#but like written in a way that doesn’t think of either parent as worse or weird shit like that

[fishyartist]

Tumblrina 2 me btw. Would ride up and say some shit like “I’m not trans but I believe in their beliefs” or maybe say some shit about leaving to “steal some shoelaces” then kicking Joe Biden in the sack or something

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 4

Part 3

Request from @gojodeluluwifeu

Yuuji Itadori slowly awoke. With only the flames of several candles to illuminate this prison-like room with paper seals, he almost felt like a doomed protagonist in a horror movie. For better or worse, he had a companion sitting across from him.

Satoru Gojo wore a nonchalant, expectant grin. “Yo.”

“You are… !” The memories of the monster attack hit him like a train and he fussed around in his seat, soon realizing that his arms were bound behind him. He whipped his head towards Gojo. “Where is my sister? What happened to my friends? Are they still alive–”

“Hm, you’re not really in a position to be worrying about other people. Actually, you know what, I guess we should talk about your sister. Though I already know she’s just a neighbor.”

“Huh?”

Gojo pulled out a tablet and opened a file for Yuuji to see. At first glance it appeared to be your resume, as it had a 2x2 ID photo of you in formal wear and your basic information written right next to the image, but the more Yuuji read, he realized that it was far more terrifying than a simple resume. 

Gojo used his finger to scroll down the document, which had to be around fifty pages at least. “Age, birth place, height and weight… even her three measurements are here.”

Yuuji stomped his feet. “Why do you–”

Gojo turned the tablet around and began to read, “No clubs or extracurriculars. All her grades are either slightly below or slightly above the school average. Only two instances of getting called to office, once in middle school, and again in high school, both times were because teachers suspected that she was being bullied, but both times she told the adults involved ‘not to worry’ and that she ‘just doesn’t like socializing.’ 

Other notes from previous teachers were similar: ‘That kid was always quiet, never caused trouble,’ ‘She doesn’t seem to be hated but no one ever approaches her… she doesn’t approach anyone either,’ ‘I don’t know if she’s shy or maybe she really likes her space, either way, she won’t go far in life if she keeps to herself like this,’ ‘She never skipped class, though whenever she called in to say that she couldn’t come it was due to a family emergency,’ hm…

Her classmates and former employers didn’t have much to say about her, too. They kept using the same words: ‘keeps to herself,’ ‘doesn’t cause trouble but doesn’t talk either,’ ‘I don’t remember much about her,’ uwah–there is even a detailed calendar here full of her class and work schedules. Let’s see… apparently she missed school whenever you or your grandfather were sick or hospitalized. Same thing with her part-time jobs.” 

Gojo read on, nodding his head.

“Ichiji is surprisingly talented at this. It’s almost creepy.”

“Wait! What’s going on? Why do you have records on Y/N-nee?!”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“???”

“According to the other people in your neighborhood, you’re not blood-related and she’s not even your step-sister or adoptive sister, she’s literally just the girl from next door. And you’ve heard the things other people have to say about her, there is nothing special about that person. If anything, she has to be one of the most boring people I know.”

“Don’t insult her! S-sure she’s quiet and doesn’t like interacting beyond the bare minimum, but towards me she’s kind and selfless and even a bit overprotective! She’s not perfect but she’s not boring or average or horrible!”

“... Do you know what happened to her parents?”

If he were thinking more clearly, Yuuji would’ve kept his mouth shut but he was furious and couldn’t help himself. “They’re abroad. They send money regularly but Nee-chan has always been alone in that house. That’s why grandpa and I let her sleep over sometimes. She’s always been…alone.” Wait. Yuuji scrunched his eyebrows. Alone? That can’t be right.

“‘They’re abroad,’ is what she said to you.”

“That’s right.”

“Itadori, there are no records of her parents ever leaving the country.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Grandpa said that she told us that the first day we met her.”

“Hm. Itadori-kun, do you recall the date that you moved in with your grandfather?”

Yuuji didn’t remember much about his childhood before his grandfather, the two of them have always been together for as long as he could remember. It was the same with you. Always together…

Gojo showed him a page from the tablet. It was an affidavit of ownership. “Before that, let me ask you, do you know whose house your ‘sister’ used to live in? The one next to your grandfather’s.” 

“What kind of question is that? Obviously it belonged to her–her parents, of course. That’s her last name.” 

“This house belongs to a family with the last name L/N. But look here.” Gojo scrolled down and showed a picture of a family of five. There was a father, a mother, two young boys in middle school, a boy no older than two, and a dog. “This photo was taken back in 2003, a year before your birthday. They’re the only family members who lived in that house.”

“So? She’s probably a distant relative.”

Gojo shook his head. “We actually asked the other neighbors. Everyone also believes that she’s some cousin from the province. But it’s strange that you all believed that she belonged to that family when no one should be living there in the first place.”

“You just said that that family owned it.”

“Yup, you’re right, they owned that house.”

Yuuji blinked. What?

“I hope you have a tough stomach.” Gojo scrolled down. 

Yuuji’s stomach stirred and he bent over as far as his bondage would allow him. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. He refused to look up, the image of those poor parents hugging their children will forever be burned in his memory. “Why are you showing me this?”

“This L/N family was brutally murdered on the night of **** **, ****.”

“That… that’s…

“That’s the same date your grandfather took you in, isn’t it?”

Yuuji doesn’t remember it himself, but his grandfather told him once and you often mentioned that date when you brought up his toddler days. 

He reluctantly opened his mouth. “Did… did she…” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t even think about it. Memories of you smiling, laughing, taking care of him and grandpa, and welcoming him home flooded Yuuji’s senses. 

“Ah,” Gojo interrupted, “she didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Eh?”

“The doggie bit one of the burglars. Hard. And she bit him in the *ahem* boxers. He and his partner were caught almost immediately.” Gojo showed him the mug shots.

Yuuji: ??????

“She had nothing to do with this murder, but after the funeral, the house was bought immediately. After further investigation, we discovered that it was bought under a fake name. She was a child when the land was purchased, but it couldn’t have been her parents, and there are no signs of other people having lived there other than her. Not to mention, the whole neighborhood bought into her lie that she was a visiting cousin. Isn’t that odd?”

Odd? Major understatement. There were many holes. Number one thing was that no one seemed to remember the murders. Even if it was fifteen years ago, Yuuji would’ve heard of it, if not for his grandfather then from the other kids. Children love horror stories after all. And yet…

“You’re telling me that…Nee-chan has been sleeping, eating and bathing in a murder house?”

“Well, I assure you, there are no curses or ghosts in that area. Luckily, the family passed on without any grudges, perhaps because they were with each other when they died? Anyway, normal humans have no way of knowing that the house is clean. Usually, unless you’re dirt poor or an idiot, you would never even consider living in a potentially haunted house.”

“That’s…!” Yuuji stopped himself. “Wait. What did you mean earlier that her parents couldn’t have possibly bought the house?”

Gojo tilted his head. “Because they’re dead.”

He presented an old newspaper article. It was dated a few weeks before the family’s death. The headline read: COUPLE FOUND DEAD IN THEIR OWN HOME, ***-OLD DAUGHTER NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.

“The bodies were described as having been ‘torn apart from the inside,’ but there were no weapons that fit the wounds. There was only a large puddle of water soaking the corpses… ‘Based on testimonies from neighbors, the couple were suspected of abusing their daughter, whose current whereabouts remain unknown. It is likely that she has been kidnapped.’” Gojo glanced at him. “You get it, right? The couple mentioned here are Y/N’s birth parents. They lived in a rural area with a town population of less than 5000. They don’t even have a convenience store–or a mall. Ouch.”

Gojo looked at Yuuji. “The murder itself was brutal but it never reached national news. Still, a lot of things don’t add up.”

“...I-if they’re dead then…” then why did you act like they were still alive and well? How could you smile and walk around as if everything was fine?

“Well, anyway, those things are minor.”

“Hah?!” Minor?!

“The crux of the matter is this: you ate a finger of a cursed spirit known as Ryomen Sukuna, and he called Y/N his wife. Not to mention, just before passing out, she called you her child.”

“...!”

“From what I can tell, Sukuna seems to treasure her a lot, and yet there is nothing about her background that points to her being any more special than the average Jane. What are you? And what is your relationship with that woman?”

Yuuji gritted his teeth. ‘That woman’ was his precious older sister, who took care of him when Grandpa was at work, who cleaned up his wounds when he got hurt playing, who loved him so much she couldn’t stand by as a monster attacked him.

“She…”

***

Over a decade ago, in a tiny house by the foot of a mountain, you watched as gigantic icicles–bigger than yourself–tear through your mother. She was arguing with your father, who was now on the floor, gasping and clutching at his chest. He too had large pieces of jagged ice pierced all over him. 

When he caught you in the corner, a wry grin made its way to his face, that was the only time you ever saw a semblance of a smile from him. He reached out his arm towards you. “H-hurry up, c…call s-s-someone–ARGH!” 

The hand reaching out to you was cut by a blade of ice. 

He squirmed and screamed before another cold knife cut his face in half. The kitchen fell silent. 

At that time, did you feel afraid? Did you feel sad? You couldn’t remember.

“This servant deeply apologizes for being so late.” A handsome woman, or maybe they were a pretty man, stepped out of the shadows and walked towards you. 

The doll-like person with snow white skin and wearing traditional clothes knelt down. They offered you a small smile. “I offer my greetings to the madam.”

“...are you… going to kill me, too?”

He shook his head. “This servant would never.”

“Then…” 

“I came here to ensure that you were living peacefully until the lord’s return, but regretfully, even in this life you are treated like this. I tried to make them suffer before dying, but my temper has gotten the best of me. This servant apologizes.”

The person said things you didn’t understand, but you at least knew this much: they weren’t going to hurt you. 

“My lady, I’m afraid you can’t live here anymore.”

The beautiful, doll-like creature that introduced themselves as “Uraume” packed what few materials that belonged to you and led you away. Their skin was colder than the air of a fridge, yet you never felt more safe and warm than when they held your hand on the way to your new abode.

“Uraume-san–”

“Please just call me ‘Uraume,’ my lady, this servant doesn’t dare to be referred to in any other way.”

“R-right. Uraume, you said that I will be living in a different neighborhood.”

“Yes. I handled everything. Though humans have evolved into being more efficient, the paperwork was too much.”

“Will I be living alone?”

They gave you a sad smile. “It would be the highest honor to wait on the lady, but I still have much to prepare for Sukuna-sama’s arrival.”

“Sukuna…sama?”

“He has never tired of searching for you, I’m sure he will be very happy to know that you are now safe and well.”

“Does that mean… that he cares for me?”

Their eyes seemed to sparkle. “Such words are too light to describe the weight of his feelings. Sukuna-sama has devoted every part of himself to you. When you died, he never remarried, and when other sorcerers or village chiefs offered him brides, he would slaughter them all without hesitation. He was especially mad when the women looked like you in any way, be it height, skin color or hair color. This servant personally put their severed heads on poles to be displayed for all to see as a warning. One time, he…”

You didn’t really get it. This person spouted out a lot of information that you didn’t grasp, like a hardcore fan talking about their idol to a normie. 

They seemed to be having fun so you let them talk the entire trip to your new house. 

“Do you like it, madam?” Uraume asked as you examined the residence from outside. “It’s small, but putting you in an apartment complex was out of the question. It would’ve been nice if we got you a mansion but the people I spoke to claimed that only this house was available. Unbelievable, Sukuna-sama would never have tolerated this–”

“I like it.”

“Hm?”

You turned to Uraume and smiled. “I like it, Uraume. Thank you for your efforts.”

Uraume blinked. Then they slowly covered their mouth. “M-my lady, your smile is as radiant as I remember.”

“Are you crying?”

“This servant will go and organize everything so please relax as much as you like!” They then dashed inside.

What an odd person, you thought. But you didn’t want to go inside just yet, not because you were afraid of potential ghosts. Uraume explained the truth about the house before the drive here, and they didn’t seem bothered with it so why should you? 

However, the house was still full of movers carrying furniture and whatnot, and you’d rather avoid people. 

As you thought about where to pass time, something tugged the hem of your dress.

“Fwah…”

You glanced down and found a toddler pulling on your skirt. “Huh? Go away.”

“Mm?” The baby raised his head and met your eyes, and time stopped.

Your head felt heavy and everything around the toddler turned blurry. 

“Yuu…ji?” 

Huh? Did you say something just now? 

“There you are, Yuuji! You almost gave me a heart attack. I’m pretty sure I locked the door, how do you keep escaping?” An old man came over and picked up the child from the ground. “What on Earth am I going to do with you…hm?”

The old man finally noticed you. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

You kept your eyes on the child, who was clapping his hands. “I…I just moved in.”

“Moved in? Where? Oh.” He scratched his stubble when he realized it. “That’s unfortunate.”

You stared at the baby in his arms. Its cheeks were so chubby. You wanted to pinch them until he cried. 

“It’s not my place to say this but… maybe you and your family would be better off going someplace else…” The man whispered.

“What do you mean?” You finally looked away from the toddler.

He sighed. “It’s complicated, but since your parents bought the land they probably already know. It’s a pity. This little one and I will be moving out soon and you could’ve gotten our house instead.”

“Moving out?”

“It’s nothing a kid like you should concern yourself with. Let’s just say that after everything, it’d be bad luck to stay here, right, Yuuji?”

“Ehehe,” the baby garbled out a laugh, making a spit bubble. 

“You can’t leave…” 

“What’s that?” The man turned to you.

You gazed deep into his eyes and repeated, “You can’t leave.”

“We have to, little miss. It’s the best thing for us. I’m not sentimental but I don’t believe in tempting fate. I don’t know if you’re aware but living in this street feels wrong after the mur–ahem, after the incident.”

“What incident?”

“Like I said, you’re too young–”

“There wasn’t any incident.”

“What’re you talking about? Ah, I guess your parents didn’t tell you, after all.”

“There wasn’t any incident,” you said again, never breaking eye contact. “Nothing happened, everything is fine. You’re not going anywhere.”

Your mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your mind was muddied. 

The old man stared back at you, unblinking and silent for a whole minute, before his lips moved, “I haven’t seen you before.”

“No. I just moved in with the L/N’s.” You pointed at your new house. 

“Ah, I see. Are you a visiting cousin or something?”

“Yes. My parents are working abroad so my aunt and uncle decided to take me in.”

“Aha, I see. They’re good people, your aunt and uncle, though their sons are a bit rowdy.”

“Yes, they are.” You turned to the baby who was now looking at you with curious eyes.

The old man noticed and proceeded to introduce himself and the kid. “I’m your neighbor, Wasuke Itadori, and this one’s named Yuuji. His parents are… not here, so I’m in charge of him.”

The baby beamed before reaching out his fat sausage arm towards you.

You offered him a finger and he grabbed it tightly as he giggled.

“Nice to meet you. My name is…”

You opened your eyes, a bit groggy from a dream you could no longer remember. 

“Finally awake?” A woman asked. She had long brown hair and wore a lab coat. A doctor. “Hello, I’m Shoko Ieiri. Do you remember who you are?”

You rose to a sitting position, but didn’t answer. 

“Do you know today’s date?”

You stared at her. “Where is Yuuji?”

“Hm… how do you know that name?”

“Yuuji is my neighbor but we’re more like family. Where is he?”

“He was right…” Shoko murmured as she wrote something on her clipboard. When she noticed you glaring, she put it away and grinned. “Don’t worry, he’s indisposed but otherwise in good health. You’ll be able to meet up with him in a few minutes. We need to focus on your condition right now.”

“I’m perfectly healthy.” You raised your arms in an attempt to show how fine you were. “Nothing hurts and I remember my own name and the date today. Please let me see him.” 

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed and she excused herself.

As she stepped out to answer the call, you stared at your hands as they pulled on your blanket. 

“Yuuji…”

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumanii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @boba–12 @certainduckanchor @langweile @amitiel-truth @qualityprincessrunaway @thatoneweirdgirl17 @lilith-snape

A/N: This took longer than expected. But anyway, happy human holidays, everyone! Comments are always appreciated.

[lilgarbitch]

Running in Circles- Seven

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: angst, drinking, Y/N being a cute little dumbass

Word Count: 9.5k

Author’s Note: as quoted from a recent post: i fear my desire to make men miserable is playing a large role in my work and i do apologize for that. Also…I promise Will and Y/N are just friends…👀

(Author’s Note Pt. 2: Taking a break from posting for a minute so I can revise the old chapters as I’ve been getting some input that some things aren’t that great🖤 Will update soon)

Part Six

Noah

“YOU WHAT?” Ruffilo shouted from across the room at me as he stood up in disbelief. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, pulling at my roots. 

“I don’t know why I did it.. I just. I had to do something to make myself feel better about the situation,” I said, shaking my head, my voice strained with stress. 

“When I said to find your own way to get back at her, I didn’t fucking mean that, you dumbass!” He was now pacing, like he was the one who fucked up. Maybe I shouldn’t have come to him about this.

“I know. I just..,” I let out a deep sigh, falling back on the couch, “Maybe I did it to hurt her, or maybe I did it to hurt myself. I don’t know. I just couldn’t take this shit anymore.”

“Dude! You spent YEARS talking about this girl. You’ve written fucking songs about her. You get into one fight, and do this?” He finally stopped and stared at me, waiting for me to come up with a better explanation, but I couldn’t. Because I didn’t have one. 

Footsteps creep into the living room, so I look up and see Jolly looking at us, confused. 

“What’s all the yelling about?” he asked, looking between the two of us. I just anxiously chewed on my lip, so Ruffilo answered for me. 

“This jackass decided to hook up with someone at his fucking birthday party.” He put a hand on his hip like a disappointed parent, waiting for Jolly to give any reaction. I turn to Jolly and he’s giving me a look, a mix of shock, confusion, and disappointment. I let out a groan, getting up and walking to my room. I don’t need this. I had hoped Ruffilo could give me any advice for this absolute fuck-up I made, but I should’ve known I would just get scolded. 

I fall onto my bed and shove my face into my pillow, letting out a groan. I don’t fucking know why I did it. I was pissed off at how close she’s gotten with Matt. And when random friend of one of the guys was chatting with me and I looked over and saw that fucking Ghost Face grinding against Davis, I just lost it. I don’t know why sleeping with a random girl was my decision, especially when it won’t even affect Y/N if she never finds out, it was just the only thing my irrational brain could think of. Maybe I did it hoping it would help me get over her, but it just made me feel so much worse. I know we’ve been ignoring each other, but she’s acting like she doesn’t even fucking care about me anymore. So, I thought that maybe I shouldn’t care either, but obviously, everyone thought that was the stupidest thing I could do. 

I hear the rest of the guys get back from the store, hearing cheers as they probably showed everyone the food and alcohol they got, and all I could do was groan. This break was supposed to be fun. The party was supposed to be fun. I was hoping to take Y/N on a date or two, showing her my favorite places in the city. But no. She showed up for the party, ignored me the whole time, and was nowhere to be found when I came back..after making that terrible decision. Fuck. Why the fuck did it have to work out this way? Why’d I yell at her at the bar? If we could just sit down and talk, maybe we could at least be friends. I can’t stand finally having her in my life yet she just fucking ignores me. Fuck, I need a fucking distraction.

I stood up from my bed and headed downstairs, trying my best to sneak by so no one would notice me. I reach the kitchen and grab a random bottle we had on top of the fridge, before sneaking back to my room. Locking the door behind me, I go to sit on my bed and grab my phone, connecting it to my speakers before opening Spotify and clicking a random playlist. 

Turning the volume up full blast, I twist off the cap of what I now see is a bottle of fucking vodka. Grimacing, I lift it to my lips and take a large swig before setting it down on my nightstand, making a disgusted face at the taste and burn. 

My thoughts were brought back to the first night of tour, drinking with the group and watching her from across the bus. She took a shot of vodka and made the same face before catching me watching her and giving me the most beautiful smile. 

A growl erupts in my throat. I need to get her out of my fucking head. How am I even going to look at her when tour starts again if I can’t even handle thinking of her?

I grab the bottle again and take an even larger drink, leaning against the wall behind my bed as I felt the liquid fire fill my gut. Distraction. I need another fucking distraction. Because this isn’t hitting me fast enough and the music isn’t overpowering my thoughts. 

I open my phone and pull up Instagram, hoping to find absolutely fucking anything that pulls me from these thoughts. I scroll and scroll, every meme trying to be funny, and every picture of someone looking happy just pissing me off. 

I keep scrolling before my eyes land on tattoos. Her’s. I pause and see that State of the Scene had posted a photo of her in a sound booth. My eyes trail down to the caption. “Lorna Shore’s Will Ramos posts Praising Deities’ Y/N Y/L/N, calling her the ‘next deathcore vocalist’ and that he ‘can’t wait for y’all to hear what she can do.’ Let’s hope she releases something new soon, as fans have been enjoying her covers of ‘To the Hellfire’ and ‘Sun//Eater,’ sung on her current tour with the band Bad Omens.”

All it took was one comment. A single fucking comment to push me over the edge.

“Are those hickeys on her neck?” 

Before I could even think, a yell came spewing out as I threw my phone across the room, creating a loud band and a small crack as it shattered against the wall.

Tears came pouring down my face, now being unable to hold back every emotion that I’ve felt the past few weeks. I took one last swig of the vodka before setting it on my nightstand and lying down, pulling my covers over me. ‘Love Me to Death’ by Suicide Silence blasted through my speakers, proving that my phone wasn’t completely destroyed, but now I couldn’t fucking change it.

She has every fucking right to move on. I fucking did, too. But to get that confirmation that after barely a month of finally having her in my life, she’s fucking gone. I just couldn’t take it anymore. My chest ached and burned. All I wanted to do was scream until the pain was gone. I wanted her. I needed her. How did my life turn into such a fucking train-wreck so fast?

Suddenly, someone knocks on my door. They try to say something, but between my sobs and the music, I don’t know what. 

“FUCK OFF,” was all I said before shoving my head under my pillow, ignoring the rest of the world as I prayed for the alcohol to hit more and clear my mind.

Y/N

The other guys left after listening to my isolated screams, commenting on a few, and giving me a few ‘good lucks’ before going about their day. I made sure to thank Dave for letting me use his studio, and he said that it was here for me anytime. I doubt I’ll ever take him up on that offer, as I was still extremely intimidated by him, but I really appreciated it. 

Will and I were now just messing around in the studio. We already spent a good hour or so working on how I could get certain screams and growls to sound better and how I could enunciate words differently if that’s what I enjoyed. Now, we were just playing music and singing along as we occasionally went back and forth in the sound booth, wanting to see if we could hit notes right. Every recording we took was just full of giggles, so thankfully we were already planning to delete them right after listening.

He even taught me a few controls, mainly how to set songs up for him, make them only play for the person in the booth, and which button let me talk to him. We learned more about each other’s music tastes and where it came from, even who we took inspiration from for our own music. I learned more about his love for Sleep Token, which went a lot deeper than I thought. He went on a few rambles just talking about his appreciation for how they write the music and even played songs, pointing out specific things Vessel did in his vocals. 

He kept playing ‘Chokehold’ over and over, to the point that I practically learned the whole song. After about the tenth full run-through, not counting the amount of times he went back and repeatedly played specific parts because he just couldn’t get over the sound, I stood up and walked to the sound booth. 

I was getting more used to being in here now and definitely more used to singing in front of Will. We’d been in this studio for hours at this point, just singing to each other, so all my nerves were gone. 

He watched me as I walked and immediately sat up and leaned over the controls, a little confused. 

“Play it again, I wanna try,” I told him through the mic as I put the headphones on. 

“Chokehold? You wanna sing Chokehold? You literally just fucking heard it,” He said, laughing. 

“I heard it like 30 times and you even gave me a rundown of every single quirk in his vocals, now run it,” I teased. He playfully lifted his hands in defense before getting everything set up. 

The intro started playing so I held the headphones close to my ears and counted the beats in my head, not wanting to miss the cues.

When we were made

I did my best to make it airy and hold the same enunciation as Vessel did. 

It was no accident 

It was honestly so entertaining to practice Sleep Token songs. Vessel put so much character into every single note and to reenact it was so fun. Especially switching between chest voice and head voice or adding the little ‘t’ at the end of a line.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

Over-exaggerating certain parts was new to me unless I was singing along to a more pop punk song, where everyone had a specific accent they used. 

I come as a blade

I did my best to flow into a high note, and I did surprisingly well, so I turned to Will with a proud look on my face before continuing.

A sacred guardian 

Will was watching me in awe, and I so badly wanted to laugh at the face he made, but I had to keep my composure to continue. 

So you keep me sharp and test my worth in blood

It looked like Will was slowly falling into deep thought, but I knew it was still recording, so I just ignored him and continued. 

You’ve got me in a chokehold

I did my best to remember how Vessel did the audible breaths and tried to recreate them. 

You’ve got me in a chokehold

You’ve got me in a-

I look back over to see if Will was doing his famous dance to this part like he had every other replay of this song, but instead, he stood up and paused the music, and started messing around with more controls. 

“Will? Did I do something wrong?” I asked, and he just shook his head as he did whatever the hell he was trying to do. 

Finally, he stopped touching buttons, and the music started again, and he was rushing into the sound booth with me. He hurriedly came over and grabbed the other set of headphones lying in here, putting them on and turning to me with a child-like smile. 

“Roll with it,” He said, so I nodded and began to sing. 

When we were made

Woah, he finally turned on the control so I could hear myself.

It was no accident 

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

Then, Will joined in with me.

I come as a blade

I looked at him, shocked. We sounded so fucking good. He went lower as I took the high note at the end, nailing it once again.

A sacred guardian 

So you keep me sharp and test my worth in blood

He looked at me and put a hand on my shoulder, and I took that as a signal for me to let him sing the following lines.

You’ve got me in a chokehold

You’ve got me in a chokehold

He patted my shoulder, and I assumed that as him saying to join him.

You’ve got me in a-

He started headbanging to the music and I looked at him like we just did the craziest thing, because, to me, we fucking did. I had to hold back my giggles as he jammed out next to me. The next lines were about to come up, so he composed himself and put a hand on my shoulder, this now being our signal for him to sing.

Beneath the stormy seas

Above the mountain peaks

It’s all the same to me

It makes no difference 

He patted my shoulder, so I joined in.

I’ve seen my days unfold

Done the impossible 

I’d turn my walls to gold

To bring you home again

He stepped back from the mic, so it was just me singing the next few lines.

So show me that which I cannot see

Even if it hurts me

Even if I can’t sleep

Oh, and though we

Act out of our holy

Duty to be constantly awake

I did my best to hit the last notes, and then felt a tap on my shoulder.

You’ve got me in a chokehold

He started doing a fry scream and it sounded so good.

You’ve got me in a chokehold

He patted my shoulder once again, and I had to quickly think of the best route of action to make our vocals sound good together, but just landed on continuing to do clean, alto vocals.

You’ve got me in a chokehold

You’ve got me in a chokehold

He switched back to his clean vocals for the ending.

Even if it hurts me

Even if I can’t sleep

Show me the way

We held out the last note together, him not trying to create harmony, just matching our vocals so they meshed together. 

We looked at each other in shock as the song ended before rushing out of the sound booth and over to the control board. We listened back to our isolated vocals in disbelief. The fact that we just threw this together last second was unbelievable. 

We listened to it a few times, talking about what could be fixed or edited, both of us individually running to the sound booth multiple times to sing our parts so we could edit them together. We even did some lines differently, seeing if more harmony or if me doing harsh vocals would sound better. 

After recording probably too many pieces, he switched over all the vocals to his laptop, and we started working them together. Finally, we added the instrumental over top, spending a few minutes lining everything up perfectly, giving it one last listen, and then just staring at each other, shocked.

“We just fucking made that!” I said, pointing to his laptop. He nodded with a wide smile. 

“Yes, the fuck we did,” he said, holding his hand up. I gave him a high-five, laughing at the insanity that was the piece of art we just made. 

“What now? Show the boys?” I asked, hooking a finger over my shoulder at the door behind me. 

“Dude, we have to fucking show everyone. Are you kidding me?” 

“Now? You’re gonna post it now?” I asked, both shocked and amused. 

“Y/N. We just spent over two hours editing this together. Plus, it’s just a cover. Yes, now.” He laughed out. I looked over at the clock and realized that we had indeed been doing this for a while. 

“Okay, okay. Ahh, I’m scared. No. I’m excited,” I rushed out, kicking my feet. He just laughed at me before turning to his laptop. I watched as he downloaded the file before uploading it on his personal Spotify with my name featured on it. I just stared at the screen in shock. I just did a cover song. It was now up for everyone to see. And I did it with Will Ramos. Oh my fucking god. 

I quickly pull my phone out, ignoring every notification, and open Spotify. I copy the link to the song and head over to Instagram. I screen-recorded the story Will made earlier, and cropped it as I made a post of the video, and added the link to the song played over the post. 

“Chokehold- Sleep Token. A cover by Will Ramos and Y/N Y/L/N 🖤🤘🏻,” I wrote in the caption. I tagged Will and hit post.

I looked over at Will and grinned. He looked back at me, smiling twice as big. I was so full of excitement and energy, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just flung myself on him, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Will, you’ve made these last two days more fun than I’ve had this past month. Thank you so much.” He held me closer, laughing with me.

“Anything for you, my little petal.” I giggled at my nickname again before pulling away. 

“I’m serious, though. These last few weeks- Hell! These last few years had been fucking crazy for me, and I feel like by simply meeting you, shit’s finally starting to fall into place. I’m doing new things. More people are listening to me. I just learned controls, for fucks sake,” I laughed, making him chuckle down at me, “So thank you. I’m so unbelievably fucking happy to have finally met you.” 

He looks at me with a warm smile, my words soaking in. I was still hugging him, so we were still super close, and I don’t know what came over me, but I pulled him down and brought his lips to mine. 

He tensed for a moment but instantly kissed me back. I brought my hand up to the back of his head, sliding my fingers into his pink locs as I held him close. His hands slid up to my sides, pulling my body towards him more. The kiss was about to deepen, when I got pulled back to reality by my phone ringing. I immediately pulled away and looked at him, shocked, before fumbling to grab my phone. I answered it without even looking at who was calling. 

“Hello?” I greeted, having to clear my throat as it cracked a bit out of shock. 

“YOU RELEASED A SONG WITHOUT TELLING YOUR OWN BAND? YOUR OWN BROTHERS?” Tommy shouted into the phone, making me chuckle and pull my phone from my ear. 

“Shit. Yeah, sorry about that. Will and I were messing around in the studio,” I had to clear my throat again after saying ‘messing around’ before continuing, “ and we were listening to Sleep Token and decided to try out doing a cover, and it came out surprisingly well.”

“When the fuck did you meet Will? I thought he was in New Jersey," he asked.

“Funny story, actually. Him and the band are staying here with a friend, and we ran into each other at the club,” I sheepishly replied. There was silence on the other side of the phone for a few moments, and I almost thought we lost connection before he finally replied.

“Oh, we’re having a long chat the next time I see you, missy. Which better be soon, might I add. I’ve seen you maybe once in the last four days,” he finally said, with a tone mixed with suspicion and deviousness. 

“Yes, Sir. Now, did you only call to yell at me?” I teased.

“Well, I did want to tell you that you two sounded fucking fantastic and that maybe you could invite Will over to the boys’ house, but I can sense you’re having more fun there,” He teased back. 

“Shut it. I appreciate the compliment and will pass it on, but I’m ignoring everything you said after that for multiple reasons.”

“Oh… shit, you’re right. That might be a bad idea…Anyway, have fun with your little date. Love you!” He said, making me roll my eyes. 

“Love you, too.” And then I hung up. I chewed on my lip nervously before finally turning around to look at Will. He was staring at me with a humorous expression. 

“I hope you know that I could hear that entire conversation,” He chuckled out, making me facepalm, “And tell him that I said thank you for the compliment. Now…what was that?” 

I groaned and walked past him, sitting down and throwing my head down in my hands. 

“Will. I’m so sorry,” was all I could get out. I hear his footsteps come towards me, and I looked up to see him crouching down in front of me. 

“For what? I mean, we’ve done more than that, so don’t think I’m bothered.”

“No. I mean, I am sorry for kissing you. I said we were gonna leave it all behind and pretend like nothing happened, and I still want to. But I’m mainly sorry that I may be pulling you into a very awkward situation.” He gave me a confused look. I let out a deep sigh. Should I even explain or just leave him out of this?

“So… Something may or may not have happened with…someone …I’m touring with…and shit has been weird. Fuck. It’s a long ass story,” I finished with a groan. He chuckled softly and rested his hands on my knees before sitting down in front of me with his legs crossed. 

“I have time, my petal. Tell me what’s bothering you.” I let out another deep sigh. I might as well tell someone else the bullshit that’s been happening since everyone else seems to know.

And so I did. I told him everything. From the festival to the song lyrics. The ‘talk.’ The night at the bar. The Halloween/ birthday party. The depression. Me getting back into smoking. How reckless I was being last night because I wasn’t in the right mind. Everything. And he sat there, staring at me and listening intently, occasionally giving my knees a squeeze if I got a little too emotional. He let me tell him everything. Once I finally finished, he stood up, pulling me up with him and giving me a big hug. 

“Everything will work out, my little petal. You two will eventually make up because you have to, or else tour will be really weird. I’m perfectly fine being that rebound that kind of gets in the way because I know you didn’t do it to hurt anyone. And because I really enjoy spending time with you and being your friend,” He pulled away and looked me deep in my eyes, “And just your friend. We can leave everything in the past. We randomly ran into each other at a club, went home separately, and the next day, I gave you vocal lessons and we recorded a song together. That’s all that happened. Okay?” 

Tears were now welling up in my eyes as I nodded before pulling him back into a hug. 

“Thank you.” I managed to get out. He rubbed my back as he held me close. 

“Anything for a friend.” 

After a minute or two of just taking in the comfort and reassurance, I finally pulled away and sat back down, him following and sitting back in his chair. He turned back to his laptop, typing away at something for a few minutes as I sat in my thoughts. 

“Will?” I asked after a few moments. He turned to me with a ‘hm?’

“What’s with the ‘my little petal’?” I finally asked. He chucked and sat back in his chair with a small shy grin. 

“Uh..well, first off, you’re pretty like a flower. You’re soft, delicate, and, you know, are able to either attract or repel others with your looks…I guess? Plus, you can be a little sharp, but only if you have to…And I like flowers. I don’t know. It was something that came to mind last night and I guess it just stuck,” He answers, a little embarrassed, making me giggle. 

“God, you’re such a sap. If I didn’t have a goddamn soul tie to someone, that would work on me,” I teased, making him laugh loudly. 

“Good to know,” he teased back with a smirk, “But, on a different note, I do have an idea for you.” 

I look at him suspiciously, waiting for him to continue. He returned to doing something on the laptop before moving him and the computer to the control board. I watched him curiously as he started messing with things again. He couldn’t possibly want to change anything about the cover we did. It was already posted.

After messing around with a few things, he turned to me.

“Two questions. One- How badly do you want to at least try and make things better between you two? Like, I know it’s still super rocky, and it’s gonna take time, but do you want to at least reach out?” He asked. I was confused, but still thought about it for a moment, weighing my decisions.

“Badly. I know we’re gonna have to start over completely. We’ve both done some weird shit in the past few weeks, but I need us to reach a point where we can at least look at and speak to each other again.” I finally answered. He nodded before continuing.

“Second question, are you okay with being recorded today?” I looked at him, extra confused, and saw that he was pointing towards a camera that has apparently been in the sound booth this whole time. What did this man have planned?

I pulled out my phone and opened the camera, looking over my appearance. My makeup was mostly intact after redoing it in the morning, even after tearing up a little, and I didn’t do anything with my hair today, but I ran my fingers through it so it was semi-presentable. Then my eyes landed on my neck, and I made a slight hiss at the marks. 

“Let me borrow a hoodie, and I’ll be fine,” I answered, and he immediately started taking off the one he threw on earlier and handed it to me before getting up and walking to the sound booth to start messing with the camera in there. 

“Will, what am I about to do? Why am I being recorded?” I asked, more confused than ever. He just shot me a smirk as he finished messing with the camera and came back out. 

“Just get in there.” He said, pointing at the sound booth.

“You have to tell me what song I’m covering. Do I even know it?” I said as I threw on his hoodie and walked into the sound booth. I pulled the hood up so it was shielding my neck from the camera and then tried my best to pretend a camera wasn’t flashing, indicating that it was already recording me.

“Y/N, I promise you that if you don’t know this song, it’s not meant to be.” He spoke into my headphones. I continued staring at him, confused as ever. And then I watched as he hit a few buttons, setting the track back and hitting record, before finally hitting play. I got myself ready to sing whatever song I apparently should know. 

And then ‘Just Pretend’ started playing.

Will and I were working on putting the video together. He made me do multiple takes, the first one showing that I was a little spooked at the song choice. We edited the audio, taking out as many voice cracks as possible since singing this song over and over again did eventually make me emotional. 

Now he was, in his words, “working his magic,” and, “putting the best video over the audio.” And I just sat back and let him work, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodies as I listened to him type away at his laptop.

Would this even work? He kept choosing audio clips that captured more emotion, even if I was literally crying as I sang. I told him that it was going to sound weird, but he kept shutting me up, saying that he knew what he was doing. I was so drained from everything we did today, and good god, I’ve listened to myself sing so much today, I think I’m going to lose my mind. I leaned my head back against the chair and let out a deep sigh. Today has been a lot. Not in a bad way, just…a lot.

He swiveled his chair around and turned to me, making me look up at him. He held the computer out to me, so I took it, eying him.

“My work here is done,” he said with a proud smile. He was a little too excited about this, even after watching me cry for over an hour to a song. My eyes flickered between him and the laptop, debating if I even wanted to see this, but I still hit play.

The music started, and my voice rang through the laptop speakers. It was a little too full of emotion for my standards, but I’m going to trust Will on this. Then, I realized he had chosen one of the last recordings, where I had already cried, so my eyes were a little red. 

I continued watching, seeing that he still kept some of the audio clips where my voice cracked, but just in the right spots, like the parts where I held out notes. 

Weigh down on me, stay til morning

Way down, would you say I’m worthy

A tear fell down my eye in the video. I don’t cry in front of people. And he wants me to post this?

Weigh down on me, stay til morning 

Way down, would you say I’m worthy

I had glanced into the camera at that point. I didn’t even know I did that, but you could see the emotion in my red, puffy eyes. My makeup was even starting to run a little.

I can wait for you at the bottom 

I can stay away if you want me to

I can wait for years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain’t gettin over you

My voice cracked at almost every high note, but it didn’t sound bad. It was just…emotional.

We’ll try again

When we’re not so different 

We will make amends

Til then, I’ll just pretend

I had stepped away from the mic at that point, unable to finish from the exhaustion of having to repeatedly sing a song that held every emotion I felt, but Will layered vocals from another clip over the video, just sounding a little more distant. I looked over at Will with a look of disbelief as the video faded out.

“Well?” He asked, still holding a proud, smug grin on his face. 

“Wh- How- Will!” I stuttered, in complete shock, “I-what do I even do with this?” 

“Well, I’m glad you asked. I reached out to Mr. Nicholas Ruffilo, asking for permission to even do this. He said to send him the video as soon as it’s finished, and then we could figure out where to go from there,” he answered. I looked between him and the laptop again before handing the computer back to him.

“I don’t know how this is gonna work out, but since you did all the work, you get all the blame,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a sigh. I can either see this fucking things up more, or actually working out, but either way, fans are going to freak the fuck out if this gets posted online. God, am I really communicating with a man through music again? 

Will types away at the computer, probably saving the file and sending it to Ruffilo, before looking at me.

“I’m starving. Wanna go get dinner?” He asked, as if nothing happened. I give him an exhausted yet humored side-eye before nodding and standing up with him.

Noah

I awoke to someone rummaging next to me. With a groan, I rolled over and looked to see Ruffilo screwing the lid back onto the bottle of vodka next to my bed, Nick turning my speakers off, and Jolly picking up my smashed phone and a picture that I guess had also fallen when I threw the phone. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” I groaned, before bringing my arm over my eyes, the hangover instantly kicking in. I still felt tipsy, probably not having slept for a long time, but that didn’t change the fact that I hadn’t had a single sip of water today. 

“Take this,” Ruffilo said. I peek out from under my arm and see him handing me a glass of water like he read my fucking mind, which I instantly took. I sat up and chugged the whole glass. It felt like I hadn’t had water in days. I set the cup beside me before dropping my head in my hands with a loud groan.

“Do we..?” I heard Jolly ask, not knowing what the hell he meant. I then heard someone, probably Ruffilo, crouch down beside my bed. I glance over and see him giving me a pitying look, making me roll my eyes. 

“Whenever you’re ready, I have something to show you downstairs. I can make the other guys leave for a little if you don’t want to deal with company, but it’s something that you need to see,” he said in a hushed tone, like I was a dog he would scare away if he spoke too loud. 

I let out a deep sigh and rubbed my eyes before swinging my feet over the bed. There’s nothing they could show me that would make me feel worse than I do now, so why the fuck not? They all backed up as I sat up from my bed, swaying a little as the alcohol hadn’t yet left my system. They all file out of my room, and I follow.

“Did you guys seriously pick my lock?” I grumbled out, remembering that I had locked the door before passing out. Nick glanced over at me, looking a little guilty, causing a huff of a laugh to escape my lips. 

They led me to the living room, which was thankfully empty. Who knows where everyone else was. Jolly reached over and grabbed a laptop, sitting down on the couch and opening it. I plopped down next to him, sinking into the back of the couch, not really wanting to be here. After a few moments of him typing away at it, pulling something up, he sat the laptop on the table in front of me. 

I glanced at the laptop and then at the rest of them, confused. What the fuck were they about to show me? Ruffilo motioned his head towards it, signaling to me that I had to press play, so I did. 

Instantly, the beginning of ‘Just Pretend’ played through the speakers of the laptop, making me groan. What the fuck was this? But then, her face came up as the vocals started.

I just sat there, staring at her in shock as she sang. She had a hoodie pulled over her so only her face showed. I leaned in closer, noticing something. She was crying. Every time she opened her eyes, they were bloodshot, and her makeup had been running.

Her voice cracked with emotion every high note, like she had been holding back a sob. I never wanted to see her cry. Especially not like this…

The bridge hit, and my eyes widened as she looked at the camera. Her eyes were full of what I could only describe as despair. They were dull and glazed over, barely even processing where she was looking, just staring off as she let the emotion flow through her singing. Her voice was harsh, like she had either been using it a lot or smoking. But it was still beautiful.

She stepped away from the mic after the heart wrenching post-chorus, almost like her body was about to cave in on itself. But her voice still rang through. Her face scrunched up as she looked down, and you could almost see a sob shake her body. The sight of her at a breaking point as her beautiful voice still sang, just in the distance, was more heartbreaking than anything I’ve ever seen.

The video finally ended and I just stared at the black screen, catching my reflection in it and saw that I was crying as well. I don’t even know what to do now. Emotion poured through me and my head fell into my hands as broken sobs left my lips. What the fuck was that? What the fuck do I do now?

I made a terrible fucking mistake, and she had obviously went to Will to make her feel better, but then she makes this? What the fuck does any of this even mean? What the fuck do I do? I want to see her. To hold her. But that’s not my place. It never was. She learned that going to people like Matt or Tommy or Will was much less heartbreaking than coming to me. But I just need to talk to her. To start over.

Why did I start ignoring her? Why did I get so upset at the bar? She had every single right to feel that way, I just became attached too quickly and couldn’t let her leave. But she still did. She left, and she probably already moved on to Will. I mean, that was the same sound booth that I saw in that picture earlier, so she’s obviously been spending the break with him. She was barely here at the party. God, that fucking party. The first time I got a chance to be close to her in two weeks and I spent it ruining everything. I got jealous at her being a friendly person and went and fucking slept with someone. She had every single right to fucking move on. I mean, I tried to as well.

But what the fuck was this then? Why did she cover my fucking song, looking ever so heartbroken? Where the fuck did this even come from? Why were the guys showing me this? I finally look up at the three boys in front of me, all of them staring down at me in pity.

“What the fuck is this?” I finally managed to get out between sobs.

“All I was told was that she wanted to make this and that Will wanted me to show it to you. You’re gonna have to talk to her to figure out the rest.” Ruffilo responded, not helping me at all.

“I just don’t understand! I see a post of her hanging out with Will, covered in hickeys, and then she fucking does this?” I ask, still overwhelmed with everything. Ruffilo sighs.

“Noah. You do realize that you’re doing the exact same thing, right? You slept with someone and then proceeded to break down in guilt. She’s just the one to throw in the towel first. She’s trying to make up.” I groan between sobs and fall back into the couch, bringing an arm up to cover my face.

“What do I do, then? It’s not like I can text her. My phones broken and it’s just gonna be awkward.”

“Just think about it. Plan out your best choice of action and work from there. This is something that can only be fixed by the two of you,” he answered. Fuck.

“Also, I’ll head out tomorrow to get you a new phone. It’s too late to go now,” Jolly chimed. After thinking about it for another minute, I let out a deep sigh and sat back up.

“Okay. I’ll figure this out.” The boys watched me for a second, trying to get a good sense of if I was being serious, before coming over and patting me on the back before heading into the house, probably to hang out with the rest of the guys, leaving me in my thoughts.

Y/N

I anxiously chew on my lip as Will and I walk down the streets of L.A. Neither of us heard anything back from Ruffilo or any of the guys, yet. Will said that he didn’t want the night to end just yet, since I wasn’t in the best headspace, and he did his best to keep me from my thoughts as we went on our little adventure, which I really appreciated. But, to be honest, neither of us know where the hell we were going.

After we ate, he thought it’d be a good idea to just explore the city since neither of us really knew anything about it, but nothing caught our eye as we walked. It was nice to stretch our legs after sitting in a studio for a good eight hours, though.

We walked through the city, pointing out random things we saw, occasionally bumping into each other, either on purpose or because we weren’t paying attention, and just chatting about whatever came to our minds. 

“What are your thoughts on adding a rhythm guitarist to Praising Deities?” I asked. He chucked, but gave it some thought. 

“I mean, I have a feeling you’re gonna want to change up your style a little, now that you’re more comfortable with broadening your vocal range, but it is a lot of work splitting the guitar into two parts,” he answered. 

“Yeah. We’ve changed things up a few times, but adding harsher vocals like yours would be a huge step. I do some already, but nothing more than a simple growl. So, if we really want to take that step, a lot of work is gonna have to go into this.” 

“Do you have someone in mind? Or do you just want to add the more concentrated sound of a melodic guitar?” I thought about it for a minute.

“No, and I highly doubt Tommy would want to learn to switch to pure rhythm. Not that he’s bad at it, but he really enjoys what he plays now,” I look over at him with a smirk, “I mean, would you be mad if I stole Andrew? He might even like my vocals more than you.”

He let out a loud laugh and swung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me in to his side. I giggled and looked up at him as we paused on our walk. He looked down at me with a smirk.

“You wish,” was all he said before he let go and continued walking, picking up speed to make me catch up to him. But that’s when something caught our eye. A flash. Fuck. 

We both pause and glance towards the direction it came from, seeing a man holding a camera in our direction. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mumbled. He let out a sigh.

“Let’s just head back to Dave’s. There’s nothing out here for us to do anyway.” And with that, we turned around and retraced our steps, making our way back.

“You’re back again? Don’t you have a band to be spending time with?” Austin teased with a fale scowl as we walked into the house.

“Of course I do. It’s your band!” I joked back. He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“What? Will didn’t tell you guys? You’re getting a second, better vocalist!” I continued, putting my hands on my hips to look confident. Will softly pushed me while laughing, making me stumble and giggle as I walked over to the couch and sat down with everyone. 

Will walked past us into the kitchen, and I started chatting with everyone there. I’ve gotten surprisingly comfortable with them after they helped me with my vocals earlier, so I wasn’t as nervous to be around them anymore. 

Will came back out and handed me a drink. I didn’t know what it was, so I gave him a slightly suspicious look as I took a sip. I made a face, not expecting it to be a vodka cranberry, but it was still really good. He chuckled at my face before sitting down next to me. 

“Oh so first she steals clothes, and now she’s taking our drinks?” Micco joked. Ever since this morning, they’ve been messing with me all day, but I loved it. It was like I was back with my own boys again.

I looked at him confused, before remembering that I was still wearing Will’s hoodie, so I set down my drink and took it off, handing it back to him. 

“No, you didn’t have to. I’m fine,” he said, trying to push it back to me. 

“Well, I don’t really need it anymore, and I don’t wanna accidentally wear it home,” I persisted, trying to give it back. He grabbed it and sat it between us.

“I’ll keep it here if you need it,” He spoke softly as he leaned back and turned his attention towards the guys. 

I just shook my head with a small laugh before grabbing my drink, taking a sip, and doing the same. 

The guys and I all chatted for a few hours, the alcohol making Will and I a little more loose-lipped as the night went on, him even making us more drinks. They asked me questions about my band and how the tour was going. I may have been a little too honest, but it didn’t affect them. I even asked them for advice on the best course of action on drastically changing the sound of our music, now that I was getting more comfortable with the thought of it. They gave really good advice, but a lot of it was that I had to talk to my own bandmates about it, which made sense. 

After we were a few drinks in, Will leaned his head on my shoulder as we all talked. He was still fully awake, the alcohol just making him want to get comfier, and if I learned anything the past two days, it was that Will was a cuddler. He loved physical touch, and the closer to you, the better, so I wasn’t shocked when he eventually sank into the couch, cuddling into my side as we all chatted. And I knew it was normal when the rest of the guys didn’t even blink an eye at it.

Though, after some time, he became dead weight against me, and when I looked over, I saw that he was out like a light. I did my best to keep the conversation going, but between the warmth of his body heat and the alcohol, I felt my eyes getting heavier. 

The rest of the guys started to notice, so they eventually excused themselves to either head to bed or hang out somewhere else, saying they didn’t want to wake him. 

With that, I leaned my head on Will’s and eventually slipped into a deep sleep.

I woke up to the feeling of someone looming over me, so with a scrunched face, I opened my eyes and saw Moke and Austin looking at Austin’s phone, giggling about something. I tried to raise an arm to rub my eyes, but realized they were stuck. Looking down, I saw that at some point in the night, Will and I had laid down, and now he was sprawled out on top of me, practically pinning me to the couch. He was still completely out, just pure dead weight on top of me. 

A yawn escaped my lips, making the two goofballs aware that I was now awake, and they giggled down at me. 

“What are you two idiots up to?” I softly asked, my voice coming out harsh and raspy, either from the alcohol or the fact that I don’t think I shut up for a single second yesterday. 

Austin turned his phone around with a mischievous grin on his face, showing me that he had taken a picture of Will and me and posted it to his story, captioning it, “These two don’t know how to party.” 

I finally managed to slide a hand out from between Will and I and reached for his phone, wanting a closer look. I couldn’t tell from my angle, but Will was completely intertwined with my body. Our legs looped around each other and I was using one of his arms as a pillow as his other arm draped across my chest. He was using one of my tits as a pillow, which made me giggle. We were both out cold, Will’s mouth slightly agape as if he was snoring. I gave the phone back to Austin after rolling my eyes. 

“So, am I just stuck like this now?” I ask the two, making them chuckle. 

“Yep. He can sleep for a whole day if he’s comfortable enough, so good luck!” Moke responded. I almost let out a groan, but didn’t because I would feel bad if I woke him. 

“So I’m trapped under a dead body and you two are just taking pictures? What the fuck?” I teasingly whisper yelled. They both walked away with suppressed giggles, leaving me to wait for Will to wake up. 

With my now free arm, I searched around me, trying to feel if there was anything for me to entertain myself with. My body was hanging ever so slightly off the edge of the couch, so I had a feeling my phone slipped out of my pocket at some point in the night. I couldn’t move my head, or any other of my body for that matter, but thankfully my hand finally touched the cold screen and I did my best to grab it with a contorted arm. 

I turn it on after finally picking it up, and saw that it was already noon. The guys and I were up for a while last night, so I’m not too shocked that we slept this late, but it felt weird that I had spent more time with Will than anyone else this whole break. But at the same time, I didn’t care. I literally live with three of them and I’m going to be spending the next almost three months with the other five, and this will be the only time I’ll get to spend with Will for who knows how long. 

Maybe I could see if my boys wanted to hang out with the Lorna Shore boys. I would invite everyone else, but with everything happening, I haven’t been too close with any of them lately. I’ll mention it to Will later.

I finally open my phone and click on the messages I saw that I had. There were a few from my boys, telling me that they missed me and they wished I was partying with them and everyone else. I wish I was too, but with the state that my life was in right now, I’d much rather spend my time with the person who was most unrelated to the tour and everyone in it. I couldn’t be more thankful to have run into Will. He was everything I needed at this time. Someone who brought excitement into my life, distracting me from everything else. Someone who, even though it was a terrible mistake, managed to heal a small part of me the other night. A healing intimate encounter, proving that not every man I got this close with in my 20s was going to hurt me in some way. Purely a quick rebound that we both agreed wouldn’t affect anything, followed by getting an insane amount of support in both my music and with the stress that this whole fiasco has caused. And a new friend. An amazing friend. He was so different from anyone else I had in my life at the moment that it just felt so good to be around him, especially because he came with a completely different friend circle, so I could have peace from everything while still being social. 

I did my best to text them back, having to type with one hand that was hovering unsupported over my face and still deep in thought over how insane my life has been recently. But the movement from the heavy weight on my body almost made me drop my phone on my face. 

Will shifted in his sleep, turning slightly and pulling himself closer to me. He dug his face between my shoulder and neck, probably shielding his eyes from the light that shone through the living room windows. I close my phone and set it on my chest, not wanting to drop it and scare him. He let out a tired groan as he stretched and pulled closer to me, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the tickle of his face and breath on my neck. 

He paused for a second once he heard it, finally realizing the position he was in, before giggling with me. 

“Good morning,” his groggy voice spoke into my neck, tickling me even more, making me squirm and try to pull away at the feeling. 

“Good morning, dead weight.” I exaggeratedly huffed out. He lifted his face and looked at me with half lidded, tired eyes and a cheeky grin before trying to push himself off of me without hurting me. 

I took an exaggerated deep breath as I sat up, teasing him. He shook his head with a smile and yawned. 

“By the way, I think Austin might be worse than paparazzi,” I said as I stretched, needing to loosen my cramped muscles from not being able to move them all night.

He gave me a confused look, so I told him to check Austin’s story. He took a minute to search for his phone. Finally finding it between the couch cushions, he typed in Austin’s username and checked, immediately laughing. 

“Everyone’s gonna think we’re dating,” he chuckled, rubbing his face. 

“I’ve never cared about fan speculation since they’ll grasp onto anything these days, but this is probably gonna cause some issues for my situation if I don’t clear the air.” 

“Yeah..” he dragged out, “I mean, it’s no problem for me. If anything, this will definitely help keep the fan’s eyes off of you and Noah until you get everything situated.” 

I thought about it for a moment, and he was right. Fans love digging into our personal lives, so if there wasn’t a distraction, I know rumors and stories would spread over how they see Noah and I interact. Hell, there's fans who think I’m with all of them, even my bandmates, so if they just focused on my so-called ‘relationship’ with Will, I won’t have to worry about them constantly talking about Noah and me.

“Honestly, this may help a lot of issues. As long as I inform mine and his band what’s actually happening, this will save us from a lot of heat on the internet.” I said after a few moments, “Oh! Speaking of, are you busy today?”

He thought for a moment, trying to get his tired brain to run its gears. 

“Not that I know of, but I can also ask the guys,” he finally answered, suppressing a yawn. 

“Would you be down to meet my boys? I just feel bad that I’m gonna be spending more of our break with you and not with them.” He let out a sleepy giggle after thinking about it for a second.

“Or, you can always just hang out with them? Without me?” he teased. I felt a blush creepy up to my cheeks, but not before playing it off and faking a gasp.

“You don’t want to hang out with me anymore?” I pulled an exaggerated pout. His eyes immediately widened.

“Wait! No! That’s not what I meant!” He rushed out, making me laugh.

“I’m kidding! I just figured that I’d hang out with you until you kicked me out since I probably won’t see you for a while after this, and the boys would love to meet you and possibly the rest of the band if they’re down.” A frown creeped up on his face as I spoke.

“Wait..You’re right. I won’t see you after this,” he whined, “Yeah, I’ll ask the guys if they wanna join, but I’m not letting you leave until you’re getting on that damn tour bus.” 

“Does that mean you’re joining me when I go back to the hotel to change?” I asked, laughing.

“Yes.” he stated, bluntly, making me laugh more. 

“Okay, let me text the boys, and then we can head over,” I chuckled out. He nodded and stood to go talk to his bandmates as I grabbed my phone and texted Tommy.

Y/N- On a scale from 1 to 10, how excited would you and the boys be to hang out with Lorna Shore today?

Tominic- ASKING THEM NOW OMGOMGOMG

I shook my head and laughed at his text. Tommy wasn’t as big of a fan of them as I was, but when I played their music enough, you can’t not enjoy it a little. But then, I realized I may have to clarify something.

Y/N- I feel like this may be obvious, but this invitation is for you three only. I’m not in the mood for awkward conversations right now❤️ 

Tominic- 🫡 Yes, maam

Y/N- …maybe Matt can come, too

Tominic- He’s not at the house right now, so you should text him

Y/N- will do. I’ll let you know where we’re meeting up. Give me like 2 hours to head back to my hotel and change

Tominic- 👀 so you spent the night?

Y/N- IN A HOUSE FULL OF 5 OTHER GUYS SO SHUT IT

I laughed as I closed out of our chat and opened Matt’s. I sent him a text, but he didn’t immediately respond, so I just closed my phone and got all my things together and waited for Will so we could head back to my hotel.

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Nuanced and Multifaceted Conflict vs. “Good v. Evil” in fiction

So. This is another thing I’ve wanted to talk about for a while. I promise I won’t always be focusing on Helluva Boss in my critiques, and I actually have quite a few other series I want to talk about.

There’s a big chance that I’ll be saying everything other people have already said, but I can’t help but WANT to talk about this specific character in regard to the story’s conflict. I think that it’s important to recognize when a character is written to be a complex person, and when a character is written to be an enemy to be defeated, and how not following through with your set-up can affect your story.

And HB does that A LOT in my opinion.

So. Let’s get into it. This time I’ll be talking about complex conflict between characters vs. black and white conflict, and I’ll also be touching on story set-ups and audience expectations.

I want to talk about a character who could have really made some of the internal character conflicts have so much more depth and intrigue. I want to talk about Stella Goetia

*as a side note this post is MUCH longer than I intended but I really wanted to get into a lot of the background and reasons for how Stella’s character development has actually completely changed what HB’d story conflict could have looked like. I’ll try and sum up everything in the end in a TLDR for y’all

So. Most of the reviews of her character I see talk about how she’s been “ruined” by the writing team revealing that she’s always been very abusive towards Stolas

I have to start off by saying I actually don’t think that Stella or her portrayal was “ruined” by the writing direction her character has been taken in.

In fact, this critique bothers me, because it doesn’t really get to what I think the actual root of why people are disappointed in Stella’s characterization, and the type of conflict that now exists between her and Stolas.

The main reason I believe people are unsatisfied with Stella is because they believed that her character was being set up for a complex and nuanced conflict between her and Stolas, and then that turned out not to be the case.

A quick disclaimer- I do think it’s possible to subvert audience expectations about story and characters in a satisfying way. But it has to be done in a way that respects the audiences intelligence and willingness to think about the story.

If your plot-twist, unreliable narrator, subversion, or what-have-you is done well, the audience should be able to either figure out what’s going based on the little information you’ve given them, and if they don’t, the change or subversion should still make sense and CLICK in hindsight.

Otherwise, your subversion will end up feeling cheap or confusing. Or worse, like a lie.

And this is one of the MAIN issues I think people have with Stella.

As the audience, we were NOT given enough information on her or her character before it’s revealed that she’s just “evil” and always has been, apparently since she was a literal child.

Again, I don’t think it’s an inherently bad decision to have a flat or pure evil villain. I’m fine with Stella being one, even if it’s less interesting to me personally.

But it’s definitely very different from what was initially implied and set-up, and the audience can pick up on that.

Before S2E1 “The Circus” we see Stella a total of 3 times in person, with one time being a flashback.

I’m going to go over those times to analyze if anything set-up in Stella’s appearances points towards her being. Well, totally and irredeemably awful and abusive I guess.

The very first time we see Stella is in the same bed with Stolas—Octavia calls for her parents, both Stolas AND Stella. Stella grumbles and refuses to get up and tells Stolas to go. This doesn’t immediately strike me as a sign of her being a terrible person. That exact scenario is present in a lot of family comedies, kids’ movies, and sitcoms.

Nothing about this screams that Stella is a terrible parent or an abusive partner to me. It just tells me she’s tired and doesn’t want to get up, which again, is not uncommon.

The next time we see her, she’s yelling at Stolas, and she throws a servant at him in anger.

Now, there’s no excuse for this, her behavior here is not okay, regardless of her feelings. But we understand why she’s acting the way she is--she’s furious with Stolas for cheating on her. At this point with the information we have, it’s also very reasonable to believe her feelings have been hurt.

Later Octavia talks about how her parents didn’t used to hate each other, and the way Stolas’ tries to explain their failing marriage to her comes across like his relationship with Stella is one that’s always had difficulties that they have tried and failed to overcome.

None of this information is enough to really convey or hint that Stella is and has always been abusive or evil. It shows that Stella and Stolas have a very rough relationship, and that Stella most likely has anger management difficulties, but you have to do lot of extra work to come to the conclusion that Stella is completely at fault here.

The next time we see her though, things have clearly escalated, because it’s revealed that she’s one that hired Striker to assassinate Stolas.

Now. Usually. Yeah. That would be a HUGE red flag. And I mean. It still obviously is.

But, and I never thought I’d use this uno reverse card, this is one of the few times where the explanation of “But it’s hell, what did you expect???” actually makes sense to me.

Because yeah, it is hell. It’s the end of episode 5 when we learn this, and our protagonists have killed and assassinated multiple people. Taking a hit out on people really doesn’t seem to be that uncommon of a thing in hell.

Even the next scene after the reveal that Stella is the one who hired Striker makes light of how serious this is, by showing that Stella was basically yelling her assassination plot right to Stolas’ face.

This is played for laughs! I genuinely am not sure if the writers intended for this to be foreshadowing of Stella’s abuse or not because if so, they turned her attempting to kill her husband into a joke!

If you cannot keep your themes or tone consistent, how is the audience supposed to follow your story?

There is subtle storytelling, and then there’s tacking information and character points later on in your writing. And this can have two causes.

Either your audience has to do the work of story-telling for you and make up their own reasons for what’s happening to make the story coherent OR they will be disappointed and dissatisfied by the final product.

I think that’s the main reason why S2E1 of Helluva Boss felt so jarring story-wise, and why Stella, to me at least, suddenly felt like a brand new character.

Like I haven’t been this confused by a character being suddenly evil since Hans from Frozen.

(like seriously why the hell did they put this scene in if not to just trick the audience. This isn’t giving us any plot info it’s only giving us contradictory info on his character. Like I talked about before, Hans’ heel-face-turn doesn’t feel like a twist. It feels like a lie.)

Okay so, how does any of this actually affect anything? Who cares if Stella is evil, that doesn’t automatically make the story bad!

Well. Yeah, of course not. Ironically, having the main conflict your story being a battle between “Good v. Bad” characters is neither good nor bad. It’s just a story decision. And ultimately at the end of the day, the writers of Helluva Boss can choose to tell their story however they’d like.

But, depending on how this is executed, good v evil stories can be a lot less interesting than morally grey or complicated conflicts and characters.

I am more interested in the version of the story where Stella and Stolas are imperfect and messy people. I am more interested in the story where Stolas has an affair to escape being in an arranged marriage, and Stella overreacts by arranging a hit on her husband (unless calling out a hit is normal in hell, but we can’t know b/c there is no baseline for what is considered normal in hell)

I am so much more interested in the story where Stolas and Stella are both depicted as being in the wrong, as being incredibly hurt by each other’s actions, and as not knowing how to repair their broken relationship for the sake of their daughter.

That story feels very real to me. It’s one I want to engage and invest in.

I want to see if these characters can grow to accept their mistakes and learn and change for the sake of Octavia and having to co-exist with each other, or if they’ll slip back into mutual destruction and toxicity.

But that’s not the story we’ll get to see, because it seems like the writers are more interested in keeping Stolas from having to grow as a character. And because of that, Stella has been turned into an evil obstacle that must be defeated, instead of a nuanced and real person.

I also feel like I have to say. I know I would be MUCH less frustrated by this if I hadn’t seen an HB crew member talking about how their show is similar to Bojack Horseman.

Because. It’s just not. I’m sorry, I’m not saying that to be mean, or condescending, or rude, but the way characters are written in Helluva Boss is almost completely black and white at this point.

Regardless of the writer’s intent, the vast majority of the choices they have made in Season 2 come off as explanations to excuse the protagonist’s mistakes, and give them a “get out of being potentially in the wrong” free card.

Compared to the writing decisions in Bojack, which almost always has characters confront their wrongdoings, for better or worse, HB honestly feels like it’s the Anti-Bojack.

It would take a TON of character development and time to make HB’s characters as interesting, fleshed-out, and as real as Bojack’s are, and at this point that’s I don’t think it will ever happen.

Again. Having black and white conflict is FINE. It is a choice in story telling that can be done very effectively. But if you are making a black and white story where one side is always terrible and evil, and one side can do no wrong, you can’t act like you’ve written something that is deeper and more emotionally complex and grey than that.

And the first time the writers gave Stella more than 3 sentences to string together, they made it very clear that any chance of her being a more complex and engaging character was being tossed out the window.

————

TLDR:

The main reason people are upset about Stella being shown as abusive in S2E1 of HB is probably because the initial depictions of her didn’t give us enough information on her character to tell that she was just evil/a terrible person.

The way the story was written in S1 to set up the possibility of a very interesting and complex conflict between Stella and Stolas, and when it was revealed that she’s just. The worst. There were people that were disappointed by this, because they expected more.

Audiences actually aren’t idiots, and when you subtly foreshadow something and then completely change things, that can be frustrating.

It’s MORE than okay to write a straightforward good v evil story, but it depending on the way it’s written and executed, it may not be as interesting to mature audiences as a more morally grey story would be.

If you can’t write characters confronting their flaws and being in the wrong, please don’t compare your writing to Bojack, I mean. C’mon.

[messierthanthou]

Untitled - Bottom!Billy - Rated E - 2.5k Words - Written in Honour of @aggressiveviking !! Enjoy, everyone!

If it wasn’t for Neil, Billy could and would love more. But it has all been beat out of him, scared to ever even think of the things he wants to. Daily life is a masquerade, him in a lion’s mask, the rest surrounding him those of lambs.

It was a long way to the top of the food chain, but even greater would the fall be, if it was that anyone dared threaten his role at the top of the school’s hierarchy. 

Which - perhaps unintentionally - one Steve Harrington attempts purely by existing. Those deep brown eyes that sees past the mask of the still freshly crowned king disturbs Billy on such a ground-shaking level that it is do or die, whether either of them wants to or not, a battle is brewing between the two, and Billy, no matter his pains in life, is not ready to give up.

So he finds himself in the pouring rain, standing just a few feet away from the Harrington mansion, soaked to the bone but it doesn’t cool off his heated temper nor does it calm down his pounding heart.

Billy doesn’t know exactly what he wants, but he can’t let it keep bubbling up inside him at school, because what if he loses it? Exactly what it is he could lose, he doesn’t know, but he does know that he needs to release some of the pressure burning inside him.

Without forethought as to what he’ll say or do once Steve is there, he knocks on the door and rings the bell. He’s angry, he’s nervous, he’s unsure; everything floods his senses all at once, and as soon as the door opens even an inch, he pushes it all the way and stomps inside, past a startled Harrington.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Steve erupts immediately.

“You alone?”

“Why?”

“No reason.” Billy shrugs, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“You can’t just barge in like this, Hargrove. What are you even doing here? Get out!”

The door is still wide open.

“You’d really send me out into the rain? Cold.”

Harrington groans out in displeasure, then closes the door. Billy figured he’d be a good sport. He’s too kind, even to his nemesis, and it makes the fury in Billy boil worse.

“I’ll get you a towel.”

While Steve vanishes to go find that towel, Billy stomps around the place, dripping on the floor as he goes. He knew they were rich, Steve’s parents, but this is ridiculously fancy for Hawkins. Hell, even their family portrait in the living room is an actual painting, and not just an oversized photograph.

Harrington catches up to Billy when he’s neck deep in the fridge, looking for the cold beers that he finds.

“You can’t just-” Steve starts off with, but Billy is quick to crack open the bottle against the marble countertops. 

Then Billy yanks the towel from the brunette’s grasp and throws it over his shoulder before taking a large gulp of the beer, which tastes far better than what comes out of a keg.

“Nice castle you got here, princess.”

Steve avoids eye contact at that, looking to the side and shifting in place. “What do you want?” he asks skittishly.

Billy doesn’t answer right away as the bottle occupies his lips, and soon there’s not a drop left. “I don’t know.”

“You… you don’t know?” Steve scoffs. “You barge into my house, and you don’t know why?”

The blonde shrugs and shakes his expressionless head.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

As a matter of fact, he does.

Steve then looks down at the floor. “You’re dripping everywhere, dry up for Christ's sake!”

Then Billy smirks a little, teasingly so. “Make me.”

He watches as Harrington clenches his fists before they come near his face, and Billy accepts it; the inevitable punch coming his way. It’s possibly what he deserves, he’s unsure of actually what, but a hit might be it. And yet, he doesn’t hurt, instead he feels softness caress his face, going through his hair, as Steve dries him off with the towel.

“Take off your jacket.”

“What?”

“I said take off your jacket,” Steve repeats.

“Why?”

“Because if we don’t get you dried off and warm, you’ll get sick.”

“And why do you care?”

The pretty boy takes a step back, towel still in hand. This time he’s the one to shrug, and doesn’t offer another word, lowering silence onto the two of them.

For a moment too long and quiet, Billy considers why Steve wants him out of his clothes, but perhaps the reason is simply more innocent than what Billy imagines. So he does as suggested, taking off his jacket.

“You can borrow some dry clothes, but once the rain is done you’re out, understood?” Steve sounds so certain of that.

“Sure thing, princess.”

Steve exhales hard enough for Billy to hear it, and is that a slight blush to his cheeks? Or anger at the pet name?

“Come on.”

Harrington’s bedroom is surprisingly barren in comparison to the rest of the house; nothing on the walls besides that shit ass ugly wallpaper, a few pieces of furniture around the room, curtains, and lamps. Billy’s room is a cluttered mess in comparison, but at least his got personality, and this is more like a showroom at a furniture store.

“I’m sure I got something that will fit you…” Steve starts rummaging through the dresser, and as his back is turned to Billy, the blonde starts undressing.

All of it.

And when Harrington turns around, there’s just a gentle gasp from open lips as his eyes seem to be guided like a magnet down to Billy’s limp dick. For whatever reason, Billy gets a kick out of the stare, feeling heat shoot through him to his groin.

“Billy…”

“What?” He grins wickedly. “See something you like?”

Steve looks away, but being naked in the pretty boy's bedroom, it excites Billy beyond belief, beyond understanding. Beyond common sense.

So he takes a step forward, just a small one to test the sudden tension between them. Steve tries to take a step back, but bumps against the dresser behind him.

As much as his heart is beating him into a weak pulp, Billy can’t stop walking closer after that initial tentative step. And he plans to continue till Steve says or does something to stop him. But he doesn’t, so the blonde winds up with his feet next to the other’s, too close perhaps, as he can smell Steve’s body soap and hear his elevated breathing.

They’ve been quiet for too long, so Billy says, “Steve, look at me.”

Without blinking Steve turns his head to look straight into ocean blue eyes, and their noses early touch. He looks concerned.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy, huh?” Billy whispers in a teasing way, almost sensual without intending to be, but the nearness makes it seem like something it might not be. “You wanna punch me, don’t you? Start a fight?” Billy gazes down at Steve’s plump lips, then back up to meet his stare. “Come on then, do it. Hit me. Show me with your fists how much you hate me.”

And for a second time tonight, Steve touches Billy in an unexpected way, as his mouth gently and experimentally presses a kiss against Billy’s.

Who’s stunned. Such a tender act, he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and two thoughts cause war in his head.

Kiss him back, or punch him.

The kiss wins.

But his hands don't stay idle either, as they grab the collar of Steve’s polo shirt and pull him into a far more ravenous kiss than what the brunette offered before. And it does things to Billy that he’s unsure of why it does. He’s confused, angry, furious in fact, but also undoubtedly and impossibly turned on. Never before has he gotten so hard so fast.

And when Steve grabs him by the hips he moans into their brutish kisses. It’s almost as if he can’t think any further past this moment, and yet his hands act by pulling at Harrington’s shirt till Steve takes it off. While his hands are off Billy, they go down to undo his belt and loosen the button on his jeans before the zipper runs free.

With his hands back on tan skin, he softly pushes as he guides Billy backwards and onto the bed, where they both fall together and bounce around a little with slight chuckles.

Billy can’t remember when he last laughed in earnest.

But he doesn’t linger in that moment, instead he crawls back till he meets the headboard and a couple of pillows. Then he spreads his legs for Steve, who places himself between Billy’s thighs and leans down to kiss and nibble across his waxed clean chest. The blonde moans when a tongue finds its way to a nipple, and the tip plays with the sensitive bud, hardening it before lips close around it to suck, and Billy’s sounds grow even more elated.

There are no real words uttered past hoarse curses and yes’s, yet Steve seems to understand what Billy wants as he reaches for a drawer in the side table, and brings out a bottle of lube.

The lid comes off with a clear pop, and the clear fluid pours over three of Steve’s digits. But he pauses, both of them out of breath and silent as the cold lube runs down Steve’s hand and drips onto Billy’s chest. Their eyes then meet, and he can tell that Harrington is searching for approval.

Billy’s heart is in overdrive, but so is his lusty need to feel the other inside of him, so he nods just the once, which proves to be enough for Steve to bring his hand down between them, between Billy’s thighs, between his buttocks and into his hole.

It’s not something he’s used to past a few trial runs with his own thick fingers, but Steve’s are thinner and longer, reaching deeper than Billy expected to, and it takes a moment to get used to the sensation.

And what an amazing sensation it is; Billy gets worried that the pure anticipation of getting fucked by Harrington’s cock might undo him too soon, but he resist the urge to touch himself and finish it all so quickly.

After a few thrusts he dares beg, “More.”

The thrill of a second finger makes him louder, more keen on expressing his incoherent thoughts, and when Steve continues to thrust ever so gently, Billy leaks onto his own stomach whilst gripping at the sheets.

Harrington simply stares starry eyed at the expressiveness of the blonde’s expressions of elation.

It doesn’t take long for Billy to need another finger. “Fuck, pretty boy, more…”

The stretch of the third hurts just a little bit, a slight burning sensation of his rim, but on the inside he feels like melting butter, easy and pliable in the brunette’s hands, a moaning, leaking mess of spectacular nerves coming looser and looser, til those three fingers aren’t enough anymore.

“Come on then, princess, give it all to me. Fuck me.”

It’s more uncomfortable being empty of Steve than it was getting fingered by him, but it gives Billy a moment to breathe without gasping and moaning as he watches Steve lather up his cock and guide it up to Billy’s expectant hole.

Slowly, inch by inch, he glides inside with the most tender of movements, and if Billy thought that Harrington’s fingers were long, reaching where he couldn’t himself, his prick goes past that, pushing in till Billy’s convinced it’ll fill him up completely.

It is breathtaking. 

“You okay?” Steve asks him softly once he’s completely inside of Billy.

He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine, princess.”

“Good… Good. I’m gonna start moving, just tell me if you want to stop.”

The blonde understands now why all those girls want Steve. He’s nice. Too nice maybe. Billy can’t stand looking at him, turns his head to the side and nods.

So Harrington starts, pulling out carefully before pushing in again, and Billy swears he’ll meet a swift end to this experience if he doesn’t hold back, for the feeling of getting fucked so gently is beyond excellent. Every motion, every inch, it consumes him with blinding and deafening lust, all of which he gives clear sound to by the way of moaning and gasping. 

Then Steve leans in to kiss his neck, somehow finding soft spots Billy didn’t know he had, and it helps in the worst way. 

Minutes pass this way, slow thrusts and kind kisses, so tender it might just ruin the war between the two for good, make Billy fall head first into growing a crush on Harrington, something he’s sure he doesn’t want, but doubt comes in with every near loving touch.

“Billy…” Steve mumbles and it sounds perfect coming from him.

So the blonde turns his head to meet those brown eyes gazing dearly down at him.

“Please, keep looking at me.”

Oh it brings forth buried feelings like it’s golden treasure that Billy has been trying to find for so long. Something he didn’t know he even could find within himself. So he looks at Steve as they go through this gentle time together. Billy didn’t think it possible that he and the brunette could be like this. Normally he’s so calculative, thoroughly thinking every word before saying them, practicing in the mirror for hours, but this all came so naturally once he was naked in Steve’s bedroom.

This is easier than hating and fighting him. This is it. Completeness.

“Faster,” he pleads.

And Steve complies, increasing the pace of his thrusts, and every time he bottoms out inside of Billy, the blonde calls out louder and louder, the heat in his gut building up till it engulfs him with fiery passion that can undoubtedly be heard all throughout the woods surrounding the mansion. 

“Billy, fuck!” Harrington hasn’t been completely quiet throughout, but now he’s becoming wilder with his voice, calling out the blonde’s name, telling him how amazing he feels, how incredible this is.

All the praise is what brings him to climax, his dick untouched by hands but rubbed between their stomachs proves to be enough friction, making him moan as his body tenses up and his cock empties out in the space between them.

“Don’t stop!” he calls out, riding the wave of ecstasy for a while longer than what masturbation brings him to. 

“I-I- ah!” Steve tries to speak, but is cut off as he too reaches the peak, which Billy can tell from the way his thrusts become erratic and his whole body shivers and trembles, then it stills, then collapses onto the blonde with his entire weight.

And Billy releases his grip on the sheets that he’s been choking out this entire time. Everything is peaceful and soft and he doesn’t want this moment to end, ever. 

Steve breathes out from exhaustion, and says, “How about a shower?”

Billy hopes that Steve can’t see the little secret smile he has when he responds with, “Sounds great.”

[slocumjoe]

ways people write the companions that make me go hmmm

Gage excluded because I haven't seen enough portrayals of him

Cait; Poor Cait has such confusing, odd writing choices that I can’t blame anyone for doing this, but...when she’s boiled down to either Tough Irish Gal or Traumatized, with little dimension. Again, Bethesda does this themselves in text, depending on ??? so it’s not, like, a big deal. My advice for writing Cait is to remember that she exists outside of being Irish or Traumatized. She’s read/read about Freud, for example. So, she presumably learned to read, likely self-taught. If she read something psychology related, she must have taken an interest in it. That sort of thing. The best way to write Cait is to not take the obvious answer, because Cait’s depth itself isn’t obvious.

Curie; When people write Curie as a stupid, horny, smol bean 2 gud 4 dis world, i throw up in my mouth. Same as Cait, this is Bethesda’s fault. They have a habit of going for funny dialogue instead of sensible. There is no reason for Curie to say half the shit she does, she says it because someone thought it was funny, or worse, sexy. I’d recommend going through Curie’s likes/dislikes and dialogue even more so than I do other companions. Curie has a lot of edges if you go looking for them. Y’know Covenant? Curie supports Covenant. Also, she’s literally a robot in a human body. She’s 200+ years old, too. Make her fucking weird. Y’know how elves/fae are? Like that. Bonus if you make her friendliness off-putting. Being friends with a doctor gets annoying, speaking from personal experience. Also, being a doctor, she knows all about sex and sexual pleasure. She’s not confused what a dick is

Hancock; please acknowledge other aspects of his character beyond horny, sad, or high. He has them, I swear. Do you even know his parents’ names? No. You care only about ghoul dick or stoner jokes. He’s not even a stoner, he does the Fallout equivalent of meth/adderall. Much like Deacon, he does and thinks about other shit. I joke with Hancock as well, but you might notice that none of my actual reacts/headcanons open and close with shit like “he huffs some jet with one hand, fingers you with the other, and thinks about how he sucks”

Danse; i promise you, Paladin Danse is not hypervigilant of people’s asses/tits/dicks/whatevers. He’s not imagining having sex with your busty Sole every time he looks at them. That’s not just not Danse, it’s also very creepy and dehumanizing to both Danse and Sole. Is Sole not more than their tits? Other companions get the too-horny treatment as well, but I see Danse getting it worse of all. Sometimes he’s written as absolute manchild regarding sex, knowing literally nothing, same as Curie. I say Danse doesn’t know what jerking off is as a joke, but he probably knows. But Chronic Virgin Danse is usually a light-hearted joke, Hypersexual Danse is just fucking weird. It gets into unhealthy territory. Like...Danse wouldn’t want to fight people flirting with his crush. He wouldn’t even get aggressive if he was dating Sole. He’s not a hotheaded asshole. Annoyed at best, rude at worst. It’s giving Fifty shades/Twilight/After. 

Deacon; You guys know that when Deacon takes a shit, he isn’t dedicating it to Barbara, right? He isn’t dedicating it to his own redemption, or saving synths? He isn’t thinking up a cool lie to make about the shit-taking? When he has a drink of water, he isn’t like, “Barb used to drink water.” or “The U.P Deathclaws drank water” or “I’m gonna say I killed a behemoth with a water bottle!” Deacon has other thoughts and motivations beyond the meme or the sad. I can’t judge too much, because Deacon himself would approve of being thought of like this, but good god. Just let the dude be a dude sometimes. Let him shit in peace. 

MacCready; might be because he’s the most solidly written, but very few complaints with most MacCready stuff. Him being a little perverted is in character, he’s 22. However, I have seen people straight up forget Duncan and Lucy. It’s okay, though. So did Bethesda.

Nick; Also usually solid, the most common crime is that aforementioned After Shades of Twilight writing. Nick is not a possessive dude. He’s even less likely than Danse to get aggressive over his partner. Yeah, sure, he’s a cop, but is that really the fantasy you want? Really? 

Piper; I have...famously strong opinions on Piper, but good god. Blue this, Blue that, I’m gonna write about this, this’ll look good in my paper, I’m putting this in the news. Oh my God. You’d think Sole was a fucking SMURF with how many writers call them Blue. You’d think Piper dragged her writing press behind her like Sisyphus heaving his boulder along. Same as Deacon and Hancock, SHE DOES OTHER SHIT. People bend over backwards trying to work in the fact she’s a reporter. Same as Cait, the obvious is not interesting. 

Preston; fuck the settlement jokes, I hate it when Preston is turned into an UwU soft boy baby cinnamon roll 2 gud 4 dis world UwU sunshine sweetie pie cutie. Whenever someone does this, they don’t actually like Preston. They have no thoughts, no feelings, they just...I don’t know, want to be contrarion to Preston haters? “Imagine not liking Preston, couldn’t be me ;333″ you realize this is racist, right? Like, you know infantilizing black men is racist? Oh my God you don't know this is racist

X6-88; SPEAKING OF FUCKING RACISM. The highest discourse I’ve seen around X6 is calling it ableist to HC him as autistic, but that is NOT the biggest issue with X6 writing. X6-88 is best described as, like, a very expensive, very spoiled cat of a rich, Old Money asshole. You know the Evil Stepmother’s cat in Cinderella? That bitch. That’s X6 in a nutshell. That’s how you write X6. I’m not even going to get into the racist ass portrayals of X6 because fuck is it tiring, just gonna leave you with this; X6 is best when you see his character for the humor and genuinely interesting philosophies in it, and not when you see him as a BDSM hardcore porn big dick sex god dominant daddy who likes spanking. 

[unordinary-diary]

I’ve gotten no asks yet so thank you @coldinfluencerbeliever for volunteering! I’m not entirely sure if you meant to participate in the ask game because this is a statement and not a question, but you’re the only one with your hand up so you’ve been called on.

You’re absolutely right! Jane never being captured totally changes John’s entire story. That is the basis for this au:

Jane Was Never Captured AU

Okay so, we don’t know much about Jane, but I’m certain she wouldn’t have tolerated her son being bullied. At this point, there’s no telling whether Jane is above beating up middle-schoolers or not, but even if she is, she’d have gone to the school’s administration, or even the bullies’ parents, and raised hell. Unlike William, Jane has the power and influence to actually do something about the bullying.

This means that while I imagine John still got bullied, and his friends probably more so, John wouldn’t be completely helpless to stop it since he has his mom backing him. His mistreatment would be lessened, and his resentment and anger wouldn’t have built up nearly as badly. While his ability developed, Jane would be giving him guidance that William couldn’t, including teaching him to use his power responsibly. And even if he still went down the same dark path, Jane would be there to smack some sense into him like Seraphina was in mid- season 2. (It’s entirely possible that Jane is too gentle for that, but regardless, I highly doubt that the New Bostin Massacre would have happened in this AU.)

Therefore, in the Jane Was Never Captured AU, John doesn’t go full reign-of-terror, doesn’t get expelled from New Bostin, doesn’t go to readjustment, doesn’t go to Wellston, isn’t involved with the main plot at all, and most importantly: UnOrdinary by W. H. Doe never gets written.

So... it’s possible that Rei never became a superhero. However, I actually prefer the idea that he did anyway, and he was just the first/one of the first/one of very few. But with superheroes being pretty much unheard of (either just Rei or Rei and very few others), EMBER wouldn’t have been created.

So, yeah. The Jane Was Never Captured AU intertwines with the Rei Never Dies AU. It’s basically an add-on, I suppose. Or a branch of it? They’re not really the same AU, but Rei also lives in the JWNCAU.

But uhhh, yeah! John with Jane in his life is basically just a much healthier John. Which, if you think about it, is essentially just Blyke but better at lying, worse at school, plus some hair dye. (These two are so fucking similar it’s been EATING my brain)

The JWNCAU is essentially a catch-all fix-it au, but not entirely, because it means John never gets involved with Wellston. John was also responsible for a lot of the good that happens in the story— without him, the other main characters don’t get their character development. Remi, Blyke and Isen could probably get theirs some other way, but Arlo and Seraphina needed John in order to grow.

This au tears down the whole story and files it down to a blank slate. The parameters for what gets built on that slate is basically: find another way for John and Seraphina to meet, and find some other way for Arlo, Remi, Blyke and Isen to get their character development. That’s the sandbox we’re playing in.

When I was brainstorming this au with my brother, he basically said that “The problem with this au is that it changes so much, I don’t even know where to go with it.” Which... true. But there are SO. MANY. Directions to take this au into. I’m thinking of them as I’m typing.

Anyway, my ask box is open if you want more.

[stobinesque]

Make Me Write: SNIPPET

The people have spoken and the people want Jeff to be Steve's bisexual awakening! I now have ~1.7k words written of this fic that had previously been a vague outline in the back of my head. Full disclosure, though: the "awakening" part of this is going to take a good long while for our beloved Steve.

I'm tagging everyone who explicitly requested this for WIP Wednesday (I counted each request as 3 additional sentences to my total count). But I'm going to hang onto the asks and use them for future motivation!

SNIPPET BELOW!

The return to school is a rocky one. The worst of the bruising has faded, and Steve can finally make it through most of a day reasonably alert—at home, at least. But there’s still a persistent ache throughout his whole body, and the fluorescent lights at Hawkins High are suddenly audible in a way he doesn’t remember them being just a couple weeks ago. About halfway through second period he develops a splitting headache that only gets worse as the hours tick by, and he feels seconds away from losing a breakfast he didn’t eat.

And that’s just the physical stuff. Returning to the social feeding frenzy of a small-town high school stuffed with teens with nothing to do than stick their noses all the way up the asses of everyone around them after getting his lights knocked out by the shiny new guy… Max may have knocked Billy out, but Billy’s not the one who had to take a week and a half off. Billy’s not the one with yellowing bruises splashed across his face. Billy’s had time to fashion himself a little amateur PR campaign, with Tommy Hagan as his own personal town crier.

It’s not like Steve had any particular interest in continuing to hover at the periphery of the circles he’d once been the ringleader of. But with Nancy tucked firmly into Jonathan’s side, and staunchly avoiding his gaze, and without the blandly polite interest of any of his other “friends,” Steve is just…adrift.

And on top of all of that, somehow a grade 3 concussion has not managed him a get out of jail free card for the stack of problem sets, papers, and tests he missed while he was out. Steve’s not totally convinced that a couple teachers didn’t tack on additional assignments out of spite.

“Mr. Harrington.”

Steve freezes with one foot in Mr. Donovan’s classroom. “Yes?”

“You’ll be making up the test you missed at the end of last week.”

“Didn’t I also miss the lessons for that test?”

“It’s not my fault if you didn’t have someone to take notes for you while you were away.”

“Away? I had a concussion.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll think twice before getting up to whatever nonsense resulted in that unfortunate accident again. But that does not change the fact that you have a test you need take before you can continue in this class.”

Steve works his jaw, tempted to pull out the ‘my parents will be hearing about this’ card. He probably could get his mom to kick up enough of a fuss to get him out of the test. If he played his cards right, he might even manage to rile his dad enough to get Mr. Donovan fired. But either option was a devil’s bargain, and Steve has had quite enough of hell and its denizens to last himself at least two lifetimes.

Steve swallows down a retort—if he’s not going to try to manipulate his way out of this he’s certainly not going to dig his hole any deeper—and crosses to the front of the room to grab the test from Mr. Donovan’s hand.

***

Almost all of the tables in the small library are full by the time Steve shuffles through the door right on the heel of the final bell. The only one free is the rickety wooden table near the back that has one leg about half an inch too short that always wobbles whenever someone so much as looks at it. Steve sighs, but he resigns himself to sneaking a book thin enough to wedge under the table leg off the shelf while Mrs. Miller is looking away.

A minute later, Steve is cycling through a large stack of very small books when he’s startled by someone speaking from behind him. “I’d go with The Awakening.”

“Huh?” Steve doesn’t even turn around, singularly focused as he is on making this table passably usable for taking the goddamn Chemistry test.

“The Awakening? Kate Chopin? Perfect profile for wedging under there.”

Steve scans the spines of his pile until he spots the book. Fishing it out, he sees that there is a small indent on the front cover that looks suspiciously similar to the shape of the table feet. Sure enough, it settles into place easily, and winks the wobble into nonexistence.

“Perfect, thank you.” Steve finally turns enough to catch sight of his savior. It’s another kid from Donovan’s fifth period Chemistry, but Steve can’t recall his name. If he puts his mind to it and casts back far and wide, he can maybe conjure an image of a darker-skinned teen sitting at the same cafeteria table as Eddie freaking Munson, but there’s a strong chance Steve’s just extrapolating based on the fact that the guy is currently wearing one of the silly “Hellfire Club” t-shirts. Not that knowing his extracurriculars helps at all with remembering what to call him. Steve’s never been the best at names and faces, but he’s starting to think Billy knocked something loose up there when he knocked him out (that’s basically what a concussion is, right?), because he can usually at least come up with some vague impression of a sound even if it’s off. His head is totally blank on this one.

Trying to recall the guy’s name just leaves him awkwardly staring into the middle distance, though. So when Hellfire Guy drops into one of the chairs at the table, it startles him into following suit. Hellfire Guy drops an identical packet to Steve’s on the table.

“You too?” Steve asks.

Hellfire Guy just kind of stares at him with a confused smile. “Why’d you think I was here during our shared class, Harrington?”

Steve flushes. “I didn’t really think before I spoke, to be honest.”

“Well at least you’re honest.” His new tablemate flashes a more genuine grin. “I was out with strep last week. Frankie grabbed my assignments for me, so I just have to make up this stupid test.”

Steve nods, pretending to know who Frankie is, and refusing to wish that he’d had someone willing to grab his assignments while he’d been out. It’s not like he could have done anything about them when he was sleeping two-thirds of the day away.

Steve settles at the table, and as he moves to start writing his name at the top of the page, he realizes that’s the perfect way to figure out Hellfire Guy’s name without seeming like a total jackass. He flicks his eyes across the table to try to catch a glimpse of what the other kid is writing. But Steve’s ability to parse other people’s handwriting is lackluster on a good day. Throwing in the additional obstacles of trying to read something upside down from a foot away and he may as well be trying to read French. He can’t get even a halfway decent look without having to strain himself awkwardly—which he nearly does, forgetting that the whole point of this exercise was to be discreet.

Hellfire Guy looks up to meet Steve’s gaze, and he looks a tad irked. “You trying to cheat off of me, Harrington?”

“No, no, I—” Steve cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember your name,” he says. The Steve of a year ago wouldn’t even care about whether or not he knew some nerd’s name. He doesn’t want to be that guy anymore, and yet he’s still right here in the same exact place. Only now he does care, and the fact that he can’t remember the name of a guy who’s sat two rows over from him for the last three and a half months is just embarrassing. “But I didn’t want you to think—” Steve blows out a sharp breath. “It seemed stupid to ask.”

Hellfire Guy blinks. “My name’s Jeff,” he says, without any hint of judgment or annoyance shading his tone. Jeff tilts his head and looks at Steve with an intent sort of squinting look. “Hargrove really did a number on you, huh?”

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t been expecting that response. “Yeah.” He paints a charming smile onto his face. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “We should probably stop talking before Mrs. Miller starts to think we are cheating.”

Jeff opens his mouth as though to say something, but then glances over the front desk. Mrs. Miller is talking to another student, but rather than call Steve out on his obvious deflection he just shrugs and returns to working on his own test. Steve lets out a slow steady exhale of relief and continues working on his own.

It doesn’t take long for the headache that’s been building all day to bloom into something distractingly painful. Even if parts of the test didn’t reference material that he entirely missed while he was out, all of the questions about stuff that he does recognize are about things he’s been struggling to grasp. The multiple choice section was fine—even if he’s not particularly confident he knows the answers to more than three of the questions, at least he can just guess and move on. But he’s thoroughly stuck on the segment of the test where he has to balance equations.

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve jolts in his seat and looks up at Jeff, who’s staring at him with what Steve takes to be genuine concern—as out of place as that should be on a nerdy junior whose name he didn’t know remember less than thirty minutes ago. Beyond that—what was Steve doing that even prompted Jeff to ask? “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Dude, you’re ripping your hair out, and you sound like a dying lawnmower.”

Steve immediately drops the hand that he didn’t realize had been tugging at his roots from his head, and flushes red. Maybe Billy punched a few holes through his filter while he was doing his best to cave his face in. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You stuck on something?”

Steve scoffs a bit. “All of it.” He runs a hand through his hair again, but this time to try to reverse some of the damage. “I hate balancing equations.”

Tagging: @eriquin @inairbinad @delta-piscium @steventhusiast @bifuriouswaterbender @xenon-demon @steves-strapcollection @spicysix

[dearinglovebot]

How did you feel about dominion? For me the movie I enjoyed it but I also feel like it lacked something. I’m not sure if that’s because I’m a fan of Maisie and I feel her character did not really have what I hoped she’d go through (I wanted to see her turmoil of how she felt about Dino’s being free) but it just felt like something was lacking, like I love the movie but I’m not quite sure what that missing piece is

the missing piece is the characters. alan and ellie are the only main cast characters who felt like they were properly written.

owen fundamentally did nothing to serve the plot beyond being maisie’s parent and claire’s husband. which isn’t a bad thing, because it’s claire and maisie’s story. but you could easily cut him out of the movie without much changing which is a sign that they should’ve done something different.

the same goes with ian. he and ramsay serve fundamentally the same purpose and neither is particularly given time to shine. you’re left asking: what was the point of spending so much time with this character? he doesn’t add much observation about dinosaurs on the mainland nor the locusts, which is what made his role worth it in jurassic park.

I’m okay with kayla’s arc being saved for another movie because that’s clearly what they were interested in doing. the same with soyona. but with JW4, that doesn’t seem to be where they’re planning to go. which makes their addition less meaningful in hindsight.

dodgson is a severely underused villain. his most villainous scene was cut out of the movie and only included in the extended cut. why? you could replace him with any unnamed villain and his role wouldn’t fundamentally change. there’s nothing special about biosyn. what makes biosyn better or worse than ingen? their evil is left purely to the subtext of the famine they caused. we don’t know how many people that feminine could’ve killed. we don’t know the ramifications. it’s all so ambiguous that it feels useless.

claire and maisie are who I feel like we’re done the dirtiest by dominion though. the charlotte twist was cheap. they weren’t willing to commit to maisie having a very unnatural and sad creation story. instead, they introduce new technology that is not properly elaborated on. and this twist does a major disservice to the adoption plot of maisie and claire. more emphasis is put on charlotte “truly loving her” than claire actively being her mother. her biology is seen as more important than her adoptive, loving family.

maisie doesn’t have to learn to love herself despite her origin because they retconned it in a way where she didn’t have to. where is the emotional impact of that? where is the pay off? nor does she ever visibly think about the consequences of dinosaurs on the mainland. she isn’t actually faced with any moral dilemma over it. we don’t know if she regrets it or believes what she did was right. we learn nothing about her, except about her biology. nothing about the status quo fundamentally changes, either. people are still hunting maisie for her genetics. she’s still in danger of being kidnapped everyday when she leaves the cabin. there’s no resolution to anything that the previous movies set up.

and claire… ohh she’s the same way. like maisie, her story is left half finished. we have no idea if she’s going to get a new job or where she’s going to end up after dominion. we don’t know if her family speaks to her, if they’ve met maisie, if she’s giving up vigilante justice for good to prioritize her family, etc. It’s absolutely not an ending for her or maisie. it’s a very strange middle chapter that’s been advertised as an ending. I truly believe 90% of dominions problems could’ve been avoided if it was more character centric

[intermundia]

As a queer person living in conservative, rural America, and as a Star Wars fan who posts about the Jedi Order, my thoughts are frequently turned to the concept of family, and what it means in different cultures. I’ve written a longish (1k words) post about this lmao, so I will put it beneath the cut, but it unpacks a lot of assumptions that are frequently made in discussion of the Jedi.

The ideology of the family where I live is closely related to patriarchy, individualism, and property rights. The narrative of the ideal family life is this: a man falls in love with a woman and courts her until she agrees to marriage. When they marry, they become one person, or rather the man acquires a helpmeet, and the woman legally loses her personhood, becoming Mr and Mrs X. She is now a larger part of the man’s personhood, and any children they have are also inside that umbrella. They are his property, not individuals in themselves. This is why conservatives resent public school and free access to information, as they are interfering with his right to maintain his property the way he wants them. Once the children are grown, the cycle continues, the son finding a wife, etc. That is a certain kind of ideal of society. The idea of sending a child to the church to be raised, is kind of like sending a valuable, heirloom cup to be used by the community, it’s hypothetically a meritorious sacrifice to god, but the cup still really belongs to the family. It belongs at home. If the child grows up to join the church, it’s something that happens later, during the transition from being property to being an individual.

This is not a universal or necessary mode of life.

In a different culture, where a child is born and is understood already to be a member of the wider community that is being raised by their parents, the idea of allowing an institution to adopt and take over raising the child is not a violation of some man’s property rights. In a culture where there is a temple that is an honorable place, where being a monk is a livelihood that is respected and important, something that parents would wish for their child to experience, it is more of a privilege to get your child into that place where they can become an important figure in the community. The parents would miss the child, that is universal, but there would also be a sense of relief for them, to know that they’ve gotten access to a stable future that they can be proud of, especially if they were in a situation where they couldn’t guarantee that child an equally stable and important future. With the force-gifted Jedi this is even more stark; their powers should be trained and directed for their own good too. Growing up communally at a temple is a different kind of family, where there is a sense of brother and sisterhood, with teachers and elders making up a dense web of social relationships. It is a different life, but not a worse one.

The conservative American ideology is something that I have felt my entire life to be very closed and full of the potential for abuse behind closed doors. A child is not a person and is not treated like one, and a wife is not a person either. The only individuals are the men who own these families. It’s a system that I yearn for relief and escape from, and so of course I am drawn to the Jedi, an imaginary culture that is based on real values held by real cultures outside of my own. I know there are places in the world where sending a child to the temple is an honorable and good thing. I know that the Jedi think of each other as family, it’s well attested in canon and legends content. It’s not abusive or wrong for those children to be raised in that communal culture, just because it’s different from the norms of individualistic, patriarchal values. Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Just like being a queer person, who doesn’t fit into the system of romantic pairing and nuclear families, being different doesn’t mean being wrong.

People raised with the conservative ideology think the absence of romantic love is inherently abusive, but if you were raised to prioritize other things, would you miss it as much as if you were raised to chase it? Is it not a worthy effort to dedicate your life to serving other people? It may be difficult, but it’s not a life without love. Jedi have romantic feelings, they’re not forbidden, but they are deprioritzed. It’s not the ultimate goal of life, but rather more of a distraction from a very noble duty. Many, many people in the world choose that path. The Jedi aren’t jailers, we have examples of people leaving when they couldn’t walk that path, but most stay, because they have an important role to play in the wider galaxy and a great use of their potential. Anakin wanted to stay so that he could have the status and power of a ranking member of the Jedi Order, but he also wanted to have private property, possessing other people and controlling their destiny. You can’t have both. I think the story of the prequels and the path of the Jedi are both fascinating because they push against the cultural norm toward romance and patriarchal individualism. It’s just nice to have something that says you can find home with friends and mentors, and meaning with duty and service. It’s important to me on a very personal level.

[anotherkindofmindpod]

(deep breath in) Thank you so much for this episode. Really outstanding. Also you are going to get me fired because I did this instead of working. :)

So, the dive into the question of Jim’s corporal punishment and how it is framed has really gotten to me. Apologies for the rant.

I think ML acknowledging the corporal punishment in the way he does is actually quite revealing—a little bit about him, but this is also a generational thing.

He knows it’s a topic other writers have brought up and he (however reluctantly) accepts that it has played enough of a part in the Beatles book world that he must at least touch on it. But he chooses to do so in as glancing a way as possible and with a nod to Mike’s comic narrative voice. Yes, there was physical punishment in this house, but it’s the 1940s/50s and that’s the way it was and we (including the kids involved) can all look back on it with rueful humor.

And look, I get it. Mike’s comic candor in the 1960s places his and Paul’s experiences squarely in a long tradition of what I think of as “bragging rights” stories of childhood crime and punishment. My experience of my own older relatives aligns with how Mike narrates what to us are pretty awful events. The stories people in my parents’ and grandparents’ generation would tell—and tell laughing—about what outrageous things they did as kids to get themselves into trouble and how awful the punishments could be, were many and varied. The more ridiculous the hijinks, the worse the punishment, the better the bragging rights.

I’m guessing like most people of their class and generation, Paul and Mike grew up with a kind of affectionate “it sucks when the grownups start hitting, but meh, that’s life, amirite?” attitude they would have picked up from members of their own family and from their peers. 95% of all stories dealing with corporal punishment written or told before 1960 reflect that attitude. Mike narrates their childhood stories in exactly that vein. Paul does too in a limited way: but only about his teachers (who are outside the family circle of loyalty that you rightly point out).

All of which is to say—and you make this point in the episode but I want to emphasize it here as well—that it is doubtful that any concept of abuse or of equating anything that went on in their home with abusive behavior ever entered their heads at the time—which to me is why Mike can talk about it in the way he does and why Paul doesn’t mind him telling those stories. I think it’s less (at least in the 60s/70s) about either Paul or Mike trying to slip information to the rest of the world than it is a genuine belief that these are amusing and typical stories.

The quote you offer about Ringo from 2015 being surprised to discover that his childhood was not as rosy as he remembered it is hugely instructive. Even after experiencing a lifetime of better conditions, it still took an outside perspective to make him reconsider how he’d framed events and circumstances. To apply this to the McCartney family, Jim’s reliance on corporal punishment was standard, so already the kids are going to frame his behavior as normal. If his actions were in any way different or more extreme than other parents, how could they judge that? This was the water everyone was swimming in at the time.

To be clear: I’m not saying that there is an “acceptable” level of corporal punishment and if we can say that Jim stuck to that level, then everything’s cool by 1950s standards and we should leave it there. But I think that’s exactly what Tune In IS saying. I think ML uses Mike’s comic tone as evidence for how not-a-big-deal this aspect of their childhood was which gives him permission to sidestep it. And if earlier Beatles writers spent time detailing Jim’s actions, then they, like Mike, are utilizing the stories for a touch of period charm, not to take a deeper or more nuanced look at Paul’s childhood. And he’s right. It isn’t like previous authors framed this as a Topic, just colorful background.

So, ML chooses to nod to the fact that previous writers have dealt with this, but since we in the 21st century don’t find stories about children being beaten nearly as “cute” as earlier generations did, he eschews going into detail, perhaps thinking that by not including these details he’s being tactful (like it is retroactively embarrassing to Mike and Paul that we know these things), or at least reflecting a more modern sensibility.

But as you point out, this is where we run into trouble. We DO know these things. Can’t un-know them. And we have the advantage of years of research on the adverse effects of corporal punishment that tell us there is no “acceptable” level of violence against children. And yes, while both Mike and Paul make light of this topic in the 60s and 70s in their different ways, we also have the fact that Paul brought it up in a more complex way in discussing his “showdown” with his dad. Whatever they felt at the time, isn’t it worth exploring how either the people in this history or how society at large view this topic NOW? Isn’t the advantage of writing a book about past events that you can explore these experiences in a larger context?

Late WWII / Boomers are a tricky generation on the question of corporal punishment. A lot of them grew up in homes where this was common, silently certain they would not use physical violence as parents themselves but also absolutely not thinking of what they experienced as potentially damaging. And they would be offended on their parents’ behalf if you framed it that way. If I were to guess, I suspect that’s where Paul and Mike live—and perhaps a lot of readers in that generation? I may be being presumptuous here—in that weird headspace where you get to the point where you have enough perspective to know a loved one’s actions were Wrong but to hang a weighty label like “abusive” on that person or on their actions feels equally, perhaps profoundly, Wrong. If nothing else, it exposes that person to a characterization you maybe don’t want them to have. And for outsiders to do so is just going to shut down the conversation.

I think ML is absolutely right in his overall takeway that in the end Paul’s view of his family settles into one of a safe and stable place. It is where he feels loved and known as “Paul MacCartney” instead of “him.” I think overall, the support system they provided (and still do) gave him more emotional resources to draw on than John had when they faced similar tragedies. And Jim is not a villain in this story. One of my favorite early Beatles stories is Jim bringing Paul lunch sometimes at the Cavern Club—it's such a sweet dad thing to do. Jim is good people. Most of the time.

But the idea that it was always that simple, or that getting to that place of security wasn’t a journey with failures and pitfalls and significant effort, is demonstrably a failure to engage with the facts as we know them. And it denies Paul (and Jim for that matter) the “reality” of growth and struggle and change.

(deep breath out)

Thanks for this, Anon! We've already said plenty in the ep, so we've nothing to add to your great commentary here. Thanks for listening! ❤️

[ouatsnark]

OOC Fanfic Reaction take 3

Welcome to another round of “What the hell did that Regina Apologist just write!” where I react to crazy out of character fanfics!

I just find it easier to lump all of these together so I apologize if you don't get a notification that your "what the hell did I just read" rant was responded to.

Anonymous asked: Oh goodness your post about dad Hook and how Henry cared about him made me think of a horrible fic I read on here once. Hook made Henry his best man. Good right? WRONG. Because this person made Henry act like a brat who was willing to ruin his mom's wedding by shit talking Hook in his speech. I don't remember much else about it but it was from Henry's pov and it horrified me.

First off, Henry would never do that to Emma. He is the one who put aside his feelings (come on, what kid is 100% cool with their parent dating for the first time) and gave Emma his blessing to ask Killian out on a date. Henry knows that Killian makes Emma happy. No way would Henry do this and embarrass Emma like that.

Anonymous asked: RAs are so delusional. saw a fic where regina confronts hook about him having a hand in her torture and that she's apologized and tried to redeem herself for her crimes and he gets a pass cause he's a pretty pirate (don't RAs do the same for her cause she's hot lol?) and that he forced emma to go back to sb in s7 when I recall it was emma's choice and she didn't even wanna respect emma's wishes of telling henry about her pregnancy when her and hook were rescuing henry in the wish realm. wtf

Yes, Regina 100% gets a pass from that fandom because they think she is hot. They refuse to even acknowledge that Regina was being tortured by her own victim or that Regina had just tried to murder Killian or that Regina was plotting to murder everyone and then they lie about Regina apologizing. Regina has never apologized. Worse yet, she doesn’t even regret it.

If Killian needs to apologize to Regina for leaving her to her victim then she needs to apologize for everything she has done to him and the others. The idea that everyone needs to apologize to Regina, their abuser, just makes me so indignant. Like, no. Your favorite is a POS please start writing her to reflect this.

And yes, Emma didn’t want to tell Henry at first…. I guess because she didn’t want him to worry or give up his quest? And Regina was about to spill the beans (probably cause she thought it would be bring him home to her, who knows). The idea that Killian was forcing Emma to return is absolutely insane. She was pregnant. What the hell did they want her to do? SHE IS PREGNANT. Have the baby in the middle of the fake Enchanted Forest? FFS. She needed to go back to Storybook and Henry needed to find his story. HE DID NOT need either of his mothers with him. He was a grown boy.

Anonymous asked: read a fic where regina yells at emma for leaving her in the wish realm with adult henry to go have her replacement family and how she had to cast another curse alone and how she was there for all his adult milestones while emma was decorating her nursey with snow???? sorry if emma doesn't wanna follow her grown ass son around for the rest of her life and esp while pregnant. i hate sqs with a passion they blame emma for all the issues that happened

PLEASE tell me someone has written a story where Emma confronts Regina about being too co-dependent on Henry when Regina doesn’t have a man in her life? Cause that would be way more fitting! And then I want to know if the people who write that garbage also write fics where they take Hope away from Killian and give her to Regina? How is that not a replacement family to them? Oh wait because it’s Regina doing the replacing. Duh.

Emma did not replace Henry. The end.

Anonymous asked: saw a fic where is shows how regina should've showed up to new york instead of hook, lol alright how would that even work and y'all assume regina cares that much Anonymous asked: follow up to one my previous asks i read more of that regina in place of hook ny fic and they write him extremely ooc him just wanting to get into emmas pants, being pushy, and even the charmings nudge her toward him cause he traded his ship for her and emma is like "i'm not indebted him i tried out kissing him in neverland" i don't care. the charmings aren't even team killian til like season 6 and it's like RAs don't get the point of the ship trading plot….he didn't even tell anyone that

PLEASE tell me she tried a TLK that failed? Guys you gotta give me more details. P.S. Regina didn’t care. She was too busy mourning the fact that she no longer had Henry to love her and was falling in love with her handbag

The RAs really gotta be out there playing brain dead over the simplest things. Killian Jones purposefully didn’t tell her about trading his HOME to get to Emma because he did not want that gesture to sway her opinion of him. He wanted her to get to see the real him or even the him that he was becoming. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d win her heart but not out of any trickery!

Anonymous asked: sqs love hc killian as a cheater in all of their fics but the thing is is that that's so ooc like he turned down a pre-paid hooker because he was so in love with emma, he'd rather die than cheat on her like

THIS. ALL OF THIS. But who is the canon cheater? Regina Mills.

Anonymous asked: saw a sq edit on youtube and why did they blur out baby hope and killian at the coronation #%$^U&^%&$^^I*O( WHAT KIND OF HATEFUL PERSON BLURS OUT A CHILD???

OK technically not a fanfic but a video edit is sort of a story.

They blurred her out I guess because they couldn’t figure out a way to make it look like Hope was SQ’s. Though, I’ve heard enough of them try to refer to Hook as their babysitter. Ridiculous.

Anonymous asked: saw a s5 au fic where when emma becomes the dark one and snow gives regina the dagger cause she knows regina will do the right thing and hook has a temper tatrum over it cause again the ooc thing but regina was always taking advantage of it when they were in camelot

Why does Snow have to give Regina the dagger? What kind of craziness is this? I thought they loved that Emma gives Regina the dagger because it “shows how much Emma trusts Regina.” Yes. TO KILL HER. Yet it goes over their heads that Emma knows that Killian would never be able to harm her but Regina would.

Killian wouldn’t have even taken the dagger. He’d have given it back to Emma.

Anonymous asked: reading a fic where adult hope is trying to do a spell and regina is in the back calling her useless when it doesn't work and hope snaps back "well what's your big plan what do you have to contribute besides complaining and bitchy comebacks cause that's not gonna help us your majesty." I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING CAUSE WHY IS SHE ME I LOVE HOW THEY WROTE HER WITH A BACKBONE

YES! All hail whomever wrote this! All of the characters should have done this more with Regina because her attitude was literally a drag.

Anonymous asked: people who write killian abusing emma fics and then running to regina for help/comfort it's getting weird

I am beginning to think it is a fetish. They love to validate their feelings that men are bad and Regina really is a saint. Was there ever a single scene of her comforting anyone? Regina’s idea of comforting is calling someone an idiot and asserting her authority. So if Regina was written in character for this she’d be telling Emma “well, you were dumb enough to marry him. Grow up and leave him already.”

But it will always be canon that Killian Jones was the one to wipe away Emma’s tears and offer her comfort and words of encouragement.

[dansconcepts]

Megamind Komahina AU (MegaLuck)

I saw this post on Youtube by @/Mcdonalds-Qiqi and I was like I should 100% write about this. And that's what I did. It's not done, like, at all, but it's prob the longest thing I've ever written (6000 words is a lot for me). I rewatched Megamind for it and that was a fun watch and YES this is 100% just Megamind but with Komahina flavouring so have a little taste with some scenes under the cut.

(Also this wasn't gonna be my first writing post but I mean I'm silly at heart sometimes yknow.)

If someone asked Komaeda how he was doing, he’d usually respond with “Fine, but I’m sure my luck will kick in at some point.” Had they asked him now, he’d say, “Ah, I’m fine” and not dwell any further on what would be considered quite an unlucky day. Alas, good luck will surely come out of this, even if his body is used as a vessel to do so. 

Falling from a high depth does not feel like flying. 

It just feels like falling from a high altitude, and an instinctive part of himself still wants to salvage this, remain alive even after losing essentially everything. He always loses everything in the end, doesn’t he? This is something he’s prepared for his entire life. Yet, of course, it still doesn’t seem to curb that jolt of displeasure that permeates through his body, the uncertainty in knowing that you want to cling and push everything away at the same time just to preserve your… emotions, fickle as they are. [But he’s the reason he’s here, after all].

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When it came down to it, he was lucky to live, even if that luck is substantiated by losing his parents and meeting the other that had everything given to him on a silver platter. 

He and Naegi weren’t in the same class, but whenever his luck struck, Makoto was there to stop it, and everyone blamed him for the bad things that happened. He couldn’t hate them for it either. He blames himself too.

Some people don't really believe in such unseeable forces. Yet how else could he explain a plane going rogue, and being the only living being to see the terrible aftermath of it? Of experiencing being kidnapped, and being able to get out of that? Who else could it be besides Lady Luck?

Yet he is grateful to her. Otherwise, how else would he be rich? Be smart of mind, besides being tainted in health? He should be grateful...

He should be.

But he looks at his arm and only speaks to the metal that is there, the little characters on the screen being his only company. Everyone else stares at the teacher pointing at the board toward something he figured out already, when he last snuck a glance at it anyway. Now, he's left with his familiar position of facing brown wallpaper. It's a very boring brown. It's worse when he has to hear his classmates talking about him. They're all so void of doing anything useful.

"Can we pwease pwease pwease do something?! This is, like, soooo boring!"

The class hushes her, along with her fellow companion on the screen. Indeed, his classmates would be more useful in another way. They're so predictable.

In a quieter tone, the pink-haired girl looks up from the console in her hands to say, "You can go play the quiet game, Junko. That'll surely entertain you, I think." And immediately looks back down. Junko squawks her protests. He wonders if Chiaki is actually playing a game, or if the sprite's just for show.

Nagito hums. The AI instantly blinks at him, crossing her arms. "The fuck? What's got you looking so happy?"

"Hope is going to be plentiful today."

"What the hell's that supposed to mea-"

BOOM!

"OH HELL YEAH!"

"JUNKO!!!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime blearily opens his eyes. Light blinds his vision, and he blinks it away. As it clears, fluffy white hair and pale skin greet him, a white T-shirt hanging loosely off their thin frame. Their long eyelashes frame the entrancing evergreen eyes, with a foggy dreaminess melting into him. Is this an angel?

"Oh, you're awake." The voice says. 

Who...? "Leave me alone."

The person steps back. "Sorry, I'm not about to do that when you look that tired. Are you okay? You seem pretty out of it."

He stares outside. There's a beautiful moon out, and again, no stars. Typical. "...It's been a rough day." He cuddles the soft fabric closer. So nice and warm-

Wait... soft fabric?

He immediately looks down to the dark green clothing in his hand.

"Oh, yeah, you started shivering so I just gave you my sweater. You're free to keep it if you want."

His face burns, and he wordlessly tosses the sweater back. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Who are you? I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else besides Touko."

The pale man's smile turns serene. "Ah, I’m new, I started a while back. I’m helping Touko clear out some essentials since the building is getting renovations. It should be happening fairly soon, so let’s get out of here, shall we?"

"Really?" He doesn't recall anything like that happening, but he wouldn't be surprised considering Naegi is...

"Alright, I’ll come with you."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Junko. Where the hell is Komaeda?" Hajime snarls.

Now, Nagito knows he should say something to that, but… He said my name.

"Uh…" He stutters. 

"Junko! Don't hurt him!" He hears his own voice say. He looks to his arm, where Junko's sprite sends a cheeky wink. He should probably figure out when she decided to record his voice later...

Unfortunately for him, Hajime only glares at him harder. "I will not fucking hesitate, you bitch! Let him go!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime’s taking quite a while. He doesn’t resent it, he shall wait however long he needs to, but this is a little unusual for him. If anything, Hajime’s quite punctual. He can’t even talk to Junko or Chiaki, since they seem to have closed off their connection with him.

The reporter finally shows up, a little messy. His ahoge is more limp than normal. He swiftly pulls the velvet chair to sit on. "God, sorry I'm late Komaeda." He huffs.

"Oh, it's no worries, Hinata-kun. I understand why you might not have wanted to come for trash like m-"

"No! It's not that!" He's quickly met with. The white-haired man easily smiles. So easy. The frown turns into a pout. "Oh, you're teasing me again."

"Haha, sorry. It's really fun." Hajime opens his mouth to protest. Ah, can't have that. "What happened?" He shoots out.

The other's mouth shuts closed. Olive eyes stare him down warily, and he tilts his head. The look is 100% his we're not done with this topic but I'm dropping it because you really love doing this shit, yet he really just wants to know what has Hajime so disheveled. If someone hurt him-

Hajime immediately dives into what happened within the past few hours, being tossed around by Fragment and how Fragment's his best friend while he's left with dread pooling within him.

"I love him, I do, but right now he really doesn't need these powers. The last thing he needs is another reason to feel perfect for Sonia. I’ve been trying to help him deal with rejection, but this really… really fucked with him. And shit went down."

Why would Fragment attack Hinata-kun, this wasn't meant to happen-

Hajime shuts his eyes. He rubs his temples. "I'd rather not deal with all this. Let's just eat."

He resists the urge to bite his lip. The temptation to comfort is so high, but knowing he was the cause of it...

Furrowed eyes meet his gaze, and soften. He gulps. A tanned hand reaches out, and he reaches out his own-

For his glass.

"To you, Komaeda, for being the not insane part of my life right now." Hajime grins, lifting his cup in the air.

Komaeda chuckles politely. If only you knew.

"I'm always happy to be with you, Hajime."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[He's hoping to get lucky one last time.]

“Providing hope… feels pretty good.”

[coraniaid]

Bad Eggs regularly shows up close to the top of lists of the worst episodes the show ever aired, and has done so pretty consistently for a very long time.

To cite just a handful of examples: 

it’s currently the fourth worst episode on IMDB by user rating  

it was ranked eleventh worst in this 2023 list from Rolling Stone 

it was ranked as the single worst episode on this list from Paste Magazine in the same year (quote: “there’s literally nothing good about this episode”)  

it was ranked ninth worst on this 2017 list from Vox 

it was ranked second worst on this 2013 list from BuzzFeed 

So obviously quite a lot of people really don’t like it.

And I’ve never really understood why that is.  In my view, Bad Eggs is … basically fine? A bit boring, sure.  A bit inconsequential in the grander scheme of the season.  A bit awkwardly written in places, with some clunky dialogue and some plotting choices that could have done with a rewrite or three. Underwhelming. But, yes,  basically fine.

The worst episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are so very much worse than this.  I wish I lived in a reality where this was the worst episode of the show.

During this rewatch alone I’ve already sat through at least two episodes that are significantly, qualitatively worse than Bad Eggs, as well as four or five episodes where I suspect you could make the case either way.  And before this season is over I will have watched two more episodes that are definitely worse, too.  Off the top of my head, there are at least two worse episodes next season too.  And at least two more in every season after that.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I could name a couple of dozen worse episodes than this one without much trouble.

But yeah, it’s not great.

(And yet somehow I'm not finished talking about it.)

Beyond the obvious bit of foreshadowing (“sex can have negative consequences!” a teacher reminds a health class that Buffy’s unfortunately absent from, one episode before Buffy is destined to discover for herself that sex can indeed have negative consequences), the thing that I always remember about this episode is the way that same health class teacher – whose name is Mr Whitmore, we’ll learn later – explains how the egg-raising project he’s setting his students will work.

“You will split into parenting teams.  You and your partner will share equally in the daily task of raising your egg.  Now, please choose a partner.”

Note the words in bold.  The kids will be raising their eggs in partnerships.  Let’s make a note of this for future reference.  It seems to be important!

Well, it is.  Sort of.  Until it isn’t. 

You see, the episode sets things up like this for exactly two reasons.

The first is to have Xander and Cordelia very deliberately not partner up, showing us that … oh, look, sorry, I can’t pretend to take the Xander/Cordelia subplot seriously and I won’t even try.  It’s just very silly.  They both have very weird and conflicting feelings about their nascent relationship for reasons that boil down to this: it simply doesn’t make any sense.  Let’s move on.

The second and, I think, primary reason for the partnership set-up is so that Buffy can find out she wasn’t assigned a partner of her own (there are an odd number of students in the class). On finding this out, Buffy laments that she is now “a single mother … doomed to live my mother’s life”.  

In fact, the episode is so keen for Buffy to reach this conclusion that she initially assumes she has been assigned a partner.  Even before anybody tells her the assignment was structured that way. Even though Buffy wasn’t in class to be told about it, and even though her only reaction on being shown the egg in question was befuddlement.  

Buffy is presented with the egg, assumes it must be some sort of “fairly abstract” punishment, and on being told that she has to take care of it immediately realizes that this is the sort of hard work that can only be done by a team of two.  “My partner ... who did I get?” she asks hopefully.  Well, okay, I guess. Maybe that’s how Mr Whitmore sets up all his assignments.

In any case, we know that these are the only two reasons the egg assignment is described this way, because after Buffy expresses her horror at the prospect of becoming a single mother, the concept of the egg raising being done with a partner is never mentioned again.

Not only is it not raised again, a moment’s thought shows it is completely at odds with the actual plot of the episode.

The rest of Bad Eggs proceeds exactly as if each of the students has sole custody of their eggs.  We see the eggs hatch at night, and strange creatures climb out to possesses the students taking care of them.  What happens to the other student in the partnership, the one who didn’t take the egg home that night?  What does Xander’s partner think about the fact he boiled their shared egg? Are they in on the scheme? What do they think about the fact he named it “Xander Junior”?  We don’t know, because we don’t know who Xander’s partner is and we will never find out.  We never see his egg partner, or Willow’s, or Cordelia’s.  They do not exist.  They will never exist.  For the episode to work, they cannot have existed.

And why would Mr Whitmore, presumably already possessed by sinister egg creatures at this point, want to limit the distribution of eggs like this?  Doesn’t he want to possess as many students as possible? Just give them all individual eggs! We know that there are plenty more of them to go around, because later in this episode we see lots of other people get possessed by the egg creatures – Giles, Joyce and Jonathan to name just a few – people who very clearly were not in the original health class.

No, I’m pretty sure that the only reason the script pretends that the eggs are being raised in partnerships at the start is so that Buffy can worry about becoming her mother.  Something that she has never expressed any concern about before, something the episode never even pretends to comes back to, and something that Buffy herself won’t worry about again for another seventy-one episodes (and then only in vastly different circumstances).  

And “how deeply scary is that?” is asked as a rhetorical question, but I’m going with … “not very?”.  We see Buffy fight monsters every night; we’ve seen her mourn friends; we’ve seen her drown and die.  Surely being a single mother isn’t quite so scary compared to all of that?  Especially when, again, Buffy hasn’t ever shown any signs of thinking her mom is unlucky to be a single mother.  Just last episode it was a plot point that Buffy wasn’t happy about her mother meeting somebody new!  Buffy clearly doesn’t think her life would be better if her mother was seeing somebody, so why does she think her mother’s life is so terrible as it is?

What does Buffy’s little speech in the library mean?  What are we supposed to take away from it?  Why did the script go to all that trouble of setting it up?

But just to ask the question is to put more thought into the substance and meaning of this episode than I think anybody involved in writing it did.  

In an interview a few years ago, Marti Noxon (who wrote not just this episode but also most of What’s My Line?, as well as next week’s Surprise and two further episodes this season alone) described the pace of writing episodes for the show as “bananas”.  In that interview she also suggested that sometimes episodes had to be written in as little as four days, generally without much support or involvement from the rest of the writing team, but noted that “sometimes that results in really good writing”.

Maybe sometimes it does. I will say that I think that two of Noxon’s episodes this season are genuinely very good, to say nothing of future episodes she’ll write like Consequences and The Prom and Forever.  But sometimes it results in … well, Bad Eggs.  Not even close to the worst episode ever, despite the fandom consensus, but certainly not something worth thinking too hard about either.

Or as the script has Xander say, in what could easily be meta commentary on the episode itself:

“It says nothing.  It means nothing.  This whole egg experiment is completely pointless.”

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 5.d

welp. those poor boys. I hope they're not dead, and there's a way to get them back. Thinking on karma, and what their parents said in the paper, that they only got hurt because they tried to help

also I love these little local ads in the paper, one of them written in comic sans

... is slippery nick the dolphin an other. Nine years would match up with the timeline

goblin interlude? fascinating

“Point of order number seven.  There’s a fight coming.  I don’t think everyone knows there’s a fight coming, but we’re rounding up help because we can’t do all of this alone.  Two sides are picking their teams but one side doesn’t even know.  You are not on these sides, Bumcake.  You’re on my side, understand?”

hmmmmm. Kennet Trio on one side, people who killed the CB on the other? With goblins neutral? I think this is maybe confirmation that Toadswallow wasn't involved with the CB thing. And if the Kennet Trio is the side that doesn't realize they're picking a team, who have they been picking? Snowdrop obviously, maybe Alpeana or John? Or could it count people outside of Kennet, like Zed.

“Five rules,” Bluntmunch growled.

ooh. So he doesn't know about rules 6 and 7? Is this because he's not preparing for the fight, or because he's on a side?

“They didn’t share that.  They’re keeping things close to the chest.” “Yeah,” Matthew said. “But so are we.”

this is ominous! Seems like Edith more than Matthew is opposed to the girls, but at least neither of them seems happy about it?

He hadn’t voiced it to Edith, and Edith hadn’t voiced it to him, but there was the possibility of killing Brie and releasing the Choir again.  A horrible thought and a thought he wouldn’t have had a decade ago. 

if a decade ago Matthew wouldn't have considered killing to release the Hungry Choir, I don't think he would have considered creating it either. And if he wasn't involved in creating the HC, he wasn't part of planning to kill the CB that far back (he could have joined later I guess)

“Tha lassie liked yeh.  Verona did.  If ye’d like to be less lonely, an’ if ye’d be good, we’d have yeh.”

nice that Verona followed up about her. And presumably the eye girl will have some goodwill about it, which could come in handy

The woman stood with one hand to the wall.

Miss?

These places were woven together. The weave wasn’t always obvious, but there were ways to work out their design.

like a fucked up escape-the-room style point and click adventure

“Any one of you can say that!” he called out.  “I’ll try not to kill you, but I can’t have a strange Other wandering around!  Places like this are too sensitive!”

Because the world of the otherverse is so dangerous, you have to interact with caution and suspicion. But that puts you at odds with all others, who also can't trust you. And then things just keep getting worse, because everyone has to act to defend themselves.

The trajectory of her fall shifted to a right angle, plunging her into bright daylight.  The remnants of a neighborhood with brightly painted houses tumbled through the air with her.

is this what happens to the houses from zoomtown?

“You picked us because you think we can do it, but the actual culprit is likely to think we can’t,” Lucy said. “Yes,” Miss told her.

ooooooh! That's a pretty good reason. Also. I think that wording rules out Miss being the culprit? Not discounting that she's using a way around full culpability like I discussed way back in arc 1, but I'm getting more trusting.

Lucy nodded.  “Matthew makes the most sense as the central figure.  Then people like Maricica, Edith, the Choir, and maybe Charles as accomplices.  Though that’s based on a coin turning up in a few ways, instead of anything concrete.”

hmm. I hadn't thought about the driving angle. Still not sure about that making it Matthew though, I think someone could probably have procured a car for Charles to drive. And Matthew's POV earlier didn't seem that suspicious. How would becoming Carmine affect his Doom?