#ruth isn't in this but whatever

[heybiji]

rude man

[zeromorph]

I'm too aware of the genre we're working in here to particularly expect the Beast to be a friend, but I sure want the Beast to be a friend. "I saved him the trouble!" you're perfect.

"it's just a mirror" hey what the fuck

[prythianpages]

Dandelions | Masterlist

݁˖ ❀ ⋆ A series of imagines/drabbles inspired by Ruth B's Dandelions, in which Azriel's mate is a Green Witch ݁˖ ❀ ⋆

☪ = smut ☁︎ = fluff `♡´= angst

One Shots

𓇢𓆸 A Field of Dandelions ☁︎ `♡´ | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of Spring and Autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

𓇢𓆸 au where you're the one who says the line "please don't talk to me like that" [click here] `♡´

𓇢𓆸 feyre's reaction to Az and you [click here] ☁︎

𓇢𓆸 I Love You ☁︎ | The moment you realize you're in love with Azriel.

𓇢𓆸 HCs of Az and you accepting the bond [click here] ☁︎ ☪

𓇢𓆸 I Put A Spell On You ☁︎ | A night out at Rita's. You're first outing after accepting the bond.

𓇢𓆸 The Family Reunion ☁︎ | Azriel unknowingly and accidentally welcomes your family into your home.

𓇢𓆸 My Sweet Little Wildflower `♡´ | After begging Azriel to take you with him to Windhaven, he finally concedes. But his worries of you getting hurt come to life when you're kidnapped.

𓇢𓆸 The Love Potion ☁︎ ☪ | Azriel asks you for an elixir to soothe his aches and you accidentally give him the aphrodisiac you had made for Nesta, bringing to surface one of his hidden desires.

𓇢𓆸 a little headcanon of Az and you having a daughter [click here] ☁︎

𓇢𓆸 headcanons of you and Az starting a family (focus on your three children) [click here] [bonus]

𓇢𓆸 Slipping Through My Fingers ☁︎ | It's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go.

𓇢𓆸 Sprinkles ☁︎ | You and your daughter return back from visiting your family in the Middle with an unexpected surprise.

𓇢𓆸 But the Worms ☁︎ | Azriel is woken up by one of your daughters in the middle of the night to answer some of her questions.

𓇢𓆸 Strange Love | Alora nearly sends Azriel into a mini crisis when she tells you she has a boyfriend.

more drabbles/HCs

˖𓍢ִ໋🕸 I Put A Spell On You pt 2 | You're the hot witch gf and they let you do whatever the hell you want.

˖𓍢ִ໋🕸 Very Demure | How each witch would respond to the "trend."

a/n: If you have any ideas or would like to request something, feel free to send it my way. I can't promise to always be able to write an actual imagine but I can definitely do some headcanons.

[witch au masterlist]

[bewarethegrim]

Roy and Jamie would absolutely accidentally fall into a total power exchange relationship without noticing. One day after 4am training, Roy, without thinking, tells Jamie "The blue headband." And without hesitation Jamie picks the blue headband from his collection that has gathered at Roy's.

And it's the little things, right? Roy is already in charge of Jamie's meal plan, so it just makes sense that he cook for Jamie, since he knows his nutrition plan better than anyone. Roy is already training Jamie privately in the mornings, and with his new role as assistant coach, it just made sense that he paid a bit of extra attention to Jamie and his workouts, and Jamie was known to overwork himself, so it just made sense that Jamie only work out while Roy was around, watching him to make sure he didn't over do it.

And one day on their day off, and Ruth had just picked up Phoebe who'd just spent the day playing in the yard with Jamie while Roy rested his knee and did reports, that something in his mind clicked.

Jamie spent almost every moment of his day with Roy now. He slept over at Roy's so he could sleep an extra 20 minutes before 4am training, and since he arrives to work with Roy, Roy brings him home- his home that is. And Roy tells Jamie to go stretch out while he makes dinner. After dinner, he has Jamie take a proper shower, and while he does, Roy lays out the clothes for Jamie to wear to bed.

And in all that time, months at this point, and at no point has Jamie asked for a night away (and isn't that an interesting thought, that Jamie would ask to go out, ask permission, like he belonged to Roy. And maybe he did in a way) But Jamie *hadn't* which means that Jamie had gone on a date or slept with anyone in months.

"Jamie?"

Jamie looks over from where he's sitting at the kitchen island, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. "Yeah, Coach?"

"Why haven't you gone out on any dates recently?"

And Jamie pauses. He looks, genuinely confused for a moment.

"You haven't told me I could." And Jamie says that as if it's a totally normal thing for your coach to decide when you're allowed to go out on dates.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Roy demands, feeling off kilter in this conversation.

Jamie shrugs. "Ever since I just let you decide what I do, life's just been easier, innit?"

Something dark and possessive curls in Roy's chest at that. He'd made Jamie's life better by being in control. He'd always been overbearing, especially in relationships, but maybe. Maybe they just hadn't been Jamie.

"Do you want me to start going on dates?" Jamie asks, something mischievous in his tone, but there was something else. Hope? No that wasn't right. Desperation, maybe. But for what, Roy didn't know.

"And if I told you no more dates? Indefinitely?" Roy decides to test the limits. How far would Jamie allow him to push?

Jamie shrugged. "Already been doing that, haven't I?"

And Jamie is so smug, looking so proud of himself. Roy has to take him down, just a little.

"What if I told you that you couldn't cum without my permission?" And oh, that's an interesting reaction. Jamie's eyes flutter and his cheeks redden deeply. He swallows before saying "Whatever you think is best, Coach."

And at some point, Roy has entered Jamie's space. He brings one hand, much steadier than he feels, to Jamie's chin. He's taking a risk, as calculated as it is.

"And if I told you only I could make you cum?" And Jamie melts, big eyes looking up at Roy like he held all the answers, and maybe to Jamie, he did.

"Please..." Jamie whimpers, his hands coming to wrap around the fabric of Roy's shirt.

And Roy has to take a deep breath, he needed to think rationally. He steps away from Jamie, and tries not to crumble at the pathetic sound Jamie makes as he does.

"Jamie-"

"Please Roy, I'll be good I promise? And I have been, haven't I? Doing everything you tell me to."

Roy is back, bringing Jamie close to his chest. "Yeah you have, Jamie. I'm not upset with you, never with you my good boy." He pauses. "Not anymore, anyways." He teases, and it works because he feels Jamie laugh.

"I just need to be clear, what we're doing, what we are. Am I just your coach? Or do you want more from me?"

This time it's Jamie who pulls back as he scoffs. "You haven't been just me coach in months." He looks a little bashful. "Always had a thing for ya, even when ya hated me and I lived to piss you off. You've seen the stupid poster in me room back home."

Jamie finally meets Roy's eyes, brave as ever, his boy. "I want to be your boyfriend, or partner. If ya want that too."

Roy smiles, letting Jamie nuzzle into his hand. "That is what I want, Jamie. More than anything."

"And to keep telling me what to do?"

And Roy laughs but nods. "Whatever my boy needs."

And a month or so later, Keely comes over and witnesses how they act with each other at home, and realises that oh my god you idiots are in a TPE relationship and cue Roy doing in depth research, printing out contracts and establishing safe words. Jamie happily does whatever Roy asks of him, just like he always does. And Jamie knows he could've said no at any point in this, in fact he had, when Roy tried to get him to eat mushrooms (he had limits!) but he knows the safe words makes Roy feel better, knowing how much power he has over Jamie. And if it makes Roy happy, Jamie is happy to do it.

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[gffa]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Do you take rec requests? If so, can I ask for your recs for Obi Wan centric fics where Obi Wan is just absolutely adored by everyone around him? Like people love him, think he's great, beautiful, talented, etc. you could also include fics where Anakin isn't one of his adoring fans but he comes around eventually. If you've ever read the Shoulder The Sky series by @kcrabb88 ? Where Anakin is kind of weird about Obi Wan in the beginning but he'd die for him at the end? Yeah like that.

Preferably no Obitine please, and also no order 66, if you would. They can be fix its or maybe they just don't get to order 66 in canon. Long and short is fine. I just want to read fic to justify my absolute rabidity over Obi Wan Kenobi.

Yknow if you're going to answer the ask? Might as well include every fic that you know that portrays Obi Wan very well. Whether everyone thinks so or not, I just want an excuse to fangirl over Obi Wan. Whether it's cute adorable initiate obi wan; smart skilled Padawan Kenobi, best master in the galaxy Kenobi, best general in the gar Kenobi, unfuckwithable Kenobi that everyone knows not to piss off, the Jedi's best member, whatever. Just fics of obi wan being great, whether people acknowledge it and love him, or acknowledge it and go still like prey animals when he looks at them

Hi! Oh, this is going to be a bit of a difficult set, mostly because avoiding Order 66 is a tough one, and I'm not sure how you are with various Obi-Wan pairings (which tend to have some good Obi-Wan fic), but I can at least start you out with a few recs sets I've done that have a lot of Obi-Wan fic and hopefully the Order 66 fic will be pretty avoidable.

My Star Wars fic recs tag (pretty much anything that mentions Obi-Wan in the subject will treat him well)

Obi-Wan Kenobi epic fic

Post-OBW's first two episodes-centric set

It's hard because some of my favorites:

Reprise by Elfpen (absolutely epic time travel fic that does the really good, hard work of showing us the timeline shifting and why it has to be done in baby steps)

Fire and Ice by Yesac (set in an AU where Order 66 happened, but Anakin won the fight and took both Obi-Wan and Padme hostage, and it's about the incredibly long road to recovery from there, which does have some love = attachment minor, minor notes, but has an Obi-Wan characterization that was fundamental to how I see the character)

Aren't necessarily about Order 66, but it does happen in both those fics, as something that's either being avoided or fixing the aftermath of them, and I'm not sure where you stand on such things, since you don't want Order 66. Same for

The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine (time travel AU where Order 66 happened in Ben's timeline, but not in the one the fic is set during)

Knightrise by deviantaccumulation (this one includes Order 66 happening on-screen, but it's an AU where more Jedi survive and they go into hiding together to rebuild)

where it's time travel to fix things, is that still over your line? Is it about the other characters that love Obi-Wan or the narrative of the story that loves Obi-Wan, because that would change a lot of the recs I make! Not that he's unloved in them, but Cataclasm by dendral is one of my favorites, but it has Obi-Wan off on his own a lot of the time, so the narrative loves him, but the people around him aren't in the room with him, etc. I also have a Jedi culture set of recs, which you can scroll through to find Obi-Wan mentioned in the summary, it's probably going to be about how much everyone loves him. But some good places to start for you would be:

ruth baulding's Lineage series and then her Legacy series. The first series is an epic length run of adventures when Obi-Wan was a padawan with Qui-Gon, and then the second series is his time teaching Anakin, with more adventures

Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, a fantastic look at Jedi theology, philosophy, and interaction, with Obi-Wan in a prominent role.

Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi stonefreeak, which is crack treated seriously, very Jedi-positive, and while it's an ensemble piece overall, Obi-Wan is very much at the heart of the story and the focus will always come back to him. Just so much fun and very soft on the heart, this is a universe where everything goes right.

Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish, which is a time travel fic where Ahsoka goes back into the past and becomes Padawan Obi-Wan's Master instead of Qui-Gon. The fic is kind of harsh on Qui-Gon, but if you love the disaster lineage or if you just want more Obi-Wan & Ahsoka, this fic will scratch the itch so good.

Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) Rhiw, another time travel fic where Order 66 did happen, but the fic is about Legends!Obi-Wan taking a different path from what happened in the first Jedi Apprentice book, instead of becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan the way he did in canon, he and Bruck go to Bandomeer and then get wrapped up in an epic story about Obi-Wan slowly changing the galaxy's course.

walk by faith/tell no one what you've seen by Killbothtwins, which is time travel with Obi-Wan after the end of the galactic civil war (the one against the Empire) going back to his 12 year old self and diverting the timeline, with a really great voice for Obi-Wan's character in this fic.

The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye) is a fun young Padawan Obi-Wan fic where he meets Qui-Gon's first apprentice and has a great sense of comedy.

Uncle Ben and Little Luke by phoenixyfriend which is de-aged!Luke and suddenly alive again!Obi-Wan and is just so much fun for a dynamic that doesn't get enough fic. (NEVER ENOUGH.)

Well Met by avocadomoon is one if you don't mind Obi-Wan/Padme fic, where they develop a friendship and later in life just slowly fall into a relationship, where it's about discussions and politics and philosophy and worldbuilding, it's such a subtle dynamic between them in a way that felt so natural to me. I also enjoyed the author's other fic Anamorphosis just as much, too.

[flo-zoinks]

Plzplzplz i love ur headcannons sm!! Could u do some if they found a small cat wander into camp ??

Aw ty!!!!! (This is the first normal hc req I've had LMAO 💀)

HOW EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER REACTS TO A CAT IN CAMP (MY OPINION)

Arthur - quite indifferent to it, probably jokes at least someone else'll be bringing in meat they hunt to camp, much to Dutch's distaste. He sketches it a couple times however

John - doesn't like cats too much, but grows a little close to it by them both sitting in silence in chapter 2 whilst John was still recovering

Javier - wants to keep the cat, often strokes kitty but isnt a huge cat fan, although perhaps he plays guitar whilst the cat listens. Calls it gordito

Pearson - rambles on sight that sailors and navy boys believe cats are good luck to anyone who hears as an excuse to bring up being in the navy. Offhandedly will feed it chunks that can't go into the main stew for whatever reason later on- (Arthur hates that)

Uncle - ignores the cat mostly but they are often found in the future lazing around together in camp. The people in camp say it's Uncle's protege

Bill - Worried on how Cain would interact with the kitty but if all goes well and they keep the cat he likes to keep the 2 animals together, insisting Cain could use some other friends

Hosea - Wants to keep the cat as long as its self reliant (eg hunts for itself), saying it'll boost a camp morale to have a pet. Reads the newspaper whilst it sits on the table together.

Dutch - immediately uses it as reason to have another speech praising cats for not following society's clutch and doing as they please with no care. Calls it Ruth (Ruthie by most)

Mary-Beth - falls in love with the cat, likes to write with them curled up on her lap and brushes it with a special hairbrush she (stole) got. Once also (stole) got a cute pendant and put it on the cat as a collar - though had to take it off knowing it would get stolen and put the kitty in danger

Tilly - also wants to keep it, and rants to the cat about Miss Grimshaw whilst the kitty listens. Probably a little protective of it and wants the cat to be a pet for the girls and keeps it away from select guys

Karen - "aw that's cute". Doesn't really care past that but perhaps makes a sarcastic comment to the cat every once in a while talking shit about someone

Grimshaw - at first didnt want an unhygienic animal here, but quickly grew to love it as a mini helper in removing vermin and mouse. Often is seen walking around camp with the kitty and tells camp members to take notes as it's a lot more clean then half the gang

Abigail - strokes the kitty and likes the cat, though is also quite indifferent to it. However shes one of the first to look for it if it goes missing for Jack's sake

Jack - ADORES THE CAT. Cried a little to Abigail saying he felt guilty for liking a cat which is a dogs enemy, therefore Cain's. But now often they play together and when he has naps the cat curls up close next to him

Trelawny - REALLY likes cats, surprisingly. Ensures Micah isn't near to the kitty and uses it as an assistant for his magic tricks. Says every wizard needs his cat. Probably when disappearing will reappear more often to check up on the cat

Strauss - a little avoiding to it at first thinking it's quite dirty, yet as he spends so much time in camp the cat grows to be his little helper whilst he does work, sitting in silence next to him. The only time Strauss ever shared his wealth was buying the cat a little bed next to his desk, partly to avoid it from sitting on his papers again.

Sean - quite superstitious on cats, so if it came around Christmas time hes very happy to see the cat. Believes it's good luck, but watches it closely in case it let's a mouse escape or purrs with it's back to the fire. Teaches all this to Jack, and likes to pat the cat periodically.

Lenny - doesn't care much for the cat, but if everyone else likes it then he supposes it's a good thing to have in camp. Worries to Hosea on having a cat whilst they move often the cat would struggle to adapt, but Hosea says not to worry as the cat is a lot smarter then half of camp, (he names Bill), and they manage.

Molly - also incredibly superstitious about cats, and at first doesn't want them to keep it saying its unhygienic. After time shes seen with the cat on her lap as she complains about her life to it brushing the kitty. However she says it's only to stop it being messy on her things. Insists it's a she and calls her Princess

Sadie - could not care less about the cat, probably ignores it if it comes close without realising

Charles - likes cats, pats the kitty often and gives it spare food he has. However he can't stand how the cat plays with live food, and had to put some animals out of its misery when the cat got bored with them, much to his disdain

Kieran - doesn't say anything but REALLY wants them to keep it. At first he's a little nervous around the cat but instantly warms up to it soon after and tries to spend all his time with the cat. Tries to get the cat and horses to bond

Micah - "Do we NEED another mangy lazy animal we've already got Swanson" really doesn't want a cat in camp, probably kicked it once without realising but didn't care much. Calls them weak animals for being always 'sneaky' rather than fighting everything head on on

Thanks for asking me!!!❤ what do you think?? HAVE A NICE DAY I LOVED THIS ASK XX

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo and @steddiesongfics.

When I Think About Seventeen

Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Ball | Steddie Song Fics Prompt: New (Springsteen by Eric Church) | Word Count: 2795 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Sexual Innuendo | POV: Eddie | Tags: Baseball, Big Dreams, Canon Divergent Interactions: Childhood, Post-S1, Post-S4, Time Skips, Eddie Munson Lives, Crossing Paths Over The Years, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers

Also right here on ao3.

I bumped into you by happenstance, You probably wouldn't even know who I am, But if I whispered your name, I bet, Still be a spark, And back when I was gasoline, And this old tattoo had brand new ink - Springsteen, Eric Church

1974

Eddie wiggles his four fingers, calling the pitch from behind the plate. A change-up. Harrington's the only pitcher on their team that even has different pitches. With everyone else, Eddie just needs to try and catch whatever wild throw comes free of their hand as they pretend they did it on purpose. 

Not Steve Harrington, though. Steve can place the ball, and it's no different today when the championship is on the line.

Steve nods, accepting the call Eddie's made.

The final pitch hits Eddie's mitt, a strike, the third out. 

It's over, the Hawkins Hawks are finally done for the summer.

And Eddie's done forever.

The rest of the team is jumping all over Steve Harrington on the mound, Tommy Hagan hanging off him, as they all wait for their little gold trophies, and Eddie waddles back to the dugout. He starts stripping off his catcher's gear. The leg guards, and the chest pad. It's all borrowed, not his own, and never quite fit perfectly, anyway.

He lays it in the corner, up next to the chain link fence near the bats. Coach will take it, get back where it needs to go.

Because he's done.

Eddie promised Wayne he'd make it through the season, and he did that. 

But now he's done.

He doesn't like these boys, or this sport, not anymore. And he's not going to force himself to play next year.

Or ever again, for that matter.

He exits the dugout, not sticking around for the trophy presentation or the group picture. 

Wayne doesn't try to make him, just puts an arm around his shoulders as they walk towards his truck. 

"Proud of you, kid. You did it," Wayne says.

Eddie did do it, and now he'll never have to do it again.

1984

Someone is playing Springsteen. Loudly. Eddie doesn't recognize the songs, but the voice, definitely. School's out for summer. Eddie should be done for good, but he failed his senior year and now he's moping about it. 

There shouldn't be anybody at the school right now. He's only here because he had a meeting at the picnic table earlier, and just stayed to draw some. But now Eddie stands near the edge of the woods, and watches Steve Harrington practicing all by himself. He's pitching into a net, and then having to collect all the baseballs himself before starting the whole process over again.

This goes on for several rounds, until Eddie finally can't take it. He's too nosey. 

"What are you doing?" Eddie hollers, and Steve jumps, clearly having no idea he wasn't all alone on the field. His head whips around, looking for the voice that startled him.

"Goddamn, you scared me, Munson," Steve says, when he lays eyes on him, finally.

Eddie chuckles, walking across the field towards him, "Isn't baseball over?"

Steve nods his head, "Yeah. I just…"

"What?" Eddie prods. There's no way Steve Harrington is worried about his starting position for next year. It's summer. He should be playing Babe Ruth, and enjoying his last summer league season before he ages out. Even with whatever weird vibes he's got with Tommy Hagan and the rest of the asshole jocks these days. Eddie has eyes. He knows something is up with all of them.

Eddie doesn't give a shit about sports, the jocks and their problems, but even he knows that Steve Harrington is captain of the swim team, a basketball starter, and has been the starting pitcher since before Eddie got dumped in town.

This is all non-negotiable.

"They're having exhibition baseball at the Olympics this summer."

Eddie laughs, "And you thought, what? As a high school pitcher from Hawkins High, you'd be a shoe-in?"

Steve laughs at that, "No. Not at all. I just, well, what if it isn't an exhibition in 1988? Or 1992?"

Eddie can't argue with that. It's a lofty dream, but shit, Eddie's got some pretty absurd dreams himself. But as far as Eddie knows, Steve isn't even being recruited for college baseball, or anything else for that matter, so the Olympics seem a little far-fetched.

"Well, good luck, I guess?" Eddie says, and turns to head back towards his office in the woods.

"Hey, wait. Would you want to catch a few pitches?"

Eddie thinks Steve must have lost his mind. 

"I don't know anything about baseball, Harrington."

Steve cocks his head to the side, looking more like a confused dog than anything else, "You didn't catch for me?"

Eddie nearly chokes. He'd catch for him, all right, and all the filthy jokes rattle through his brain, like a rapidly fluttering Rolodex, where he can't decide which one to choose. Which one would make Harrington stumble over his words and blush and–

"In Little League. When we were kids? That a different Eddie Munson?" 

Instead of any of those witty comebacks, what comes out is, "You remember that?"

Steve laughs, and offers up a grin, "Was I not supposed to? You were the scrappiest catcher I've ever played with. Nothing snuck between your legs."

Well, that's an image.

Eddie thinks he might be the one blushing. Sports weren't for him. But it's true, balls rarely hit the dirt with him behind the plate. He gave it up because he hated the team aspect. Hated the other boys, and never really felt like he belonged with any of them. Not after losing his mom. Not after moving to this shitty town where the only bright spot has been Uncle Wayne.

But he was good behind home plate.

His own island. Them, all facing one way, and him facing the other.

Seems apt, maybe even more so today.

"I'm sure I'm rusty," Eddie answers, because, you know, it might be fun to see if he's still got it. Just for a minute. What could it hurt, besides his ego and pride? He just failed high school. Those things have already been trampled into the dirt.

"Rusty's fine. You gotta be better than the net," Steve teases, and digs through his baseball bag until he finds a catcher's mitt, tossing it to Eddie.

Eddie squats down, getting into the stance he hasn't been in, in a long time. He pounds his fist into his glove and really hopes he doesn't take one square between the eyes.

Or in the shin. That fucking hurts.

Or, god forbid, his nuts.

He doesn't.

It's like riding a bike. Steve throws strike after strike, dead-on, and Eddie catches them. Steve's better now. Can throw faster. Harder. But Eddie still keeps up. It's muscle memory, even if those muscles haven't been used in a very long time.

"What is this?" Eddie hollers, as Springsteen shouts about baseball and glory days. It's all very on the nose. 

"Springsteen," Steve hollers back.

"No shit, Harrington. What album?"

"Oh," Steve says, "I stopped by Klein's today and bought it."

Steve reaches down and grabs the tape case and brings it over to Eddie. It's Springsteen's ass in blue jeans, a hat shoved in his back pocket. Eddie's pretty up to date on music, all music, and he's never seen this in his life.

"Is it new?"

"Yeah, out today," Steve says, taking it back.

They reset, Steve throws him another fastball, and Eddie throws the ball back again. It hurts a little, he'd just gotten a new tattoo over the weekend. Black bats, stark against his skin, on this throwing arm. He ignores it.

Then, Eddie calls pitches. Sometimes Steve will agree, and sometimes he'll argue silently. Holding up his glove, waving it to indicate what he wants to throw. Eddie lets him. This is his rodeo. Eddie's just along for the ride.

They play, and Eddie feels ten years old. It's actually kind of fun. He's not into sports, not anymore, but there's no pressure here. Just the two of them. Batterymen.

It all ends when it finally gets too dark to see. 

"I know it's a pipe dream," Steve says, soft and low as they pack up the equipment, "I just need out of this town."

Eddie glances over at him, "Me too, Harrington. Me, too."

They part ways, and Eddie doesn't really think about Steve Harrington again until two years later, when he's in a boathouse, running for his life, a broken bottle pressed to Steve's neck.

He lives, they all live, and then part ways.

Such is life, he supposes.

1996

Another bar, another gig on this never ending van tour they've been on for years. It's not good money, but they can make a living playing music, and not everyone can say that. They've been making it work for several years, and they'll keep at it until the wheels fall off.

They aren't famous, will never be famous. But that's okay. They get to do what they love.

Eddie looks up at the television mounted on the wall behind the bar, and it's the Olympics. Baseball.

He smiles, because it suddenly makes him think of Steve Harrington. Makes him think of him at seventeen, at nine, at nineteen. He wonders if he made it. Wonders if he's doing what he loves. Wonders if he'd even remember Eddie if they ran into each other. It's been ten years.

"Hey, it's baseball," Eddie says, and the guy behind the bar chuckles.

"It is."

"Is there, like, a lineup? Who's pitching for the US?"

The guy next to him turns, like he's been waiting for this his entire life. He starts listing off players, and where they're from, what colleges, giving far more information than Eddie wants, but Eddie quickly realizes they're all about twenty-one. College kids, headed for the draft, maybe. 

Steve's nearly as old as him.

There are definitely no thirty-year-old former high school pitchers on Team USA.

Eddie's a little disappointed, and he doesn't know why. It wasn't his dream. He's living his dream. He just thinks Steve should have gotten to live his, too. That's all.

He sits down on the open stool, then gets right back up again, heading to the payphone stuck in the back corner of the bar. He calls Henderson.

"You got a number for Harrington?" Eddie asks, not giving the kid a chance to get wound up about the fact that he hasn't heard from him in a while.

Henderson harasses him, of course he does, but he still coughs up the digits and Eddie drops more change into the slot, then dials.

Steve answers, and Eddie doesn't even greet him, just asks, "What are you watching?"

"Baseball. The Olympics. The United States is trouncing Japan." 

Steve doesn't ask who Eddie is, but Eddie knows he already knows.

"Well, that's funny. Me too. And I wondered if Steve Harrington was their pitcher."

Steve laughs, "Definitely not. I can't believe you even remembered that. That was dumb."

It wasn't dumb, and of course Eddie remembered. He's never forgotten anything about Steve Harrington, especially not after that spring break. He saved his fucking life, and then waved it off like it was nothing.

It wasn't nothing. It was everything.

"You still play?" Eddie asks.

"Baseball? Well, I'm on a co-ed slow pitch softball team with Robin. She's still so uncoordinated, it's ridiculous. Nothing's changed there. But it's fun."

Eddie laughs, "Oh, that hurts my knees to think about."

Steve Harrington giggles in his ear, and Eddie's glad he called. Glad he saw that baseball game and thought of him.

They lull into a bit of silence, and Eddie wonders if this is wrapping up. If it's gonna be over as soon as it started.

"Well, if you're ever in town, come play catch with me. We'll catch up."

Eddie laughs, but mocks his bad pun, "That was awful."

Steve doesn't care. Just laughs like he's absolutely delighted that Eddie called.

Eddie decides he wants to cover Glory Days during their set, and the band goes along with his whim without asking questions. He sings about his friend that was a baseball player in high school, and the band has to know what this is about. 

When he transitions into I'm on Fire, he knows he'll get shit, but he doesn't care. He's gonna sit in this nostalgia for a minute. He's got a bad desire.

A couple months later, fall is cooling everything down, and the band finally have a long enough break to justify venturing away from each other, and he finds Steve in another small town, not all that different from Hawkins. Except, the bad memories aren't tainting it. It's nice. The town, his house.

Eddie climbs the steps to the porch, and knocks. Steve's not expecting him. He might not even be home. But the door opens, and Eddie just holds up his mitt.

The smile that crosses Steve's face is blinding, and Eddie has butterflies. It's unexpected, but not really. Steve swings open the screen door, letting it snap closed behind him, as he yanks Eddie into a hug, like this is something they do.

Maybe it is.

Eddie hugs back. Steve Harrington is an old friend of his, somehow. Ten-year-old Eddie, who hated everything about that damn baseball team, wouldn't believe this turn of events.

Steve ushers him inside, and digs his glove and a ball out of his hall closet.

In his nice, fenced-in yard, Eddie's knees crack when he gets into his stance, and he laughs. He's a rough thirty-one. He knows that. Muscles gnawed away at by bats doesn't leave you exactly the same, Steve knows that, too, but Eddie thinks he's still capable. Maybe. But when that first pitch hits Eddie's hand through leather, Eddie feels at home in a way he didn't even know he could. Not anymore.

Eddie tries to call a pitch, and Steve keeps shaking his head. Fine.

Steve winds up, and the ball seems to float, doing unpredictable shit, before Eddie's able to snag it at the last second.

"Was that a fucking knuckleball?!" Eddie yells. Steve didn't have a knuckleball at nine, that's for damn sure. And he didn't have one at seventeen either, at least not that he showed Eddie during that one, weird afternoon.

"Maybe," Steve teases, coyly. 

"You're trying to trip me up with a passed ball, ruin my stats, is that it?" Eddie accuses, but he's grinning. "Not on my watch, asshole."

Steve just grins, "Well, don't worry. You still got it, old man. We were always a pretty good battery. You and me."

They were. Eddie smiles, and throws the ball back. 

Maybe they've both still got it. Together.

Eddie catches a few more, then stands up, "You got a boombox?"

Steve nods, and they lay down their mitts and go inside. Eddie squats in front of Steve's rack of CDs. Not tapes, not now. Times have changed.

"What are you looking for?" Steve asks.

"Mind your own business, Harrington," he quips and Steve shakes his head.

"Fine, I'll take this out. If you find something acceptable, you bring it on out."

They aren't in any order that Eddie can discern, but finally finds what he's looking for. He knew he'd have it. At least, he hoped he would.

Outside, Eddie shoves it into the top of the boombox. Then he advances through until he gets to track ten. Steve just looks amused, and then he laughs when The Boss's voice fills the air.

"Seems fitting. I, too, had a high school friend that played baseball."

Eddie squats, and his knees don't betray him this time, but Steve's just standing there, looking at him. Not throwing the ball.

Eddie pats his glove. Only short of offering him an engraved invitation to throw the ball.

Steve just looks at him.

"What?" Eddie asks. But he knows what. That look on his face. Eddie understands that look. A hungry heart.

Oh shit.

Eddie swallows.

Steve throws his glove to the ground, and stalks towards him. It should look intimidating, but it doesn't. Eddie knows what's about to happen, and falls back onto his ass in the grass.

Steve sinks to his knees, and then crawls forward, leaning in, and he's gonna kiss him. He's gonna do it. Eddie reaches up, sliding his hand into Steve's hair, inviting him to please do.

And then he's kissing Steve Harrington, lips, tongues as Steve presses him back into the grass, covering Eddie's body with his own. Eddie lets his thighs fall open, letting Steve slot in between his legs, and goddamn.

He didn't.

He hoped.

But he didn't actually expect this. 

Eddie can't believe it is happening. Him and Steve Harrington. Though, it seems kind of fitting that The Boss is currently growling out of the speakers that you can't start a fire without a spark.

And what a spark this is.

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! ⚾

Notes: If you aren't an Olympic junkie, baseball has always came and went. And in 1984 it was back, after a twenty year hiatus. So, the first time in Steve's lifetime. At first I was like...maybe? Pros still couldn't play in 1996, but then I really looked at that 1996 roster. They really were all about 21 years old, born between 1974-1976. The oldest, the catcher, was born in 1973. So, Steve was just too old. I was like, could he coach?? And even that seemed far-fetched, so I went this way, which I think turned out far more realistic, anyway.

Lots of Springsteen references abound in this one, lol. Born in the U.S.A. came out June 4th, 1984. It had the song of the same name, Glory Days and Dancing in the Dark, on it.

[wlwsoccerfics]

The ACL Chaos Continues(KerstinCasparijXRuthBrownXJillRoordXCasparijReader)

A/N: this Is Part two of 'The ACL Chaos Roommates' so read the first Part before this one.

Warnings: mental health issues, ACL injury, angsty

Summary: your healing Journey continues and so does the chaos.

Jill was off the crutches. So were you. It has been two months since surgery. But you still needed a cane sometimes to get around. And your pain was still a 6 sometimes even a 7 out of 10. But you kept pushing yourself even though you knew this was probably only gonna make things worse. Your fiancee, your twin and Ruth sure saw you struggling and they became quite worried with how you were handling things.

You were standing on the back porch, trying to walk without the cane while trying to get your leg to stay straight and it just wasn't working how you wanted it to work so you became more and more frustrated. Kerstin saw you from inside and walked out.

"y/n! Stop! What are you doing?! You are clearly exhausted! And overworking yourself doesn't gonna make this better!" Your twin sister told you. Her tone was a mix of worry and anger.

You looked at her before you started yelling and crying. Hugging her.

"i hate this! I know i said i would be patient but Physio said he isn't sure i will get back to my old self! What If i can't Play anymore?!" You cried into her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around you. Holding you close.

"it will be okay! Whatever happens you are smart, you will figure something out! And you are not alone, ever!" Your twin told you. You didn't see her face but you could hear in her voice that she was close to crying.

Unknown to both you and Kerstin, Jill & Ruth were watching you from the inside. Eyes filled with concern.

"this looks serious." Jill whispered out.

"i agree. whatever it is, we all have eachother! And we will support y/n! I just hope that Kerstin managed to get through to her. Because honestly your fiancee is not doing herself any favors like that! She is overworking herself constantly!" Ruth said.

"i noticed that as well, whenever i try to talk to her about it she keeps telling me how fine she is and that i imagine things!" Jill admitted.

Back to you and Kerstin...

"Luister alsjeblieft naar wat de dokter zei." (please listen to what the doctor said) Your sister spoke up.

"Ik probeer het. Maar dit is mijn leven." ( i am trying. but this is my life. ) You explained why it wasn't so easy to let things go and give them time. You were afraid your career might be over.

"Jezelf nog meer pijn doen, maakt het niet beter!" ( hurting yourself even more won't make things better! ) Kerstin answered.

You two talked for a little bit longer before walking inside. Both Jill & Ruth staring at you.

"Wat is er, lieverd?" ( what's wrong, darling? ) Jill asked.

"zag je mij een inzinking hebben?" ( you saw me having a breakdown? ) You asked your wife.

"we both did!" She told you and was referring to Ruth as well. You sighed softly taking a step towards hery grabbing her hand gently.

"let's sit down! I can't stand for that long without a cane." You admitted.

"which is Part of the Problem. Right?" Ruth asked. You nodded your head. All of you sat down on the Couch.

"Physio says he isn't sure i will be able to play like i used to before this injury. I am afraid my career might be over." You admitted, tears streaming down your face again. Ruth and Jill both felt like someone was punching the Air out of their lungs. They didn't expect this information to leave your mouth.

"liefje, it's still early on. Give it time! Even if you can't Play as strong as you do now, it doesn't mean you fully have to stop playing. Let's Focus on the healing process now. And worry later. I know things aren't going great for you but if they don't tell you that you can't Play anymore let's not go to career ending right now. Might take you longer to get back on the pitch, but you will get there!" Jill told you. Wrapping her arms around you. you cuddled into her side. It was clear to you, Ruth and Kerstin that the speech was not only for you but really to make sense of this for herself and well and build everyone back up.

"Jill is right, be patient with yourself! Be kind to yourself! You will get back onto the pitch. Even if you can just give 50% of how you played before this injury you still are world class! You are one of the best Players in the world, y/n! So don't give up on yourself! Cause the three of us sure won't ever give up on you!" Kerstin replied.

"we are here to support your healing Journey!" Ruth let you know. Offering you a kind smile. You thanked the three of them. Trying to stay focused on the good things. You knew they were right. You had to be more kind to yourself. And see what was about to come your way. Give yourself time. The Pitch will be there when you are ready.

You look at your fiancee ,a few minutes later you spoke up.

"i am thankful your journey is going better then mine Babe. I genuinely mean that. i hope you are right with what you say about my Journey but If you aren't...i know we talked about kids in the future...and i would be willing to carry one for us." You stated.

"that's sweet Babe! But let's wait okay? Focus on healing. You will get there!" Jill said.

Turned out that you indeed just needed more time but five months later you managed to do some running without pain, working on other skills as well. It was 7 months after you got hurt now. You weren't on the end of your healing journey but you were doing so great now and everyone was proud of you. Jill was doing even better , you were proud of her.

The two of you moved back into your place 3 months ago. Planning your Wedding, which was gonna be in exactly a year from now on. You had pushed it back cause of your Injury.

Even though your journey was difficult you appreciated everyone that was there for you and you liked being there for their journeys whatever those might be. You wanted to help people and not just receive help.

[bambi-kinos]

Would you like to answer a few questions about you opinions about Paul. Peoples read him very different and of course as a human he too has good and bad sides. What are the things that stands out to you the most: pros and cons besides being icon and music genius. Not from beatle historians or anyone else's opinions just your personal views? In the Beatles, pre and post Beatles. How do you view him today vs from decades ago? (Don't know how long you've been a fan) do you think he's mostly happy or sad in private. I'm asking you this because to me you seem like the one on line blogger that seem to "get him". Also would you say that you are attracted to him? Have you seen him live? What are you favourite songs by him both as a Beatle and beyond. I'm a super-Paul-stan fan and proud of it and nothing you say can change my own opinions of Paul but because nobody is perfect. Ok I'll let you go now.

Had to think about this one for a couple of weeks.

My opinion about Paul is that most of positive and negative feelings towards him are earned. He deserves the reverence but sometimes people take it too far like when his stepsister Ruth called him a god with feet of clay or whatever lmao. That kind of behavior is incredibly cringe and its very embarrassing that people can talk that way about Paul. But I think that he's busted his ass for over 60 years so truthfully he's earned the accolades and praise that he gets. There are some people that get really pissy and mad that he's revered so much and the only thing that we can say to them is "get a fucking life." Paul McCartney has been working his shapely ass off for decades to get where he is and is still slamming out music at in his fucking 80s. When you accomplish half as much as he has than you can think about whining that he's too revered and too worshipped.

On the other hand Paul has done a good job of earning all the negative emotions directed at him. He's egotistical and isn't graceful about wearing that praise. He tries to pretend he doesn't care but it's so transparent and see through that it's actively irritating, I think it's this more than anything that can get people to bitch. There is a phony veneer to Paul where he's clearly doing a bit of some sort and it's aggravating because it's not entirely clear what the bit actually is. Like all the posts making fun of him for pretending to be """normal""" are not coming out of no where, it's real aggravation that he's worked his whole life to get where he is and he tries to go "heehee I don't actually want it I'm just a guy like you <3~" like cmon dude really. For fuck's sake.

When it comes to Paul himself, my take on him, idk. I identify with Paul heavily. I like to think I'm more aggressive than he is but who actually fucking knows. I went through a life changing trauma at a similar age. (I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was eleven years old which is the insulin dependent diabetes that you hear about a lot on social media. BTW if anyone else has diabetes type 1 or 2 I'm available to talk, my dad and my partner are both type 2 and I know a lot about both.) I can identify with how your life is heavily bifurcated between Before and After. I also identify with how Paul really struggles to come to grips with his family life, while it's clear Jim and Mary did love him a lot they also simply were not stellar parents and a lot of their success with Paul and Mike lies in the fact that they gave their sons a steady home life without chaotic disruptions more than that they navigated the trials of parenthood well. I identify with that as well because diabetes makes my life very chaotic, and my parents did work to smooth those things over; but on the other hand my folks also had nasty and ugly moments with me just like Jim did with Paul. So I know what its like to love your parent immensely and be loved by them and still have a deeply resentful and distrustful relationship with them. And I never had a John Lennon in the mix to disrupt things.

I think it left me and Paul in similar places though our birth order is reversed with him being the oldest and me being the youngest. I realized a long time ago that I was completely on my own in terms of my diabetes and the rest of my life (my mother made some treatment decisions about my diabetes that nearly killed me a few times before I took control of it completely.) A parent can love you immensely, try to do everything right, and still damage you profoundly. With Paul having to endure physical blows and attempted emotional manipulation from his father, I think he too realized that he was totally on his own and that Jim could not give Paul what he needed. That is why Paul has such a strong self preservation instinct and why he comes off as two faced and why MLH remarked that he did not want to be in a dark alley with Paul if Paul did not like him. I've had to do some nasty things for self preservation and I think Paul has had to do it too. Some of them we know about but the majority we never will.

I think that it's hard to be the first born or the last born kid. You get so much of your parents attention but they screw you up in so many ways. I know middle children tend to feel ignored but I'm going to tell you right now, you're being shielded from a lot because you're not getting the Eye of Morder trained on you. Maybe we should all be thankful for what we have, idk. I have a lot more in common with my oldest sister than any of my middle siblings.

Paul is ruthlessly out for himself. I think John dying actually changed that a bit, it made him somewhat less vindictive and he was more open to letting people in but he's never not going to protect himself first. Or else he wouldn't have married Nancy in the first place, Nancy's first cousin was Barbara Walters and through Nancy Paul has a direct line to the news media which means he has yet one more string of influence so that he can control his public image. Nancy and Paul like each other a lot and their relationship is sincere, but Paul also benefits greatly by it. Do you see how this goes with him lol, he can invest in sincere relationships (and to be clear he does love Nancy) while still benefitting from it materially and immaterially. Note that a lot of the negative stuff about Paul started fading out of the press after he married Nancy.

Other fans often think I'm being negative and hateful about Paul when I point out that he is a manipulator and that he has a ruthless streak in him but that can't be farther from the truth. I sincerely admire Paul's ability to arrange his life in such a way that he is safe from most tangible threats and that he has such a way of moving chess pieces so that his hand isn't visible. I find that a great deal more admirable and amazing than John's bluntforce "let me squawk like a chicken to a reporter and they'll shit on Paul for me because I took a photo with them" thing. John was very blunt and clumsy with his sledgehammer and that did get results but I think that Paul is a great deal more artistic and beautiful with his media manipulation. The fact that he can carefully line up his pieces, get the results he wants, and then his influence is never seen (unless you extrapolate your way backwards from the results) is, to me, a great deal more elegant and sophisticated than the Lennono approach to bloviating during interviews.

Paul learned this during the initial Beatlemania rush when he had scads of heterosexual men all on their hands and knees begging him to let them fuck him. He does things exclusively through dangling something people want in front of them and then lets them take a course of action that suits him. And despite the fact that he is the architect of these movements you can never trace anything back to him because he does everything through influence and suggestion, not by out and out coercion or bribery. It's actually kind of incredible. Last week my friend remarked "I think Paul could pull off a bank heist and never get caught" and she's right.

That's what I admire about Paul. That is what I think is beautiful about him. Not necessarily the music or the lyrics or the insane life. Just the fact that he is a very patient and careful human being that doesn't lose his cool easily. I want to know more about him because I want that, you know? Being able to control facets of my life with that much care and harmony.

But that wasn't always the case. Paul was very clumsy during the 1970s because he let his feelings rule him when he should have crushed John like a bug. It wasn't until after John died that Paul started building the fortress, that was when he finally realized "oh shit, I need to build a persona for PR. I can't just be me anymore." Wings Paul is in some ways the most honest Paul, he vomits his feelings everywhere and we get a lot of insights into his mind and home life. That was before he had formed his own network of influence and political chicanry. 1980s Paul is when he's investing in that network finally and then 1990s Paul is when he started putting it into motion culminating in the divorce with Heather Mills. All in all I find it fascinating that Paul was not able to pull these disparate parts of himself together until he was in his 40s and Linda died. What is to be done with such a man?

I think that Paul has always had disparate parts of himself that he hasn't been able to reconcile. This is of course not unusual, it is the work of our lifetimes that we must see, accept, and internalize our contradictory natures. It's Paul's bad luck that he has to do this all in the public eye. No one envies him that. It's hell on earth and my heart breaks for him sometimes.

When it comes to Paul's moods in private, I think he is more or less "happy." Paul himself has said that he doesn't overthink his actions, he just decides what he wants to do and does it and whether it pans out or not is a different matter. I think that he's the kind of person that doesn't ruminate and he doesn't overthink what he's doing. And if he does do that then he goes to his guitar and does the "tell it all my problems" thing which is actually music therapy. It clearly helps him a lot and it clears his head so that he can keep his problems in perspective. I do that with journaling and my common place book, and I should do it more. It clearly helps Paul which is a good habit to have. All in all during his day to day life, Paul is happy and accomplished and has a big family with lots of grandchildren. Clearly loves Beatrice to bits and would do anything for her. The fact that we never hear anything bad about Beatrice is proof that she inherited all the right things from Paul lmao, she knows better than to get in trouble. Interestingly I think Beatrice is Paul's mini-me and considering Heather Mills is the same kind of personality as John Lennon, it makes me think that John and Paul having children together would actually have worked out very well for them.

On the other hand we know that Paul carries his share of anger and bitterness and old grudges. "No one knows the real me, do they." We're lucky that we live in a time where we can be relatively open about our personalities as well as our wants and needs. Paul did not grow up with such privileges and is only just recently starting to feel his way to the place we have inhabited our entire lives. He's suffered greatly for it. He's a naturally reticent person but I think John Lennon is the only person in the world Paul could fully express himself with; even Linda did not get full access to Paul considering comments made by others about Paul's controlling nature which belies anxiety. Why was Paul anxious around Linda, his soul mate? Because there were still parts of himself he didn't want her to know. And so on.

I think that in some ways Paul's lack of rumination and cheeriness is a choice that he's made for himself. He's been "tired" of negativity and hurtfulness for pretty much his entire life, he's always wanted to bring light into the world. John once said that Yoko painting "yes" on the ceiling of her exhibit was what he liked about her because it was positive, unlike the self absorbed 'woe is me' bullshit exhibits other avante garde people put up. I think John was attracted to Paul for similar reasons. Paul tries to take the sad song and make it better. Paul transformed John's life and he saved John from a much harder and painful path like the common belief that John would have landed himself in prison if he hadn't met Paul. I don't think it would have happened precisely that way but it was certainly a distinct possibility that John was aware of and he knew that Paul saved him from it.

Paul does it for himself as much as anyone else. I think he's actively trying to avoid the traps that many of us fall into. Rumination, bitterness, regrets. These are things that poison a person's life and even without therapeutic language Paul realized that he didn't want his life to be consumed by it. That doesn't mean he doesn't have his well of pain to tap into but he wants to live and be happy. He said once that John wouldn't want him to be hurt and depressed and he was right. I think if we all approached our lives with that kind of attitude, "I deserve to be happy and I'm going to do what it takes to get there," we would all be much better off. Paul is a role model in more ways than one.

Paul is a sport, a one off. There is no one else like him and when he dies there will never be anyone like him ever again. Treasure him now while he is here.

I have never seen him perform. When he has his next US tour then I'll go, I don't care what it costs.

Am I attracted to him: yes and yes. I find it more like an aspirational attractiveness but I think he's intensely beautiful and he became more beautiful as he aged (though there is something very special and breedable about 22 year old Paul McCartney. It's deeply depressing that he never got pregnant.) That's different from being handsome, all of the Beatles were handsome but Paul is intensely beautiful. It's the kind of thing that gets memorialized in Sumarian poems. If we were told he was descended from swan maidens or something like that, it would not be a shock. There's a story in that somewhere lol, imagine Paul bathing in a lake and John steals his feathered coat so that Paul will marry him or something like that. IDK. Paul is very intense.

Beauty is sovereign. Beauty triumphs over all things. Paul is one of those rare people that handles (almost) all of his affairs adroitly. Every little thing he does is magic.

I'm a big fan of all of Paul's work, I genuinely enjoy London Town for instance and I don't get why some circles make fun of it. Synth owns what is the problem here. Some of my favorite Paul songs:

With a Little Luck

Probably my favorite "John, I love you, I'm sorry, please come home" song. It's just very Paul, the very carefully arranged harmony, the minor key in an upbeat tempo, with the almost mismatched lyrics before Paul brings it back to a major key resolution. It makes me want to find my partner and kiss them on their lower lip. (My partner has a very pouty lower lip, easily one of their best features.)

Let 'em In

I have an entire animated music video in my head about this song. I've actually been looking up how to teach myself art because I want to pursue it. First learning to draw, then learning to animate and all because I want to animate this sequence I have in my head. Oh Paul. I adore you.

Rock Show

This one actually made me stand up and dance around my house which never happens anymore. I just love the energy and Paul's silly voices. And Paul's platonic fascination with axe wielders rears its head again! I wonder if Paul ever fantasized about killing people with an axe.

Another Day

This is the anthem of my life lmao. At least I have a romantic partner but we're long distance until I can emigrate to the United Kingdom so again I identify very heavily with this Paul piece. Ahhh…

When it comes to Paul's Beatle work, I don't really want to reference anything there because Beatles music was such a community effort, even Paul's songs aren't fully his once the other three got their hands on it. That's not a bad thing but it does mean the Beatles were an engine unto themselves. Paul never had full control of his songs. My choices are not particularly enlightened but they are true which is all I can provide.

This was a really great ask to get, thank you for sending it in. Very flattered if I'm someone who "gets" Paul. I think it's more like he makes a lot of sense to me and it's very rare that he does something that does not make sense to me. I'm probably projecting a lot but we all do that so who cares?

[a-man-in-the-crowd]

when your beard husband ends up gay too (nevermore 50s au)

song: queer things by ruth wallis

[YAPPING BELOW]

FIFTIES AU ANYONE??? i was thinking about willbee and then queer things by ruth wallis stsrted playing and everything else just kinda evolved from there. the current concept is berenice needed a beard and ended up going for will because he kinda just does whatever he's asked and he seemed weirdly desperate... turns out, he ALSO needed a beard and berenice only realizes this on their wedding night. shenanigans ensue. i like to imagine they both just stood awkwardly in front of their wedding bed until they came to the realization they BOTH don't want to do that and will just goes to sleep on the couch.

in this au lenore is living her best life as a bigender icon (presents as a man to the public, presents as a bit of both to her friends and annabel and yes you can read that as plural if you want) + married to annabel. OR annabel is lavender married to prospero and lenore is lavender married to duke but honestly i just want lennabel to be happily married for once 💔

pluto and eulalie are married, i'd say eulalie's dad found pluto and was like "hey so you like weird creepy little things right? is this a good enough husband for you?" and surprisingly they actually hit it off.

montresor and ada are disastrously married i haven't gotten into the specifics of that but... well, you can guess the gist of that.

don't ask me what morella duke and prospero are up to just yet. especially not morella i haven't a clue (i could base it off the story she's based on?). prospero is a doctor and if he isn't married to annabel he's definitely pulling the 'too busy to marry' card. duke's a famous magician, maybe he's got a flirty persona going on (for entertainment purposes and also so he can play off love life questions with a 'well, it's hard to settle down when you're a guy like me *wink*' sorta thing if that makes sense.)

bereulapluke, obviously. although it's probably a bit more complicated because eulalie just doesn't think she needs to explain the sitch to berenice (so basically berenice thinks she's eulalie's mistress LMAO), pluto and duke i'm not entirely sure about but i know that they're not together (yet), and plulalie's going okay but pluto is kinda having trouble with the idea that yeah he can like men too and his wife is okay with that.

maybe morellada idk

[thejagermeister]

this might be a controversial opinion so i will preface by saying that max is one of my favorite characters in hatchetfield and i love him very much. however

i think some folks take parts of his canon characterization (namely, his emotional intelligence and the fact that he acts kinda sweet after the prank reveal) and their neurodivergent/queer/etc headcanons (which are perfectly valid! i am an "autistic trans girl max" guy through and through) and arrive to the conclusion that max wasn't actually that bad of a bully.

as in, he didn't bully the nerds for showing queer/nd traits, he bullied them for other reasons. but like. what other reasons would he have.

like sure, he flick-it tickets richie for being in his hallway, but that's because richie "stinks the place up," and max doesn't want that in his space. richie's self-proclaimed overactive sweat glands are either a health issue or a nd hygiene issue or a combination of both.

he targets pete because of the rumor that he has a small dick. some folks use this as evidence for trans pete (i wholeheartedly agree) but even if you don't consider it from that angle, it's still body-shaming.

ghost!max makes fun of ruth for daring to engage with her dream hobby in privacy. he makes pun after pun about theatre to rub it in. the whole point of bullying is to isolate people who are different, whether they're nd, queer, poor, people of color, disabled, etc...

the takeaway from the "difference between intent and impact" scene is that he uses his emotional intelligence and "inclusive" vocabulary to manipulate people, not that he actually learns anything about inclusion. he'd know what transgender means and would probably say he isn't transphobic, use all the "right" language, but then turn around and make fun of pete for his body.

the "bully uses victim's preferred pronoun!" memes are funny and i'm not trying to police anyone's fandom experience by saying you can't talk about max like that. softening his harsher traits in fanfic where the focus isn't on a max redemption isn't like, a crime. do whatever you want. but sometimes i get the feeling people straight-up forget the way he acts towards the nerds in canon.

to me, the appeal of a max redemption arc is that he goes from a terrible, cruel, arguably traumatized person, to someone who's willing to learn from his mistakes and make amends. not that he was already kind of an okay guy to begin with.

[ghostface-knight]

i'd like to present my concept of nightmare time episodes where every (or almost every) person is played by the same person, inspired by jaime lyn beatty in daddy. here are some ideas:

peter spankoffski is done being at the bottom of the hatchetfield high food chain, and so he seeks out help to become cooler. he comes across ethan green, who, having just been left by his girlfriend lex, decides, "what the hell, i'll mentor this kid on being cool". when ted spankoffski learns that his little brother is hanging out with "that no-good ethan green", he confronts pete about it, perhaps a little too harshly. his intentions are good, but when has anything ever gone the way he meant? ted, like everybody in town, knows about ethan's reputation, and he thinks he'll be a bad influence on pete. he knows that, if anyone can, pete can make it out of hatchetfield, and he doesn't want ethan screwing that up. so he confronts him, and one thing leads to another, and eventually pete storms out in anger. ted knows if he goes after pete immediately, he'll only make things worse, so he decides he'll let him have his moment of teenage rebellion and then reconcile with him after. a few hours later, ted spankoffski, now drinking his problems away, is approached by a mysterious man who has somehow gotten into ted's apartment. wilbur cross, as he introduces himself, half-convinces and half-mind controls ted into believing that ethan is responsible for this, and the only way to protect pete is to kill ethan. he storms into ethan's tiny basement apartment, wielding his now shattered bottle of booze, and prepared to rip him limb from limb with his new super-powered companion. ethan can hold his own, though, and the brawl is a tough match. eventually, though, ethan manages to get the remaining shard of the bottle and shove it straight through ted's chest. as this happens, pete comes out of ethan's bathroom, revealing that he'd gone to ethan for comfort after his fight with ted. ted bleeds out on ethan's floor as pete holds him.

ruth fleming has graduated high school, and she's lucky enough to find a super chill job as a farmhand on the farm of emma perkins. one day, as they do their usual work (which isn't much, to be honest), they are approached by linda monroe, who is all but seething. she's goes on about how drugs are evil and she will not raise her children in a town where such depravity is taking place. they threaten her off the property, and they think that'll be over and done with. it's not like they've never had to deal with moralistic creeps like her before, and they've always come out the other side. linda comes back the next day with a petition signed by just about every member of the hatchetfield boating society. yeah whatever, perky's buds is not going to be dismantled by some stupid rich people who think they have more power than they do. in the midst of this, they've recently recieved a new client: 17 year old hannah foster. a quiet kid from hatchetfield high, who seems to have joined the smoke club as a way to make some friends. emma and ruth don't think much of it -- neither of them have any qualms about selling to teenagers, and business is business. however, hannah keeps coming back for more and more, and ruth starts to wonder if there's something else going on. back in the linda plot, linda has taken to bringing people out to the farm to protest. each day she (or, more accurately, the people she's hired) come with more and more people holding cardboard signs and chanting. it's really starting to get on emma's nerves. one day, while hannah is picking up her purchase, linda, surrounded by a mob of angry parents and hatchetfield adults, returns. suddenly, linda no longer seems like a nuisance, but a legitimate threat. her followers carry weapons and the menacing smile on her face tells emma and ruth that she isn't messing around. as the mob breaks through the door of the farm house, emma and ruth urge hannah to look for shelter. hannah refuses though, and emma swears her eyes begin to gleam almost inhumanly. the mob makes it to them, and are suddenly thrown back by a wave of psychic energy so powerful it shatters the walls of the house. hannah's new powers (on account of the weed) leave emma, ruth, and herself standing unharmed in the middle of a surrounding pile of groaning, injured people.

i have a few other concepts, but this is getting super long so i better leave it here for now lmao

[copinghex]

Fool's gold | T.S

Summary: Tommy's distant behavior hasn't changed since Eleanor found out he doesn't want her to leave. Tired of his lack of reciprocation, her attitude pushes him out of his shell.

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Chapter 4 - Result of circumstance.

Tommy acknowledged all the half-truths in Ruth's harsh tone. He was indeed a thief, far from a rich background. She was right when she said Eleanor could get better.

Still, he was royalty from his father's side, his grandad was a king amongst the travelers and he didn't intend to be a thief forever.

Ruth was deadly mistaken assuming he'd ill-treat or forsake her daughter. He was no saint, but that was a line he'd never cross. Never.

Sitting with Eleanor in Charlie's yard, they were foolish to assume Ruth would allow him in Matthew's birthday party. After all, they were good people, catholic and decent. Tommy could only be the opposite.

His body was rigid on the seat, Tommy learned to impose respect a long time ago, he carried a screwdriver and a blade, deadly to anyone brave enough to challenge the boy who laid curses. His mother was dead, his father had left and his temper was harsh, no one dared to cross someone with so few to lose.

Except, of course, an entitled mother.

His shoulders relaxed when Eleanor's hesitant hand crept into his, intertwining their fingers together. She kept looking down, ashamed, “I'm sorry, Tom,”

“Not your fault,”

“No, seriously, I'm sorry,”

Tommy sighed, one of the greatest injustices was a child apologizing on the parent's behalf. He did it himself a couple of times before, back when his father was around.

“I love you,” the words dropped from her lips unexpectedly. The fact had never been voiced, only assumed.

He nodded, watching the nervousness in her blushy face, “I love you too,”

“What the hell are you thinking about, brother?” Arthur's gruffy voice took Tommy off his daydream.

“...the last race was a loss,” he masked any sentimentalism, “not even a half fucking page in the books,”

“People have no reason to bet anymore,” John said, “why would they? It's smarter to buy a can of beans than waste some shillings on our horse,”

“Monaghan boy isn't slow,” Tommy argued.

“No, it ain't,” Arthur agreed, “but those bastards don't know it yet.”

Tommy puffed, rubbing his eyes in annoyance, being the responsible for attracting new gamblers, he had a solution for the problem. He doubted Arthur would sympathize with it.

But then again, the day had just started. Whatever Arthur would say was a problem to his evening self.

—

“You're not coming?” Polly asked.

With her nose buried in the dishes, Eleanor barely remembered the family meeting Arthur demanded, she had a bitter taste on her tongue, nothing good would come out of it and she wasn't family per se. She had no reason to attend.

“I have a pie in the oven,”

Polly sized her up with pity, Eleanor let Tommy make a fool out of her. Usually, she saw the best in her nephews and watched them struggling inside their heads since their return from France. This, however, was crossing the line, keeping a girl prisoner of the house, a heartbroken maid.

“It was me who showed him your mother's letter,” Polly confessed, watching Eleanor momentarily freeze, “He wouldn't let you go without a fight,”

No answer.

“Come to the meeting,” Polly offered her hand, “you've owned the family title being here while they were away,”

Giving in, Eleanor kept her eyes down until Polly guided her to a seat with a patronizing squeeze to the arm.

Arthur, who had a clear view of Tommy’s face, noticed his glances at his fiancée. He stared between her and his brother. The tension was palpable and he might as well break it, “Right, I've called this meeting because...”

Fidgeting with her nails, Eleanor wasn't listening, she breathed in Ada's perfume, new and way too sweet, together with the fact she only wore high heels and her skin was glowing, the answer was obvious, Ada Shelby was in love.

She lifted her eyes, John always had a bad posture, if her mother reacted badly to Tommy, she should've met John, the ideia put a half smile on her face, perhaps when she was younger a man like him would've been her first choice, if she was a tiny flame, he was a full gasoline can.

Together, they'd be explosive, unbeatable, her heart would turmoil every time their eyes met. However, in that meeting, the second they glanced at each other, John quickly looked away.

There was no path for John and Eleanor to walk on. Besides, she didn't think relationships were meant to be eventful as she was sure it'd be with him. She was a tiny flame and her man must be coal, burning together, giving each other purpose and never burning out. Something she was sure she'd have with-

“Don't you have anything to add to this meeting, Thomas?” Polly asked.

“No, nothing that's women's business,”

“This whole bloody enterprise was women's business while you boys were away at war, what changed?”

“We came back.”

Scoffing, Polly took a drag of her cigarette, the family got silent, leaning towards uncomfortable. Arthur's eyes were fixed on the kitchen's door. “What smell is that?” he asked.

With her mind drifting off, Eleanor took few seconds to notice Polly's stare.

“My pie!”

—

Only the center of the pie was saved, the edges were burned. Finn, Katie, Pearl and George ate most of it even if the taste wasn't spectacular.

The night fell on and the house got silent again, in times like this, Eleanor liked to sit near the living room's fireplace, the moment was perfect for her to crochet something new, but she was too tired to put her mind into it, her fingers moved from muscle memory, giving a square shape to the pinkish wool.

Tommy stared at her from the doorway, she didn't hear him coming downstairs. Carrying his pillow in hand, his opium pipe was inside the case, every night he slept on the sofa to not bother her with his nightmares. Of course, he usually just left the bedroom, never telling her the reason.

“Oi,” he called, voice drained up by the rough day, “staying up ‘till this hour?”

“You are up,” she was quick to accuse, cleared her throat and recomposed, “yeah, I'm not sleepy yet,”

Tommy sighed, throwing his pillow on the opposite sofa and laying on his back. His eyes fixed on the crack between the curtains, chest moving in the pace of his breath, he looked as handsome as a painting.

Handsome and not a fool, he felt Eleanor's glances, trying to be discreet but too heavy, packed with the frustration she couldn't hide. “There's still some pie in the icebox,” she cut the silence.

“Hm-hmm,” he quietly dismissed. Tommy closed his eyes, counting the seconds she kept staring, probably brooding over how much she hated him.

He gulped, the possibility crossed his mind every single day, what exactly would be the last straw for her, he thought the occasional cheating wasn't the thing, it'd be something smaller, something he wouldn't notice, like the monotony in his voice or a harsh glance she won't forgive. “So this is how you sleep every night?” Eleanor asked.

“Yeah,”

“Sharing a bed with me is so bad you prefer the sofa?”

“No,” he made up an excuse, “there's no space for both of us in the mattress, I left it to you,”

“It didn't use to bother you,”

Tommy turned his palm up in an empty gesture, as if it did now. She put her crochet away, eyes lowering in disappointment. The carpet she cleaned yesterday was dirty with cigarette ashes. “Hm, I've heard you do witchcraft now,” she commented.

“Where did you hear that?”

“When I went to buy beef for the pie, people talk,”

“That they do,”

“So is it true?”

“The chinese did witchcraft, I only took the horse,”

“I thought we didn't deal with the chinese,”

“So you thought wrong,”

“Yeah, I think I've been assuming many things wrong lately,”

The alarms in Tommy's head lit up. He should say something, something that would make her stay, make her understand his behavior was result of circumstances, not an attack to her. He needed her. He needed the last connection he had to the man he was before France.

“Tommy,” she continued before he said anything, “I think I should go home,”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's like you said, there's no space for both of us in this house,”

“I didn't say that,” Tommy sat up.

“I only came here to help Polly and Ada while you were away, now it's over, besides my mum must need my help-”

“We're engaged,”

“Yeah, you don't have to remind me," she whispered to herself, "it's not me who seems to have forgotten,”

“You'll stay, that's final,”

“You don't get to decide, we're not married,”

“Not yet,”

As Eleanor left the room in challenging steps, he imagined her going upstairs and packing her bags. She'd be safer if she did. He'd never have to tell her about his nightmares, the opium, the guns from BSA, or the risk she took by being close to him. She'd be free, but he'd be miserable.

Rushing through the house, Tommy found her changing into sleepwear. He held her shoulders, surprising her by acting so fussy. “Ellie, listen to me, just fucking listen to me,”

“Tommy, it's alright-” she tried to remove his hands off her and got her wrists grabbed.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed out, “alright? There's things that I can't explain to you, I can't even- I can't explain to myself,”

“...is it the nightmares?”

Confused, he looked into her eyes, there was no sign of judgment, she was open to conversation. “How do you-”

“I went downstairs for a glass of water, you were acting strange, sweating and spasming,” she explained, “I thought about waking you up but I wasn't sure, so I went back to bed,”

“Yes,” Tommy agreed, trying to end the conversation, “yes, it's the nightmares,”

“Is that all?” she insisted, “Tommy, is that all?”

“And business, there are business I don't want you in, that inspector didn't come to play games,”

“I thought the inspector came for the communists,”

“Maybe, maybe not, doesn't fucking matter, I rather him not acknowledge you,”

“And to that you'll keep me away from you forever? Forget it, Tommy,” pushing him away, she sat on the edge of bed, “I'll pack my bags tomorrow after breakfast, then you'll be free to do as you like,”

Kneeling in front of her, Tommy surrendered. If so she wished he'd expose all his wounds. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know, Tom,” she lied, a single assurance from the man she loved would make her stay forever, because as rational she tried to be, her heart didn't belong with anyone else.

“Things will change, Ellie,” he took her hands, “believe me,”

“I do,”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling her eyes watering.

“Good, you're staying then,”

“I didn't say that, I don't want to stay because you'll move things around and make more money,” she sobbed, “I want to stay because you love me,”

“And I do,”

Eleanor gulped, searching for the truth in his dilated eyes. He came back different, quieter, untrustworthy. If the war had changed his character, he'd lie without issue, something his younger self would never do.

“Do you?” she hesitated, “Can you say it?”

“I love you, Eleanor,” Tommy brushed her cheek, delicate as a wilted flower, “eh? My Ellie?”

“Jesus,” she snorted, “your Ellie? There's a long time I don't hear that,”

“Mine all right,” he confirmed, “I can prove it,”

Tommy pushed her down the mattress, relieved when her legs wrapped around his waist, their kiss was gentle, slow, making obvious how much she missed him. Eleanor kept pulling him closer, arms wrapped around his neck and hands caressing the sides of his head.

The bedroom's door was only half-closed, not giving them the privacy they desired, unable to stop, anyone crossing the hallway would hear their moaning. If no one did, the ring Tommy put back on Eleanor's finger wouldn't go unnoticed the next morning.

[sleepyfireball]

I loved Season 3 of Bridgerton so much

I loved Colin and Penelope's romance, how it was evident she was still in love with him and yet was trying to be practical. Not to mention the fact that he was down bad after one (1) kiss, like she got him good with that one! Also, love the fact that Colin was trying to get Penelope to not be herself and yet it was by being herself that she attracted Debling (decent guy through and through, low key thinking him and Cressida might be a good match) and Colin's jealousy was phenomenal, just the yearning, amazing. And of course, the carriage scene, damn did it deliver or what.

I loved seeing Francesca in a more prominent role and I'm so pleased with Hannah's portrayal. I was a little worried that it wouldn't feel like Francesca but she just nailed it. Francesca and John were so cute together, just sitting there silently confusing the hell out of the Bridgertons.

I enjoyed Violet immensely this season. I'm so glad that the writers are showing how she has learned from previous seasons, especially with Eloise and her role in society. I think Violet isn't entirely sure how best to help Francesca because she is quite different from Violet herself and from her own sisters, but it was evident from the scene of Francesca playing the sheet music that John got her that Violet recognises how happy he makes Francesca. Violet also clued on about Colin's predicament very quickly, thank goodness otherwise we would have needed another 5 years for Colin to work up the courage to tell Penelope his feelings. Ruth Gemmell really shone in her scenes where she was advising any of her children, but particularly with Colin, amazing, no notes.

I adored the scenes between Marcus Anderson and Violet. They had a really palpable chemistry, but they aren't going to fast with it, which I appreciate, and I'm really looking forward to seeing how their story continues to develop into Part 2. Ruth Gemmell really made it feel realistic with the small hope of more while still primarily focusing on her children and not getting carried away too quickly.

Queen Charlotte was phenomenal this season alongside Lady Danbury. They've really played into the friendship that was established in QC: ABS which was a wonderful call because these two actors are amazing together. I only wished we had gotten more Lady Danbury and Penelope scenes, to establish that relationship, but perhaps it will come in Part 2.

Marcus Anderson is an enigma, especially with whatever happened between him and Lady Danbury, I really hope he is as good a guy as he comes across as, because him and Violet have really got something cute going on. Also, Lady Danbury can either keep her mouth shut about it, or be confronted by Violet about loving her dad. Lady Danbury really doesn't have a leg to stand on here.

Eloise, this season, made perfect sense to me. She is finally starting to embrace a little of what the Season can offer and I wasn't expecting to like her and Cressida's friendship at all, but it does seem to have helped Eloise a little, especially after her falling out with Penelope. I'm pleased they didn't go for the outright villain route of her revealing Whistledown even accidentally. I think by the end of the season Eloise and Penelope will hopefully be friends again, or at least something nearing it, because while Cressida has helped Eloise, it is clear the Eloise's morals feel a bit torn about this due to Cressida's actions, particularly towards Penelope.

It was interesting to see more of Cressida this season and some of the pressure she finds herself under due to her family. I also appreciate that the writers are like we'll explain why she does it, but it doesn't excuse her actions.

I think the Featheringtons continue to be comedic relief, which is highly entertaining. The Featheringtons may not be my favourite family and their treatment of Penelope is reproachable but when it is just Portia, Prudence and Phillipa, the entertainment is amazing. Polly Walker, particularly, did amazingly in her scenes.

I'm not sure how to feel about Benedict and Lady Tilley Arnold, it felt a little unnecessary for Benedict to fall into bed with another person and Lady Tilley certainly seems to be questionable in some way, especially with her lawyer.

I liked seeing the Mondrich's, even if it felt like their story was a little unnecessary. Like we've had stories about trying to fit in society, I feel like the writers could have used the time to explore the other stories they had, but I didn't dislike their scenes.

[disregardcanon]

i'm thinking about a npmd the good place au and HOO BOY the ideas

it's a season 1 setup, with tinky as the architect of the neighborhood.

... good janets are petes and bad janets are teds. OUR pete is the neighborhood's pete and he's just kinda. trying to get by. shit's weird, guys. he doesn't remember how he got here and all his protocols have been messed up and the guy that took him isn't very nice. but this is- it's fine. it has to fine (there's no other choice.)

grace chastity is still adjusting to the idea that the christian god isn't real. she is not enjoying that very much, but she IS validated by the idea that her actions as a christian got her into The Place Where Good People Go. her actual exploits like mission trips and getting dances canceled and running abstinence camp are what are brought up during the Look How Cool We Are Welcome to the Neighborhood gala.

steph has been assigned to be her soulmate. she isn't supposed to be here. she's not like, an ABSURDLY bad person for anything, she just. was raised by solomon lauter. so she got the hell out of dodge after graduation and MAYBE she did some scams to get by after that. and like maybe she knows how to make a molotov cocktail and has used one once or twice. she certainly isn't The Best Person Who Did All These Things To Help the World and Support Great Liberal Causes that they keep saying she is. (she... wishes she was. though.) and these bible studies that her soulmate (soulmate???? THE FUCK) grace chastity keeps trying to force her to do so not to out her to the authorities as A Mistake Who Should Not Be Here. really aren't helping. (like come on. grace still insists that it's bad to be bisexual but look who her soulmate is? STEPH! so maybe steph knows more about how to adjust to this new world that little miss evangelist does)

ruth fleming is the first recorded case (according to tinky) of a Human Without a Soulmate in the history of humanity. just her fucking luck. she can't even get the robot guy to fuck her. ughgggghhh. you spend your life writing high quality erotic for lonely people and it gets you into heaven! but it doesn't even get you a partner. fuckin' rude

max jagerman doesn't think that he did anything wrong. he was the king of hatchetfield high, and then hatchetfield community college, and then he managed to fight his way to a backup quarterback spot on the jacksonville jaguars (this is the good place it will be the jaguars). and then! he's the REAL quarterback! if patrick ma-fucking-homes would just drop dead he'd be the most famous quarterback in the united states, thank you!

but when he dies... the guy doesn't tell him congrats on all the success. he doesn't even recognize that this is MAXWELL JAGERMAN! the quarterback who should be the most famous and well-respected in the united states. he makes some weird references to how... ambition... is... bad? and that those that hurt other people are... bad? says something about being a channel of peace or whatever? and that if this was a mix up then max is free to go to "drowsy town"? whatever the fuck that means.

so when he says "but you're not an ambitious bully that hurt others to get where you were! you're a super nice silent catholic monk who promoted peace on earth, right?" and max just.... stares.

"do you want to keep up your vow of silence? you can just nod." and max... does. because what the fuck do you say to that? shit shit shit shit shit shit FUCK

his "soulmate" is richie lipschitz, warrior for the sanctity of other people's art. why, if his youtube channel that makes fun of other people's bad art and takes and uses his fan base to come after much smaller creators isn't a net positive in the world, then what IS? some loser who doesn't understand anything complaining about the fascist implications of attack on titan on the internet? HA! (richie is disappointed that his soulmate isn't someone better, who likes him, but it was never going to live up to rei or asuka anyway. so he'll live)

he's the only one who knows max, and they went to high school together. max was the exact sort of bully that he was in canon. and it takes a LOT of sweet talk about how richie's the one who's actually supposed to be here to get him to stay quiet about the Max Actually Being an Awful Football Player and Not That Cool Silent Monk thing.

ruth and richie become friends through a series of sitcom tomfoolery. the sitcom tomfoolery is mainly Dragging The Poor Robot Into Playing Games and then Getting Mad That He's Better At The Games Than They Are. also ruth getting frustrated that the robot does not want to fuck her. (it's not because the robot does not want to fuck she's just not his type)

steph knows that she recognizes that silent monk guy from somewhere but can't quite put her finger on it, and she knows that something is VERY wrong here.

grace is developing a crush on her soulmate and does not know how to do that. (does being a soulmate count as marriage? is it actually bad to be gay when god doesn't even properly exist? did her actions matter since she wasn't serving a real god? what do you do with an EXISTENTIAL CRISIS IN THE AFTERLIFE?!?!?! ugh stomachache.)

max wants to figure out how to go back to being The Coolest Guy Ever, FUCK YEAH (he can't even shout go nighthawks or jacksonville jaguars, because he can't talk! it sucks!) but he knows that his soulmate Will Not Help. the guy, unreasonably, is still holding high school against him. and also everything else that max has legitimately messed up since then. (ha, it's almost like. consequences to your actions-) and then he meets grace chastity, biggest prude and most Sure of Herself in This Entire Place.

and he's in love <3 he prostrates himself in front of her and BEGS her to help him become "a good person" so that he can stay here. and grace is like i really don't have time for that i have to teach my own Secretly Shitty Soulmate the bible. and steph's like uh you can just. stop doing that. i'm really not interested-

and grace is like NO YOU ARE NOT LEAVING ME YOU BEAUTIFUL CHARMING SEDUCTRESS! and steph's like ugh. did i finally cure this girl's internalized homophobia in time for her to just. not leave me the fuck alone? fuck

so a max who, in theory, wants to learn grace chastity's version of Good Personhood so that he can earn his spot here and become Coolest Guy in the Good Place, King of Good Place High, and mainly just wants to spend time with her and get her to like him, grace who is having a bisexual panic attack and also fighting off existential dread, and steph, who knows that there is something very very wrong here and that grace can't help her with morality but also. has not figured out what's wrong or who can. is just stuck here while the other two flirt and grace occassionally remembers to make googly eyes HER way instead of max jagerman's. who IS the famous football player. what a fuckin' world

steph starts trying to research What the Fuck Is Wrong Here, and realizes that max's soulmate, richie, and tragically unattached ruth are befriending the Robot with Godlike Knowledge. and she's like oh wow i could probably utilize that in my Research.

more sitcom shenanigans occur. grace and max stop noticing that their third wheel isn't attending bible studies and they become more and more them just dancing towards sexual encounters.

steph uses her con artist raised by a politician (other type of con artist) skills to notice more and more strange fuckery, as things with the world start spiraling further and further out of control.

"you're pretty funny. you know, for a robot."

"not a robot."

"then what are you, exactly?"

"... a spankoffski?" and steph feels really bad for laughing.

she gets figured out as Not Who She Appears to Be and has to go through this big long contrived process to get to stay in the good place instead of getting shipped off, and it just seems... like so much. they bring up reps from the bad place and the stakes seem so contrived.

ruth and richie shenanigan together by Trying to Find The Swinger Soulmate Pairs while steph tries to figure out why, exactly, nothing feels real. and it feels less real when the walls start to enclose and she might be getting removed from the good place entirely.

the bad place representatives show up: another weird guy with another weird name and his own robot.

the bad place even has their own version of pete- a weird, horny bastard who won't answer anyone's questions and just complains the whole time. but why would that demon that they brought up be... willing? to let them cut a deal? why does their architect seem... weirdly chummy with them? they act almost the same, treating their robot right hands with the same amount of... callous contempt. perhaps the Ted "deserves" it, but-

... why isn't tinky kind to pete? pete might not be HUMAN, but he's still... sentient. he has thoughts and feelings and he's her favorite company in this godforsaken place- and tinky is supposed to be the creator of a place that's good and just.

what exactly are their numbers indicating? why is everything so confusing and bullshit and-

she runs out to the lake, just to clear her head. sit by the water and watch. she pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

"hey pete?" she asks. the well-dressed robot materializes beside her. sitting cross-legged.

"everyone has... points, right? that's how they figure out if you go to the good place or the bad place?"

"that's correct."

"who has the most points here?"

"you."

steph chuckles. "good one, spankoffski. i didn't know you could joke on purpose"

he tilts his head in confusion. "it wasn't a joke."

"i- what?"

"there are only 5 sets of numbers here. yours is the highest. it's been going up steadily ever since you got here."

steph just stares. "pete, there can't- there's hundreds of people here. why would only 5 of us have numbers?"

"only humans have numbers," he says simply. and oh god, oh fuck, oh shit-

"how did you get here?" she asks softly.

he looks thoughtful for a moment. "i... don't remember."

so steph gathers up the five other humans and they break their way into tinky's office, pete in tow.

and he's like "huh. what are you all doing here together?"

the other four humans are still confused, but steph is a forceful personality and convinced them this was the only way to fix things.

"go ahead and send me to the bad place," steph says, "i thought about it, and i don't want to keep making things so HARD on all of you. i was soooo selfish in life, but i don't want to keep that up."

tinky looks anxious. "oh steph, you aren't a burden."

she smiles. "but i thought i wasn't even supposed to be here?"

"we've made it work," tinky promises.

steph laughs. "i don't think so. this show reminds me what my dad would do, when he wanted to seem like he was fighting for something politically that he already had set up. it's all a show, right?"

tinky grins tightly. "i don't know what you mean."

"you're not sending me to the bad place, because i'm ALREADY THERE!" she declares. the other humans gasp. pete looks unfazed.

tinky blinks. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"there are only 5 sets of numbers here," steph says, "and guess whose is the highest? MINE! and i'm not even supposed to be here."

"two clerical errors? really?" steph demands.

"things happen," tinky says.

"and the three that got here fair and square?" steph asks, "we have a self-righteous church girl, a bullied youtuber who started bullying people himself, and an erotic writer. of teacher/student!" steph laughs, "come on, you're telling me that THOSE are the best humanity has to offer? and that max and i both just so happpenneeddd to end up here? in error?"

tinky grits his teeth. "no one else here is even human. if they were, they'd act like it. and they'd have numbers. but they don't."

"this is our own little nightmare realm that you cooked up to torture us."

then tinky laughs, maniacal and goat-like.

"wait," grace whispers, "i'm not... a good person?"

"NO!" tinky cackles, "that was the fun! but now... someone's ruined it for all of us. we're going to have to reset everything now. are you happy, stephanie?"

she frowns. "reset?" tinky snaps his fingers, and the humans pass out on his floor.

"i'm not supposed to be here," pete says, looking with wide eyes over to the passed out humans.

"ugh," tinky says, "RESET!" and not-a-robot not-a-boy spankoffski resets too.

he has another chance at this. and another. and another. and another. and another- however many it takes to get this right. and he WILL get this right, after all. he has all the time in the world.