt you." Klaus answered honestly. He quickly put up his egotistical persona once again, but the baby vampire could still clearly see the emotions in his eyes. "When I get you, It will be because I did it properly. Because I wooed and courted you into giving me a real chance. Not because of grief."

Caroline smiled at his answer, but the smile shrank as she looked down at the ground as if considering her options before finally looking Klaus in the eyes once again. "I still don't want him to die. He doesn't deserve it. Least of all over me."

Klaus growled, his anger completely directed at Tyler, "I'd bring the world to its knees and lay it at your feet. I'd create a world where dying for you would be the highest honor."

"I know." The blond smiled softly. "But I don't need that. I don't want that."

Klaus sighed and gently pushed a loose curl from Caroline's face, "Your loyalty is what I love most about you. You know that. I hope to earn it for myself one day." He says, smiling gently at her.

She returns the smile, "You're currently well on your way to doing just that."

*****

God I hate Hayley. She led 12 hybrids to their death, just for a flash drive that only had her parents' name. Like she already knew that they were dead. Yet she still killed 12 hybrids, just so she could know their names and maybe some information. I get that people are gonna be like 'Oh, but she did it to find her pack', and 'they were her parents'.

I personally just can't get it. Especially how she literally insulted Klaus, when he was the one keeping her safe from Katherine.

But hey, at least we got a badass moment out of it when Klaus unknowingly avenged his waify's torture.

Once I stopped and thought about it, I realized that he avenged her twice in one episode. Once with the hybrids, then the second time, when he killed Carol Lockwood, who handed Caroline over to be tortured.

Shout out to Horus1251 who gave me the idea of Klaus and the originals becoming immune to spells, after they've been used on them. I found it genius.

Here's a suggestion for those who don't like Hayley:

The Klaroline Diaries - Episode 1x04 :You're My Kill of the Night" Clip (HD)

The editing here was absolutely beautiful.

Anyways,

KLAROLINE FOR LIFE BECAUSE I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP!

[1kook]

hulu & woohoo

summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k

[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]

started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3

Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.

However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.

Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.

Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.

It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.

He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.

You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”

Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“

“No!” You exclaim.

Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.

From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.

“The password—“

“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.

Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”

The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.

To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.

He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.

—

“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.

“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.

“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”

On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.

You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”

Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”

Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.

“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”

“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.

You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.

Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.

Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.

It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.

He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”

“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.

Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”

You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”

The glass roof shatters.

Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.

Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.

“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”

Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.

You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.

Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.

Sadly, that meant you too.

Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.

He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?

Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?

Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)

Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.

—

You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.

A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.

“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.

You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.

There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.

Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”

The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.

But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.

Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.

The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.

Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.

His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.

The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.

When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.

You placate him, “always.”

It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.

“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.

You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.

As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.

“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.

As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”

His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.

A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.

“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.

He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.

“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”

He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.

You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.

Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening.  “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”

You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”

He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.

“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.

“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.

You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.

He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.

Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”

You short circuit.

“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.

Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“

“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.

Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.

“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.

“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.

Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.

Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?

Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.

It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.

You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”

Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides,  drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”

You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.

The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”

It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”

You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”

Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.

He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”

You might love him.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.

“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.

When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.

“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.

You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.

When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.

“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.

He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.

Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.

He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”

You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.

Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”

If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.

Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.

A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.

“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”

You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.

“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.

“This is Hulu,” you point out.

“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.

You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.

“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.

[ part three ; imax & climax ]

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Analysis of the “Fundy’s Mind” Stream: A Showcase of Repressed Memories and Repressed Insecurities

i. INTRODUCTION

Hi! This is going to be… something. Funny how I focus on this rather than my research homework, but I have a MASSIVE Fundy brain rot right now and I’d love to share my thoughts on Fundy’s newest stream. Fair warning, I am not the Messiah, so don’t take everything as fact. I’m open to constructive and objective discussions in replies or in DM’s, so feel free to hmu!

All of this is /dsmp and /rp by the way!

Heavy trigger warnings for derealization, parental neglect, neglect in general, self-deprecation, self-neglect, low self-esteem, death, manipulation, abandonment, loneliness, trust issues, torture mention, blood mention, and broken friendships.

Word Count: Approximately 10k.

ii. PRE-LIVESTREAM ASPECTS

Before we begin deep diving into the mind of Fundy, I do want to emphasize two major themes of this stream: 1.) Fundy’s insecurities, especially when it comes to abandonment and trust, and 2.) Fundy’s future predicting abilities. A ton (but not all) of statements uttered by the books and Fundy himself tend to have double meanings that apply to both of these themes. 

We can further discuss the future predicting powers later, but to give a little background on Fundy’s insecurities: Fundy is notorious for heavily depending his self-worth on the recognition other people give him. Despite his immaturity, a lot of Fundy’s character is rooted in being heavily underestimated. This could be observed during the Pet Wars when his safety was constantly being threatened by Sapnap, inevitably making him lose a duel against him. Another way we can see this is through Wilbur’s early treatment of Fundy where he constantly infantilized him because Wilbur believed Fundy was a child incapable of being independent. This caused Fundy to appeal a lot to any type of compliment from any person- it began with Quackity ensuring him that he will gift him a lot of cookies if he votes SWAG2020, then to Schlatt complimenting him to the point that Fundy almost gave up on spying and siding with Pogtopia, then to the Butcher Army where he unhesitantly followed Tubbo and Quackity’s lead no matter how many times they made fun of him. While he revels in any type of recognition given, oftentimes, those who seem to care for Fundy tend to leave after he grows attached to them; first with Wilbur, then Niki, then Schlatt, then Eret and Phil, then Tubbo, Ranboo, and Quackity. In the Dream SMP, Fundy is very lonely and has dealt with abandonment issues left and right, but typically, he never does anything with his loneliness, as the last time he lashed out against someone who left him, nothing positive really came out of it (this is when he got mad at Ghostbur). 

(Everything else is under the cut! I worked so hard on this, so please read it if you can, it’d mean a lot!)

So, with all that laid out, I want you to keep this all in mind as it is important for understanding why Fundy feels the way he does in the stream.

Now, let’s begin the analysis. First off, I believe it is important to denote the title and the tags of the stream. The stream is titled “Fundy’s Mind”, so we have to denote that this isn’t merely a dream sequence- the stream is meant to explore the complexity of Fundy’s mind. This includes his thoughts, insecurities, repressed memories, and so on and so forth. Additionally, the stream is tagged “Permadeath”, something different from what Fundy typically tags his streams. There is no clear explanation as to what this could mean, but the possibilities are:

It is hinting that the death system in the Dream SMP could be rigged, and someone is messing with the semantics of death and how it works.

It is hinting that someone will face a permanent death, and most fingers are pointed at Fundy as this is his stream. If not a permanent death, he might at least lose one of his canon lives which was hinted later on in the stream (will discuss later).

It is hinting that he was killed by the end of the dream. Not really a solid theory as we don’t actually know the repercussions of killing someone who is actively dreaming, but it is a possibility.

iii. PROLOGUE

A thing to question at the beginning of the stream is if the entire introduction was part of the dream or not. Seeing how Fundy has the same inventory from this to the next scene, it is plausible, but I don’t think it provides anything if it were a dream. 

Anyway, other things to denote are Fundy’s hotbar! First noticeable thing would be the 38 baked potatoes. The website angelnumber.org explains that 38 means:

“The combination of these two numbers makes the number 38 a number which signifies joy and optimism, courage, finding creative ways to materialize abundance, reality, etc.

The essence of the number 38 in numerology are different kind of relationships, such as romantic ones, business partnerships, teamwork, cooperation, diplomacy, etc.

Number 38 people have a talent for dealing with people in a caring and creative way. They are born team-workers. They need interaction with other people to fully enjoy their lives. They are usually optimistic and have a gift of inspiring others to action.”

So far, the number 38 is viewed to be positive. It signifies financial success and cooperativeness, which is interesting if Fundy’s future arc potentially ties to working with Quackity. To further add onto symbolisms regarding success, dreamastromeanings.com says the following:

“If you dreamed of baking or roasting potatoes, that dream is a good sign. It usually indicates your finances increasing over time.

Possibly you have made some investments and now you are beginning to reap the fruits of your efforts and risky activities.”

or,

“If you dreamed of holding a potato in your hand, that dream is a bit of a warning. You might soon receive some lucrative opportunity, possibly work related.

It is advisable to think fast and accept it because you might not get a second chance.

It could also indicate that you are a bit lazy when it comes to taking chances and missing opportunities because of that.”

Both explanations refer to business opportunities and possible investments. If we combine both the explanation for the number 38 and carrying potatoes, we can assume that Fundy will be receiving a business opportunity that would be too good to miss. These explanations also imply that nothing too negative would occur, but instead, Fundy can achieve success through this business opportunity. The only arcs in the Dream SMP which I think could provide a business opportunity would either be 1.) a new warden at the prison, 2.) new member at Snowchester (low odds), but the most likely occurrence would be 3.) Quackity offers him a position at Las Nevadas. With the Quackity smiley face at the end of Fundy’s stream, we can safely believe that the job opportunity at Las Nevadas would be the most likely occurrence.

Another explanation for this is that because the 38 potatoes were brought from the seemingly real world, it could possibly pertain to something that had already happened in the past. This could possibly allude to L’Manberg, especially when the explanations behind 38 potatoes are presented to be more positive, something the current Las Nevadas arc isn’t.

Second thing to notice about the hotbar: Fundy is currently at level 5, with his EXP bar 1/18 filled. To reach level 5, one has to gain 55 EXP, and to reach level 6, one would need to gain an extra 17 EXP. If the bar is merely 1/18 filled, 1/18 of 17 would be 0.94, which when rounded off, is 1. Add 1 to the extra 55, and we would approximately get 56 EXP. The website angelnumber.org says the following:

“The number 56 symbolizes teamwork, coexistence, family, relationships, adventure and expression of freedom.

Number 56 people have diverse interests, some of which they have an in-depth knowledge of and some just general understanding.

They try different approaches in relationships, trying to keep them alive. If everything they’ve tried fails, they simply walk to another relationship.”

This could mean a lot of things. The second sentence could imply that Fundy doesn’t fully comprehend the complexity of his mind. Some parts, he may understand, some, he does not at all. This could imply that there are also more secrets hiding in his mind that we couldn’t get to see. The third sentence is more interesting as Fundy’s entire character arc involves him and his broken relationships with other people. It’s a quite accurate description of Fundy, describing how he desperately tries anything to make a relationship work, and if it fails, he could easily befriend other people even if there is a possibility that that relationship would fail like the previous. 

If we ignore the number of EXP, we can merely focus on the number 5, which means the following:

“When angels are sending you number 5, they want to encourage you to have hope and to be ready to accept all the changes that are coming. Also, if number 5 has appeared just at the moment when you have been thinking about something important in your life, this number could be the answer or the solution for your problems. You should pay attention to number 5 and think of its secret meanings.

If number 5 keeps appearing by your side, it means that changes are already happening in your life. If they have not happened yet, don’t worry. They are on the way and you will feel them in the next couple of days or weeks.”

This can be connected to both the EXP number and the stream as a whole as Fundy begins to accept the gravity of his abandonment issues instead of suppressing his negative feelings towards it. Throughout the stream, Fundy is shown rejecting the idea that he is being neglected by others, but by the second half of the stream, he rejects it less and less. This could be the change the explanation is referring to as Fundy realizing his negative feelings towards his abandonment issues are valid and he needs to take them more seriously rather than brushing them aside. 

With number symbolisms finally aside, we can begin analyzing the actual sequences! Fundy is seen to be approaching his “Not A Secret” Base with a sigh, asking chat if they can go to sleep so that he can go to sleep too. Fundy immediately doubts the possibility of the others in the server following through his request until Ranboo responds with a simple “okay” while Niki responds with “yiss, am asleep”. Fundy quickly flashes the members list on the screen, showing us that only Niki and Ranboo are online on the server before he showcases his new bed, claiming that he likes it.

Two interesting notes about this: 1.) he decides to sleep, which is odd enough in the Dream SMP, and 2.) him having three new beds despite only using one of them. For the first point, I’d like to refer you to what Fundy said at around 26:08:

“I just gotta sleep and then, it’s gonna disappear! And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’, and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys…! You’re always pranking me, you’ve always been there for me. Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most.’ I just go to bed, I just go to bed, and none of this ever happened.”

While I understand that he is referring to the dream, I also believe that this statement would be one of those types I mentioned earlier that may have a double meaning. While “I just go to bed,” could refer to him wanting to sleep and wake up from this horrific dream, it could also refer to how he easily shuts down to his abandonment issues and goes to bed instead of handling it head first. Knowing this, him going to bed in the first scene could imply that he is in this type of  abandonment predicament, especially when we connect it to the second point. The color orange is meant to represent joy and warmth, and even without the symbolism, we all know orange is Fundy’s favorite color. He sees these three beds and says that he likes them, but I can’t help but feel like the other two beds are meant for two other people. I don’t think Niki and Ranboo being the only other two people on the server is coincidental; they have to relate to the two extra beds in some way.

Niki and Ranboo are two prime examples of close friends Fundy had before breaking off after a misunderstanding. Niki fought with Fundy after he had to burn the flag she made in order to gain Schlatt’s trust, while Fundy fought with Ranboo after Doomsday when they had conflicting beliefs about neutrality and sides. After both incidents, Fundy never really made his way to apologize, but Fundy has awkwardly met up with these two after a certain point. With Niki, he was forced to team with her at the beginning of the November 16th War, joking around with her and Eret, while for Ranboo, Fundy had to talk to him and Philza when they were joking around in the SMP. The meet ups definitely relieved some tension, but it never fully resolved the conflict Fundy had with both characters, so there was never a chance for him to rekindle the close bonds he had with both Ranboo and Niki in the past.

Fundy going to his favorite beds with two extra spots next to him could represent how he does cherish the friendships he shared with Niki and Ranboo, but never has the guts to actually bring back things the way that they were before. So, instead, Fundy sleeps, not wanting to think about them any further.

iv. FIRST DAY

When he wakes, Fundy checks his inventory before exiting his base, saying “Uhm, I don’t actually-” until he cuts himself off once he spots the desert. I don’t actually know what Fundy was supposed to say here, but because he checked his inventory beforehand, I believe he was trying to say “I don’t actually know where my things are,” but I could be wrong. To be fair, this isn’t too important, so we don’t have to focus on that. What we can focus on is the misplaced desert that was obviously not there before Fundy slept. We can easily infer what deserts could symbolize in dreams, especially when it comes to loneliness and the feeling of being deserted, but for better insight, consider what dreamstop.com claims about deserts:

“A dream of a desert is about something that is devoid of any feelings or care for you. It is all about them and nothing about you. Does someone show you a lack of respect? Is there someone or something in your life you dislike and adds no meaning to your life? Do you feel invisible? That no-one cares about you? Deserts represent an empty, barren place you may be trying to fill.

Desert dreams may appear when a relationship or friendship breaks down, or when you feel totally alone. You may have moved recently and have not yet made friends. You may feel homesick for all you left behind.

Being lost in a desert refers to your feelings that a situation is hopeless. You may have a problem you feel no-one cares about, even though you tried to reach out. You may feel there was no support and are feeling hurt and alone.”

You don’t need much analyzing to connect these meanings to what Fundy is experiencing. The setting of a “desert” merely pads the idea of Fundy being incredibly lonely to the point of him believing that he has nothing left to lose. Back in Doomsday, he was an optimistic nihilist, claiming that he doesn’t care much about what occurs from this point onwards as long as he can have a little bit of fun. On the stream where he created the Cube, he claimed that most people hated him anyway, so the least he could do was to make himself so hateable so other people could unite together in their hatred of Fundy even if it meant Fundy would have no companions left. Let it be known: Fundy is incredibly, incredibly lonely, and he is miserable in his loneliness, especially when his self-worth depends on how much people recognize him.

Another thing this desert could be eluding to would be Las Nevadas as it is set in the desert. I do think the desert’s main purpose is to showcase Fundy’s loneliness, but the connection to Las Nevadas is plausible.

Additionally, the dark skies Fundy sees doesn’t really need much of an explanation either. I couldn’t find a website exactly defining what it means to find a dark sky, but most of them speak of it as a negative thing, often symbolizing something terrible to come. I don’t think I need to explain that part, so we’re moving on.

Fundy is, understandably, very confused about this entire predicament. He quickly moves around his base to figure out what is going on, even messaging in chat to see if anyone would respond. Climbing up the ladders, he stands atop his base, spotting the silhouette of the Camarvan from afar. He continues to be confused, claiming he has no idea why he’s here in the first place. He claims he is “freaking out”, continuing to ask questions about where he is, and why the sky turns dark. He denotes that he isn’t at least completely alone as bunnies swarm around the desert. He begins to follow this sandstone path, every few blocks or so passing a fence with a torch stood atop it.

Here, we can infer that Fundy seems to have never seen this place before, or has no recollection of it entirely. Fundy doesn’t seem to be immensely freaked out just yet, especially since he hasn’t asked any questions about how no one is there, mostly focusing on his location and asking what the place is about.

Fundy then asks why the van is here, then zooms in on the nametags he sees at the back of the van. It is notable that something nametagged “Fundy” is shorter than another thing that is nametagged “WilburSoot”. Fundy tries to reach out for them but is unable to enter the van.

We can easily infer that this scene was meant to represent Fundy’s childhood in L’Manberg when he was being taken care of by Wilbur. Despite the lack of silhouettes, we can easily determine that Fundy is young in this scene because of how his nametag is in a much lower position next to Wilbur's, implying that whoever owns that nametag is much shorter. We can denote that by the beginning of the L’Manbergian Revolutionary War, Fundy was, in fact, a child. 

Another question some of you might ask: why is the Camarvan here in the first place? While I believe it could be representative of the part of Fundy’s mind that tackles past memories, I do think it also serves another purpose which I will explain later.

Moving on to the next scenes, Fundy continues following the sandstone path while typing in chat, asking if anyone was actually there. He gets confused by the path for a moment, wanting to go to the ominous building, before realizing that the path does connect to the building, it just swerves a little to the left.

It is notable that when Fundy cried out for help, he doesn’t call for a name in specific-  he calls out for ANYONE. The fact that he is calling out for “anyone” could denote that he doesn’t have any close friends or family members he would want to specifically call out for. 

Continuing on, Fundy follows the path to the building, still very immensely confused about where he is. Opening the door, he sees that the inside descends into an underground room with its flooring made out of chiseled quartz blocks. Fundy gets scared at first, immediately closing the door, looking back in, and going back out once more.

Fundy denotes that there is absolutely nothing out here as he walks around the building. He then gains the courage to descend the staircase, wondering what it is, and at the bottom, there are a lot of misplaced sandstone blocks with small lights illuminating at certain corners. The path leads to the left, showing 10 pieces of red carpet on the floor, and 8 pieces of yellow carpet on the table. He approaches the wooden table before looking to his right, spotting a skull on the floor next to a piece of redstone, which I believe is meant to resemble blood.

I don’t think we really need to research a skull to check what it might represent, but my theory so far as to what the skulls mean in each building would be that it’s meant to represent Fundy losing a canon life. I don’t know if this was intentional, but the corner room where the skull is somewhat reminds me of the Final Control Room with the redstone in the middle representing the button. That is, after all, where Fundy lost his first canon life. 

One of the theories I subscribe to is that the skulls in these buildings are meant to foreshadow Fundy’s death before he ever reaches it. Earlier in the day, we saw Fundy pass by the Camarvan with a younger Fundy which could possibly imply that they haven’t gotten to Eret’s betrayal yet, but the skull creeping up at the corner could represent that it is, in fact, coming. How this ties in to the entire future predicting thing, I will explain later, but for now, keep an eye out on the skulls.

Terrified of the skull, Fundy opens the chest and hesitantly picks up the book and quill inside of it. He opens it and is introduced to another Fundy writing to himself. Other Fundy claims that they’re not exactly the same person, but this Fundy is a part of the real Fundy. Other Fundy claims that Fundy cannot trust this place as it is not real, then begins saying that Fundy himself is not real repeatedly. Fundy’s heart rate suddenly increases when he sees the words “wake up” appear slowly in the book, and after page 34 is shown, Fundy wakes up to a new day in the dream world. 

First thing to denote is that the book has 87 pages, and 87, according to affinitynumerology.com means as follows:

“The numerology number 87 is a number of family, organization, and prosperity.

It's also a number of harmony and idealism, the ideal generally related to a harmonious and prosperous family relationship.

87 has parental instincts. It assumes responsibility for the welfare of others it considers to be family.”

The explanation implies that Fundy longs for family and cares deeply for those who he considers as his family. As much as he hated Wilbur after he died, Fundy still continuously expressed how much he needed Wilbur to be there. He is absolutely attached to anyone who poses as a possible family member, especially to those who he views as parents or guardians. Even outside of Wilbur, he is still practically attached to Phil, even if Phil refuses to consider Fundy as family. Fundy also got immensely angered by Eret when she didn’t show up to sign his adoption papers. I’d even say his attachment to family would even reach people like Sally and Schlatt. Fundy has a tendency of casually talking about Sally, and whenever a character talks about eating salmon, Fundy becomes deeply offended. For Schlatt, Fundy kept Schlatt’s netherite sword after he died, considering it to be an “heirloom”, something that only gets passed down onto different generations of the same family. Fundy is incredibly attached to the sword, and whenever he loses it, he’s absolutely desperate to get it back. As much as Fundy gets abandoned, he still deeply appreciates a lot of his family.

87 is also very reminiscent of one of the books in the Inbetween. A lot of the phrasing in the books are actually quite similar to the Inbetween, but we aren’t sure if Fundy and the Inbetween are directly affecting each other or if these places merely work in similar ways. The main similarity between Fundy and the Inbetween is that it involves something related to time travelling, so the similarities could be pointing towards that rather than imply that Fundy is directly affecting the Inbetween all together.

Secondly, the book stops at Page 34. The website angelnumbers.org express the following:

"Most likely you are leaving your projects unfinished because of fear for their destiny after you finish them.

Will they be rejected or accepted by others?

Because you would rather not find out that and possibly have your ego hurt, you consciously or subconsciously sabotage your work and leave things unfinished.

When this number starts appearing in your life frequently, it is a reminder to acknowledge you have a problem and start dealing with it.”

This is very reminiscent of the paragraph I made earlier discussing Fundy’s relationship with Ranboo and Niki- and this could honestly apply to any other relationships Fundy has as well. Besides Fundy’s relationships, this explanation could apply to Fundy’s hesitance of finding out the truth of his mind. Earlier on in the streams, Fundy is immensely confused about the dream, not wanting to discover its truths at all. This eventually changes on the third day, but we’ll discuss that in a bit.

Another thing I’d like to discuss would be the identity of the book authors and why they wrote the books the way they did. I’ll explain about this more in-depth later, but I do believe that another Fundy is, indeed, writing these books. As this was set in Fundy’s mind, it’s quite impossible for anyone who isn’t Fundy to be meddling with the books. What we can denote, though, is the reason as to why these books were created in the first place. The book itself seems to be harmless at first, quite inviting towards Fundy in the first few pages, but once it had to introduce what this world is, it seemed to hesitate. There were a couple of disjointed pages, as well as blank pages, before it began claiming the world wasn’t real, and that Fundy wasn’t real. It turned a complete 180, which seemed to be very odd to me. In past events of the Dream SMP, derealizing statements like this tend to be tricks of the mind, but these statements seem to be intentionally put there by those who wrote the book, especially since later on, we see another book completely give up on saying these triggering statements, saying that “It’s not going to work.” (32:05). 

What this implies is that whoever placed these statements are attempting to scare Fundy in some way, possibly heightening his insecurities and terror so that he can be truly terrified of the place. The constant statements of “you are not real” may not only refer to the Other Fundy trying to make Fundy spiral downwards in derealization, but it might actually represent how neglected Fundy feels to the point of feeling invisible, to the point of feeling that he “isn’t real”. But why is this Other Fundy trying to scare Fundy, and who, specifically, is the person behind the writings, you might ask? This question will be answered later on when we go more in-depth with the other books, as the bigger picture is very much needed instead of explaining it all by the first book.

v. SECOND DAY

Fundy wakes up in his base once more, evidently confused. We don’t really know why he wakes up in his base, and why the world changes every time he wakes up, but let’s just say this is all part of his dream to make sense out of it. This time, he sounds more broken, and definitely more unhinged. He calls out for any other member in the chat, telling them that whatever they’re doing is not funny. This is the first we see of Fundy believing that the others may actually just have been pulling a prank on him. He opens his chests frantically before venturing outside once more. He claims that he doesn’t believe the book, saying that this dream sequence feels pretty real to him. 

This time, Fundy puts a bigger emphasis on asking why he is alone, and why nobody seems to be here with him. Fundy seems to be more shaken up by the idea that he’s alone over the idea that he does not know anything about where he is at all. He approaches the van, and when he zooms in, he sees that Wilbur’s nametag disappeared. 

Transcript of this following scene:

“I knew you were there. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no- you can’t fool me! No, I knew you were there Wil. You were there, right there! Where did you go? Are you being- he’s being funny. This is funny! This is great. Aw, this is amazing- it’s just a prank! It’s April Fools soon- that’s why! Oh, I’m just being pranked… right?”

Now, this was… sad. This is one of the other statements that could have a double meaning. Fundy insisting that Wilbur is supposed to be there could not only be him comparing this day to the previous, but it could also imply his true feelings towards Wilbur, especially since he’s disappeared for a good portion of Fundy’s life. Fundy believes Wilbur is supposed to be there for him, but the reality is that he wasn’t. Instead of facing reality, Fundy concludes that all of this was a harmless joke instead of believing that Wilbur might have possibly left him.

Fundy attempts to enter the van once more, but his attempt doesn’t work. He then follows the path on the side directing to the ominous building only for him to realize that it has gotten closer.

The building getting closer to the main base actually has a lot of symbolism behind it. The building itself stores a lot of secrets, especially when it comes to the truths about this world and the different insecurities Fundy has repressed. Those writing the books have laid out all these secrets in every single book found in this building. The fact that it’s underground is meant to represent that these secrets are meant to be hidden in the depths of Fundy’s mind, but the fact that the building is getting closer to the main base makes it feel like 1.) the stored secrets about this world that Fundy may have forgotten about might finally seep into his consciousness, making him aware of them next time he wakes up, and 2.) the insecurities Fundy repressed deep down are seeping out more and more as it reaches the main core. Once it’s there, Fundy won’t be able to reject the truth about his abandonment issues any longer.

Fundy nears the building, still quite nervous. He opens the door, and the layout of the inside seems to be slightly similar to the previous day, but there are small details here and there that are different. Instead of 10 red carpets, there are 6, and instead of 8 yellow carpets, there are 6. Additionally, the skull seems to be closer, this time directly next to the table.

While the carpets were quite subtle, I do think it symbolizes a certain decrease of something. Red symbolizes the color for passion and love, while yellow is meant to represent happiness and positivity. Earlier, we saw that Wilbur disappeared from the Carmarvan, so the decrease of rugs for each color could represent Fundy’s love and happiness decreasing.

For the skull itself, I don’t know if I’m right, but this is what I infer from it: On the first day, we saw that Wilbur was still standing next to Fundy in the Camarvan as the first skull underground was still very far away. On the second day, when Wilbur was gone, the skull got closer, standing next to the table instead of it being far away. I theorize that if the skull is closer, then a canon death has already occurred in the time period the day wants to present. The first day presents a time where Wilbur was still taking care of Fundy, so Eret’s betrayal may not have happened yet, hence why the skull merely stayed hidden at the corner. On the second day, Wilbur has actively left Fundy, similar to the period after L’Manberg’s independence when Fundy had to partake in the Pet Wars alone. During that era, the betrayal has already happened, which is why I believe the skull is much closer this time. 

Continuing on, Fundy opens the book and begins reading. From this point onwards, I do want to go more in depth with each of the books, so I’ll put transcripts here and there with my thoughts added onto it after each transcript.

“Hi me!

Welcome back!

Yeahh, second time here? or third?

not entirely sure”

So, this is confirmation that this might not be the first time Fundy’s having dreams like this. A good question to ask is if the book was written a long time ago and has presented itself the same way it does right now, or if this book was written recently. I don’t think the stream gave a definitive answer, but it is something to keep in mind.

“Listen to me Fundy

and you should trust me because,

well you know why

There are two things you can do right now

Walk back to your base, jump in bed, fall asleep, and you will wake up as if nothing ever happened

Or you can keep reading…

And I will tell you what I know”

The book pauses for a bit then continues saying “You are not real” ten times, “You dont want to know the truth” fifteen times, and spams “WAKE UP” until the 38th page, a number we analyzed earlier because of the 38 baked potatoes. 

For the book itself, whoever is writing the book seems to be a bit hesitant when writing. It doesn’t seem to want to explain what this place truly is to Fundy, and as much as it clarifies that they are, indeed, Fundy, they never expound on how they were able to write these books and why Fundy should trust him. Other Fundy saying “you should trust me because, well you know why” is actually quite ominous, and I can only think of two reasons as to why they would say it: 1.) Other Fundy is implying that Fundy can trust him because he is, in fact, the same person, or 2.) Other Fundy is hinting that Fundy trusts too easily as seen with the people Fundy trusted in the real world.

Additionally, the Other Fundy seems to emphasize on the fact that they WANT Fundy to go to sleep and wake up in the overworld. They phrase it so that sleeping once more is the more logical option, while they basically scare Fundy with the other option, evident by his quickened heartbeat. The Other Fundy seems to know about the intricacies of this dream and its world, but seems to be very hesitant to tell Fundy about it. The continuous threats imply that the Other Fundy doesn’t want Fundy to know the truth at all.

Basically, this Other Fundy knows something, something our Fundy doesn’t know about, and wants to emphasize that it is something horrific. He will do whatever he can do so that he can stop Fundy from knowing the truth, even if it means he has to scare Fundy.

Additionally, to me, it feels like “WAKE UP” could possibly have two meanings. If the underground structure is meant to represent things that Fundy constantly represses to the back of his mind, not only would the secrets of his dream reside there, but his own repressed insecurities may reside there as well. The way Fundy treats the truth about his dreams is actually quite similar with the way he treats his insecurities- he tends to reject its existence and pretend that everything is normal. This dream isn’t just a dream, it’s an exploration of Fundy’s mind, and telling Fundy to “WAKE UP” doesn’t just refer to not knowing the truths about the dream, but it could also refer to Fundy not knowing the truths about his own insecurities hidden deep in the depths of his mind. 

vi. THIRD DAY

Fundy wakes up, breathing heavily. He paces around his room before opening the door frantically, seeing that he is still stuck in a desert. He begins to laugh, repetitively telling himself that all of this is a “joke”. He continues questioning why he’s still in this dream, and when he opens the door, he sees the ominous structure observably closer to the base. He claims that he’s actually stressing out, and Fundy goes on a tangent about this dream and reveals a bit about his insecurities:

“They’re toying with me, they’re toying with me. They’re actually- everyone is toying with me- they are ALWAYS TOYING WITH ME. Everyone is! I’m always being played with. Why? Why always me- no! Why does it always have to be me? Every single time. I don’t wanna- (sigh). I don’t wanna keep dealing with this- I just wanna- no- do I just… Do I just… Do I just go up here and listen to- wai- okay. The book said I have two options: I can wait here until it’s night time. Wait until the sun sets and I can go to sleep, and when I go to sleep and wake up, none of this is real. None of this is gonna- it’s gonna disappear. None of this is real, none of this is real, none… It’s not real, it’s not real, I am currently not real, this is no- how is this possible? How is this- wha- how did- how… None of this is real. I am not real. All I have to do is wait for midnight and just sleep, and all of this would end, right? All I have to do is… wait until night time and then… it’s all gonna be over, it’s all gonna be done. 

I just gotta sleep, and then, it’s gonna disappear. And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’ and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys! You’re always pranking me… you’ve always been there for me (sniffs). Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most. I just go to bed… I just go to bed, and then I wake up, and none of this ever happened. And we’re gonna go back to my old life where I have fun and join parties and join groups and only see them disappear in front of my eyes as I start to get attached to them. Y-yeah, that’s- that’s- that’s the choice I’m making. Go back to that... (sigh). Just… or you know…”

LOTS to unpack here, and I’ll go one by one explaining certain aspects of this because it’s not just something that showcases Fundy’s insecurities.

Firstly, interesting how Fundy believed that the book was toying with him like how a lot of other people do. That’s what makes him afraid of the book- the feeling of being pushed around. The book is actively trying to use Fundy’s insecurities against him in order to make him more and more afraid of the truth. This is interesting because Fundy is known to be ignorant towards his actual issues (just look at his monologue), but the Other Fundy seems to be acutely aware of them. I will explain why he is aware of them later on.

Secondly, this is the most observable point, Fundy seems to be aware that he is quite frankly, alone, but tends to ignore it. He copes with his abandonment issues by treating his abandonment like a joke. He believes that every single person who’s left him did it as a prank. Even if he laughs at this idea, he is also evidently hurt by it. It hits even harder when you realize that Fundy is quite the dependent character, often sucking up to any person who gives him recognition. If Fundy depends on others to dictate his self-worth, how do you think he thinks of himself right now when he literally has nobody?

Putting emphasis on Fundy’s loneliness is going to be interesting because I do think some characters in future arcs are going to exploit that. If Quackity is going to use and manipulate Fundy the same way Sam does, then there would be no doubt that he will use Fundy’s loneliness against him. Even if it’s not Quackity who approaches Fundy first- even Bad, Sam, Dream, anyone, really, could use Fundy’s loneliness against him, which will make for an interesting plot point.

Lastly, not a lot of people spotted this, but this monologue also gives us insight as to why Fundy continued looking for the truth about his dreams instead of staying in his base and waiting for night. When talking about what to look forward to once he wakes up, he talks about how much “fun” he is going to have. Slowly, you see his denial start to dwindle as he finally admits that people leave him just as he gets attached to them. As much as Fundy wanted to wake up from this horrific dream, he realizes that, once he wakes up, he has nothing to look forward to either. That’s why he hesitates when he says “Yeah, that’s the choice I’m making,” because he realizes waking up isn’t as ideal as it seems. This is why Fundy immediately goes outside afterwards with no hesitation- Fundy has nothing left to lose, hence why he chooses to venture forth. Fundy is driven to do things because he feels like his life is purposeless anyway.

Fundy then begins to head outside quietly, zooming into the ominous building while walking right towards it. He then detours for a moment, walking towards the right of the building, and approaches a giant crater filled with obsidian and blackstone.

The explosion could symbolize two things:

Any of the L’Manberg explosions. With the obsidian and blackstone combination, my guess is that this is either the first Doomsday event (L’Manbergian War of Independence) because of L’Manberg’s walls, or the November 16th War because of Schlatt’s Podium. Why the big amount of blackstone and obsidian? Well, I’m not so sure when it comes to L’Manberg as its walls didn’t have obsidian, but for the November 16th war, I do think that the abundance of blackstone and obsidian is meant to represent how Fundy is reducing the November 16th war to Schlatt’s Podium. This can be alarming as he was the one who made Schlatt’s Podium, so reducing the war to that one building might symbolize that he blames himself for the war.

Another theory, which is the theory I subscribe to more, is that this is actually depicting an event in the future that we haven’t seen yet. Namely, the prison. If you zoom in on the explosion, the block pattern is quite reminiscent of the block pattern present in the prison.

While I’ll mostly discuss Fundy’s future predicting powers later, I do think that there’s a possibility that Fundy saw a vision of the future, unlike the past two days where he saw visions of the past. The prison might possibly be nuked in the future.

Fundy then proceeds to walk back towards the building, repetitively saying “no”. He claims he needs to find out, sounding more determined than before. For this, even if the explosion could represent many things, I do think Fundy is generally reminded of the explosions he had to witness throughout the history of the Dream SMP. Perhaps he believes that finding out the truth could prevent more explosions from occurring, perhaps he figured out that this was the prison and he needed to know why it exploded, perhaps him walking away from something that’s reminiscent of real life represents his choice of wanting to learn more about his dreams rather than sticking to anything similar to real life. 

Moving on, Fundy enters the building, saying he wants to know what’s going on. The underground room seems to have changed a bit, as the chiseled quartz floors changed into quartz bricks. The place also seems to be littered with end stone blocks and bricks. The place is much darker as well, and the carpets on the floor and table seem to be gone entirely. Two skulls can be observed near the table.

My brain actually can’t reason as to why the end blocks were there, or why the quartz blocks changed. My guess is that the end stones will eventually connect to a future plot point relating to the End, but again, I’m not sure. The carpets being gone could represent that the love and happiness (red and yellow) that Fundy had disappeared completely. The dishevelled state of the room could represent that the secrets being held inside this underground room are finally breaking free as its confines tear down more and more. 

Now the skulls- if we go by the theory I presented earlier, then the skulls are meant to represent canon deaths. If the skull was tucked into the corner, then that means death is to come, but if it’s near the table, then I believe the canon death already occurred. If two skulls are next to the table, then it could imply that whatever time period the day is set in should be around the time Fundy loses a second canon death, which hasn’t occurred yet. Again, this is all speculation, so I might be overthinking, but if the explosion is meant to represent the prison getting nuked, then there’s a possibility Fundy would lose a canon life before the prison gets destroyed.

Now, onto the juicy bit: the book. The book reads as follows:

“Hi. again.

...Why are we so persistent

...Why are we so stubborn

...You have been here before, but you keep coming back

...Why?

WHY???

You dont want to know the truth

It will hurt you

I dont want to be hurt again

YOU dont want to be hurt again

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE JUST LEAVE

GO TO BED

FALL ASLEEP

ENJOY YOUR LIFE

ENJOY THE FUN THINGS

THE TRUTH ISNT WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE

STOP THIS

STOP!!!”

The book tries scaring Fundy by spamming “WAKE UP” across multiple pages.

“It’s not going to work, huh..

Listen to me Fundy…

Your mind is not safe…

You are not imagining this…

This place might not be real…

But he is.

Spare yourself.

I need you to listen carefully.

Do not join him.

Whatever he asks of you.

Do NOT join him.

his plans aren’t as nice as they sound.

his intentions aren’t what you think they are.

he will use you

he will destroy you

everything you ever loved

everyone you ever cared about

do not join him.”

Before I explain this book, I think it’s best to also note down what was said in the next book as well so I can better explain what’s going on.

“note to self

hello

I just wrote this book to remember who I am

To remember what is happening

All the books I just found are indeed written by me

Listen to yourself

You suffer from a very odd illness

You suffer from a form of insomnia, within your own dreams.

Now the effects of this aren’t really known, and even I don’t fully know what is going on.

but let me tell you

somehow, this world, these actions and events, are linked to reality.

things that happen in these so-called “dreams”, tend to leak into the real world

they will actually happen.

you might wonder how exactly this is a bad thing.

the ability to predict certain events from happening, sounds pretty cool.”

Fundy then stops reading the book, seemingly overwhelmed by the influx of information. Analysis time, boys, time to unpack what this all means.

Firstly, I believe that this dream has happened before. Multiple times, actually. If certain “events” in the dream are meant to predict the future, then the moments involving the Camarvan on the first two days could imply that Fundy has seen this place before during the L’Manberg era where he could’ve predicted Eret’s betrayal and the loss of his father. If we think about it, the books could honestly be given to Fundy at any time period and it would work. Look at the entire section of the book describing someone who Fundy can’t trust- this “him” person could honestly be… anyone who abandoned Fundy? If the book hints at someone who might possibly hurt and use Fundy, then Eret, Wilbur, Schlatt, and Dream could also be considered. These people were nice to Fundy at first before betraying him one way or another. There is a possibility that this dream has warned Fundy about these people in the past, only for Fundy to forget about the dream. What about this time though, who is this “him” that’s going to betray Fundy during this time period? Well, the easy answer would be Quackity, but Bad could be a possibility as well. With the hint towards Quackity at the end, I do believe that Quackity would be the main suspect, but it’s also good to keep an open mind as we don’t know much of who Fundy’s involved with in Season 3.

Now, why would Fundy be able to forget about the dreams, though? I do think that whoever is responsible for writing the books are doing their best to prevent Fundy from uncovering the truth. Who do I think are the book authors? Well, I don’t think they were lying when they said that they were Fundy. I believe that, just like the Dream voice in Ranboo’s head, the Fundy that writes books would be some sort of conscience or subconscious in Fundy’s mind. This part of the mind holds certain memories repressed by Fundy, as well as some of the insecurities he chooses to ignore. They are aware of all of Fundy’s past visits of this dream, and they know the dangers of it, which is why they want Fundy to not uncover the truth. 

The signed book claims that whatever Fundy sees in the dream will seep out into reality. Knowing this, I believe Fundy’s subconscious is trying to prevent Fundy from seeking out the truth to prevent these future visions from happening in real life; this especially applies to events that involve Fundy possibly being hurt. There is a possibility that this Fundy has seen past Fundy’s discover events like the Camarvan and the loss of Wilbur occur in dreams way past before it occurred in real life, so they feel afraid that our Fundy would uncover more and more truths that would become reality. While we don’t know if Other Fundy’s beliefs on future predicting is true, this gives us a better understanding of why they want Fundy to go to bed and wake up. (Additionally, the Other Fundy has placed emphasis on saying that the truth may hurt Fundy, so there is a possibility that these future events might involve something that heightens Fundy’s insecurities more. That’s why this Fundy seems to be so aware of Fundy’s insecurities- they have witnessed Fundy’s insecurities being used against him in certain visions.)

For the memory thing, so far, I believe a part of Fundy’s mind is actively suppressing all the memories Fundy has of his dreams. Fundy already represses a lot of his insecurities, so using Fundy’s insecurities against him might actually enable them to keep Fundy’s memories about the dream locked in the corners of his mind. The place where the book is kept in is underground, after all, but we do have to keep in mind that the building is getting closer and closer to Fundy’s main base. This could symbolize that Fundy will remember his dreams more once he wakes up.

So basically, so far, Fundy has dreamt this dream multiple times in the past, and during each dream, he witnesses an event in the future that could possibly happen in real life. Fundy’s subconscious, or possibly past versions of Fundy, are trying to warn future Fundy’s to not uncover too many truths about the dream as they believe this could possibly manifest terrible events to happen in real life. To get Fundy to go back to bed, they try scaring Fundy, using his insecurities against him, only this time, Fundy is a bit more disobedient because, again, he feels like he has nothing left to lose. 

Another theory I have which I’m not 100% sure about is that this Other Fundy, as much as it has good intentions, may have committed a mistake when they tried to get Fundy to bed by using his insecurities. If anything in the dream may happen in real life, them heightening Fundy’s insecurities might pass over to the real world as well. While scaring Fundy could prevent him from uncovering the truth, it might’ve also been a double-edged sword as Fundy is more aware of his insecurities more than ever.

Continuing on, Fundy decided to leave the building, seeing that it’s night time. He sounds relieved knowing that he can sleep and that he can wake up from this dream. He celebrates for a moment, throwing the book away, but then he hesitates, saying he wants to know the truth. He picks the book up again but doesn’t read it immediately, claiming that he could just sleep instead of knowing the truth.

Fundy seems to revel in the idea of waking up for a bit until he mentions how much of a “blast” he can have with everyone once he wakes up. After mentioning this, he immediately picks up the book with no hesitation. This is the second time Fundy is shown to be motivated in finding the truth about his dreams because of him realizing how unfun the real world is. Again, Fundy is seen to be motivated by the fact that he has nothing left to lose, and as much as he is scared of this dream, he seems to prefer finding this world’s truth over going back into the real world where he’s practically alone.

Moving on, the book continues:

“however…

while this might be the case of dreams…

this is also the case for nightmares…

this is your last warning Fundy

please… for the both of us…

just wake up”

This part of the book simply affirms all I’ve theorized about earlier. The Other Fundy hints that some events that Fundy might witness in his dream would be detrimental to Fundy, which is why he doesn’t want Fundy to continue exploring. He knows that Fundy will possibly manifest an event that will ruin him in real life, so he wants Fundy to sleep instead of accidentally manifesting his demise.

vii. FOURTH DAY

Fundy then wakes up once more, complaining that this dream never ends. He goes outside, seeing a black, hooded figure slowly turn around and chase him. With a quickened heartbeat, he runs up his stairs to sleep in a black bed placed on the roof. Fundy screams as we see the hooded figure approach, and the screen fades to black. A white smiley face reminiscent of the one on Quackity’s skin appears on the screen as casino slots sound effects play in the background.

Now, what do I make of this? Well, firstly, we gotta point out that his bed at the end looked EERILY similar to a gravestone. A lot of websites claim that sleeping in a gravestone or seeing a gravestone could indicate change, especially when it comes to overcoming one’s sadness or problems. In a literal sense, we can think of it as something foreshadowing a future canon death, especially if we think that the person chasing Fundy is the grim reaper.

Speaking of that person, I do have a couple of explanations as to who this person is:

The person is death themselves, the grim reaper. This is the common conclusion everyone believes in, especially when we consider this “him” person possibly hurting Fundy, and that second skull in the underground room. Quackity is the main culprit for now, especially with that smiley face in the end, but there could be other possibilities! Like, what if someone takes Fundy’s canon life before he joins Quackity, which is why the smiley face only popped up after Fundy’s dream death? Mayhaps someone affiliated with Quackity might be doing the dirty work for him, so Bad, Sam, Dream, and anyone, really, could be responsible for Fundy’s future canon death. Moreover, the fact that this death occurs affirms the beliefs of the Other Fundy. The Other Fundy merely wants Fundy to be safe from possibly manifesting his demise in real life, but Fundy’s curiosity got the best of him, and in the next sequence, he was killed, proving that the Other Fundy was right in saying that Fundy should’ve just slept.

A theory I made up which I’m not 100% sure of is that this figure is actually Fundy’s subconscious trying to get him to sleep. When Fundy was being chased, we heard a quickened heartbeat, and where was the only other time we heard that? When Fundy was reading the “WAKE UP” and “you’re not real” messages from those books. We can view this as the Other Fundy’s attempt in trying to get Fundy to actually sleep by using another scare tactic against Fundy. And well… it did work! Because Fundy was afraid of this figure, Fundy went to sleep. There is also a possibility that this occurrence is what makes Fundy forget about the dream because his subconscious got a hold of Fundy and forcibly made him forget, but I’m not 100% sure about that one yet.

Lastly, the face! That should already allude to Fundy possibly joining Quackity’s lore, and with the “38 potatoes” symbolizing business opportunities, I expect Fundy to be joining Las Nevadas as a possible employee. Quackity does, in fact, prey on people who are insecure, and can easily get them to do whatever he wants because of his words. If he can get Sam to give him the tools needed to torture Dream, Quackity might exploit Fundy’s loneliness into making him do whatever Quackity wants from him. 

Another face that this could possibly connect to is the face in the Egg lair! While I’m leaning more towards Quackity because of the casino sounds, I do wanna say that the Egg and the Eggpire could possibly be connected as well, especially when the Egg could provide Fundy anything he wants. Just like how Quackity could prey on Fundy’s insecurities, the Egg preys on those who feel like they’re missing something, so as much as Fundy could be manipulated by Quackity, he could also be manipulated by the Egg. Additionally, business opportunities could apply to the Eggpire as well as they’ve contacted Purpled in the past to assassinate Puffy, so who’s to say they won’t try adding Fundy to the Eggpire?

TLDR; This entire stream showcased both Fundy’s insecurities and Fundy’s future predicting powers and how this “Other Fundy”, aka his subconscious, wants him to repress them because they believe that if Fundy uncovers the secrets of his dream more, then Fundy would accidentally manifest his demise in real life. Additionally, Fundy is very lonely, making him vulnerable of being used in the future because he is desperate to get any type of recognition from anybody. In summary, be afraid of Fundy’s future lore streams, be very afraid.

viii. ADDITIONAL NOTES

Even when I finish this, there’s a lot of questions to ask about this stream that I want you to keep in mind:

How many times has Fundy encountered this before?

How does Fundy forget all the information he got from the dreams?

How does Fundy write to himself?

Why is there so many details connected to Karl, and what does it have to do with time travelling?

Why does Fundy return to his bed every time his heartbeat quickens when reading a book?

Was the first scene part of the dream or not?

Could the underground room’s structure actually mean something?

And there’s probably more, but just saying, keep an open mind about this entire stream because there’s definitely a lot more to uncover.

I want to reiterate: I am not the Messiah, so don’t take my word as the truth and the absolute truth. I’d love to hear your thoughts about Fundy’s stream as a lot of it could be up for speculation! The entire thing is filled to the brim with symbolisms, so there could be a lot of interpretations to consider. If you enjoyed this, feel free to like and retweet because I worked my ASS off with this one. 

Special thanks to the following:

Fundy and any of the Dream SMP members because that stream was INCREDIBLE. Go give them your love and support.

kingjem for always being there whenever I want to discuss any ideas I have about the Dream SMP. One of the smartest bitches I know, go follow them.

To all my betas who reviewed this document since I have a TON of grammar mistakes (thanks English): prismartist, bootsforthebootsgod, Finni_june (twt), ender-hyperfocuses-on-things, and Dngertosociety2 (twt)

And to all of you who like this post and would share it to other people! All support is appreciated. :D

[deniigi]

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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

Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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

There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

  --

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

  --

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

 --

 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

 --

 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

 --

 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

 --

 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

 --

 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

  --

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

 --

 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

 --

 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

 --

 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

 --

 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

 --

 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

 --

 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

 --

 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

 PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

  --

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

  --

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

  --

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

 Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

  --

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

   --

[hermannsthumb]

As per our convo, Newt getting set up with Hermann via Hermann’s father’s binder full of pre-approved suitors for his son...

(from @k-sci-janitor 👀) easily one of our funniest concepts yet. I was going to end on newt coming over for dinner scenario but I like the ominous open ending. I'm not actually sure when kaiju attacks fall in the PR timeline so excuse my handwaveyness, LOL

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

Hermann’s relationship with his father is what one would call strenuous at best, but—Hermann must admit, to the man’s credit, and in spite of his many flaws—he took the news of Hermann’s sexual orientation as unflinchingly as if Hermann had told him the day’s weather. It was a bit annoying, in fact. Hermann had agonized over the proper way to breach the subject for months, certain it spoke to some sort of personal ruin (whether ostracization from the Gottliebs or being forbade following through on any attraction he may feel whilst still living under the family roof, he wasn't sure), before finally simply announcing it one day at the breakfast table on a whim.

It had been a long-standing tradition that Hermann’s parents compile a binder—effectively of dossiers—on all the most eligible bachelors (for their daughter) and bachelorettes (for their sons) to aid in the choice of the latest Gottlieb mate. It was easiest this way, or so Hermann and his siblings were told. Parental approval was already secured. The histories of each were already secured, which bypassed any nasty shocks that might emerge in the courtship stage. Most of them were children of his father's colleagues or bright minds in their own rights: surgeons, and dentists, and mathematicians. Poets were strictly forbidden.

The occasion of Hermann’s breakfast table announcement had also been the day Hermann’s father presented him with his very first binder of prospective mates—a few days after his eighteenth birthday, and shortly before he was to go off to begin work on his PhD. His father had slid him a hand-written binder of names, no more than a dozen, and all with accompanying photographs. “All are accomplished young women,” he assured Hermann. “We can arrange any meetings of your choice over your winter holidays.”

Hermann glared down at the row of frozen smiles. He stabbed his fork into his cooked tomato wedge. “I don’t want to marry any of these women,” he said, and turned his glare on his father. He still had a rebellious streak in him at that point, something nurtured by a charismatic young man he used to trail after in boarding school, who pierced Hermann’s ear with a sewing needle in the boys’ toilets and listened to songs about setting things on fire. In late this streak had manifested itself in Hermann in nicking packets of cigarettes from his father’s study, one of which was in his pocket now. The weight of it made Hermann feel bolder. “I don’t want to marry any woman,” he continued. “I like men.”

The binder was drawn away in silence, and Hermann was free to eat his toast and tomatoes. The next morning a binder of young men was in its place.

(In a way the acceptance infuriated Hermann. It meant he could not blame his father’s obvious dislike for him on an unfounded, homophobic prejudice; rather, it was a result of Hermann’s own personal failings.)

The binder was placed at Hermann’s breakfast plate every day until he left for his studies. It was placed at his plate when he returned from them five years later. Not even the emergence of the kaiju from the bottom of the ocean shortly after Hermann turned twenty-four dampened his father’s hopes, nor turning all their scientific efforts towards the new jaeger program: some names were removed from the binder (the reasoning Hermann shudders to think at), more still were added, though Hermann is expected only to consider it once a week now on account of his busy schedule. This was one of such days.

“Your brother is very happy with his wife,” Hermann’s father reminds him. “She was one of my first suggestions for him, in fact.”

Hermann is not fond of his sister-in-law. Too rude—too cold. Though perhaps that makes her perfect for Hermann’s brother. “Haven’t we got bigger things to worry about these days than whether or not I’m going to marry?” Hermann says. He adds milk to his tea. “I’m sure they’re all, er, marvelous selections, only—”

“Your sister, too, with her husband,” father says.

Hermann sighs. He hasn’t got much of the rebellious streak he used to in him anymore—too stressed. Not fancying a fight before they’ve even begun today’s coding work, he picks up the binder and begins flipping through it. Sons of engineers working on the jaeger program with them, prominent young chemists, many of whom Hermann has been presented with since he was eighteen. Plenty of them are even handsome. Half of Hermann wonders if he should just pick the least-unappealing one of the bunch and be done with it already. He turns the page over and freezes. “Oh,” he says. “This one is—new.”

“Hm?” father says.

Hermann holds up the binder, tapping at a new entry. “Newton Geiszler.”

“Dr. Geiszler,” father says, nodding. “A child prodigy from Berlin—he’s made tremendous strides in kaiju science in such little time. And,” he adds, “three PhDs. Two of them before he even turned twenty.” The unspoken implication was that Dr. Geiszler far surpassed Hermann in intelligence and Hermann should feel ashamed for not skipping as many grades as Dr. Geiszler.

Hermann feels he ought to resent Dr. Geiszler for it, but he's finding it difficult to summon up any animosity towards him. It's likely because Hermann finds Dr. Geiszler to be strikingly handsome in his photograph: cheeks which haven’t quite lost their baby fat (giving him the appearance of being a scruffy hamster), large, thick glasses, tousled hair, an easy grin. Three PhDs, and German at that. And a child prodigy? “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned him to me before,” Hermann says. He seems precisely the sort father would. Geiszler’s photograph is black-and-white and a bit grainy, but Hermann swears he could make out the lightest bit of freckles across his cheeks.

“I’d not heard of him until he published an article last week on kaiju biology,” father says. “Besides—he’s moved to America.”

Geiszler has three piercings up the side of his left ear. “I am going to write to him,” Hermann declares.

Father nods, and picks up his newspaper, clearly already disinterested. They speak no more of it that day.

It is not hard to find Dr. Geiszler online (his name is not the most common, and his field of study certainly isn’t), nor is it hard to match his photograph to his faculty page on MIT’s website. From there, Hermann retrieves Dr. Geiszler’s email address. He takes the evening to read over Geiszler’s publications spanning back to 2003 before he gathers up the courage to type out an actual email.

Dear Dr. Geiszler,

You do not know me, but I have recently been made acquaintance with your work and find it—Hermann pauses—scintillating. My father and I are—Hermann backspaces this—I am currently working on the development of the jaeger program…

There’s a response waiting for him the next morning. It’s as enthusiastic as it is brief. Dr. Gottlieb- That’s so awesome!! Believe it or not I’ve been following your work too. I have a million questions for you about the jaegers. If it’s classified info I promise I won’t tell. -Newt

It makes Hermann smile like nothing ever has before.

Hermann’s correspondence with Dr. Geiszler does not transgress beyond the professional until the following January. By that time, Hermann and his father have successfully completed the coding for their first jaeger prototype, and Hermann has been offered his fair share of tenured university positions to pick from as he likes. He finds himself oddly disappointed that none of them are in America with Dr. Geiezler. This, which leads to the realization that he’s grown rather fond of Dr. Geiszler, is perhaps what drives Hermann to uncharacteristic sentimental extremes on January 19th: he orders Dr. Geiszler a birthday present. The first email Dr. Geiszler sends him after that addresses him as Hermann. The first email Hermann sends Dr. Geiszler after that addresses him as Newton. Things move rapidly after that.

“Are you still writing to that young biologist?” Hermann’s father asks him in March. Hermann has spent the last two months devouring every bit of information Newton has seen fit to divulge about his personal life: his dexterity with no less than three different instruments, his favorite loud monster movies, how he’d love to get a kaiju tattooed on him one day. Hermann suspects he might be falling in love with Newton. In hardly five months! These are war times, Hermann supposes, so it would make sense. People are meant to do such extreme things.

“I am,” Hermann says.

“I’ve asked around about him,” Hermann’s father says. His expression is stern—unimpressed. “About his character. I’m not sure it’s wise to continue your correspondence.”

The reasons are this. Dr. Geiszler’s methods are unorthodox. Dr. Geiszler is loud and uncouth, and has little respect for his intellectual superiors. Dr. Geiszler was thrown out of a convention once for storming up on stage and stealing a microphone from an engineer to shout about the destruction coral reefs. Dr. Geiszler was in a distasteful band for several years. Dr. Geiszler was once arrested for egging a politician’s house. Dr. Geiszler has gone on record as describing the kaiju as “kinda cool”. Almost none of this is news to Hermann; in fact, that which is only causes Hermann’s affection for Newton to grow. “I will consider your advice,” Hermann says, knowing he won’t. Besides, it's not as if his father really has Hermann's interests at heart—Hermann knows he merely wishes to preempt any scandal Newton Geiszler could possibly bring upon the Gottlieb name.

In April Newton goes on television and declares that he’s sure the kaiju are extraterrestrial in origin, on account of their great size and his brief examination of a sample from the second kaiju to make landfall. He’s laughed off by his older peers before he can get another word out. The email he writes to Hermann afterwards is furious, capslock-heavy, and expresses that Hermann is the only one who takes him seriously in the whole world. It leaves Hermann certain that he is in love with Newton.

“Dr. Geiszler was interviewed on some American television program,” Hermann’s father says a few days later.

“I know,” Hermann says, proudly. Newton was on television. “I watched it.”

“He made some extraordinary claims,” Hermann’s father says.

But Hermann is thinking only of the outfit Newton wore (skinny jeans and an oversized leather jacket, so out of place compared to the suited other scientists sitting around him), the shade of his eyes (hazel), his short stature (hardly taller than Hermann), and the cadence of his voice (high, but not unappealing). He’d been so confident, and carried himself with a self-assurance that was foreign to Hermann. It was marvelously attractive. “I’m sure they're correct,” Hermann says. "Every single one. Newton is a terribly brilliant scientist." All bold claims are met with derision at first, are they not?

Newton’s theory is proven correct after the next kaiju attack, when experts other than him get their hands on kaiju samples and validate his claims. The general consensus after that is that the kaiju are not of this world. And Newton was the first to propose the theory! Hermann sends Newton an email full of congratulations, and Newton responds with a heart emoticon in his sign-off. Newton isn't just a brilliant scientist. “Newton is a genius,” Hermann tells his father, dreamily.

The binder reappears on Hermann’s work desk a few months later, Newton’s page torn conspicuously from it. Hermann tips the whole thing straight into his trash can. He has more important things to worry about—arranging a meeting with Newton, perhaps. Hermann ought to have him over for dinner.

[duggardata]

Were Jed + Katey “Betrothed”?

There’s a bit of a rumor going around Fundie Tumblr, saying that Jed Duggar + Katey Nakatsu’s Relationship followed a procedure known as ‘betrothal,’ rather than the Duggar–typical ‘courtship.’  Ultimately, I think the distinction is more–or–less meaningless...  Either way, it’s a parent–supervised, chaste, patriarchal method of ‘dating,’ as much as the Duggars despise that word.  But, honestly, I’m intrigued by the Duggars’, etc., odd relationship practices—and, I’d like to discuss the possibility that Jed + Katey were, indeed, ‘betrothed.”

After the jump...

First of all...

What is Courtship?

As Duggar Snarkers, we’re probably all familiar with the concept of ‘courtship.’  The Duggars (and Bateses, etc.) often discuss it.  Basically, they like to say it’s ‘dating with a purpose.’  You don’t date for the sake of dating; you only date if you’re ready for marriage and believe your partner is your intended spouse.  A Duggar–style courtship also differs from ‘secular dating’ in that there is a lot of parental involvement:  The man pursues the woman only after getting consent from her father, and both partners are expected to seek their parents’ counsel as the relationship progresses to determine if marriage is appropriate.  There’s also a slew of rules, which vary somewhat, but often include—

Strict Limitations on Physical Contact   Sex is always off–limits, as is kissing in most cases.  Certain types of hugs might be banned.  Hand–holding might be banned.  ‘No Touch’ courtships aren’t unheard of.

Constant Supervision / Chaperoning   Usually, the couple isn’t alone together, ever, until marriage.  Chaperones tend to be ‘provided’ by the woman’s family.  Sometimes phone calls and texts are monitored.

Entrenched Gender Roles   Generally, the man is in control.  He asks the woman to court, decides when they get engaged, etc.  His partner begins a sad transformation, wherein she starts looking to the male as her absolute ‘headship’ and leader....  It’s creepy.

Lots of Praying  Everyone involved prays a lot and tries to figure out if the pairing is ‘God’s will,’ or not.

Courtship is a commitment, but it is not unbreakable.  Sometimes courtships fail, and that’s by design...  The whole point is to figure out if you’re meant to marry one another.  You haven’t decided yet.  You’re trying to decide.

What is Betrothal?

So...  How does ‘betrothal’ compare?  First of all, I need to say:  There isn’t a 100% agreed upon definition of ‘betrothal,’ here, since the Duggars have not ever publicly discussed it or publicly engaged in the practice.  With that said, I’ve done some research about ‘betrothal’ in Duggar–y circles, and here’s the gist...

With betrothal, there’s no trial period.  From the start, the couple vows—often literally—to eventually marry their partner.  There’s no backing out.  (If you do, you’re breaking your vow to God.)  Basically...  You go from zero to engaged.  (And, really, it’s more than engaged.  With a typical engagement, there isn’t a solemn vow before God; with betrothal, there is.)  After the betrothal, the new couple spends a period of time getting acquainted and planning the wedding, and then they get married.  As with courtship, the rules of betrothal vary a lot; however, in my research, I did see some trends.  Here are the ways that, IMO, betrothal notably varies from courtship—

Solemn Vow to Marry w/ Little to No Trial Period   See Above.

Ceremony / Ritual Aspect   Often, the betrothal itself occurs at some sort of ceremony.  It’s solemnized.  Often, there’s a literal exchange of vows, similar to a wedding ceremony.  Contracts aren’t unheard of.

More Extreme Parental Involvement   Often, the parents—the father, specifically—is even more involved than is typical in a ‘courtship.’  He often takes on essentially the entire responsibility of vetting the young suitor for his daughter, since there’s no ‘trial period’ where she gets to know him before being betrothed.  Basically, the father picked out his daughter’s husband for her.  That’s the whole point.

“Arranged” Feeling   See Above.  It’s not unheard of for the man and woman to meet for the first time on the date of their betrothal.

(Note—I’m talking about fundie–style betrothal, here.  Betrothal is actually a long–standing practice of various groups.  Notably, it’s part of Judaism, and discussed in the Torah.  We’re not talking about that sort of betrothal or any other sort of betrothal, here.  I’m strictly talking about the bizarre concept of betrothal occasionally practiced on the fringes of the Duggars’ circle.)

More About Fundie Betrothal

What’s clear, at least to me, is that fundie ‘betrothal’ is a way to ‘one–up’ the more typical practice of ‘courtship.’  Apparently, rejecting dating isn’t enough for some families.  They’re not satisfied just to ‘court,’ like everyone else.  So, they take things one step further with ‘betrothal,’ which they claim is better—more biblical, etc.—than mere ‘courtship.’

Digging into this, Duggar Data learned that a few fringe fundies really pushed this ‘betrothal’ concept.  One was Vaughn Ohlman.  Ohlman previously ran a website called ‘Let Them Marry,’ which creepily encouraged young marriage.  Basically, Ohlman’s whole schtick—which he sums up in “True Love Doesn’t Wait,” an article that is basically his manifesto—is that young fundies should marry as soon as possible, since supposedly the Bible says so, and God.  In pushing this strange agenda, Ohlman naturally got to the topic of the proper way to select a spouse...  His answer was ‘betrothal.’  (See Also.)  Eventually, Ohlman traveled the country, teaching about betrothal and how it’s the ‘right’ way to find a mate.  Courtship is ungodly and unbiblical, yada yada yada.  (If you’re wondering...  Yes, he was nuts.  Absolutely nuts.  Thankfully, he ended up shutting down his ministry after receiving a lot of well–earned criticism.)

Vaughan married off his son, Joshua, via a betrothal.  Here’s Joshua + Laura’s Story, which is one of the best–known fundie betrothal stories.  Another well–known, and highly disturbing, betrothal story is that of Matthew + Maranatha Chapman.  (See Also.  See Also.)  Also, here’s a chart comparing betrothal to secular dating and courtship, which I thought was pretty interesting.     

So, What About Jed + Katey?

Why, exactly, do people think Jed + Katey were betrothed?  A few things drive the rumor—

The ‘Biblical Betrothal’ Post   There’s a mysterious, password–protected post on the Nakatsu Family Blog, entitled ‘Biblical Betrothal.’  Kory made the post in June 2018.  Its contents is unknown, since it’s password–protected.

The Vows at The Proposal   On the video documenting Jed’s proposal, which was posted on the Nakatsu Family Blog, Jed and Katey apparently exchanged vows when they got engaged.  These vows somewhat resemble the vows that might be exchanged at a betrothal ceremony.

Kory’s Speech At The Wedding   At the Wedding, Kory made a speech when he ‘gave’ Katey to Jed, in which he sort of implies that he personally selected Jed for her, and Katey had agreed to this.

The Wedding Vows   Overally, Jed + Katey’s Wedding just seemed very, very fundie, if that makes sense.  Their vows hammered on the wife’s submission, yada yada yada.  Gives the impression that this was a very strict relationship, and they’re deeply committed to the disgusting notion of biblical patriarchy—which is the exact sort of idea that betrothal advocates are into.

That said, there’s also...

Evidence Against A Betrothal—

During the wedding, the pastor referred to their ‘courtship, and made no mention of betrothal whatsoever.  (And it’s not like he held back, at all, in talking about those fringe fundie beliefs...  Just read their vows!)

According to Reed Roberts, and also Jed, Jed + Katey were together for about a year, prior to marriage.  So, if those vows at the proposal were a betrothal, it clearly wasn’t a ‘traditional’ betrothal...  Since they’d already been together for awhile, at that point.

Reed Roberts denies that Jed + Katey were “arranged.”  (Though, I think it’s also worth mentioning...  He didn’t actually say how they met.  Which I think is kinda weird.  It seems natural to tell the ‘how they met’ story, in attempting to dispel rumors of an arranged marriage.  But he doesn’t.)

Final Thoughts

Duggar Data doesn’t think that Jed + Katey had a ‘true’ betrothal, thought I do suspect the courtship was probably stricter than most, and that Kory probably played a larger role than is ‘typical.’  I think it’s possible that Kory read about—or perhaps, even attended a seminar—about ‘biblical betrothal,’ which led him to making that post on his blog.  As for his comments at the wedding...  I take them to mean that Kory urged Katey to allow him to guide her in choosing her partner, and she agreed.  Maybe he even set her and Jed up.  But...  I’m not at all convinced that he chose Jed without her input, or that she and Jed actually agreed to a ‘betrothal,’ in the sense of vowing to marry as strangers.

Also, one last thing...  Regardless of what Jed + Katey called their relationship, I’m of the opinion that, honestly, it’s basically the same nonsense the Duggars have always practiced.  Betrothal or courtship...  It’s really not that different, in my view.  It’s all based on the same bullshit—namely. twisted gender roles and so–called ‘biblical patriarchy.’  Whether they were ‘arranged,’ or ‘betrothed,’ or whatever, we know the fathers always play a major role.  We know the women always defer to their ‘headship.’  Perhaps Katey + Jed (and Kory) were slightly more overt about it, but that’s it...  Call it Kool–Aid or call it Tang, it’s the same sugary nonsense.

[ebaeschnbliah]

SHERLOCK’S  WEBSITE

‘Reading the document is the same as seeing the author’

This says a Chinese proverb (X). What does it mean then, when John tells Sherlock in A Scandal in Belgravia: ‘nobody is reading your website’?

SHERLOCK: I have a website. JOHN: In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your website.

Some more musings about Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ and its content below the cut ...

Just a little while later in the same episode - while he writes aboout the unsolved plane crash case in Düsseldorf ... ‘Sherlock Holmes baffled’ - John describes his own blog as Sherlock’s ‘living’.

JOHN: Look at that. One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five. SHERLOCK: Sorry, what? JOHN: I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. SHERLOCK: Two hundred and forty-three.

‘This is your living’ is basically the same as ‘this is your life’. This is YOU. The way John describes Sherlock on his own blog, shapes how the public eye views the great detective. The same way as Dr Watson did in canon in his stories for The Strand. This fact becomes even more clear during the greenhouse scene in TAB. Although Dr Watson is aware that he doesn’t tell the truth about Holmes, he doesn’t change his stories about him either. 

HOLMES: .... as I have often explained before, all emotion is abhorrent to me. It is the grit in a sensitive instrument ... the crack in the lens. WATSON: Yes. HOLMES: Well, there you are, you see? I’ve said it all before. WATSON: No, I wrote all that. You’re quoting yourself from The Strand Magazine. HOLMES: Well, exactly. WATSON: No, those are my words, not yours! That is the version of you that I present to the public: the brain without a heart; the calculating machine. I write all of that, Holmes, and the readers lap it up, but I do not believe it.

If John’s statement ‘my blog is your living’ can be translated into ‘my blog is your life’ - my blog is YOU - what then can be said about John’s other comment, regarding Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’, when he tells Sherlock: ‘nobody’s reading your website’? If the document, the blog, the website reflects the personality of the writer, the author and when nobody is reading Sherlock’s website because nobody is interested in its content ... doesn’t this translate into:  'nobody’s interested in who you really are’?  I assume one can indeed read it that way, because the plot confirms such a translation as well.

Oh, don’t worry. I know who you really are. I’m never off your website.  (THOB,  Dr Frankland)

If Dr Frankland knows who Sherlock really is, just by looking at his website - at Sherlock, the author -  maybe it would be a good idea to take a look as well. ... the same way Sherlock advices Kitty Riley in TRF: ‘Well, look at ME and tell me what you see ... you can just read what you need’. 

First of all, I’m not going to use the external internet website created for Sherlock BBC in this post. @possiblyimbiassed did already a detailed and very interesting analysis of it in ‘The Science of Reduction’. In the comments of that post I tried to exlpain the reasons for my doubts as to whether those external informations - as fascinating and tempting as they are - could lead to a solution for the story told on TV. Anyway, in this post I’m going to look at Sherlock’s website just as it is presented on screen. But what can be deduced about The Sciene of Deduction by using solely informations from TV? There’s not much to go on, one might say ... and as I’m no Sherlock Holmes either, I will most likely ‘miss almost everything of importance’, like John did with Carl’s shoes. But looking at Sherlock, the author, is definitely worth a try  ... :)))) 

The Science of Deduction

Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ can be seen already in the Unaired PILOT when he is about to answer requests from various people. The very first message he is just writing, is directed at his brother Mycroft who apparently contacted him in a somewhat ... ‘impossible situation’. Sherlock’s answer is a quote from canon, probably the most well known and often used statement of the great detective ... in canon as well as in many adaptations:

Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth.  (The Sign of the Four)

How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?  (The Sign of the Four)

It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.  (The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet)

We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.  (Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans)

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Adventure of the Blanched Soldier)

Five more requests wait for Sherlock’s attention. His Inbox is indeed well filled ... at least six possible cases ...

Sherlock answers Gregson’s request about a ‘Church bell theft’. This done, he is clearly pleased about DI Lestrade’s not very informative message ‘Please call me’. When he is about to answer Jones request about ‘Samson and Del’, Mike Stamford and John Watson enter the room and Sherlock stops working through his Inbox. 

The next day Sherlock and John meet for the first time at Baker Street 221b. John mentions that he’d found Sherlock’s website the night prior but contrary to Sherlock’s big expectations, John isn’t much impressed (unlike Jeff Hope who thinks Sherlock’s Science of Deduction is brilliant). This scene happens in both versions - PILOT and ASIP - almost identically.

JOHN: Oh, I, um, looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: Quite amusing, I suppose. SHERLOCK: “Amusing”? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and – what was it? – a retired plumber by his left hand. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career by your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits by your mobile phone. JOHN: How? SHERLOCK: You read the article. JOHN: The article was absurd. SHERLOCK: But I know about his drinking habits. I even know that he left his wife.

Sherlock BBC, PILOT

One of the small and also strange differences between the two versions is the ‘identification’ text line from Sherlock’s website, quoted by John. In PILOT Sherlock refers to a plumber and his left hand and in ASIP to an airline pilot and his left thumb. “It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles” tells Holmes in The Man with the Twisted Lip and “It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important” in A Case of Identity. A lot of such little, seemingly unnecessary modifications and inconsistencies can be found throughout this adaptation. Maybe they are indeed there for a reason?

JOHN: I looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits in your mobile phone. JOHN: How?

Sherlock BBC, ASIP

Why had the profession to be changed from plumber to airline pilot and the body part from hand to thumb, one wonders? Unless it’s because plumbers have to do with water and work down to earth or even underground. They install pipes/tubes or mend broken ones. By the way, in german language the phrase ‘install a pipe’ (ein Rohr verlegen) has the same meaning as the english ‘put up shelves’. Airline pilots on the other hand often tend to be situated high up above the clouds. Well, this sort of topic runs like a red thread throuout the whole story. And that strange change of profession isn’t the only ‘small’ modification from PILOT to ASIP either. 

(Strange little changes   Plumber musings)

Also interesting ... there are no visuals of Sherlock’s website in the official episodes ASIP and TBB. Only in the following episode, TGG, the viewer is able to take a first ‘official’ look at The Science of Deductions, when Sherlock writes his messages to the bomber. The look of his website has changed completely.

The Great Game: the first entry in the Forum is about Carl Powers shoes and botulinum toxin ... that’s the reason for food poisoning.  (Under the microscope)

Next time the website can be seen, is after Sherlock solved the second case and sends his congratulations regarding Ian Monford’s relocation to Columbia ...

And a third time when Sherlock has solved the murder of Conny Prince ...

There is no picture of Sherlock’s website connected to the fake Vermeer painting because this time Sherlock sends the solution not on his laptop but uses the pink phone dublicate instead (Yes, besides 2 Johns, 2 Faiths, 2 Charles, 2 serial killers, 2 empty houses, 2 flights of the dead, various pairs, doubles, twins ... etc, etc ... there are also 2 pink phones present in Sherlock BBC). Anyway, the Science of Deduction can be seen again when Sherlock suggests a meeting with the bomber at the same pool, where once little Carl died, to hand over the stolen missile defence plans ...

There’s no picture of Sherlock’s website in ASIB. The Science of Deduction turns up only in the two short but very interesting pieces of dialogue between John and Sherlock with which I started this post.

John utters the opinion that their clients come to Baker Street just because of his blog. Sherlock reminds him that he too has a website. John then mockingly mentions Sherlock’s analysis of 240 different types of tobacco ash on said website and adds ‘nobody is reading your website’. Sherlock is clearly offended and corrects the number of tobacco ashes from 240 to 243. Some time later John raises the tobacco-ash topic once more, proudly refers to his own blog - and the 1895 hits on it - and tells Sherlock ‘this is your living’.

The next visual presentation of the website can be seen in THOB, when Sherlock shows John the Inbox message of little Kirsty about her vanished, luminous rabbit Bluebell ...

In the same episode Sherlock tells Mrs Hudson that a ‘little blog on the identification of perfumes’ can be found on his website. It turns out that Sherlock hasn’t only extensive knowledge regarding ash, he also knows a lot about perfumes.  (Perfumes in Sherlock BBC by @gosherlocked ) 

The HOUND-episode is also the one in which Dr Frankland tells Sherlock: ’I know who you really are. I’m never off your website’. The Baskerville scientist knows John’s blog as well and is a bit confused that Sherlock isn’t wearing the deerstalker hat, as shown there.

The Science of Deductions turns up next in TRF, in an newspaper article about the recovery of Turner’s masterpiece, the ‘Falls of the Reichenbach’, that Sherlock was able to recover (last line on the left column).

Sherlock’s website is mentioned a last time in TSOT. Not on Sherlock’s laptop but on John’s phone. Mary suggests that John should go on a case with Sherlock. John opens The Science of Deduction on his own phone and asks Sherlock to pick a case from his already ‘bursting Inbox’. Sherlock chooses The Bloody Guardsman. Sadly it’s impossible to get a clear shot of the small mobile-screen. (John’s blog stops at TSOT by @gosherlocked)

THE LOOK

Blue is the main colour Sherlock has chosen for his website ... shades of different blue ... a dark midnight blue and the skyline of a city by night can be dimly seen in the background and - a little bit clearer - on both sides. 

As Sherlock Holmes is one of London’s most popular characters, it’s easy to assume that the skyline used for his website is that of GBs capital. With this in mind, the water in the bottom right corner, that can be seen rather good on the first pic above, should be the Thames and the shallow arch above it, most likely one of its many bridges. On the opposite site, in the upper left corner, next to the small, pale tower and right behind the ‘The’ of the website’s headline, the vast vault of Saint Paul’s Cathedral can be dimly seen (the view is better on a TV screen). 

If one connects the images of river and bridge on the left with St Paul’s on the right, I guess the background of Sherlock’s website could be a panorama photo similar to the one below. That’s a view from the Southbank of the Thames with Blackfriars Bridge in the foreground. And this location does play a role in the story ....

Blackfriars Bridge is located between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo Bridge. The name derives from Black Freres ... the French 'frère' meaning 'brother'. This referes to the black habits of the Dominican monks. A monk is also called a brother, a nun is also called a sister and the opposite of a ‘black brother’ would be a (ghostly) ‘white sister’. Just saying. :) 

(The Roads we walk   Vatican Cameos   A Christmas Tale)

As mentioned above, this particular cityscape plays a role in Sherlock BBC. It’s a crime scene from TGG. 

SHERLOCK: View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo.

At this place, Alex Woodbridge was found, the security guard and hobby stargazer, killed by the Golem, in the Vermeer case ... the same case which doesn’t turn up in the messages on Sherlock’s website because he uses the pink phone and conveys the solution verbally. Viewed metaphorically ... he speaks through the heart.

Blue is the colour of the sky ... high up, where the aeroplanes fly. Blue is also the colour of the water, deep down below ... where powerful emotions run freely and London is Sherlock’s city. The country, the city, the houses, even cars are closely linked to the famous detective. They seem to represent his ‘body’. 

Just put me back in London. I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in – feel every quiver of its beating heart.  (Sherlock, TEH)

Brother Mycroft IS government and ‘queen’ at the same time. There are all kinds of networks above and below ground and steam trains run behind fake facades. Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the river Thames are often special eye-catcher. The coat of arms ... with dragon, lion and Saint George’s cross ... make their appearance as well as the great fire of London in 1666, the Isle of Dogs and the Greenwich pips. ‘Transport’ goes from standstill to movement ....

666-The number of the beast   Every quiver of his beating heart   Saint Paul’s Cathedral   Still at the centre of the web   From standstill to movement 

WEBSITE ... A SITE FOR THE WEB

Sherlock has a website .... John has a blog. Why the difference? Both men, Sherlock and John, are given strongly internet-related nicknames ... Hat-man and Robin:The web detectives ... Sherlock & John: Blogger Detectives. Sherlock is also called ‘Net Tec’ and ‘net phenomenon’. What’s the difference between Blog and Website:

BLOG:  The word ‘blog’ is short for ‘weblog’ (web=net + log=logbook), jokingly broken into the phrase ‘we blog’. A blog is a discussion or informational website published on the World Wide Web consisting of discrete, often informal diary-style text entries. Posts are typically displayed in reverse chronological order, so that the most recent post appears first, at the top of the web page. 'Blog' and 'blogging' are now loosely used for content creation and sharing on social media, especially when the content is long-form and one creates and shares content on regular basis. (X)

WEBSITE:   The word website consists of web=net + site=place. Literally web-site means ‘a place in the net’. A website can be used in various fashions: a personal website, a corporate website for a company, a government website, an organization website, etc. Websites can be the work of an individual, a business or other organization, and are typically dedicated to a particular topic or purpose. All publicly accessible websites collectively constitute the World Wide Web. (X)

Of course, the word ‘web’ immediately reminds me of Jim Moriarty. The spider at the centre of a criminal web, woven with thousands of threads and Jim knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances. Sherlock is going to monitor the underworld in order to notice every quiver of that web, so he will notice when the spider makes his move. 

As mentioned above, all kinds of networks - above and below ground - play a major role in Sherlock BBC. There are Mycroft’s people, his agents and spies. There are terrorists who threaten London with a massive attack. General Shan has a vast network with thousands of operatives and Sherlock calls it ‘a cult’. A surveillance web is closing in on Baker Street, their attention focussed on Sherlock. An Underground network as well as an underground network runs below the surface of the big city. A secret cult of revenging birdes meets in the crypt of a desanctified church. Sherlock is convinced that the ‘world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What we call premonition is just movement of the web. If you could attenuate to every strand of quivering data, the future would be entirely calculable, as inevitable as mathematics’. So many threads - linked and interwoven - they create a web, a net .... a web-net. Basically, that’s exactly how brains work as well. Every brain is a very vast and highly functional biological network ... and Sherlock’s is faster than most ‘... still catching up with my brain. It’s terribly fast’.

Recent models in modern neuroscience treat the brain as a biological computer, very different in mechanism from an electronic computer, but similar in the sense that it acquires information from the surrounding world, stores it, and processes it in a variety of ways. Neurons typically communicate with one another by means of long fibers, which carry trains of signal pulses to distant parts of the brain or body. (X)

And then there's also Sherlock’s ‘own’ network ... the ‘homeless network’ it is called. According to Sherlock, it is ‘indispensible and faster than the police’. Those group of people is based on the Baker Street Irregulars from canon. There, in Victorian London, they are street boys, sometimes employed by Holmes to run errands for him. Holmes speaks of them as ‘division of the detecitve police force’. Dr Watson describes them as ‘little scoundrels’ and ‘half a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street Arabs that ever I clapped eyes on’. 

While the idea of homeless people who sometimes assist Sherlock in his cases is taken from canon, the name - homeless network - is not. Names are always important in this story. So basically, what is a homless network? It is a network that has no home. At times it is usefull for Sherlock and he pays them for their help. In a way this reminds me of Eurus. She says abut herself: 'to remember everything one just needs a big enough hard drive’. Her intellectual abilities are also of occasional use for the government. In return she requires treats. Similar to Sherlock’s homeless network, Eurus has no home either. She lost it long ago in her childhood days. Sherlock has a website ... a site, a place in the web ... but only very few people are interested in it. Actually just Jeff Hope and Dr Frankland as it seems. Sherlock has a homless network ... a network without a home. 

The women of the ‘cult’ from TAB first gave me the idea that all those dangerous groups ... agents, spies, terrorists and the various networks ... could actually be metaphors for something that happens inside Sherlock’s mind. That all those groups represent the awakening of emotional stirrings ... desires, fears, impulses ... that haunt the great detective. There seem to be aspects of Sherlock’s personality which he views as rightous criminal and puts them behind padded walls or elephant glass. Others are just annoying and distracting. Some he ignores most of the time because he considers them to be irrelevant for his system. Some have no home, although they turn out to be usefull now and then. Then something unexpected happens ... something new is coming ... and this marks the beginning of a change of perception in Sherlock Holmes, maybe a revolution.

The reptile in 221b   Underground networks    AGRA-Under the sign of four   Eurus, the emotional memory & The cold war by @raggedyblue

FOUR MESSAGES and a GAP 

Four messages can be read on Sherlock’s website. All of them are from TGG, related to four of the five cases, written by Sherlock and directed at ‘the bomber’. As it turns out at the end of the episode, this person is none other than Jim Moriarty, the spider in the centre of the web. 

FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989). Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.

Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia.

Raoul de Santos, the house-boy, botox.

xxx

Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect. The Pool. Midnight.

Only one of the cold cases is not mentioned on Sherlock’s website, because Sherlock uses the pink phone duplicate, sent to him by the bomber in a strong box at the beginning of the ‘great game’, to submit his message. Sometimes it is useful to ‘mind the gap’ as Sherlock says. Sometimes that, what is left out, is just as important as that, what is there. The ‘gap-case’ is the one about the fake Vermeer painting, whose forgery was first noticed by security guard and hobby stargazer Alex Woodbridge, murdered because of it by the Golem. His body was found at the Southbank of the Thames near Blackfriars Bridge ... the same location Sherlock uses as background for his website. Sherlock discovers and proves the truth due to the display of an impossible supernova on the painting. 

A picture pretends to show a scene from the past, but the massive explosion painted on it reveals, that the picture has actually been created much more recently. That massive explosion had never happened in the past.

The bomber’s hostage in the Vermeer case is a kid who is never shown on screen. The little boy transmittes a countdown from 10 to 1, that mirrors Sherlock’s own countdown in TFP (Countdown) while the boy’s plea for help mirrors that of the girl on the plane and also that of Victor Trevor, the boy in the well near Musgrave Hall. Victor Trevor and Musgrave Hall represent two canon stories -  The Adventure of the Gloria Scott and The Musgrave Ritual - both set in Sherlock Holmes’ university time, long before he met Dr Watson. Both cases lead back to a time ‘where Sherlock began’.

(Why Victor Trevor was turned into a child by @sagestreet)

THE HOUND & THE GUARDSMEN

Little Kirsty Stapleton’s cry for help in THOB to ‘please, please, please’ find Bluebell, her vanished, luminous rabbit, marks the beginning of the HOUND case. Chemistry, triggered by the pressure of feet, fills the air and drives everyone exposed to it, crazy. Love is in the air .... At the end Jim Moriarty (Mr Sex) walks free, released from his cell by Mycroft Holmes himself ... 

Private Stephen Bainbridge’s request in TSOT, regarding a mysterious stalker, marks the beginning of the GUARDSMEN case. Jonathan Small (literally: Jonny Little), a brilliant, ruthless monomaniac (who strongly reminds me of Jim Moriarty), stabbs guardians/facades with a ‘meat dagger’. At the end Mary Watson is pregnant ... ‘stabbed’ by ‘Johnny boy’ (Hamish=James) Watson ... the HOUND hidden behind the facade of the facade .... Matroshka ‘poppets’ indeed.

“Mary – lots of love ... poppet ... oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.”  (Telegram from Magnussen, keeper of the deepest and darkest secrets and scandals,TSOT)

THE BLUEBELL COMPANIONS

Alongside little Kirsty’s message about Bluebell there appear two more requests on the Inbox page of Sherlock’s website (they can be easily read on TV screen). In films neiter images and certainly not texts appear on screen out of coincidence. Pictures are there for certain reasons, even if it’s just for the purpose of a fitting decoration. Texts on the other hand are much more specific. Someone must have had the idea to put it there and someone had to create the image. Especially the makers of Sherlock BBC have repeatedly mentioned that everything that appears on screen has its meaning. With this in mind, what can be deduced about those two earlier requests in Sherlock’s Inbox?

1- Please help victims of China earthquake. It costs just 5p. 

China - right from the beginning a certain ‘easterly’ theme appears and runs from there throughout the whole story like a red ribbon until the moment the Eastwind finally approaches in the shape of Eurus. In a metaphorical reading I connect the East to emotions and memory. 

An earthquake is a sudden outburst of held back and bottled-up energie. When the pressure gets too high it results in a violent release of that energy. Explosions .... rocks crack, the earth shakes. Earthquakes can trigger landslides, volcanic activity or cause a tsunami. Major changes are also often referred to as ‘earthquakes’.

Costs of 5p ... A penny (p) is a coin and a unit of the britisch pound (£), the official currency in the UK (a currency Sherlock doesn’t know how to spend?). 5p is money. The saying goes that time is money. A minute is a unit of time. Viewing it in reversed order ... money is time = 5 penny are 5 minutes. ‘It took her (Eurus) just five minutes to do all of this to us.’

Reading it that way, a possible translation of the first request in Sherlock’s Inbox could be:  “Please help victims of emotional upheaval. It takes just 5 minutes.”  :)

2- Re. Mudchute Query

Mudchute is a railway station situated in the Millwall area on the Isle of Dogs. The name Millwall has its source in the large number of windmills built on the river wall in the 19th century. They were needed to ground corn and wheat into flour that was brought along the Thames. The original station was located on an old Victorian railway line that had been disused for many years. An elevated station opened 1987. When the line was extended under the Thames, the station was rebuilt close to the tunnel entrance. It opened 1999 and was finally completed 2009. The station was originally intended to be named Millwall Park but then renamed in Mudchute, refering to the engineering overspill when Millwall Dock was being created in the 1840s. (X)

Basically ... the second request in Sherlock’s Inbox is about a query regarding a railway station, built in the Victorian area at a place linked to mills (♪ Remember the maid ... the maid of the mill ...♪, TAB), disused for years, rebuilt and elevated, named, renamed ... until it was completed in 2009, the same year the Unaired Pilot was created. Well .... that sounds a bit ... familiar?

PERFUME AND TOBACCO ASHES

Appart from Sherlock’s cold case messages addressed to Jim Moriarty and two requests from - Kirsty Stapleton and Stephen Bainbridge - there are only two other entries on The Science of Deduction ... Sherlock’s own analysis about perfumes and tobacco ashes. Basically that’s about ... scent/smell and fire residues.

SCENT:  From Kasbah Nights to Claire de la Lune, perfumes play a significant role in this story and Sherlock is a true expert in smellig and recognizing the different brands. The first thing that comes to mind, related to the word ‘scent’ is a dog - more precisely a scent dog. One of the most prominent representatives of that breed is the Bloodhound. And it is well known that Sherlock Holmes is indeed compared to a blood hound in ACDs The Sign of Four. That same quote has been adopted in TEH (Sherlock the Bloodhound), it appears on John’s Blog and is read by Mary. But in Sherlock BBC the bloodhound isn’t only linked to Sherlock himself. The HOUND is also connected to John Watson, Jim Moriarty, Victor Trevor, Eurus and Redbeard the Irish Setter, also a scent dog.  

(The dogs in Sherlock’s mind palace  The bloodhound in his hands   Transformation of Redbeard  and the ‘Follow the dog’ series by @sagestreet​)

FIRE RESIDUES:  Sherlock has an extensive knowledge regarding tobacco ashes. This characteristic has also been taken from canon.

I have made a special study of cigar ashes—in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco.  (ACD, A Study in Scarlet)

In TSOT drunken Sherlock proclaims loudly ‘Ash! I know ash!’  Almost the same words (‘I know human ash’) uses the guy from ASIB, whose aunt had been among the plane crash victims in Düsseldorf (’Sherlock Holmes baffled’). In the same episode Sherlock steals an ashtray from Buckingham Palace. In TEH Sherlock’s return from hiatus is underlined with at least half a dozen scetches of phoenixes, rising from the ashes, at the walls of the Landmark Restaurant. Another bird that has great resemblance with a phoenix can be found on Brenda’s gravestone at Musgrave Hall  (Among the funny gravestones).

Ash is the residue of a fire damage. Fire and burning is one of the main themes in Sherlock BBC. From Jim’s threat to burn Sherlock’s heart out to the gingerbread man burned to a crisp, from John’s Guy Fawkes bonfire to Sherlock’s admission ‘I’m burning up’, from the Baker Street living room in flames to the great fire at Musgrave Hall ... not to mention all the exploding or not quite expoding bombs throughout the show ... fire anf burning is never far away in this story.  

(Love is a burning thing   A case ablaze   Set this house on fire by @gosherlocked)

TOBACCO ASHES ... CHEMISTRY BURNED

Tobacco s the common name for plants belonging to the Nicotiana family. It contains the highly addictive stimulant nicotine. The dried leaves of the plant are mainly used for smoking in cigars, cigarettes, pipes, etc ... Nicotine is a widely used legal drug. The burning of tobacco results in smoke and the residue left behind is ash. Sherlock knows ash. Interestingly and unlike to canon, in this modern adaptation Sherlock doesn’t simply know ‘any known brand of cigar or tobacco ash’, he has analysed exactly 243 different types of those ashes and he explicitly corrects the number 240, cited by John. Is this seemingly unimportant correction just there to emphasise Sherlock’s annoyance over John’s mockery or is maybe another meaning hidden behind that corrected number?

243 ... ‘This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash’ - ‘243!′

243 different types of tobacco ash are not Sherlock’s living. 243 different, tobacco products - burnt to ashes - are not Sherlock’s life.

As mentioned above, tobacco contains nicotine and nicotine is a drug. Viewing Sherlock BBC on a metaphorical level ... all drugs are chemistry and chemistry is love. The chemistry of love, burnt to ashes ... 243 times over. Hmmmm ....  Then an idea hit me and I asked Google a question:

This answer is from January 2020. The first official series of Sherlock BBC aired 2010 and the Unaired Pilot has been produced in 2009. I seem to recall that the first and the second series have been accepted by the BBC at the same time and since 2009 several more Sherlock Holmes adaptations have seen the light of day (Guy Ritchie Holmes, Elementary, New Russian Holmes, Miss Sherlock, Mr Holmes, Sherlock Gnomes, Holmes&Watson, Enola Holmes ... to name just a few). 

Could it be that the number of different tobacco ashes, analysed by Sherlock, mirrors the number of different adaptations about the famous detective? Sherlock Holmes ... reborn again and again with each adaptation, like a phoenix from the ashes, and yet he was never able to live a full life ... including emotions, love and sex?

‘All lives end. All hearts are broken’, that’s what Mycroft tells Sherlock in ASIB. Chemistry burned to ashes in an endless row. ‘So many days not lived, so many words unsaid’ ... says Eurus in TFP and referes to the coffin whose lid is adorned with a brass plate, I LOVE YOU, written on it  (A coffin for love). You are absolutely right  @loveismyrevolution with your idea of Sherlock standing between two ‘angels’ in that scene, although I would rather call them ‘choices’. Because this scene has great resemblance with the three solutions/choices Sherlock has to choose from after the event on Barth’s roof  (Solutions or choices). 

At that time Sherlock is confronted with two elemental forces ... love and sex. The one is represented by Molly (mirror for John) and the other one by Jim Moriarty, Mr Sex. Sherlock chooses neither one of the two. He backs away and walks a third path. He decides to live a celibate life - married to work - solely dedicated to reason and intellect, represented by Mycroft. That’s why he needs to create a strong facade to hide his true feelings for John. But then, unexpected and without noticing it at first (delayed action stabbing), even this facade gets ‘penetrated’ by John. Love (Rosie) is conceived and this changes everything. (Changing of the guard)

After the first shock (shot), Sherlock starts to go deeper into himself than ever before. He repeats the investigations about himself (the pink case) from a different perspective. Everything that happens in S4 reflects, in one way or another, occurances from S1-S3 ... arranged differently and some new actors are added. For example: the morgue-scene in TLD is a mirror of Sherlock’s fall in TRF ... it’s another Reichenbach. Eurus’ five tasks of Sherrinford seem to be a sort of ‘final distillate’ of Sherlock’s repeated analysis. In the coffin-scene Sherlock is once more confronted with a choice. This time though SEX is excluded. Sherlock has to choose between LOVE or BRAIN. And just as he did after the ‘first’ Reichenbach, Sherlock tries again to back away. At that stage though Eurus doesn’t let him. Sherlock’s emotions force him to go back to the very beginning, to find the truth. What that truth is and what consequences will come from it .... is still untold in this story, as I read it. There’s a final distillation but not a final solution at the end of S4.

“This is your living, Sherlock ... not 243 different types of tobacco ash” 

... says John, refering to his own Blog. But is this really the truth? The counter on John’s Blog stops at 1895 in ASIB and the text entry, read by Mary in TEH, is a quote from canon. Already in the first series, in TBB, Sherlock asks John - his blogger/biographer - to pass him the pen and near the end of S4, in TLD, John’s Blog has ‘gone a bit downhill’ and people actually think it's Sherlock’s Blog. This leaves the question: is Sherlock taking over the narrative of his own story now? What kind of story will it be? How will it end? Will Sherlock have to make a third choice in the future? A choice between Dr Watson, the ‘fixed point in a changing age’ and John Watson, who could be so much more than just an ‘eternal’ friend? After all, there are two Faiths in the story, two serial killers and Hamish (Jim, Mr Sex) hides right in the middle of John (H) Watson ... at the very centre of the web, one might say. 

Two times John    Pairs-Twins-DoubleOHs   Double OH seven Bond Air is go   The big question   and an excellent explanation of the idea about ‘Two-John’s’ in the comments on this post by @lukessense

Will Sherlock BBC turn out to be one more adaptation that ends as a ‘missed oportunity’ ... one more chemistry burned to ashes .... another sample of tobacco ash for Sherlock to analyse and add to his list? Or will it be different this time? Something new ... something big? Will it be the story about the emotional and sexual awakening of the literary character Sherlock Holmes? 

Only the future will tell ....

Thanks for reading and thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

February, 2021