#i guess ill be working on erica for a bit

[autisticethanmorgan]

How I would continue mbav in comic form

disney, teletoon, fresh tv, whoever the fuck owns the rights to this, please let me have them

LONG ASS POST WARNING

we are past the days of any further mbav television content, but you know what has a much lower production cost and would fill a specific niche? a comic/graphic novel continuation >:) Teen rating because pretty much anyone who was the target audience of mbav when it was airing is late teen or older and I want the characters actions to have more consequence, basically i want to injure my protagonists

I would pick up a month or two after the lucifractor explosion, establish the new status quo, we cant really do a continuation if they all died so Ill settle for injury and property damage, including putting out main man Ethan in a half magic/half head trauma induced coma! this is kind of a cheap story beat but i cant help it I love a coma and its a good opportunity for both sarah and benny to get a little bit darker and have some interesting character development, with the most important difference being that sarah basically gets through it and refuses to compromise her morals whereas benny is very lost without ethan being his moral compass and becomes more and more reckless with magic, eventually leading to him attempting a very risky spell to wake ethan up which does work but basically has sarah and his grandma like 'wtf is wrong with you'

meanwhile erica and rory are fucking around in the states bc this would be a very fun B plot for a while before they return, if youve read the comic crowded im thinking of that kind of vibe

so anyway ethan is back up and running now and everyone is kind of trying to get back to normal but its really hard and theres a lot of residual magic causing problems and making bennys magic more powerful, and its giving ethan basically constant migranes and really vague visions and horrifying dreams and all that good 'plauged with visions' stuff.

sarah and ethan have not gone on any more dates at this point so theyre not dating but they do have this kind of romantic aspect of their relationship and they basically havent talked about it since the explosion, kind of a silent understanding of like 'i love you and i dont really care that its platonic or romantic but i just understand whats happening in a way almost no one else can and Im here for you even if now just isnt the time for us'

benny is continuing to get more reckless and kind of vengeful with his magic use, testing his limits, using magic to get back and the people making snide comments in the halls, especially after ethan comes back to school, when your best friend is in a coma for two months you get kind of defensive about it I guess. If you’re not a bethan truther I’m sorry but Ethan can have two intense friendships that border on romantic, both of which are societally non conventional/acceptable. In fact he has to. It is so good narratively. but anyway at some point there is a particularly bad incident benny gets more vindictive than ever before and hurts this guy pretty badly till ethan is yelling at him to stop

at this point ethan and sarah and grandma are like 'uhhh benny is getting kinda intense' but they dont even know the half of it because secretly he learning magic that isnt in his book, researching on his own and making stuff up. the magic itself wants him to be getting stronger, its not like sentient but it does have kind of a self preservation instinct? like a power begets power type thing that magic users can very easily be driven mad by their own magic if theyre not careful or dont have another magic user telling them to touch grass.

i think benny can have unexamined mental repercussions due to his parents having either left him or died. as a treat. so when he get magic and suddenly he can control things he couldnt before yknow who can blame him for getting kind of lost, i personally would become insane. I havent really though about the specific of him devolving and mentally deteriorating. I dont want him to be too evil yknow? bc we will be letting him get redeemed latr bc im a sucker for that.

at this point erica and rory return from their wacky adventures bc this is no time for a silly b plot. and they are like huh benny got kind of weird and different and ethan is like haha no hes fine

he is not fine

he is actually sneaking out of town to meet another magic user who is basically like 'i will act like a father figure to gain your trust' and benny is like 'epic!' yknow because he. becuase. because he has no dad :D. he gets exposed to magic that grandma doesnt do and is both scared and impressed and this other magic user is like 'she doesnt want you to learn this >:| she doesnt want you to reach your fullest potential' and benny is like 'hmm idk about that' but they keep talking until this guy is like 'arent you tired of being nice?dont you just wanna go apeshit?' but benny is still like 'hmmm my really close boy best friend probably wouldnt like that' but its too late. its already in motion.

benny gets more evil. he is causing problems in whitechapel and does not seem to care. benny be like 'thought acquired: if i control everything and destroy the things i dont like then everything will be good and i can protect my friends forever. i see no moral problems with this' more development into evil, dont ask me the details i dont know.

bennys evil girl summer culminates in some kind of fight where ethan enters his mind bc yeah obviosly thats where this has been going, idk if ive just spent to long thinking about jean grey and scott summers but this is the most interesting thing ever. i want to see ethan walking through bennys memories end of life is strange style and realizing that all of his most important memories are of them together, times that theyve comforted or protected each other and it ends with a memory of from just before they met sarah. that memory fades out and ethan is standing on the street in front of his house, so he goes up to his room and benny is there but this time its really him and not just a memory version of him and benny is like 'i dont know how it got to be like this, this isnt what i wanted, how do i fix this?' and ethan is like 'i havent given up on you, you can still come back and we can try to make it right' and they hug and they come back to reality and benny basically breaks down sobbing yeah i <3 sad boys. he has a lot of regrets. ( i have written a lot of this scene bc i am insane and obsessed)

by the next morning hes left town. only leaving a note saying he needs to go away and clear the magic out of his head. hes reversed as much of the magic he did as he could, and left ethan with a spell leaving the words 'semper reveniam ad te' on his arm that will disappear when they see each other again or if benny dies.

[sushigal007]

Whoops, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I blame the covid. Totally wiped me out. It’s also been a busy few weeks at work, plus my kid got themselves a theme park pass, and half my free time is now spent driving to Thorpe Park. And, my sister has been to Greece about four times this year already ‘cause our mum’s been unwell, and that’s me on airport driving duty. Basically, too much real life, not enough simulated life. But! I’m ill again, which means I’ve finally managed to claw a few hours spare to post the Ramirez household. Say hi to Checo, everyone!

Right, time to drug your army of children.

Checo and Lisa: Actually, we would like to bang.

And I would like you to train your quads. Lisa: Isn’t that what the nanny’s for?

Huh, apparently so!

But we can also add in a little parentification now that Tessa’s ageing up.

Tessa: These hands were made for jazz.

Yep, Tessa’s LTW is to become Lord of the Dance. We’ll see how that goes.

Max also grew up! Nobody noticed.

So yeah, this is Tessa’s life now. Tessa: It’s not quite the dance party I was expecting.

Still, there are sweet moments along the way. Erica: Huggles? Alyson: Huggles!

Terence: Huggles? Jacob: DOG FOOD ATTACK RARRRRGH.

Terence: D:

Tessa: Lock my door.

Lisa: I AM NOT- Having a good time? Lisa: GET SOME NEW MATERIAL. Lisa: AND USE IT TO ENTERTAIN ME.

All right, here’s something funny. Lisa: The... nanny? Keep watching.

Nanny: I was so busy potty training the children, I forgot to potty train myself! Lisa: It’s mean, but OK, it’s a little funny. (That’s not all nanny piss btw, I’m just very bad at catching Max in the act.)

Speaking of piss.

Jacob: There there, good potty.

Checo: He can pee in a pot, he’s my favourite now.

Jacob: High chair. Checo: You’re so right!

Lisa, alas, is not enjoying toddlers quite as much. Lisa: I’m too pretty for this.

Erica: RELEASEEEEEE MEEEEEEE!

Terence: Laid a fresh one for you, mom.

Lisa: This is fine.

Tessa: OK, you put your left leg in, your left leg out. In, out, in, out, and shake it all about.

Terence: Sis, hey, sis, hey. Erica: Hush please, I am concentrating.

Terence: That’s right, hand it over. Erica: Oh. I see how it is.

Bath time for stinky boys.

A problem for future Sushi.

At last, the toddler stage is over! Tessa: Do you wanna go first or...? Checo: Oh yeah, sure, no problem.

Checo: But first, let me ogle my wife. Tessa: Soon I will be at university and all of this will be behind me...

First up, Erica! Erica: Yay!

Then Alyson! Checo: Hooray for me! Alyson: Hooray for cake.

Tessa ad Sharla: Happy birthday to the wall!

Next up is Jacob, assuming I haven’t got the names mixed up.

Kennedy: Toot toot.

Jacob: Limbo!

Lisa: Whew, right in the nick of time. Lisa: So long as we ignore the bit where time kept going looping for three hours so I could finish this.

But yes, finally it’s Terence’s turn to grow up.

Benjamin: I’m gonna punch him. Please don’t. Benjamin: Gonna punch him so hard.

Celebrate good times, come on!

Erica: Wait a minute...

Erica: I hate that stupid bear outfit. Alyson: I think he’s hibernating!

Jacob: Does he have to do it at the bottom of the stairs though?

Erica lives at the piano now. Her OTH is Sports.

Tessa: Something about emergencies, I guess.

Lisa: Finally, I can start working on the damn car.

Good Lord.

Let’s have a little playtime interlude.

Mailman: Bills. Erica: Do you accept lemonade? Mailman: Not in exchange for bills. Erica: How about in exchange for money? Mailman: Technically, that is also bills.

Fuck that librarian.

Lisa: Whatever. I’m taking a nap.

Um.

Checo: Hot wife! Freezing cold wife, actually. Wanna do something about that? Checo: Nope!

Why? He hasn’t done anything. Alyson: Yet.

Tessa: Ahhh, dance time!

Chess party.

Gaming party.

Just lots of cute family bonding moments.

Checo: I’m too sexy for my shirt.

Bath time for stinky boys. Which I know I said last time too, but I just really like this pet bath.

Werewolf: Is she OK? No.

Lisa: Zzzz... piss... Checo: On it.

Yeah she might actually die.

Gilbert: Yeah good luck with that.

Lisa: Ugh, what happened? You lost your job and passed out in the absolute worst place possible.

Lisa: I’m freezing! Don’t worry, you’re about to warm yourself up.

Lisa: Eek nooo!

Wanda: HAHAHAHAHA! Lisa: This is because I laughed at the nanny, isn’t it? Yeah, that probably didn’t help.

Anyway, over to Tessa. Tessa: Look, somebody else is pissing themselves! Buck:

Tessa: BAM! In the face!

Decided to check out the furniture store and once again, it is borked. Cashier: It’s Kevin’s fault. Other cashier: Yeah, definitely Kevin.

But you know what? I don’t know how to stop it from happening again, nobody’s got a business LTW anyway, so bye bye business!

Checo: And now to spend the profits.

Lisa: Mmm, that piss puddle really sets the mood. ...There is way too much piss in this update.

If you two make more quads, I will genuinely kill you.

Newspaper kid: Shake? Tessa: Salute.

Tessa: Love love peace peace?

Cute little family dance party. Terence: Except me. Except you.

Jacob: I wanna join in! Go right ahead, sweetie.

Alyson: Are you OK? Terence: Clearly not.

Erica: You might be watching me, but who do you think is watching you? Please don’t, I’m too ill for dep thinking.

Cute!

Please don’t die. Lisa: Frostbite couldn’t do it, and electrocution ain’t gonna do it either.

Weekend! I sent Tessa out to do some singing...

...And then decided to start working on those dance contests for her LTW.

Alas, her first attempt was a failure.

Still, at least she doesn’t take it as badly as this poor townie. Townie: I JUST WANNA DANCE LIKE NO-ONE’S WATCHING! Everyone’s watching. Everyone.

Erica: I’m dying. Alyson: You’re wearing a vest and shorts outside in winter, of course you’re dying.

Alyson: But now, a message about recycling.

Ah how sweet, doomed townie love.

Tessa: Hey, don’t mind me, just gonna practise my moves.

Wait a minute, that looks familiar...

I mean, without the shotgun, but yeah!

And the week ends with Alyson doing a little stargazing. Next up is a single sim household, so hopefully it won’t take me three months to write up. Hopefully!

Uberhood Index

[withrage]

me: liam come on its time to write!!

liam: eh no. 

me: please we have drafts

erica *skipping her way into the room*: i am HERE 

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 25

“Jesus,” Erica breathes, “you weren’t kidding,” and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

I’ve managed to keep my heartrate under control all the way down to the barrows but now that we’re here I’m able to let my breath out and relax a little, ironically. The place is a graveyard, a grisly butcher’s workshop of stinking ichor and dismembered copepods. It is unearthly quiet, even down here in the middle of the Pit’s guts, with the only sound being the dripping of glutinous white phlegm-like vital fluids and occasionally a far-off groan from the Pit’s musculature.

The copepods are everywhere, strewn all over the place like ragdolls, and very few of them are intact. The majority have had their arms ripped off and a ragged hole bored straight through the middle of their armored faceplate that looks like it goes several feet deep at least. Here and there there are dead leeches, the only trace of the leechman, the only thing giving any clue as to what might have happened her. I briefly wish that I still had my camera with me.

Saying goodbye to Elena had made me acutely aware that I may not have been prepared for what I was getting myself into. I had helped her out of the cot and she had stumbled and cried out and then I caught her, prepared for the worst, already starting to panic – had I done a bad job? Had I hurt her somehow while I was tending to her wounds and only now was she able to feel the effects of it, getting up and moving around?

Elena had looked at me, lips already curling into a sheepish grin, and then she must have seen the look on my face and stopped, stood there straight without any assistance from me and then put her hands on my face and cupped me to her and kissed me so long and so hard that I felt a little faint. Erica had coughed behind us, a little uncomfortably, but when we finally broke apart I really had eyes only for Elena, I couldn’t stop staring at her, at the freckles across her cheeks, at the way one of the corners of her lips lifted slightly higher than the other when she smiled, at a dozen little things like that that I wanted to fix in my mind.

I don’t think I really knew, not consciously, at least, why I made such an effort to keep a clear image of her in my head then, to get every detail down in as complete a manner as I could. It only became apparent to me once we had walked out to the Cord and Elena had opened the door and turned around and waved to me before disappearing that I had been so concerned with her safety that I had had no concern at all for mine.

The door clanged shut and Marcus had spun the wheel to seal it tightly and then Elena was gone. Before she left we had hugged again, there in Oyster’s Shame, amid the glistening walls and the sounds of more of the tiny pearly deposits falling here and there like a soft distant rain. “You come back to me,” she had growled, right into my ear, and I could feel her leave a wet spot on my cheek from where she had begun to cry, and I wanted so badly to go with her but I didn’t see any way I could.

“Well,” I had said to Erica, forcing myself to sound brighter than I had felt, “let’s get this over with.”

So we did.

Marcus kicks one of the dead leeches and it rolls a little. It looks like it has some weight to it, some heftiness that isn’t immediately apparent from how slender it is. It’s about the length of my arm. “What the hell is this, E?” he asks, looking up at her, and Erica shakes her head, getting down on her haunches to examine it.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she says. “It’s a little bit like a gastric bristleworm but not as…I don’t know, bristly.”

I’m standing there in the back with my arms folded, waiting. Next to me is the stinking corpse of a copepod; this one has been crushed, its insides, ropy and white, flooding out in a great mass from its burst sides. Even with the helmet up I can smell it; Erica and Marcus must have cast-iron stomachs. Erica does, anyway; when we first made it down to the barrows we’d had to stop for a moment to let Marcus vomit.

The tracking PDA had lead us almost exactly the way we’d gone the day before, back before everything had gone to hell. I still don’t know exactly what had kicked it off to begin with; my best guess was that the Leechman had showed up and gone on a rampage just after we’d left with the crystal, and the copepods, they must have assumed that it was our fault, that we’d drawn it here or were somehow working with it. Did they know what it was? Did they recognize it? I wish the Big Guy were still around to ask but we had passed his desiccated, punctured corpse, recognizable only by the stump of one of its wrists, as we had made our way through the central chamber. Marcus is carrying the Sergeant’s slug rifle but he does so nervously, as though he’s afraid of it. He clearly isn’t familiar with the thing. I wonder what’ll happen if he does have to fire it, if it’ll just put him on his ass or if it’ll actually break a bone.

The two of them have been decent to me so far. Erica seems genuinely regretful about hitting me earlier; she doesn’t look at me most of the time, and if she does need me for something, mainly to use the suit computer to look at a map, she asks for me politely and in a soft voice. I thought that Marcus might curse at me or harbor some kind of ill-feeling; after all, Elena – after all, my girlfriend attacked him, and I have no doubt that if she had been able to get away with it she likely would have shot the both of them and washed her hands of it.

The thought makes me shudder very slightly, but not of fear or anger but just vague baseless exhilaration, of minor and muted joy that things are finally happening, for better or for worse, for good or ill, that great capital-letter THINGS WILL CHANGE finally rolling over and putting muscle behind its epitaph.

I had been terrified on the way down that the copepods would have torn us apart, would have eaten us. I had no confidence in Erica and Marcus’ ability to protect this little illicit expedition. They have no plan, no notion of what might be waiting for them. And I don’t know what they intend to do if they do actually manage somehow to get their hands on the crystal. Break it? But that’d be counterproductive, wouldn’t it, as if what Erica’s saying is right, that’d just give us that psychic illness.

If I don’t have it already. Was that dream a dream or the start of it? Is it –

No, stop. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s the perfectly normal sort of dream to have when you’re under this much stress, in these conditions. Once you’re out of here, once you’ve – Christ, I don’t know, gotten Elena some vacation time or sick leave or whatever the hell and spent the rest of your savings taking her to fucking Tahiti or somewhere, if you’re still having the dreams then, you can worry about it.

I could tell them, I could tell Erica and Marcus. It’d be easy. I could just say something like, ‘hey, uh, so there’s this giant fucking ogre made out of leeches wandering around down here and it’s got the crystal you’re after, and it killed all these copepods. Oh, and the crystal weighs about a ton and we had to get a robot to carry it, which I notice you guys didn’t bring with you. No, you can’t use our robot, it’s probably smashed to bits somewhere.’

They wouldn’t believe me. There’s no way in hell they’d believe me. Even if I did want to save their asses, which at the moment is not very high up on my priority list. I’m still maintaining the faint hope that they might actually find the damn Leechman and try to get into a fight with it, which would be my cue to run like hell.

“Roan,” Erica asks me, again using that mildly infuriating soft and considerate voice, “have you seen one of these before?” She’s holding the body of the leech out to me, grasping it like one might hold a snake, right behind the head. Its mouth gapes insanely wide and round and the body hangs limp. I can’t stop myself from taking a step backwards.

Goddam it, Erica.

“Leechman,” I say, and then I cough. Our eyes meet for the first time in a half hour. “The leechman’s here.”

Erica’s eyes seem to grow instantly deeper. Her mouth is open slightly, and she stares at me in silence until Marcus nudges her, his eyes flicking between her and me. “What’s the leechman?” he asks, and Erica, broken out of her reverie, licks her lips and glances over at him.

“Nothing,” she tells him, getting to her feet quickly. “A fairy tale. Like the boogeyman.”

Marcus doesn’t believe this; I can tell from the way he looks at her, but he doesn’t question it, just gets to his feet as well and follows her as she pulls out the tracking PDA, taps at the screen a few times, and then points down at one of the darkened vents. “That way,” she says, and where she points we follow.

We make our winding way through the ass-end of the barrows, the part we hadn’t gone through yesterday, and then the trail takes a corkscrewing, winding path downwards. We are very clearly in a section of the Pit that people have not been in very often. Even in the sections leading up to the barrows, where the flesh of the vents is left bare and uncovered, there are still lights strung here and there, little radio repeaters and every now and then a tiny, cramped-looking ranger station, mostly mothballed and closed-off, but still evidence that someone had come before us. In the barrows, though, this stopped entirely. There were little trails of cleat-marks here and there, but I think the majority of them were from us stomping through earlier, they looked too fresh, too new.

We only saw a couple of copepods, and these from far off, across vast chasms of flesh, scarred here and there like cliff-faces. I couldn’t divine their purpose, just – anomalies of anatomy, no meaning, no clear analogue I can draw. Just places where the flesh falls away and vague misty nothing takes its place. As I stand on the precipice looking over and down into darkness, watching the way my flashlight beam peters out depressingly soon, I swear that for a moment I can see something moving around, something large, fluttering and flapping and swooping like some kind of giant bat, but if anything was there, it vanished so quickly as to not leave an impression on me other than a brief glimpse of size and frantic motion.

I turned back to see if Marcus or Erica had seen any of it but they were huddled together, deep in conversation, hunched over the PDA. After a moment I traipsed over to join them. With each step on the way down I had felt my weariness building, both in my body and in my heart – I had shoved so much out of the way down somewhere inside of me where I didn’t have to feel it, and it was only now that it was beginning to creep back out at me.

We’d passed some things I’d recognized from the rest of the squad – there was a torn piece of a suit there, in a small knurled corner, dirty and speckled with red matter that might have been blood or bits of flesh. I didn’t look closely enough to check. A boot, cleated firmly into the ground. Nothing as definite as a body; the closest I saw was a great foaming gout of blood splashed across the floor and up part of the wall of the vent, but no indication as to whether it came from a person, from a member of the team, from Klaus or Euler or – or Peter, or whether it was just natural, some artery in the floor being clipped during the fighting and spraying everywhere until capillary action cut it off.

If I think about it I won’t be able to go on. I can’t bear to –

Alright, Roan. Easy girl. Deal with it later. Right now just focus on staying alive. Get back to Elena and then you can cry about things. God, poor Peter, though; and poor Makado, waiting for him. How would I feel if it had been me up there and Elena down here?

I think of her, alone, making her way up the Cord, no weapon, still hurting, probably, as the painkiller starts to wear off, and I bite my lip, hard. Goddam it, I’m not going to cry. Not down here. She’s fine, she’s going to be perfectly fine. She knows how to handle herself.

I focus instead on the ache in my knees, in my back, in my arms. We’ve been going for so long, it feels like; hours upon hours. I’d check the time on the wrist computer but these damn gloves - !

Erica and Marcus look tired as well, at least. Maybe they’ll want to rest soon. We’ll be able to eat, sleep perhaps…they have to have some kind of tent, or sleeping bags, or something, even if it’s not one of the fancy hexagonal ones the squad used. I think about pointing out that we’re all dog tired, we might as well take a break before we go further, but I nix that idea quickly – I don’t want to seem weak. Erica’s given the impression that she won’t push me but Marcus is still a wild card, I don’t know him, how he handles stress, how he’ll act in a couple of hours when he’s even more tired and hungry.

They gesture and lead on, and I follow, dead on my feet but still forcing myself to continue.

And then, after fifteen minutes of walking, down treacherous polyped inclines, past outcroppings of redundant, keratinous spines, we find, laying in a slump with his neck at an awkward unnatural angle, his eyes terribly bright and aware, Euler.

I cry out when I see him; my stomach makes a horrible lurch as I take in the gnawed markings dotting his once-bright ranger suit, round and puckered and blood-crusted. The leeches have been at him but left him alive for some inscrutable reason. He coughs as we shine our lights on him and shifts feebly but he is unable to move more than an inch or two – his spine is clearly broken.

I hadn’t expected to find any bodies; somehow I had guessed that one way or another, anyone lost down here would be utterly irretrievable. But there is Euler, the one person I would never have expected to survive – I guess I underestimated him.

Or perhaps his current condition isn’t really surviving in the main sense. Once I’ve gathered my senses I rush to him and kneel there beside him. I have nothing to offer him, no painkillers, no first aid, nothing besides companionship, but it’s better than standing and gawking as Erica and Marcus seem to be satisfied with. I wipe his forehead with my gloved palm lightly, the sweat shining on the rubber in the wake of my flashlight, and Euler’s eyes shift up to meet mine and he croaks out my name in a hoarse voice. He says it wrong, like it were one syllable, but hearing someone I care about even infinitesimally say it is like breathing after being underwater.

“Euler,” I tell him, and my voice breaks just a tiny bit right at the end. I lick my lips and try again. “Euler, what the hell happened to you?”

“I’m – it’s bad, Roan,” he says. Rone. Should have changed my name in that rebellious phase, added that accent mark I always longed for. There’d be less ambiguity. I smile to myself in spite of everything and he grins at me, just a little bit, but his eyes stay wide and frightened. They flick over to Erica and Marcus, and I look back at them as well, and then give an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you two have any damn medical things? A first aid kit?” They glance at each other. “Anything?”

“I thought you might…” Euler coughs. “Might have come to rescue us.”

I frown. Us?

“Euler, are there…more people from the squad down here? Hurt somewhere?”

He shakes his head minutely, then winces. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to touch him without hurting him. I tear my glove off with my teeth, just lay my hand against his cheek. It feels like an awkwardly intimate gesture but I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know how else to help. If it were me I think I’d – I think I’d want human contact, something skin to skin. I think it might be a comfort.

“What happened?” I whisper.

“The Leechman,” he says, “it – it grabbed me and then it –“

He cries out, gently, and I move my hand downward and grab his. He clutches at me desperately. The last time I had seen him the leeches had been streaming into his open mouth, writhing against him, wrapping him like a hundred pythons at once. I bite my lip and glare back at Erica again. “Will you two fucking do something?”

“He’s clearly past any help we could give him,” Erica says, and Marcus nods.

For a very brief moment I am so intensely angry I feel as though I might burst into flame. Euler cries out softly again and I realize I have squeezed his hand too hard, and I jerk my hand back from his, muttering a stammered apology. He shakes his head.

“They’re right, I’m done for,” he tells me. “You should – you’re going down further?” he asks, frowning, and I nod.

“Those two want the crystal,” I tell him, lowering my voice a little.

“It went…that way,” he says, glancing to the right, further down the vent and into the Pit’s depths. We sit there in silence for a moment longer and then finally work up enough nerve to ask him the question I wanted to.

“Are you in pain?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “It feels like I should be but it’s just dull.” He breathes heavily. “I’m afraid.”

“Euler, don’t –“

“I’m going to die down here,” he says, and there is a terrible layer of finality in his voice that makes my heart fall.

“No, Euler, you’re not –“ I start, but then cut myself off. Because he’s right, isn’t he? I can’t argue with him, there’s no way in hell that we’re going to be able to get him out of here. If he has a broken neck there’s no fucking way we could stabilize him well enough to carry him out of here, and even if we could, I’d need Erica and Marcus’ help, which they don’t seem incredibly inclined to give me. I look back at them and start to get up, but Euler catches the cuff of my suit and I stop, hunkered over awkwardly.

“Roan, I saw – “

He coughs; I can see his chest heaving. I wonder about those leeches; I know I saw them flooding into his mouth, forcing their way down his throat…what would have –

“I saw inside it,” he tells me. I frown.

“Inside what?”

“The Leechman,” he says. His eyes are boring into mine with a horrible intensity, practically bulging outwards. “I saw inside it and – and it was so bright –“

“Euler, I don’t know what you –“

“Don’t leave me down here,” he says quietly, and then lets go. There is a pleading in his eyes that stops me dead. I’ve let my mouth fall open slightly, but there is no mistaking what he means, there is no ambiguity in the quiet desperation in his tone. He wants me to –

I get up quickly. My hands are shaking and my arms and legs feel like I’ve been whipped with a coil of lightning. I walk over to Erica and Marcus, and Erica nods at me. “You ready to go?” she asks, and I shake my head. I open my mouth and try to talk but I choke a little, then cough and try it again.

“Erica, Euler, he –“

“What is it?”

I shut my eyes. “Kill him,” I tell her. “He asked me to but I can’t – I can’t do that. He’s scared and he doesn’t want to have to lay down here unable to move for a couple more days before something fucking eats him or he dies of exposure. Please.”

Erica’s eyes are very dark. She glances at Marcus, then back at me, before she reaches down to her belt and unsnaps the holster there, then hands me the revolver. I nearly drop it; it’s heavier than I had expected. “Do it yourself,” she tells me. Her voice is like glass. “We’ve wasted enough time here already.”

“You – “ I start, but I choke it back. She’s trusting me giving me the revolver; this means something to her. This is a test. But what am I supposed to do? Can I –

But you already did once before, some part of me whispers at the back of my head. Remember Rey? He’s dead because of you. And before that -

Marcus is covering me with his own slim little pistol. I swallow hard and try not to feel the imprint of its muzzle, covering me from five, seven, ten feet away from me, my back itching as I half-expect to hear a report and feel a sharp shock –

But nothing happens. I make it to Euler; he’s watching me, his eyes rolled upwards in a manner that somehow distinctly reminds me of a dog, somehow, and I hate myself for thinking so, but he’s looking at me in the same way a dog will look up at you, not moving its head, its eyes wide and hopeful.

I thought the gun might feel better in my hand after I’d had it there for a while, but it’s still awkward and heavy and purposeful. It’s much heavier than the pistol they’d given me to practice with during qualifications back on the range a few days ago; that one hadn’t even felt like a gun, it hadn’t felt real. This one most certainly does.

Euler nods at me infinitesimally. “It’s…alright,” he says. He seems to be laboring a bit more now; maybe he hadn’t been expending very much energy until we came across him. I certainly didn’t hear any cries for help on the walk up. If he’d been there the whole time, for hours, listening to the Leechman and the copepods duke it out…

“Euler,” I say, “what did you mean when you said you saw inside the Leechman?”

“Roan,” he says. His eyes are fixed on the revolver. I’m stalling, I realize; I’m putting it off so that maybe somehow this responsibility will be removed from me. The inside of my mouth is very dry and I swallow hard, willing some moisture to return to it.

“Okay,” I say quietly. Okay, I think to myself. I take the revolver, hold it in two hands, one on the handle, the barrel resting in the palm of my other hand. I look at the cylinder, fumble for a moment before that trip all those years ago with my dad comes back to me and I find the catch and swing it outwards. Erica hasn’t reloaded since she shot Elena, I note, some dull part of my mind logging the information without any further comment. I can see the tiny mark of the struck primer on one of the cartridges. But I won’t find any salvation here, there are still five more shots that are perfectly serviceable.

I click it shut, remembering, as my dad told me, not to flick it closed, not to spin it. You aren’t a cowboy, he’d said to me gravely, pressing the gun into my chest. It had smelled like oil and metal, like something functional, like when you open the hood of your car. And I had trembled then as I am now, and I had looked out across the flat open expanse of grass –

Even then I couldn’t bear to think of it after I’d done it.

I’m stalling.

Goddam it, Roan, goddam you and your willingness to stick your neck out.

Euler makes a small noise beneath me and I look down at him. “Are you sure?” I ask, willing him to say no, to rethink it, to give me a reprieve. He nods.

“Just do it,” he says. “They won’t come get me, they won’t care. Just do it.”

“Okay,” I breathe, and then I hold the gun in two hands – why does it come back to me so easily? – and put it up very close to his forehead, and Euler shuts his eyes, and I shut mine as well. I inhale and then exhale.

Five minutes later I hear feet squelching up behind me and then Marcus is crouching next to me and prying the gun from my nerveless hands. “It’s okay,” he says, not unkindly, and then he is gently pushing me out of the way. I get to my feet, not knowing what else to do. I meet Euler’s eyes and I start to say something, then I stop. There is no blame in them, or maybe I don’t want to see blame. So instead I turn around and hunch myself against the wall, and when the gunshot finally sounds I flinch, and then I finally let myself cry.

When I turn back around I can’t bring myself to look at him. I instead watch Marcus hand the revolver back to Erica, watch Erica slip it back into the holster, watch Marcus shove his pistol into the waistband of his heavy-duty jeans. I blurt out the only thing that comes to my mind and tell him that he shouldn’t carry one in the chamber like that, it’s dangerous, and Marcus gives me a pitying look and says nothing. When I meet Erica’s eyes they are lighter than before and I realize, with a shudder as another wave of tears rolls soundlessly down my cheeks, that whatever test there was, whatever reason made her give me the revolver, I passed.

And then we stomp off into the darkness and leave poor Euler behind.

 * * *

 The next day I feel better. I slept better than I thought I might have, sandwiched between Erica and Marcus in their tent, cramped and with not enough air mattresses or sleeping bags, but I managed. They shared some of their food with me, MREs scavenged from some surplus store somewhere, which I found faintly comforting, and then the next day, when someone’s alarm blared and woke us, I was disconcertingly and surprisingly fresh-feeling. All the pain and sorrow I thought might have come boiling out of me when I let my guard down never did, and instead it was replaced with a calm, warm, faintly comforting deadness. I was, I realize now, preparing on some level to die. I had arrived at a zenlike state that had me convinced I was either dead or dreaming, a fragile state of mind that I had tried so hard to reach at that dojo in Oklahoma but which constantly eluded me.

Since Friday I am complicit now in two murders, one arguably and one less so. When I think of myself the person I am is thorny and sharp-edged and armored and I do not recognize her when I hold her in my arms. I blow out a breath and pop my eyes open as Marcus nudges me and hands me a cup of bootleg espresso made from two freeze-dried pouches, and I take it gratefully and even manage to smile at him. I feel…clean.

We’ll see how long that lasts.

More walking, more bypasses across stinking rivers of digested slurry, more crawling across meter-wide cords of banded muscle. The anatomy gets stranger and stranger, more open, more wild. Nerves like waving cilia, waggling at us like anemones, retract at lightspeed at our approach. Everything is luminescent down here, everything glows, but what glows brightest of all is the rectangular blocky backlight of Erica’s PDA, guiding us forward like a north star. She seems less certain of it, less sure; she stops and consults with Marcus every now and then and I feel fairly frequently like I have simply been forgotten, like I am an insurance policy for the return trip, a hostage kept in waiting to be revealed and used as leverage later on.

Will Makado care, I wonder, when she knows that they’ve taken me? I hope she will. I think we got close enough that she would. I think she likes me.

Does she like me enough to send a team after me? I’m sure there’s some kind of tracking device in this suit but will it even function this deep down? I don’t know.

I stub my toe on a bloated adipose swelling and it belches a gout of rank, sticky fluid on me. We pause again for Marcus to vomit.

Eventually we make it to a curled, winding passageway, a tight intestinal-feeling loop that circles in on itself over and over again, the tissue struggling against us at every turn, that we have to claw and scrape and crawl through but that the PDA swears is the right way to go, the simplified arrow logo spinning back around and directing us back in every time we think of turning around and trying someplace else. We push through and through until finally it vomits us out, breathing hard and covered in blood and strands of pale-white membrane, and then we stop, eyes wide, staring up and up and up at the space we’ve found ourselves in.

It’s enormous, the size of a stadium and at least twice or maybe three times as deep, great gnarled coils of sparking nerves weaving in and out of the fleshy, irregular walls casting macabre light in regular snaking patterns across the broad flat plate of bone that divides the space nearly in half, knotty and bulging and thick, honeycombed and dripping with thick resinous marrow.

There are things moving, I realize, on the far-off floor of the chasm, great writhing worms or – no, no, they have legs. Squat lizard-like figures, then, moving in fits and starts, their flesh a glistening pale sickly color, like milk that’s gone off. They must be simply enormous for us to be able to see them from this distance. I glance back at Erica and Marcus; their mouths are open, dumbstruck as well – they must not have known this was here. Could we be the first to find this place?

I watch a shadow, a patchy midnight cutout, detach itself from the bone plate and fall swooping to the floor of the chasm, and then it wings its way back up, one of the lizards caught in its claws, dangling beneath like a rabbit caught by a hawk. I watch, overwhelmed, as the – the thing, whatever it is, I want to call it a bird but it can’t be, it simply can’t be – flutters ungainly and graceless back to the bone and vanishes with its prey into a whorled hole in the side, ragged and uneven.

“What is this place?” I mutter to Erica, after I’ve regained enough of my senses to think to speak, and she shakes her head faintly.

“I have no idea,” she tells me, but before I can say anything else I hear a noise from above us; a subtle noise, like a whistling, drawn-out swoosh, and when I look upwards I can only see a diving, dark-furred silhouette with outstretched, foot-long claws and a hungry, slavering mouth.

I don’t have time to scream.

Continue with Part 26

Back to Table of Contents

[altonadventures]

ALTON ADVENTURES BIG ANNOUNCEMENT

So...because its Friday and I usually update AA on Fridays, I figured it was time to make my big announcement! 

And that is...that Alton Adventures is changing. A little bit. 

Am I rebooted the comic again? No haha! Once I get back to it it shall continue as normal but some characters may look a bit different going forward. 

Who may those characters be?

Sir Gareth Nemesis 

Why is he changing? 

Sir Nemesis’ change is actually less drastic than one may think. For starters, he needed a design rehaul. I wanted his armor to be more simple, easier to draw but with still details that could tie him to Nemesis (the green eye, the arms, the light pink details instead of inconsistent tentacles). I also had an issue where his hair was too close to his skin color, so to combat this I turned him into a ginger! His eye color also changed from gold to green, another thing to visually tie him more to Nemesis. 

So yes, I changed Sir Nem’s design because I was unhappy with it. His armor was never drawn consistently ever, I was constantly changing the tone of his hair and his skin so that was inconsistent. I want my designs to be more consistent and polished going forward.

What else is different? Well, you can probably tell he looks much more serious, like in older pictures I drew of him. Why is that? Well, I was kind of..honestly tired of his role as the “dad character tm” that he kind of turned out to be. It almost undermined his true characterization and turned him into a typical over the top exaggerated hero character. And I started to realize how much I missed his original concept. A battle hardened solider that was filled with regret and remorse, who heavily sympathizes with the plight of the alien he’s locked in combat with. He’s still much a father however, as he has a biological son and adopts an alien who mimics his likeness (hence another reason he’s a ginger now as his Nemesis daughter always was one). He’s just returned to his roots as a character. Because I felt that characterization was a unique one for the Nemesis ride. And it was an idea I really loved. Sir Nemesis actually WAS one of my favorite characters...I wanted his role to be much larger than it is in the comics. I don’t blame anyone for him becoming a joke, I did initially kind of fuel the fire for it, I’m just hoping that its not to late to get back to the Sir Nemesis I originally wanted to write. And of course, all my characters are still meme and joke worthy. I just want to tackle much more serious issues with my comic and show the more serious side of some of my characters and don’t want there entire existence to be a joke Mr.S can’t have too many folks 1 uping him in the laughs department!  I guess to note with this change that his original voice claim has also been solidified as well. It’s a more somber and serious tone that I feel fits him as a character. 

Final Notes 

Sir Nemesis is a character that I have a lot of thought put into. His backstory is tragic, emotional, and his character is complex and he’s not the perfect hero people might image him as. I plan for his Arc to follow the Fireworks arc in the comic, as well as I am planning to start some more text heavy short stories about how the Secret Weapons became Secret Weapons (which I will likely call Secret Weapon Short Stories hehe) and will be writing his first. Also a very important thing i must address. Yes, the eye on his chest moves. (I have a gif but it doesn’t want to work on this post Ill have it up later ><)

Erica Annabelle Cloud 

ooof okay this is a huge one. Confession time. Erica was always my least favorite character. Why? She just had...no character. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with her, her design felt phoned in and there because I needed an Air/Galatica character, (yes, she is changing as her Galatica stage too). She was just. not well thought out. She had a dual identity but I think a lot of people didn’t pick up on that? She felt like a Rita 2.0 as just a nice and friendly optimistic person and literally had 0 backstory. Originally she was supposed to have had some sort of accident that turned her into Galatica and she had memory loss and forgotten about when she was Air, yeah it was a mess. That eventually just turned into Nebula Corona being a character she made up (bc her one trait was that she was into space and wrote a lot) that she played as when her rides themeing changed. 

She was just..barely a character and her design was abysmal (Her Galatica suit was okay but her Air outfit was an afterthought) She needed a massive visual upgrade. A sleeker flight suit that makes more sense (I used a ref or two for this design!) A different face shape to help her stand out more, my signature they wear glasses they have dot eyes look. Long, wispy, flowing hair to resemble those trails planes make. A bit more lanky and tall. And let me tell you I LOVE her design now. It looks so much more unique and you can just SEE she has so much more character now!  As for her characterization im going full into her being a nerd. A very tech nerd at that! She designed her suit to help her fly at her best, and eventually will be the one that designs and builds all her Galatica tech! Her Galatica design hasn’t been done yet, mostly bc I wanted to focus on her current comic canon design, but not much would change I feel with her upgrade anyways! She is effectively the brains of the group, and the others often turn to her for plans of attack when dealing with a situation, or innovative solutions to problems! I have yet to get a voice claim for her, but im sure one will come to me soon enough! 

Final Notes

Erica/Nebula was a character I struggled to connect with. Everyone else had Airs that were either super plot important, or just much more cool and creative in general. I felt, that with my Air/Galatica she was just there, and I wanted her to be more. So a full character rehaul was done with her and it makes me so happy. She feels much more fleshed out, better designed, and I’m super excited to do more stuff with her, and hopefully you will all see her much more now that I’m a lot happier with her as a character! <3 

Welp that's the end of the updates....wait. Hold on. I have something written here. What could this be? Oh! I remember now! 

Black Hole, AkA Beatrix, will be joining the MAIN CAST of Alton Adventures! 

When I drew my Black Hole design, I knew she was something special. She stands out compared to a lot of my characters, and her design SCREAMS main character. While the biggest main roles will still be held by Mr. S and Rita, I wanted to add another non SW coaster to the main crew, and because Canonically Corkscrew is MIA, Black Hole seemed like a fitting addition to the main crew! As she isn’t human, a species literally only referred to as Black Holes, I thought making her a main character and giving her a big arc would help flesh out the reality of non humans in Alton Adventures! Her powers and design and character and personality are just too fun to shove her into the background. I feel that adding her to the main cast gives them not only another character to support them, but a closer friend! You will all see her much more in the future for certain! 

Well that's about it! In terms of comic updates themselves...its still going to be hiatus as long as I’m being swamped with school work. I hope you all understand. I’ll try to squeeze in updates over the breaks I have IF im not working on assignments for class. As I also said, I wanna do short stories as well, to expand the world and explain it better, as a comic will only develop the world so quickly and lots of you have tons of questions! I also wanna do something animated at some point, that’s my dream. I’ve ALSO mentioned to some people about merch, likely going for making stickers first since that's simple. I got an excited reaction for that so I’ll come up with designs for them soon! I just wanna do a lot with Alton Adventures, because I know how much it means to people, and of course it means so much. Goodness I really need to actually get to this park, I look quiet silly constantly gushing over a themepark I’ve never been to all the time XP  That all aside I thank you all for sticking by me. I promise that even if I don’t do comic updates as frequently during the school year, I’ll still work to push out as much AA content I can outside of that! I’m always open to suggestions to what you guys want to see! ALSO, working on a big google doc spreadsheet with info on all the characters I’ll be posting when its more completed! So be on the lookout for that! 

Again thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this, Your support makes me feel nothing but proud of what I’ve created. These characters may have been created out of something some may consider silly or odd, but the only thing that matters to me if that I can make at least someone happy with what I create. 

Patreon (note that patrons got to see all of this content as it was being worked on!) l Ko-fi

[authenticerica]

9 month HRT update on changes

9 Months was Jan 1st and i have been a lil lax in keeping up with updates on changes I am experiencing on HRT.  I will try to not glorify what’s below but rather keep it real to what I see and feel. I mean this is why I did this blog in the first place so here it goes…

1.  starting to see significant muscle loss.  I was easily benching 300 prior to this to give you an idea.  

          -notice a reduction in traps and lats. (neck and upper back muscles).  It’s  slowly reducing that wide triangle body build.

          -I feel arms have remained the same in size.  still bulky

2.  Def fat redistribution around thighs and butt.  

          -My thighs have widened a bit at the muscles but that could be d/t working em out more.

         -my BUTT.  Jesus its gone all bubbly on me.  I work it out hardcore to get that Brazilian ass but i can def say there has been fat growth there.  

3.  Breasts!  I have been very fortunate that in nine months i have grown to an easy 36b.  They are starting to round out now and give a more feminine look and feel.  Not just the man boob look but actual round breasts that are starting to shape at the underarm.  If I lift my arms over my head, they are nice round mounds.  Lil but there.

         -Nipples. words cannot describe how amazingly sensitive and electric they are!

4.  Facial changes.…Cheeks.  My face has not changed much other than some redistribution to my cheek bones.  I have been told by multiple people that my cheeks look higher and my face thinner.  I guess i’ll believe them.

5.  Softer skin.  My skin overall has evened out and become softer,   Feels thinner to be honest.

          -Face is significantly smoother and less acne.  I do have some melasma from the fluctuation in hormones so ill have that to deal with. but my wife argues with me now that my face is smoother than hers!   

6.  Skin sensitivity.  OMG i get why girls rub their thighs all the time! I find myself subconsciously doing it when sitting.  Its like electricity running thru your entire body.  A warmth throughout that i never ever felt as a guy.  

7.  Nails grow super fast.

8.   Hair.  Body hair growth has slowed and thinned significantly in some areas.

         - Any small patches of back hair I had are gone.  literally gone.  

         -Abdominal hair is thinning and lighter in color

         -Arm hair significantly diminished and super fine now.  

         -NO CHANGE in facial hair.  

9. Testicles.  They are still there but shrunken immensely.  They pretty much tuck themselves now!

10.  Weight.  Has maintained give or take a pound.  My wife says i look thinner and smaller so I attribute no weight change to fat redistribution.  I also did not do the best of diets when starting this.

         -New years resolution is to lose that extra weight. workout routine now routine to create that female body.

         -Gone vegetarian to clean up diet.  Still eat poultry and fish.  

11.  Emotions.  Wow I get it. Roller-coaster anyone??

         -When i get super happy my entire body is overwhelmed with this glow and i want to cry.  My wife says she had a great day, I smile and tear up.  WTF.

         when i am sad or something as simple as a commercial gets me.  I tear up.  I cry. I see kitten videos. I cry.  ok all, I cried watching Thor.  WTF

That’s it for now friends!   thanks for reading and following if you are.  hope this helps some for others, wherever they are at in their journey.  

Erica

[coughdontfeelwellcough]

Make You Feel My Love (Ocs, Sickfic)

Hey guys, I’ve got another one for you! This is the first time I’ve written these guys so let me introduce you to Aaron and Henry. 

Aaron is a 22 year old uni drop out trying to make it as a musician. He’s very stubborn and head strong with a lack of concern for himself. He’s the only child of a politician and knows he is a disappointment in them for his choices in life not that he would change of any them. He loves his friends and they are often his only voices of reason in his messy world. 

Henry is a 23 year old medical student. He’s hard working, determined and can get very easily lost in his work. He wants to make the world a better place and look after people though sometimes his strong morals don’t do him many favours. He’s got what he thinks of as a normal family with mum, dad, older brother and their dog. 

This story was inspired by the song Make You Feel My Love, I hope you enjoy!

The black clouds were growing, creeping across the sky until nothing else remained. A storm was incoming, one that threatened to drop week’s worth of rain in a matter of hours. It was only mid morning but the streets were quiet, people choosing to stay in rather than risk getting soaked when the time came but at least it meant the queue in the coffee shop was mercifully short. The only thing keeping Henry through his last class was the thought of a hot cup of coffee at the end of it, his professor had just been coming on and on and he’d nearly drifted off multiple times. He rubbed his tired eyes and tried not to think about all the work he had piling up, between classes and starting work at the clinic he was exhausted.

“Usual is it Henry?”

Henry was pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. He looked up to see non other that Aaron Everson standing behind the counter. In his need for coffee he gone to the place Aaron worked, the one place he’d sworn never to return to. Shit.

“Please,” Henry replied.

“Haven’t seen you awhile, how’ve you been?” Aaron asked.

There was something off with his voice, it wasn’t how Henry remembered it, there was a raspy note to it.

“Busy, I feel like I need to sleep for a mouth,” Henry replied.

Aaron nodded before turning away and coughing harshly into his elbow. So that’s what was wrong, Aaron was sick. Now that Henry looked closely he could see he was paler, his curls messier than normal and his eyes were red and bloodshot.  

“Are you okay? You kinda sound like crap,” Henry asked.

Aaron sniffed, running his wrist under his nose.

“I’m fine, now that’ll be £2.75 please.”

Henry paid for his drink and went to wish Aaron well but he was already serving the next customer. Henry took a seat by the window, the sky was almost completely dark now but still no rain had fallen. He watched as Aaron went through the last few customers in line, stopping every so often to cough or sneeze, he was sounding quite miserable but still he passed it off as nothing. Henry tried to ignore him and got out his laptop with the intention of writing up some notes before his next lecture but the blonde was never quite out of his line of sight. Henry had stopped coming to Aaron’s coffee shop as he’d come to think of it just about a month ago, it had been an attempt to ignore his growing feelings. It didn’t matter how he felt as Aaron had a girlfriend, a great girl called Erica and thus Henry’s feeling didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything.

The morning slowly became afternoon, most people in the small coffee shop had left leaving only Henry working in the corner, surrounded by a few more empty mugs. He’d finally caught up on at least some of his work, he felt a bit less stressed and somewhat more alive than when he’d arrived. Unfortunately the same could not be said of Aaron, looking up from his laptop Henry could see the man had obviously gotten worse. He was pale and shivering, leaning against the counter, coughing harshly in his fist, even from where he was sitting Henry could hear how wet and painful they sounded. When the fit ended Aaron put his head on his arms and moaned. Henry sighed and made his way over to where Aaron was, he knew it was bad idea to be getting involved his heart was already thumping in his chest but he was a Doctor or as good as and he couldn’t just leave him.

“Aaron?”

The young man raised his head, his curls were messy and clinging to his forehead, eyes watering and nose pink and raw.

“Another one already?” Aaron rasped, his voice had gotten worse and he cleared his throat with a wince.

Henry shook his head. “Are you okay? Do you need anything, like a Doctor?”

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You look like a walking health code violation,” Henry replied.    

Aaron raised a small smile before turning away to cough into his sleeve.

“I’m fine, just the sniffles.”

Henry wanted to argue that judging by the flush on his cheeks he was the complete opposite of fine but he didn’t. That was Aaron all over, stubborn till the end of the earth.

“Don’t you think you should go home?”

Aaron sneezed each one sounding more scratchy and painful and the last. Henry pulled a packet of tissues out his pocket and handed him to the ill man, Aaron smiled in thanks and took one to blow his nose.

“I’d rather be here,” Aaron replied.

Henry resisted the temptation to throw the tissues in Aaron’s face, he had what Henry suspected was the flu and was still insisting on being difficult. Henry had known Aaron for a few years, friends through friends and he’d still been the stubborn one always up for a right and argument but for some stupid reason Henry cared for him anyway.

“Why don’t you just call Erica to come get you? I’m sure your bosses won’t mind seeing as you’re ill.”

Something in Aaron changed, he stood up a little straighter and his eyes went cold.

“I said I’m fine Henry, now unless you want another drink I think you should go.”

Henry opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out, he didn’t want to get into a yelling match with Aaron. They’d been there plenty of times before, their opinions always seemed to clash and sometimes their friends have had to stop them from ripping at each other’s throats.

Henry just picked up his stuff in silence and left the coffee shop without saying another word. As he walked back toward campus he saw a few people enter the cafe where Aaron would no doubt work until his shift ended or it killed him. Henry wished he didn’t care but knew in his heart that wasn’t true, he did care and it hurt.   

By late afternoon the storm had arrived in full force, the rain hammered down soaking anything in it’s path in a seconds. It was kind of weather that nobody was venturing out in unless they absolutely had to. Unfortunately for Henry he’d run out of the milk and had to make a quick run to the corner shop. He had an umbrella to keep off the worst but he was still damp and half frozen, the rain had brought with it a sharp, icy wind that burnt against his skin. He’d been studying for hours and was looking forward to getting back to the his flat and finally having a break with a hot mug of tea and a film.  

He didn’t pass anyone else on his way back, milk in hand until he reached a bus stop near his building. A person was huddled under the small roof, the rain barely missing them. At first Henry didn’t recognise him, his curly blonde hair dark and flatten by the rain, he was soaked through and shivering but there was no mistaking Aaron.

“What are you doing here?” Henry asked.

Aaron looked up at the sound of Henry’s voice, he looked worse than when Henry had left him. He was soaked and shaking, his eyes glassy with fever.  

“Going home,” Aaron replied, his voice was shot, raspy and painful.

“In this weather? I doubt they’ll be many buses now,” Henry replied.

Aaron sniffed before coughing weakly into his fist. It sounded like he no longer had the energy to drag up the gunk in his lungs. Henry wasn’t sure how he was still standing.

“Guess I’ll walk then.”

The argument was hot on Henry’s tongue, about how damn stubborn Aaron could be and why didn’t he just leave work hours ago? Now he was trembling, soaked to the bone and even worse than before. But he knew better that to start a fight he couldn’t win, that was Aaron loyal to a fault even to his crappy job and Henry did admire that, he did. He just wished it didn’t mean Aaron’s health suffering as a result.

Aaron sneezed, harsh and wet and miserable. Henry didn’t miss the little moan as Aaron took out an all but ruined tissue to rub at his raw nose. Aaron was a mess and Henry knew he couldn’t leave him like that, it wasn’t exactly the weather to be walking in even if he wasn’t ill. Henry’s heart was thumping again but he ignored it, this wasn’t about that he was just trying to be a good friend, the good friend he’d failed to be for the past month.

“You can come back to my place, you can get warm and call Erica to pick you up,” Henry said.

Aaron opened his mouth to reply but instead coughed weakly into his fist.

“Really?”

Henry nodded and held out his umbrella, the rain felt like a cold shower, the drops splattering his glasses.

“Yes, now come on, before we both get soaked.”

At first Aaron didn’t move then slowly he shuffled under the umbrella.

They left the shelter of the bus stop, Henry’s umbrella barely enough to cover them both of them and it did little from stopping the rain from blowing in their faces. Henry was surprised that Aaron hadn’t called Erica to come and get him, in the days he’d spend at the coffee shop Erica was often there to pick him up or just hang out as Aaron didn’t drive himself. It crossed his mind that maybe something had happened between the two of them but he had more pressing things to think about, like getting them both out of the rain.

Henry’s flat was only a few streets away but the walk was slow, Aaron barely seemed to have the energy to put one foot in front of the other, and by the time they arrived Aaron’s teeth were chattering and Henry felt cold, damp and in need of a strong cup of tea.

“Sorry about the mess…”

The inside of Henry’s flat was very much that of a med student, messy with text books and papers stacked all over the place. There were dirty dishes in the sink, take away boxes next to the bin and landry still in the machine.

Aaron didn’t say anything, he just stood shivering by the door.

“Bathroom is down the hall, why don’t you go have a shower? Warm you up a bit before you call that girl of yours.”

Aaron just nodded and shuffled down the hall. Henry sighed, it wasn’t like Aaron to be so complacent, it worried him a little. He was used to Aaron being the life of the party, loud and outspoken being quiet didn’t suit him.  

Henry went to put the kettle on, he needed something to warm up his own numb fingers. Why he waited for the water to boil Henry went and changed to some dry clothes, leaving a set of warm things outside the bathroom door for Aaron. He was slightly taller than the blonde so the clothes would probably be a little big but at least they’d be dry, Aaron seemed worse enough as it was.

Henry busied himself tidying up a little around the flat as he made the tea, adding a little honey to Aaron’s for his throat. He was just putting the dirty plates in the dishwasher when he was interrupted by the sound of Aaron sneezing again and again until he was left leaning against the wall for support. Henry’s heart ached a little sympathy, he wasn’t usually like this he was a Doctor, a professional but seeing Aaron so obviously unwell was making his heart beat like he was back in the days of high school crushes.

He went over and guided Aaron over to the sofa, sitting him down before fetching the mugs of tea.

“Drink, it’ll help.”

“That a medical fact?” Aaron asked, his voice cracked and raw.

“Of course, tea makes everything better.”

Aaron raised a small smile at sipped at his tea. Even after his shower he looked downright miserable, his blonde hair still damp it was almost brown, his eyes red rimmed and tired, his nose pink and cheeks flushed. He looked like someone with the flu he should be in bed not sat on the sofa of a friend he barely knew.

“Do you err need a charger for your phone or something?” Henry asked, unsure of what he was suppose to do next. There was no rule book for what to do when you’ve got your very sick crush sitting on your sofa.

“No, it’s okay. Thanks,” Aaron said.

“You’re welcome,” Henry replied, hoping the heat he felt on his face wasn’t obvious.

Aaron’s breathing hitched and Henry thought he was going to sneeze again, he reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table only no sneezes came. Instead there were tears, Aaron tried to wipe them away as he sniffed.

“Aaron, what… what’s wrong?” Henry asked.

He’d never seen Aaron cry, not once in all their arguments where they’d both questioned and insulted each others way of life.

“I can’t call Erica,” Aaron said, rubbing at his eyes with his (Henry’s) sleeve.

“Why not?”

“Because she’s gone,” Aaron replied, voice cracking.

“Gone, how can she be gone?” Henry asked. He’d only seen her last week, she’d been standing in line at the bank her blue hair making her stand out a mile off.

“... Back up north to her family.”

“Oh… So you guys are..”

Aaron nodded, putting his head in his hands. Henry felt his heart sink as Aaron properly started crying, his shoulders were shaking and it was doing nothing to help the crap in his lungs. It shook something in Henry seeing his friend like that, he’d never been good with people crying not even as a Doctor. He’s been stood in the room when a person is told their loved one hasn’t made it there’s always so much crying and he could never take it, he’d always ends up leaving the room. But this wasn’t some stranger, it was Aaron and he was hurting in a way Henry had never seen before, he did the only thing he could think to and put his arm around Aaron’s shoulders and hugged him.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

He was surprised when Aaron leant against him, crying on his shoulder. Henry hugged him a little tighter, there was no hiding the fever that was causing through Aaron that was no doubt adding to his emotional outburst as it was far from the Aaron Henry knew. From what Henry had seen Aaron he wasn’t a very emotional person, passionate yes but it seemed something had finally broken through his armour.  

“You’re going to be okay.”

Aaron cried until he had to break away coughing, long and hard with barely enough time to breathe. Henry rubbed his back in an attempt to help clear his lungs.

“I’m sorry, she was a great girl but I’m sure she had her reas…”

“I fucked it up.”

Aaron cut him off, his voice shaking.

“I messed it up, me not her. It’s all my fault.”

“No, don’t do that to yourself. Shit happens it doesn’t mean there’s someone to blame.”

Henry put his arm on Aaron’s shoulder, the heat was radiating off him and yet he shivered. Henry wanted to get some medicine in him before he ended up needing real medical attention but before he could say anything Aaron leant back against him. His head came to rest on Henry’s shoulder, he sniffed and closed his eyes. He was still trembling a little and Henry put his arms around him not daring to move. It was obvious Aaron needed someone to be there and that for some reason Henry had become that person. He didn’t mind because there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

Not that they’d never been that close and Henry did his best, he started to run his fingers through the ends of Aaron’s hair not sure how he would react. Aaron just sighed, tears still damp on his cheek but at least he was calm.

It didn’t take long for Aaron to fall asleep still lying on Henry, not that he minded. He’d never imagined this would be how his day would end, especially not after the argument they’d had that very morning. He’d never seen this side of Aaron the one that showed genuine emotion, it was something new and he liked it. He didn’t like seeing Aaron hurt but it did make him seem more human, Aaron could be all fire and anger this was the first time he’d been vulnerable. And with Erica out of the picture….

No, no, he couldn’t start thinking like that. He didn’t even know if Aaron could think of him like… He’d always suspected but it wasn’t his place to ask.   

Eventually Henry dozed off too, he was exhausted and with a feverish Aaron lying next to him there wasn’t much else he could do. He didn’t dream, his mind blank and empty though the same could not be said of Aaron. The blonde whimpered in his sleep caught up in some fever dream he couldn’t seem to shake.

Henry awoke in the darkness aware that it was now some in the evening and his stomach was protesting about the lack of food. Aaron was still asleep beside him but something was wrong, his face was scrunched up in pain another whimper escaping.

“Shit.”

He pushed Aaron’s sweaty curls away from his forehead and found it burning.

“Shit. Aaron wake up.”

Henry shook his shoulder, he shouldn’t have let him sleep without medicine. Damn it he should know better than this.

“Aaron, wake up!”

Henry’s heart started to thumping against in his chest in panic just as Aaron’s eyes blinked open, they were glassy and bloodshot before he turned away to cough heavily in his fist. He sounded bad but he’d deal with that in a minute.

“Jesus don’t scare me like that.”

“What?”

Aaron’s voice was rough and thick with sleep.

“Your fevers high, I’m going to need to take your temp and get some medicine in you okay?”

Aaron groaned and tried to close his eyes.

“And don’t go back to sleep!”

Aaron mumbled something as he struggled to sit up, propping himself against the sofa cushions.

Henry returned with his medical kit and found Aaron exactly where’d left him, he looked absolutely miserable and Henry’s heart started hammering again for a whole different reason. He hoped Aaron was still too out of it to notice the heat he could feel on his neck. In the light Henry could see how flushed Aaron was there was no doubting his fever had spiked but he still needed to know how high.

“Open up.”

Aaron blinked heavily and for a moment Henry thought he was about to drift off again but he didn’t. Henry couldn’t ignore how adorable he found Aaron as he sat with the thermometer poking out of his mouth as he fought to keep his eyes open not that it made the situation any less awkward. Luckily the beeping of the thermometer broke the silence and Henry took it preparing himself for the worst.

“38, that’s not actually as bad as I thought.”

“Lucky me” muttered Aaron.

“Sorry, let me give you something.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

The question caught Henry so by surprise he dropped the box of medicine he was holding.

“I umm… I...errr…”

“I mean you don’t like me…”

“That’s not true,” Henry argued.

“Isn’t it?” Aaron sniffed, rubbing his temples.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, you’re ill.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Aaron mumbled.

“Here, take these.”

Henry passed him a couple of pills and a glass of water, and watched as Aaron took them wincing as they passed his sore throat.

“I don’t know about you but I’m hungry, I know a chinese place that does great noodle soup if you want any.”

Aaron didn’t say anything and Henry thought he was going to refuse but instead he just sneezed his curls falling in his face, Henry had to resist the need to push them away.

“I know you’re not hungry but you need food,” Henry said, offering Aaron a box of tissues.

“Okay, thanks Doc.”

Henry smiled and took his phone to make the call. The rain had finally stopped but there was alerts of flash flooding though none near him luckily, it would mean a busy night in the hospital and for once Henry was glad he wasn’t a real Doctor yet. He had enough to deal on his plate with Aaron. Did Aaron really believe he didn’t like him? Was that how he came across? He knew they yelled and fought but he didn’t mean to come off like that, he didn’t hate Aaron quite the opposite.

Henry made the call to the chinese and only a few minutes later there was a knock at the door, he’d just finished making them another round of tea. He paid the man, giving him a tip for coming out in such weather before taking the food through to Aaron. He was still sat on the sofa though now with one of Henry’s spare blankets around his shoulders as he flicked through the channels on the small tv.

“Anything good on?” Henry asked as he unpacked the food.

Aaron shrugged. “Depends if you prefer cop shows or cooking ones.”

“Oh cooking shows definitely.”

Aaron put on one as Henry handed the food, he noticed that Aaron didn’t eat much, only taking off spoonfuls of his soup but he didn’t push it, there’d be something in his stomach at least and it would hopefully make him feel a bit better.

“I just want to say I’m sorry about Erica, she was a great girl.”

Aaron nodded and sniffed. “Yeah she was, I know I fucked it up I wasn’t there when I should have been but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“You’ll get there but in the meantime it’s great songwriting material,” Henry said.

Aaron laughed breaking off into a few light coughs.

“You know you never answered my question,” Aaron said.   

“What question?”

“The one where I asked why you’re being so nice.”

“Oh, that question…”

Henry tried to think, he couldn’t say ‘because I’m in love with you and would do anything’ because he was in love with Aaron, absolutely and completely. Instead he said.

“Because I’m your friend and I do care about if even if I have a shitty way of showing it.”

Aaron smiled and leant his head against Henry’s shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Henry pulled the blanket around the both of them, his arm around Aaron’s waist. He could have stayed there forever with Aaron at his side and maybe one he would but for now he’d take what he could get and if that was Aaron as his friend then so be it.   

[cescalr]

Teen Wolf Backstories Pt. #1

There's this thing.

You see, in Teen Wolf, the backstories for characters is something that's a little hard to come by. A little muddled, a little biased, or fully missing - backstories for characters, they're a limited resource. We know Derek's, as much as is necessary, we know some of Peter's, we know a fair bit about Deucalion, we know some of the Sheriff's - more now, thanks to season 6, so I suppose it was good for something - we know a bit about Claudia, we know a whole lot more about Garret Douglas than I care to know, we know a little about Stiles and Scott and Theo and Malia, but we don't really know a whole lot - and when it comes to Lydia and Jackson and Aiden and Ethan and Danny and Melissa and Agent McAsshole (whoops, sorry, Agent McCall) and Chris and Kate and everyone else, it's pretty much a blank slate.

Here's what we know for Scott (since as he's the main dude, he'll go first):

Scott lived with his Mum and Dad McAsshole when he was little, and moved to beacon hills during the fourth grade; so when he was about nine, with them.

Agent McAsshole left after a drunken bout of 'accidental' child abuse never to be seen again (well, unfortunately showing back up again unwanted during season three).

Melissa got a divorce (???) at some point, though she kept McAsshole's last name (????) for some reason (??????)

Scott was diagnosed with Asthma when exactly? Did he have an attack and that was how it was found out? What?? Tell meeee-

Scott was befriended by Theo who was asthmatic (? or manipulative and a liar, take your pick) and by association Stiles. 

Likely bullied a little by Jackass but probably being friends with the likes of Stiles and Theo, that would have ended very quickly if it did indeed happen in the first place (I feel like it probably did).

Stopped being friends with Theo probably at the start of fifth grade when Theo was nine/ten and killed his sister, basically forgot about him after that; they weren't really close, though he easily recognised him - which could either mean Scott has a really good memory or Theo looks really similar to how he used to look.

Didn't know Stiles when Stiles' mum had recently died, see Stiles' bit on having panic attacks when his mum died and having to say this implying that Scott hadn't known that - so they likely became friends after Stiles' panic attacks stopped for the most part, which means maybe Scott wasn't really friends with them until the end of fourth grade regardless so he didn't have much time to be friends with Theo anyway (????)

Scott didn't know Heather existed - Stiles explained why they were going to her party - so Stiles was his only friend after Theo left (and vice versa) 

Nothing interesting happened until sophomore year, when he got bitten, and voila, the start of the series.

Okay, so that was a little more cohesive than I thought, onto Stiles:

Born and raised in Beacon Hills

Claudia diagnosed around about when he was six, I think?

Stiles diagnosed with ADHD may be a little after or before that, or maybe when he's seven, or eight, maybe they catch it late or maybe they caught it early, at five, or four, but I doubt that - maybe they didn't catch it while Claudia was ill, maybe they only caught the anxiety, maybe they only caught that after his first panic attack, when was that - was that before Claudia died or after? - maybe Stiles only got diagnosed after his dad stopped being massively alcoholic/workaholic and actually paid attention to him and his school reports, maybe Stiles started his medication when he was ten, eleven, twelve - who knows??? The show doesn't say. Stiles still has to reassure Scott that he's taken his Adderall in season one, so maybe Stiles started taking it after he met Scott, or maybe he's just reassuring Scott because he's acting a little frantic and Scott doesn't really get it - who knows, again??? Who Knows????

Basically, you can do a shit tonne with that, that's all I'm saying. I've got it at him being diagnosed at the same time Claudia gets her false diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder from her pretty crappy local doctor, so a year or so before Claudia gets hit with the knowledge of Frontotemporal Dementia - though I've definitely got scenarios of a different nature in my head, I assure you. Most if not all of my fics follow my current set-up with the story I've already got on AO3 in the Backstory Collection, but some don't. The ones in my head don't, whoops.

Stiles is friends w/ Heather when young enough to take baths with her and have that not be Weird - so really, really young, then. Likely because Claudia and Heather's parent(s) were friends - mother or father? Dunno. Do they stop being close-but-close-enough-to-get-invited-to-parties-and-send-Christmas-cards before Stiles befriends Theo, or after? Was it a trio of Heather-Stiles-Theo, for a while, or was it Stiles-Heather Stiles-Theo and then just Stiles-Theo? Was Erica a friend of his when young, or did he not speak to her ever until season two?? Did Stiles ever meet Isaac or Boyd or whatever - did Stiles want to be Boyd's friend because they used to be, or was it just something he wanted at the time?

WHO KNOWS

anyway, so that's that for that part

Stiles gets a 'crush' on Lydia in the third grade - he's the one to call it an obsession, not me - perhaps its more a fixation on something that isn't complicated? A way to distract himself from his problems at home?

Claudia attacks Stiles on the roof. Has she done this before? Has she done the physical part multiple times, the verbal, or both? How often? Or was it just the once? And did she go to Eichen House, and if so, was it before or after this incident? Also likely her words - 'he's trying to kill me' - left a scar called that guilt complex he carries around and also the thing where he thinks he's evil in season five after he unlocks this horrible memory.

Claudia dies when Stiles is eight/nine - going into fourth grade, I think. 

Stiles starts having panic attacks, but as far as he knew they'd stopped by season two's time.

(oh, no they hadn't. My poor man.)

Stiles' dad starts heavily drinking and heavily working. Stiles starts having to look after the both of them - we see leftovers of this in the show; Stiles bringing his dad food and being really very insistent about what he eats, etc.

Stiles is friends with both Theo and Scott at this point, more the former than the latter, anyone else is gone.

Stiles stops being friends with Theo at the start of fifth grade, I guess, which is about the time Theo kills his sister - Stiles feels bitter and angry and alone, so alone, so he latches onto Scott and probably punches Jackson in the face a few times, and likely vows hatred of Theo for the rest of his life - but he could never think the worst of him, that's why he was so insistant that the Theo in season five wasn't Theo at all, but rather an imposter, a fake, because Stiles didn't want to think of his childhood friend that way - the kid who helped him through panic attacks, the guy that distracted him when his dad was drunk and rambling and useless, or at work for days on end - Stiles can't think of him negatively, because Stiles has always struggled with seeing the faults in those he cares about - struggled with admitting them to himself.

I guess sixth grade (???) and onwards is pretty boring? Fifth grade the Sheriff cleans up his act, or maybe it takes two years, and Stiles is eleven - who knows. But maybe, maybe, sixth grade and onwards until sophomore year things are quiet. Stiles drags Scott out to increasingly more illegal and dangerous activities because Scott made the mistake of whining about how boring their town is - and that's that. Stiles finds out about a body in the woods - and they go. And all hell breaks loose. 

There's a bit more confusion there, I guess. Theo next:

Born in Beacon, raised by the Doctors (oh, what wonderful parental figures they make, Christ)

?????

Apparently Asthmatic, but that's ??? up in the air. Perhaps he lied. Theo does that.

Disliked his sister.

Didn't really have a positive connection with anyone ?? except Stiles. 

Befriended Scott ??? who knows why. He didn't like the guy, after all, and he returned back to Beacon Hills to murder him dead, so perhaps he did it because Stiles liked Scott??? Who knows.

????

Killed his sister at the start of fifth grade ??? it was cold enough for her to have mostly died from Hypothermia, so ??? maybe more nearing December, but I don't know how cold it gets in fake California. Beacon County is where, exactly??

Tore his sister's heart out, got surgery, became the first successful chimera. 

Went away with the Dread doctors.

His family???? Died?? I guess??? Theo's parents never did anything about their dead kid and the one who disappeared????

????????????????????????????????????????

a whole load of 'what'

??????????????????????????????????

Returns to beacon hills after eight years (wow, talk about long-term planning) to get a pack with a bunch of strangers and Stiles that part is very important and also maybe murder Scott dead because ??? Jealousy ???? of what?? Power? Likely. Stiles? Probably. 

and canon from then on.

Well, that's a whole lot of ????????????? what, what happened, please tell us. 

Yikes. 

Anyway, Mals:

Born to Peter Hale and Corrine ???/The Desert Wolf

Talia removes Peter's memories of a kid and convinces the Desert Wolf to have her child, which in turn turns the Desert Wolf bitter about losing her powers to a homicidal extent

Malia is adopted by the Tates

Malia goes to a different school to Stiles and Theo (Lydia and Jackson and Scott, later on) because Beacon Hills is big enough for two?? Since Heather apparently is in a different school district as well

man beacon hills is not a small town

anyway, Malia has a pretty normal life until

Nine years old, full moon.

Birth Mother shoots at the car she and her sister and her mom are in, the car swerves and crashes, the panic causes Malia to shift, she claws and destroys her way out of the car, mauling and chewing and probably eating some of her family in the process.

Malia is stuck as a coyote.

Is in town in season three, canon from then on.

Well, that's depressing. Kira time!

a whole load of ?????????????????????

They arrive in Beacon Hills, canon from then on.

Wow, that's terrible. Yikes. 

Lydia:

Born and raised in beacon hills

raised in money - she's likely a spoiled kid.

part of the popular crowd from an early age, but not too early

started hiding her intelligence at some point??? when I don't know. Middle school would be too late because too many people would know she was intelligent. Everything seems to happen in fourth grade, lmao, so maybe then??

Parents fight from a young-ish age, probably. I mean, they split at some point during the show, so ????

?????????????

Starts dating Jackson for the Image it gives. 

??????????

Bad shit starts going down in her sophomore year.

That's very little information. I'm still more salty about how little we know of Kira, though, and at least we know this of Lydia.

Danny:

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Canon.

post season three: ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

I'm bitter. 

Boyd:

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

canon.

dies.

Forever bitter.

Erica:

maybe friends with Stiles/Heather/Theo, maybe not, maybe friends with Isaac/Boyd, likely not because they didn't want her to be happy, who knows-

?????????????????????????????

canon

dies.

still bitter.

Cora:

pretty decent childhood w/ the hales

FIRE BURNING IN FIRE

Saved by Peter

???????????????????????????

she isn't with Laura and Derek, so maybe she runs off into the woods?

regardless, apparently, she went to south America for some reason

???????????????????

caught by Alpha Pack

likely kills someone?????????

Maybe erica?????????

who knows??????????????????????????

???????

canon

post season four - ???????????????????

Yep, still salty.

Caitlin:

???????????????????

starts dating Emily (I'm pretty sure her name was Emily)

?????????????????????????

canon

post season 3a - ???????????????????????

????????????????????

Still bitter, still salty.

Welp. That's all for tonight. More later. Maybe. Probably not.

I've still got that goodbye teen wolf thing to do anyway. Oops. 

[1989dreamer]

This is Your Uber Driver

Summary: Stiles has been having one of the worst weeks of his life. Nothing can make it better. Nothing. Not even the cute Uber driver Lydia sends to pick him up.

Prompt from here.

Inspired by this.

Note: Most text used in phone conversation (indicated by >> and <<) was taken from the source image.

Cover

AO3

Of course Stiles would drop his phone in the toilet after being startled by a drunk person who proceeded to puke on Stiles because he was closer than the stool. Of course the phone would be unsalvageable—not that Stiles wanted to save it after it splashed down into the mix of water and urine.

Of course, Stiles would lose his contacts and all his videos, pictures, and random thoughts put into the notes and sounds. Three years of his life gone just like that. Of fucking course.

And now, Stiles had a new phone courtesy of his dad’s contract. But, he didn’t have his contacts yet which sucked because his friends refused to tell him which ones they were when they texted and he was playing a guessing game. He’d already pissed off Erica and Lydia because he hadn’t responded properly to either of them. Although, to be fair, he thought it was Scott texting both times since they brought up an intimate shortcoming.

Stiles groaned and smacked his head against the table. This whole week sucked so bad. And to top it off Lydia was requiring his presence at her annual donations ball, never mind that Stiles barely made enough to support living. Now she wanted him to rub elbows with the bigwigs of Beacon Hills.

He sighed, tucking his hands under his legs because the urge to tug at his hair was too great to ignore but Lydia would kill him if he messed it up. She was supposed to be picking him up in a few minutes, and even sitting felt taboo.

Jesus but he needed to unload this bullshit on someone. His dad was busy with work, and his friends weren’t emotionally available right now. Stiles jumped up and started pacing.

Where the hell was Lydia?

Just when he decided to get a drink of water, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

>>I’m here for you.

Which of his friends was that? Stiles scrolled through his meager contacts, each one assigned multiple initials until he could get the actual names. The only contact that was proper was his dad’s, and it was definitely not his dad texting him. Stiles didn’t even know if his dad could text.

It also wasn’t Lydia/Erica/Scott/Boyd. That left Isaac—unlikely—Danny—probable—Allison—also probable—and Harley—who he hadn’t talked to since college graduation four years ago.

Safest bet was just to respond in as neutral of a way as he could.

<<Thanks :) I’m going through a tough time so it means a lot.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he added another text.

<<And sorry, I lost all my contacts. Who is this?

Couldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe this friend would finally take pity on him and give him a real name.

Two minutes and thirty seconds later, a response came in.

>>This is your Uber driver.

>>I am here to pick you up.

Stiles frowned down at his phone. Lydia was supposed to pick him up. She specifically said she would. She knew Stiles didn’t have enough money to take a cab, or even an Uber, to her event.

Oh God, he’d just sent an inappropriate response to an Uber driver, a complete stranger, who was only here to drive him to his destination. God, this was so mortifying.

Stiles contemplated texting the Uber driver that he was suddenly ill. Projectile vomiting uncontrollably ought to do the trick. He would text Lydia too but he wasn’t sure which number was hers or even if he had the right one in his phone.

His phone buzzed again before he could make a decision.

>>Your date already paid for your ride.

Well, that was it then. If Lydia had called the Uber and paid the Uber, then the least Stiles could do was actually take the Uber to the venue. He could come up with an excuse to bow out gracefully before wallets were opened. Plus, he’d get some free food. Fancy shindig like this was bound to have some interesting if not fully edible hor d’oeuvres.

<<Coming.

Stiles checked his reflection—still acceptable by his standards. Lydia’s were something else entirely and Stiles was never up to par so he stopped trying once he felt he was sufficiently spiffed up—before he headed outside.

He froze on his front step, staring in awe at the black Camaro idling by the curb. The passenger side was to his house so it was a little hard to make out the driver but Stiles thought he saw styled stubble on a strong jaw line and soft looking lips. The upper face was obscured by a pair of reflective aviators which should have looked dickish and out of place, but fit very well with the Camaro and the leather jacket the driver was wearing.

Stiles leaned down by the lowered passenger window. “Hey, since this is a two-door,” he said, “do you want me to sit up front or in the back?”

The driver eyed Stiles. “Front,” he said gruffly. “Getting into the back might wrinkle your suit.”

“True.” Stiles climbed into the passenger side, tucking his phone, wallet, and keys into the tiny hidden pocket in the suit’s jacket. “I’m Stiles.” He offered his hand to the driver.

After a beat, he took it, shaking it quickly. His hand was warm and dry, a little rough with calluses but a nice hand to be sure. And it was also the first human contact Stiles had had in over three days.

“Derek,” the driver said. “Your date gave me the address where I’m supposed to drop you. It’s about three miles outside of town.” Derek stared at Stiles pointedly until he buckled his seat belt. Then, Derek pulled away from the curb, focusing entirely on driving.

“Great.” Stiles nodded, wishing he hadn’t put his phone away just so that he could fiddle with something because it seemed as if Derek was done talking for the time being. Stiles bit his lip to keep any and all observations to himself since most people, especially those that didn’t know him, didn’t appreciate his running commentary.

It was a quiet ride.

Too quiet.

Derek was too focused, and Stiles had the wild thought that maybe Derek hadn’t been sent by Lydia, after all, he’d only referred to her as Stiles’ “date.” Maybe Derek was a serial killer preying on vulnerable young adults well-dressed by their friends but still too poor to pay for their own Uber rides. Then, he had the thought that maybe he was supposed to tip Derek.

Hell no he wasn’t tipping a potential serial killer…even if he enjoyed the way Derek drove, paying attention to all the legal driving laws until they were on the outskirts of town and then he punched the accelerator and let Stiles feel the power of the Camaro as they wound around curves, heading for the preserve.

Stiles watched the road as intently as Derek did, counting the dashed lines as best he could. He kept having to start over but it was okay, it was helping calm him.

Until Derek opened his mouth and said, “I could, you know.”

Stiles startled. “Could what?” he asked. Could…kill him? Drive off a cliff? Dump his body in an unmarked grave?

“No, what?” Derek scowled, eyebrows pulling tight over his eyes as he glared at the road. “Why would I do any of those things? I’m not a killer.”

“Sorry,” Stiles murmured. One of these days, his dad always said, his mouth was going to get him in trouble. Shame it happened today. He would probably have to tip Derek a lot to get him to forgive the fact that he thought he was a serial killer.

He fished out his wallet, thumbing it open and immediately closing it and tucking it away again. Internally, he screamed “FUCK!” as loud as he could. He was flat broke. Not even a dollar.

Lydia had better have given Derek a tip for the shit she should know Stiles would put him through. She was the one reneging on her promise to pick him up for her charity event.

“So,” Derek said, suddenly, “I could listen, you know, to you if it would make you feel better?”

“Uh,” Stiles said intelligently. “What?”

“Listen. To you.” Derek shrugged. He cut a quick glance at Stiles before refocusing on the road. “You said you were going thought a lot and that it was nice to have someone there for you. So, go ahead, talk.”

Stiles eyed him suspiciously. No one ever wanted Stiles to talk. Not those that knew him well. Except for Scott. Scott was always good for a bitching session. Lately though Scott had been busy with work and his twin girls and juggling moving his mom into a smaller house. Derek did not know the hell he was asking for.

“You got a moment?” Stiles asked, just to confirm that Derek was as much of a masochist as he thought h was.

Derek shrugged again. “Nowhere to be,” he said evenly. “Just driving you out to the event of the year.”

And damn, that sounded bitter.

“Are you sure you wanna listen to me? Sounds like you might have something to say.”

Derek sighed. “Just talk.”

So, Stiles launched into a recap of his shitty week, and in the middle of backtracking for backstory, jumping forward to what-ifs and will-bes, he realized that his shitty week had actually been more like a shitty month and he was seriously broke.

“I’m not even sure I can go to this thing, you know,” he told Derek, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “It’s something Lydia helps organize every year, and she ropes me in every time.”

“But then all the guests start donating and you can’t do it, so it just makes you feel worse.”

Stiles clicked his tongue and pointed at Derek. “Exactly. I mean, I don’t even have enough to tip you for this ride.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

At the same time, they both said, “Lydia took care of it.”

“Wait,” Stiles said, “so you actually know Lydia’s name?”

“You literally just said it,” Derek said gruffly. He nodded then, almost resolutely, “Yeah, she’s a family friend. She and my sister use tonight to solicit donations for different, worthy causes. I’m sent out as a chauffeur, and later, I’ll be ferrying the drunks home.”

“How much did Lydia pay you to drive me?”

Derek’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. “You wanna grab something to eat,” he said instead. “My treat?”

“I want you to answer my question,” Stiles said. “How. Much. Did. Lydia. Pay. You. To. Drive. Me.”

“Wow,” Derek whistled. “That’s dedication.”

“Just answer the damn question.”

Derek sighed, pulling to the side of the road and pulling off his sunglasses. He folded the bows neatly before tucking them into the visor.

Stiles let out an incomprehensible sound, irritated by the deliberate wait, and Derek ducked his head.

“She didn’t pay me at all,” he admitted finally.

“Why not?”

Derek shrugged. He seriously needed to stop doing that. The leather jacket did not look like it could handle any more vigorous activity.

“She said you were cute and that I was your type.”

“What?” Stiles squeaked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I just thought you’d prefer actually going somewhere that didn’t have an obligatory price tag attached. Lydia said you liked greasy spoons and holes in the walls.”

“Clichés,” Stiles said in disbelief. “You think a cliché is going to win me over, Mr. Murder brows?”

“What do my eyebrows have to do with this?”

“Think again, Mr. I’m-Not-a-Serial-Killer-and-your-friend-wants-to-set-us-up-together.”

“Seriously? I just thought you’d like to eat something that you could pronounce instead of fancy French shit that does not taste good. Trust me on that.” Derek made a face as if recalling the not-good French shit he’d eaten lately.

“I,” Stiles faltered, turning away. Food? Convenient that they were now parked outside the Burger Joint, the greasiest spoon and most hole-in-the-wall restaurant anywhere close to Beacon Hills. “This isn’t Lydia’s function,” Stiles said, staring at the illuminated sign proclaiming the “best burgers in town.” It had been years since Stiles had eaten here. It still looked as cheesy as ever, the 50s décor screaming for an update.

“Duh,” Derek said. “I’m buying. Let’s go. You can keep telling me all about how your friends are being dickheads and not giving you their numbers over a couple of Number Fives.”

“I’m not a Number Five,” Stiles protested, following Derek’s lead and scrambling out of the car. “I’m at least a Number Eight or Nine.”

“The Number Five comes with onion rings,” Derek said, as if that was the only argument to be made.

“Yeah, well, the Number Eight comes with curly fries and the Nine comes with cheese curds. If you’re buying me food, you are not making me eat onions when I could have potatoes or cheese.”

“Deal,” Derek said. Stiles grinned at him and Derek returned the smile. At first, it looked painful, like Derek was unsure of what his mouth was doing, but by the time Stiles had shimmied out of his suit jacket, thrown it over the back of his seat, retrieved his phone and wallet, and run a hand through his hair, the smile looked more natural, fond and kind. It lit up Derek’s face, making his eyes sparkle.

Stiles stumbled over nothing and would have fallen flat on his face if Derek hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him.

Damn but if Stiles wasn’t already tripping into trouble, love barely a concept but flutters in his stomach all the same. At least he waited until they were seated, menus in their faces even though they both knew what they wanted, before he let his emotions get the best of him as he stared unabashedly at Derek. Their waiter, a guy Stiles went to school with, seemed to think they needed more time, and he scooted off to top off a few deputies’ mugs while Derek scanned the drink list and Stiles watched him.

“I should probably let Lydia know that I’m not going to make it to her party.”

“Oh, she knows,” Derek said. He laid his menu down, reaching across the table to tug Stiles’ down too. “She didn’t actually pay me to pick you up. Truth is, she didn’t say that I was your type. She didn’t even use the word ‘cute’ to describe you.”

The bottom of Stiles’ stomach fell out. “No?” he said, as nonchalantly as he could, lifting his menu back up to cover his face. Derek jerked it down again.

“No,” he said. “She had a picture on her phone that she was showing to Laura, my sister. I happened to see it and I…I knew I had to meet you.”

“But, you didn’t know if you were my type?” Stiles was confused.

Derek’s blush deepened. “I didn’t know if I was your type,” he admitted softly, “but I knew you were mine. I was hoping that I would be, but it’s okay if I’m not. I’ll still let you bend my ear when you need someone to listen. You already have my number. Call me anytime.”

“You don’t know what you just unleashed,” Stiles said, leaning back and smiling so wide the corners of his mouth hurt. “But, before we get into the subject of attraction, let’s get through this date. Although, I think you’re a weirdo for those onion rings.”

Derek hummed. “Guess you’ll just have to try to convert me,” he said, a small, private smile curving his lips. “I look forward to it.”

“So do I.”

~ The End ~

[1987vampire]

Momma Hale AU

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Word Count: 1844

Warnings: None

Request:  @tanovic54321  SAID: Can you do a momma hale au imagine where like everyone is a kid or baby, like everyone who is a teen now is a baby or toddler & they are all Derke & her's bio or adopted werewolf/supernatural being babies & it's just a bunch of fluffy scenarios with like baby Erica scaring baby Stiles, ext

A/N: I try to make it to where my imagines don’t state gender, but the way I wrote this is a female reader. I apologize to any non-female readers.

Also, I wrote the s1 & s2 teens instead of like THEM ALL

Extra: It’s not specifically stated, but the ages go from oldest to youngest in this order: Boyd, Scott, Allison, Erica, Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, Stiles. The ages run from 4 y/o - 9 y/o

               Nobody really knew why they had adopted a number of kids they did, but they were known around town. Derek and y/n showed up one day at an adoption center wanting one child and walked out with eight completely different children, ranging in looks and ages. Whenever asked, y/n said she couldn’t pick just one and often times would tell stories about them. She was their mother in every way but blood, and you could see it in the twinkle in her eye. It wasn’t uncommon to see her with at least two of her children walking around town as they always seemed to want to go somewhere. They were the official ‘family goals’ in Beacon Hills. This is just some of their adorable tales.

~~

               Y/N ran in the living room as she heard a childish scream. She ran into the opening only to be met with a semi-normal sight. Derek and Scott sat in the middle of the room with uneasy looks on their faces. Y/N’s eyebrow rose and she crossed her arms. It was an intimidating sight to both boys. “What did you do,” she questioned, head tilting slightly. Both boys looked at the other before pointing to the other, eyes wide with worry.

               Y/N watched and chuckled lightly before looking around the room, nothing seemingly wrong. She then took a few strides into the room and looked behind the couch. Halfheartedly pushed under the couch, glass shard peaked out, the glass to her favorite lamp. She let out a sigh before stepping back and returning to the position she held before. The boys pointed to each other once again making her laugh all over again. “You’re really going to blame your son,” she questioned Derek.

               He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, nodding slightly. Y/N shook her head and placed her hand on her forehead, questioning why she decided to marry him. “Just clean it up,” she groaned out, immediately hearing him stand up and rush to the closet, the tiny feet of Scott following him.

               “Oh, and you’re taking all the kids out tomorrow,” she yelled at him as she exited the room, the sound of things falling out of the closet following her.

~~

               Y/N sang softly to the young child in her arms. Boyd had come down with some type of sickness and refused to fall asleep when he needed to. It was only two in the afternoon, but she had been awake all night taking care of him. The thing about Boyd is he never cried when he needed something. He would just sigh and stay quiet as if you were supposed to know what he needed. So when he became ill, neither of you knew what to really do. Since when did werewolves become ill?

               Y/N rocked Boyd softly, his head lolling to the crook in her neck. He let out quiet sniffles that could be heard in her room beside them. Y/N trudged into the other room, smiling when the rest of her children wrapped themselves around her leg.

              “Is he okay, mommy,” Stiles asked, gripping my pant leg tightly.

              “Yeah, baby, he’ll be fine,” I said, ruffling his hair with my free hand before sitting on her bed. Boyd let out a quiet whimper and gripped her shoulder tightly.

              “Mommy looks tired,” Stiles ‘whispered’ to Allison.

              “I’m fi – “ Y/N tried to speak but cut herself off with a yawn. “I’m fine.” She reassured. “How about,” she said, yawning and pulling each child onto the bed one by one. “we all just take a nap.” Y/N laid down on the bed, feeling the younger ones crawl up and snuggle into her. The warmth made her sigh in content. She looked around and pushed them closer. Boyd was still on her chest, Isaac on her stomach. Erica was laying on her left side. Stiles wrapped himself around a leg while Scott took the other. Allison and Lydia laid near each other near Stiles and Scott, enjoying the warmth in the area. Jackson was the last one, laying his head on her open side. It was slightly uncomfortable but brought a smile to her face nonetheless.

              They laid like that for hours, falling in and out of sleep, enjoying the others company. When nightfall finally came, Derek walked in from work, wondering why the house was so quiet, only to be met with a sight that would make anyone smile. He chuckled quietly before joining them all on the bed, immediately feeling some of the children roll over to cuddle into him.

~~

              Y/N stalked into the living room as she heard shouts resonating through the house. There was always at least a fight a day in that house, and it never ceased to annoy her. She stepped into the living room to see Jackson taunting Scott. Scott looked to Y/N sadly while Jackson ranted about how Allison thought Jackson was the better brother. His voice trailed off when he saw Y/N standing there, his head immediately dropping. She sighed and looked at the two before walking over and picking them up.

              She first placed Jackson in a corner, mumbling about time out, and then placed Scott beside Stiles as she knew he would cheer him up. She rubbed her head, annoyed, and walked over to the kitchen. She placed her head on the table and sighed. A few seconds later, she felt someone rub her shoulders, taking out the knots. The familiar hands ran over her back making her let out a low moan. It had been a while since she had a backrub, and it felt great.

              Her head rolled to the side and Derek took this opportunity to press a kiss to the side of her neck. She hummed in contentment and smiled at him. “You’re home early,” she said, sitting up.

              “Yeah, figured you might want some help for once,” he said, grabbing her hand and rubbing her back with the other.

              “That’s nice of you,” she said, turning to face him. He nodded and dipped down to kiss her before picking her up. She let out a squeal of surprise and clung to his shoulders to stay steady. He laughed loudly before dropping her on the couch, earning the surprised yell of Lydia. Y/N’s feet ended up in her lap causing her to laugh and sit up to pick her up, placing Lydia on her lap. She smiled down at the younger girl and moved back to the arm as Derek left.

              “Mommy,” the girl said, playing with the ends of her strawberry blonde hair. Y/N hummed for her to continue. “One day, I want a love like you and daddy.”

              Y/N smiled brightly at the girl and pulled her closer. “I’m sure you’ll find your prince like I did,” she stated happily. Lydia smiled brightly and jumped excitedly before crawling off Y/N’s lap and running off into another room, yelling for Allison so she could tell her what Y/N said.

~~

               Y/N watched in amusement as Erica tiptoed from behind the couch. The blonde motioned for her mom to stay quiet before sneaking up behind Stiles who was happily watching Star Wars for the billionth time. She crept up behind him and flicked out her claws before jumping out and scaring the younger boy. Stiles let out a girlish scream, flailed his arms, and fell to the ground, an ‘umph’ falling from his lips. Erica screeched out a laugh and fell onto her butt, laughing. Y/N let out a quiet laugh before standing up to help Stiles up.

               She lazily picked the boy up and placed him back on the floor, upright. He looked at her in terror before looking back at Erica. Y/N simply huffed a laugh and told Erica to apologize. The blonde happily did so before hugging her brother and telling him it was simply a joke. They then sat and watched Star Wars together, Stiles constantly questioning her about ‘how she could do that with her hands’, fascination washing over his tiny face.

~~

               Isaac wrapped himself around Y/N’s leg, refusing to let go. He let out constant cries as he tried to keep himself there. Y/N let out a sigh and looked to the teacher with a sorry expression. The teacher simply waved her off and told her it happened all the time.

               “Come on, baby,” you need to go to class. It was his first day of kindergarten, and he was absolutely terrified. He whimpered about how there were too many people and the classroom was too small. The mother picked him up, bouncing him slightly to calm him down. The teacher returned once more causing Isaac to bury his face in Y/N’s neck.

               The teacher smiled kindly before speaking. “If you ever need to, I know a great online class he can take instead. I know many people say homeschooling is bad for your kid, but I know how many children your child has, and if anything, take him to the park to play with kids. As long as you don’t deprive him of social interaction, he should be okay. I know many parents who waited until high school to enroll their kids into public school. For many, they show better improvement that way. I’m not saying you have to, but you may like to consider the decision. I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

               Y/N smiled brightly at the young teacher and nodded. “I think I might try that. Thank you so much,” she said, feeling Isaac perk up a bit at the idea. She quietly excused herself and left the classroom, smiling down at the boy in her arms. “Guess we’re trying something new.”

~~

               Allison and Erica grabbed their mom’s leg, trying to get her attention. Y/N looked down and raised a questioning brow.

               “Mommy, can you teach us how to fight,” they questioned at the same time. “Please, please, please,” they drawled out.

               “Oh, um, okay,” Y/N said, surprised at the sudden interest. “Come here,” she said, walking to the basement. She heard the tiny pats of their feet following her and turned around to see them stumbling after each other. She laughed before picking them up and walking down the stairs. She flicked on the light, and placed the girls on the ground, watching their faces fill with awe at the sight.

               Weapons littered the walls in the basement, every inch of the room taken over with knives, guns, mountain ash and more, all hidden behind protective glass. The girls gasped and ran around the room, looking at all the weapons. I guess it wasn’t that surprising, it fit their attitudes. The girls squealed at turned to Y/N for their mood.

               The next few hours were filled with teaching the kids how to work with the weapons, a smile on her face the whole time. Who knew they were naturals?

[whifferdills]

"The Pyramid at the End of the World" quicktakes:

the Previously On/Now intercutting was a neat trick, i like it

Bill/Penny are adorable. i love that Penny very much does not believe Bill's story, but hangs around anyway

also i love that the simulation only got it slightly wrong - interrupting UN, not interrupting pope. and that instead of just running, Penny excuses herself. still 'fuck this i'm audi 500' but less of a door closed between them, and less - depending on how the simulation was really constructed - less informed by Bill's fear of, or expectation of, abandonment

'straight and narrow' lmao

12 playing something twinkly and mournful on the guitar while monologue-ing, i am weak for this

is this the new American Football album? delete all your rock star AUs, 12 clearly is an Emo. they filled in as guitar player for Christie Front Drive once, pass it on

forreal tho that shot from the floof to 12's stupid face like i want to stay gen here but

(the untucked shirt with unbuttoned collar and cuffs is not helping here. this rumpled can't-be-fucked poorly-put-together boy. and is the red shirt matching the monks' red robes like a Thing orrr?)

12's continuing championing of Bill gettin' some

it's the butterfly effect 12 was making fun of Bill for suggesting in "Thin Ice". i am not smart enough to know what this means. good editing, tho, i like how the glass-breaking glasses-breaking inserts pop up as punctuation

Erica is great, can she stay? (i'd imagine the casting of a little person was deliberate, 'the right person for the job' isn't enough to change what a default, average character looks like. but the role really could have been played by anyone, so the fact that we got Rachel Denning is just, it's nice, it's good, the bar is very low but still. representation matters. casual off-handed no big deal rep doubly so.)

”What do you depend on?” “Air, water, food, beer.” you and me both Nardole

"Are you following me?" the AV Club described this bit as vaudeville and, yes, it's such a corny old-school comedic beat, and PCap and Lucas sell it, or undersell it, as a direct bit of physical comedy that's goofy, yeah, but not unreasonably so and it’s so nice

(i do kind of enjoy it when PCap chews the scenery but his ability to toss away lines has been a highlight of the past three seasons and i'll miss that, in addition to all the other things i'll miss about 12)

Peter Harness, what are you trying to say here? love is consent? is this About something? This feels like classic Harness, like i can see all the shit he loves and insists on taping onto Dr Who, a place where What Peter Harness Wants doesn't quite belong. the big world-trotting set pieces, the conception of Humanity as a vague blob represented by archetypes, the ill-advised attempt at following real-world rules, the grand metaphors that get fucked to high hell somewhere along the way. none of the stuff between the military leaders rises above 'acceptable i guess', and it's mediocre in a way where i can tell it's meant to be Deep and Insightful, but i can't figure how. i do know that the aesthetic rubs me the wrong way

i will admit that the Doomsday Clock is absolutely the sort of thing DW does well playing off. just it doesn't quite...doesn't quite land.

12 knowing Bill has a Look on her face - like that they know how bullshit of a move this is, and that Bill - as kind of the stand-in for their conscience - will disapprove

bit of an Arrival vibe here, huh.

and a bit of a "End of the World pt II" vibe - the evil defeated, the Dr is doomed by something small. here it's 12's flaws that nearly do them in, the lying and hiding, the hubris. compared to 10, whose death was the good in them coming out, just made noisy by their flaws

Pearl Mackie hit that ending out of the park, a solid donger. no Harness episode complete without an iffy moment sold by the acting. (it's not bad, or out of character, and far less obnoxious than "Kill the Moon" or "The Zygpon Fuck You", but it's got that same sort of...like the Big Moment was conceived of first, and the character involved was shoved into it. it works better than it deserves to, imo)

“tell you what, old man, you’d better get my planet back” ok so maybe some lines are worth contorting your narrative to lead up to cause DANG

and PCap, too, that mix of refusing to admit things are fucked and the dawning realization that things are fucked and the ‘yeah ok so this is how i go” anyway when 12 regenerates into 13 i will Die

has anyone done the gifset comparing "you look at me and you don't see me" of "Deep Breath" with the I Can't See A Single Ding Darn Thing 12 of these past few episodes

s/o to whoever designed the 'putting the sonic glasses on' sound bc it's not too much but just There enough to underscore the movement

the strands-of-your-story, the three fates (ish) prop for the simulation thing is quite nice.

i do appreciate that 12 isn't given, like, Daredevil superpowers, just sunglasses that sort of know the layout of a room and the basic stats of the people inside it. yes their blindness is handwaved away, but

what is Nardole i mean really

his “okay here we go” when the Dr nearly comes clean

is it wrong that like. i’m upset that the next episode is kind of a reset, okay, so we don't get the Dr panicked and swooning over a dying Nardole?

and what is a Twelvedole god the two of them ok

"i’m not just sexy" awjgfeghagfwFG

“oh, and tidy up your room” like i’m not saying Twelvedole is canon but

Bill getting that moment of 'actually fuck you and fuck this what is wrong with you' AND the 'screw you i'm saving your ass' beat it's so good

so the Monks are Cybermen right like this is where this is going

NEXT ON: Missy! Bill reverse-fridges the Dr! Missy! my heart probably is just gonna fucking explode