#s4 does a lot of things and a lot of things Very Well

[raayllum]

me seeing s4 slander like

[freakinator]

thinking about kab and the thing about her i think is she knows just enough to keep herself safe Generally but not enough to really predict what would happen should something more... complicated??? unforeseen??? idk whats the right word to use but something not covered by someones reputation and/or vids happen, believe it or not this also affects her view of clownpierce (we'll get to that)

for example, mapicc has a reputation for being an violent, angry, & impulsive guy and nothing else which makes sense but is incredibly surface level and something that only really works if you dont have a lot of experience working with him

another is reddoons, his betrayal after the base incident while shocking is not unforeseen but his reputation as being a guy whos seen as being a reasonable person whos fairly loyal to his team made it seem like something he wouldnt do even tho it absolutely is

regarding how it affects her view of clown, since he isnt perfectly aligned with his reputation she instead pivots in the complete opposite direction and forgiving basically every crime he does even tho hes something much more mild and complicated than either his reputation or her view of him will ever be (think madonna-whore complex which is especially obvious when it comes to kabs vs woogies view of him)

another side effect of this Just Enough amount of knowledge aside from being blinded by her own expectations is that it frustrates ppl who think shes oversimplificating things (like me and seemingly several other tumblr users as well) especially when she claims that shes objectively correct and the smartest in the room at any given moment

how this roughness in her analysis affects her in the server still has yet to be fully seen but we do still have at least a couple months until the end but 'til then shes just gonna keep stumbling as more and more complicated situations pop up as is typical in lifesteal to happen and eventually shes gonna have to learn to adapt or else she'll be suffering the consequences one way or another

[yo9urt]

finished umbrella academy ... !

[therainscene]

It’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but the Alan Turing poster really tells us so much about Will that I consider it to be a significant piece of foreshadowing for S5.

First, let’s dissuade ourselves of the notion that Will chose Turing for his hero project for nerd reasons -- Will’s preferred flavour of nerdery is escapist fantasy, not computer science. He doesn’t know what an IP address is and the first thing he thinks of when he hears modem noises is a movie he likes.

No, he chose Turing because he admires him for being a gay man who accomplished so much in his short life.

On one hand, that’s pretty heart-warming -- the fact he’s willing to identify with other gay men and look up to them as role models shows us he’s making good progress in accepting his identity. On the other hand, it’s heart-breaking, because Turing’s story is not a happy one -- he was caught having a sexual relationship with a man and forced to choose between jail or chemical castration. He chose castration.

I remind you: Will identifies with this guy.

Will is growing up under the twin specters of AIDS and homophobia and likely assumes he’s destined to die young too. He’s been abused and bullied so much, I imagine he’s heard and internalized it all: that he deserves to die, that he’s disgusting, that he’ll never be fulfilled in life.

So when puberty begins crawling its way inside him and implants those shameful desires that make gay men so worthy of abuse... he chooses castration.

For all the sad pining he does in S4, we never really see Will express desire for Mike -- he never checks him out or shows signs of nervousness when they touch. He behaves with perfect platonic decorum at all times...

...unless we consider That One Scene With The Hose.

Sexual interpretations of this scene are controversial, and I can understand why; we’re so used to seeing Will as this innocent, immature little boy that it's shocking to catch him fantasizing so lustfully, even though these sorts of thoughts are pretty normal for a 15 year-old. But I think that’s the point. We’re supposed to feel uncomfortable about this, because Will feels uncomfortable about it too.

He’s done well in accepting his identity, but he’s an absolute repressed mess when it comes to accepting his sexuality.

So, that’s what the Turing poster tells us about Will. Here’s where the foreshadowing comes in: Will is not the only queer-coded character to have been metaphorically castrated.

Henry’s experience bears striking similarities to Turing’s: he too was caught engaging in a natural but forbidden behaviour and forced by his government to undergo a medical procedure to suppress that behaviour.

His villain speech to El in 4x07, which is ostensibly about his powers, also reads very strongly as a scathing criticism of heteronormativity, and it’s covered in rainbow motifs.

The metaphor here is obvious: Henry’s powers are a manifestation of his homosexuality.

Which implies that Will’s homosexuality can also manifest as powers. They’re repressed because he’s repressed.

It’s not a coincidence that the sexual tension was through the fucking roof in the infamous sauna scene. Every time Will’s supernatural ability to sense the Mind Flayer triggers in S3, Mike is also nearby.

What’s interesting about Mike is that his queer acceptance issues mirror Will’s: Mike has a healthy relationship with his sexuality (he casually checks guys out and plasters his bedroom walls with posters of buff dudes) but he just can’t bring himself to accept what this implies about his identity.

Always with the symmetry, these two. They complement each other perfectly; one’s hang-up is the other’s strength. They have a lot to teach each other about being queer.

And as repressed as they are, I think they want to learn from each other -- Will lets himself get flustered when Mike flirts with him in his bedroom, and Mike hangs on to every word of wisdom Will shares with him in their heart-to-hearts.

Internalized homophobia is a powerful force, but their bond is so strong that it empowers them to fight back.

Henry’s powers symbolize his anger at being mistreated and his desire to take that anger out on the world... but Will’s powers symbolize self-acceptance and love.

So he isn’t just going to defeat Vecna with his powers, and he isn’t just going to get the boy: these two things are one and the same.

[theymightbeclerics]

Will and El’s arcs are working in reverse to each other.

Will’s gonna end the show how El started it, with powers, escaping trauma and entering a relationship with Mike. El’s gonna end the show with everything Will started with, fully formed close friendships (Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Max), a loving family (especially with Joyce and Jonathan) and spending a lot of time in the upsidedown.

Both of them have been slowly making this transition into what each other has, to completely form their arcs. This also works well with their established dynamic as they’re usually connected and paralleled to each other.

The switch is necessary because we see these things the other has as the other’s deepest desires. El’s arc has been continuously centred around family (biological, found and bond wise) and she’s the one seeking this every season, she’s the one who explores this out of her own want and curiosity. Will’s arc has always had his sexuality looming over each plot point and the writers have been gradually building his feelings for Mike since the very beginning.

Each of these things drive their respective characters, they’re constant, unwavering plot points being shown to the audience constantly. The audience spends the entirety of s4 rooting for El to reunite with Hopper, to get away from papa and to save Max. While her relationship with Mike is still an element, it’s completely overshadowed by those key storylines (in other words it becomes irrelevant, like their relationship). The audience is also (supposed to be) rooting for Will’s happiness which would happen if Mike returned his feelings (he does).

With these wants being a constant in each character and their characters being parallels to each other, it makes the most sense for both of them to have been switching arcs the entire show.

[sanguineterrain]

it's a feeling that's fine - s.h.

Summary: You accidentally climb the wrong fence on the hottest day of May. It turns out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, etc. reader is in a toxic friendship; she's slightly bullied in that indirect mean girl way, but the toxic friendship ends. reader cuts her finger by accident. drinking and drug mentions. fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers, summer vibes, so many princess bride references. steve is super duper sweet!!! post s4 volume 2.

A/N: so if you wondered where i've been for the last two months.... it was in a cave writing this fic. i'm really proud of this one; the reader is a little different than how i usually write, but i hope you'll like her all the same :) if you enjoy this fic, please please let me know through comments/reblogs!

divider by firefly-graphics

Today is hot. 

Weatherman Dale had said this morning that today is a record high for May. It’s so hot, in fact, that Debbie Wellerman had called you this morning asking if you wanted to come swim in her pool. 

You’d asked if you could dig for worms in her yard. She’d sighed and hung up. You hope that means yes. Joan has been in need of some company. Worms would be good for her.

You go around Debbie’s house and stop at the back gate. The Wellermans are kind of mean and they don’t like it when you take too many cucumber sandwiches. To avoid them, you’ve taken to going through the back gate whenever Debbie invites you over. It works pretty well.

Except today, the gate is locked. Which is weird, because Debbie usually leaves it open. It’s how her boyfriend, Brett, sneaks in during the day, and how Brett’s brother, Chet, sneaks in at night. 

You’d asked once why the brothers come over separately. Debbie had gotten mad and kicked you out without giving you any ice cream. You don’t ask about Brett and Chet anymore.

The problem is that you’re wearing flip flops, which are not ideal for climbing fences. Or anything, really. You once climbed a jungle gym in flip flops and skinned both knees. 

You slip off your flip flops and fling them over the fence. They land a second later, clapping against the ground. The fence is covered in climbing ivy and tiny red flowers you’ve never seen before. You wonder how Debbie made them grow so fast.

The street is empty, which is nice. Sometimes people in Loch Nora like to yell at people who don’t also live in Loch Nora. 

The fence wood is hot but not so hot that you can’t touch it. You stick your feet in the little grooves and start to climb. It’s not too high of a fence, but it’s high enough to warn people who don’t belong here.

That’s never stopped you, though.

Getting over is trickier. You expect Debbie to see you by now, but there’s no sound. She must be inside, or maybe she’s out and forgot she’s invited you. She does that sometimes.

Wood dust clings to your fingers and the soles of your feet. When you’re a foot from the ground, you hop down. Then you turn.

There’s no sign of Debbie. There is, however, a boy.

He’s reclined on an inflatable blue ring floaty in the middle of the pool. He wears sunglasses and red board shorts with little white anchors on them. 

He has very pretty hair, both on his head and chest. He also has pretty lips. And arms. All of him is pretty, really. You wish you could see his face properly. He probably has a nice face too. Symmetrical and kind.

The area around the pool is paved just like at Debbie’s—only it’s a lot larger than you remember. There's a patch of dirt next to the gate. You go and crouch at the edge. You don't see any worms. Probably because it's so hot. You'd stay underground too if you were a worm.

You stand and turn to look at the boy again. He looks like he might be asleep. 

“Did Debbie invite you?” you ask.

The boy shoots up from the floaty. The shift in weight makes him lose his balance and he topples into the water a moment later. The floaty flips with him. 

He resurfaces almost immediately, spitting water and rubbing chlorine from his eyes. You squint.

Yes, you were right. He does have a very nice face.

The water comes up to his waist. He pushes his hair back in handfuls, blinking. Then he fishes his sunglasses out with his foot and sets them on his head. 

“Can you swim?” you ask.

He stares at you, blinking.

“What?” he says after a beat. 

“Can you swim?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah? Yes, of course I can swim.”

"It would be bad luck if you couldn’t.”

His brows furrow.

“Because I can't swim,” you clarify.

“I wouldn’t be in the pool if I couldn’t swim,” he says.

“That’s good thinking.”

You sit at the edge of the pool and dip your calves in. He wades closer until he’s about three feet away.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“I mean, how did you get in my backyard?”

“Oh. I climbed the fence.” 

You peer closer. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him. 

“Are you Brett and Chet’s triplet?” you ask. “You’re a lot prettier than them. Did their mother feed you extra vitamins?"

His eyes go wide. “Uh… Brett and Chet Kingsley?”

“Uh-huh. Debbie invites both of them over, but never at the same time.”

“Who's—they don’t have a triplet.”

“That’s good. Three’s bad luck.”

“My house number has a three in it,” he says.

“Don’t step on any sidewalk cracks,” you warn.

He tilts his head, tongue poking out like he’s sizing you up. You let him, focusing on his face instead. He has dark, warm eyes the color of black tea. His shoulders are toned with lots of freckles on them. He looks like a boy who’d like Debbie, not you. 

“Is Debbie going to be back soon?” you ask. You don’t want to get attached to a boy who’ll just end up wanting Debbie instead. You've made that mistake before.

“Um… if you’re talking about Debbie Wellerman, she lives on the next block over. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh. You’re the guy who fought the monsters.”

He eyes you warily. “Wh—how do you know about the monsters?”

"Who doesn't?" 

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. 

“You can’t tell anyone," he finally says. 

You shrug and kick at the water gently.

“I have no one to tell. Debbie doesn’t believe in monsters.”

“She doesn’t believe in giving you a key either, huh?”

“She doesn’t usually lock her gate,” you say. 

“Well, this isn’t her gate.”

“Yeah. I like your shorts.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink. 

“Are you getting sunstroke?” you ask. 

That turns his cheeks pinker. 

“No, no." He coughs. "I’m fine.”

“It’s a record high temperature for May,” you say. “That’s what Weatherman Dale said. The highest it's ever been since 1923." 

“Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I didn’t wanna run the AC the whole day so, here I am. My friend Robin was supposed to come over, but I guess she bailed.”

“Robin is a nice name. Is she a bird?”

Steve smiles. “No, she’s a girl.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she was a bird you’d made friends with while fighting monsters.”

“Well.” Steve shrugs. “I did sort of make friends with her while fighting monsters.”

“Robins are good omens. They bring luck."

“Huh.”

You swallow. You’re probably talking too much. That’s what Debbie would say. That’s why boys sneak into her yard and not yours. 

"So." Steve puts a hand over his forehead to block the sun. "Debbie Wellerman, huh? You don't seem like the type to be her friend."

"Friends can come from the most unusual places," you say. "Like under a tree or at the bottom of the ocean."

"Have you made many friends at the bottom of the ocean?" Steve asks with a smile. 

You hesitate. Is he making fun of you? Sometimes, you can't tell. The people in Loch Nora are good at making fun of you without you knowing. 

Steve’s hair has already begun to dry, a little crunchy from the chlorine. He doesn’t look like he’s making fun of you.

"Not many. But that's where I found Joan," you say.

"Joan was at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Kind of. I found her in a pond. Then I found her sister, but I lost her at sea and I couldn't swim out to rescue her. It was a sad day. Joan didn't handle it well."

Steve's brows rise. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Joan has been on the incline. I think she's finally ready to get back out there. I wanted to find her company, but I didn't want to disturb your dirt." 

“My dirt?”

“Mmhm. I'm trying to make a social club for her."

"Out of dirt?"

"Out of worms."

"Huh."

Steve rests his chin on his arm that's perched on the ledge. 

"Your hair is wavy," you observe. 

"What? Oh, yeah. I didn't put anything in it."

"Like what? Secrets?"

"No, like, gel. Product."

You nod in realization. "Your hair was so big in school.”

Steve winces. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't the best guy back then."

"You were in your chrysalis. You needed time to grow. But then you turned into a butterfly. Or a moth, if you prefer."

"Moths are spooky," says Steve. "They look like they have eyes on their wings."

"Yes. But they're actually friendly. Unless you eat them. Some are poisonous." You lean in, deadly serious. "Don't eat moths."

"Will do."

"No, don't. And warn your Robin too. She might think one looks delicious and meet her doom."

A smile creeps onto Steve's face. 

"You're kind of strange," he says. "In the best way possible."

"Thank you."

"Do you want some lemonade?" 

"Is it poisoned?" 

"What?" Steve startles. "No, of course not."

"No, I suppose not," you say thoughtfully. "You hadn't expected me to climb over your gate, so you wouldn't have had time to poison the lemonade."

Steve stacks one arm atop his other, looking up at you. The ends of his hair have begun to curl. You like it so much. 

"What if I pour from the pitcher right in front of you? Will that make you feel better?" he asks. 

"You can still put something in my glass," you say. "Or you might have built a tolerance to the poison for this exact moment. Like in The Princess Bride."

"I'm only twenty-one. I would've had to start very young to build a tolerance. Besides, what would be my motivation to poison you?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for motivation. Violent delights. But you've fought monsters, and Lucas Sinclair says you're a good guy. So, yes, I will have some lemonade."

Steve pushes himself out of the pool with ease, dripping water all over the concrete. You stare at the rivulets that hurry down his legs and chest. He has a lot of hair everywhere. You like that too.

He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your shoulder bumps his. Steve's skin is warm. He smells like chlorine and something sweeter. Pineapple, maybe. 

"You would do very well as a knight," you say. "If I were a princess, I'd want you to commit yourself to me."

Steve makes a weird noise in his throat. 

"Uh, th-thanks," he says. 

"You're welcome."

"So you, uh, know Lucas?"

"Yes. He lives on my block. His mom gives me rides sometimes."

You step in through the sliding glass door, which puts you directly in the kitchen. The house is at least twenty degrees cooler. You shiver at the sudden temperature change. 

"You don't have a car?" Steve asks. 

"No."

"You walked from your house to Loch Nora?"

"I took the bus part of the way. Then I walked."

Steve takes two glasses down from the shelf. Then he opens the refrigerator. You sit at the large kitchen island while he pours. 

"Debbie Wellerman has a car," Steve says. 

"Uh-huh. A Porsche."

A money car, she'd called it when she got it for her sixteenth birthday. Boys love girls with money cars. Maybe that's why boys don't love you. 

Steve hands you a glass. You take a long sip. Your mouth puckers and you scrunch your eyes shut as the acid coats your tongue.

"Shit. Not enough sugar?"

You swallow and open your eyes. 

"It's wonderful, Steve," you say earnestly. 

"You don't have to lie. I saw your mouth screw up."

"I'm not lying. It's the right amount of sour." 

Steve takes his own sip. His lips pucker, and he shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely needs more sugar."

You cradle your glass in your hands. "Don't take mine. She's perfect."

Steve breathes a laugh, returning the pitcher to the fridge. He sits beside you on the island. He's already developing a slight tan. You wonder if more freckles appear the longer he's in the sun. 

"Why doesn't Debbie pick you up?" he asks. 

"Why would she pick me up?" 

"Because that's what nice friends do. And it's unfair to expect you to come all the way here when the buses don't go through Loch Nora."

"Debbie always expects me to come over," you say. "So I do. She doesn't like my house."

Steve frowns deeply. 

"I don't mind the walk," you offer, trying to make him smile again. 

It doesn't work. Steve takes another sip. His lips purse, red like cherry candy and shiny with lemonade. 

"She should meet you halfway more often," he says, dumping his lemonade into the sink. 

You trace shapes into the condensation of your glass. 

"I wanted to go rollerblading," you say. "But…"

"But what?" he prompts. 

"She didn't. Neither did Brett. They wanted to make out in the pool.”

Steve grimaces. “Sounds like a drag.”

“They make weird noises. Like goats at the zoo.”

Steve snorts. You smile and kick your legs, pleased.

“My friends go rollerblading,” he says. “The kids love to skate at the park. You could come with us one day.”

“You have kids?”

“No, I—” Steve shakes his head, chuckling. “Definitely not. No, they’re only a few years younger than me, but me and the other people our age call them kids. They’re part of our little monster-fighting group. Anyway, uh, y'know. Open invite. If you're ever tired of goat noises."

You stare at him for a minute. He seems nervous, and you can't make out why. Nobody's ever nervous around you.

"Okay," you say. "I'd like to meet your kids."

"Cool. Well, um, I can give you my number. We usually meet up on weekends, but once school ends, any day is game."

Your heart rate picks up. You know this part. Only from a distance, of course. But you know what it means when a boy gives a girl his number. 

“You want me to call you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to. I feel like it’s a little forward for me to ask the girl who climbed my fence for her number. So, um, you can call me. Is that cool?”

Steve looks at you and waits. You chew your lip and nod.

“That’s okay.”

He smiles. “Great! I think I have a pen around here somewhere…”

Steve walks around the table to a stationary caddy on the counter and takes out a blue Sharpie. You stick out your arm, palm up. 

"Uh…" He looks at you. "I can find a notepad."

"This helps me memorize things better," you say and wiggle your fingers. 

"I don't wanna give you ink poisoning."

"You didn't poison me before. You're not very good at it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

You shrug. "Depends on your aspirations."

Steve hesitates for another second. Then he takes the top of your forearm and begins to write on the soft underside. He writes slowly, which tickles, but you remain still. 

He's so close. You're reminded all over again of his hands and warmth and pineapple scent. 

Steve caps the marker. You inspect the writing. 

"Good penmanship," you say. 

"Think so? Robin says it's chicken scratch. But she can't talk—hers is ten times worse."

"It's neat," you say. "But not serial-killer neat. If I were a graphologist, I would give you the all clear."

"Graphologist?"

"A handwriting expert. I would write in my report, 'not a murderer.'"

"Well, that's a relief," Steve says. "I try to keep the murdering to a minimum."

You hum and finish your lemonade in one gulp.

“Thank you for not poisoning me."

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steve replies through a smile. 

His smile makes you nervous. A good nervous, though, like you're about to sled down a big hill. 

You push yourself off the stool. Steve gets up with you and opens the sliding glass door for you.

“A very stalwart knight,” you say, and walk over to where your flip flops are.

You throw them back over the gate. They land with a clack on the sidewalk.

You find your footholds on the gate and turn to look at Steve.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve Harrington. Don’t fight any monsters by yourself.”

“Whoa, hang on!” He jogs over and lightly touches your arm. It sears your skin like you've been kissed by the sun himself. “I’ll unlock the gate. You don’t need to… climb again.”

Steve pulls the latch next to you. The gate creaks open. You hop off and walk through. 

Steve leans against the gate, elbow bent. His bicep bulges. You've never been this close to a shirtless boy. Your stomach flips. 

“Are you sure you know where Debbie lives?” he asks.

Your eyes dart from his chest to his face. 

“Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t exactly find it the first time.”

“Second time’s the charm,” you say.

“I thought it was the third time.”

“No. Three’s bad luck, remember?”

Steve runs his tongue under his molars, once again staring at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. You slip into your sandals while he figures you out.

“Well, um. You can come back if you get lost. Or you need help. Or you wanna look for rocks."

You tilt your head. “You’d look for rocks with me?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’d be—all rocks look the same to me. My friends would probably be better at it than me. But, yeah, I would.”

“Okay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He grins. “Sure thing.”

You take his hand and shake it. It’s warm and slightly calloused. You wonder if he holds girls’ hands often.

"I hope Robin finds your house," you say. "Goodbye, Steve Harrington."

Then you go.

You do find Debbie’s house on the second try. You hide your Sharpie'd arm behind your back when you enter. Debbie doesn’t ask why you’re late. Brett doesn’t acknowledge you, and you wonder how you mistook Steve for his brother. 

“There’s lemonade,” Debbie says as she heads in, Brett at her heels.

You don’t drink any. You know it won’t be the right amount of sour. 

Movies are better in the summer. This is a fact you've learned to accept. 

There's no dread of the cold after you finish a movie in the summer. The tape ends and you can go outside and still love the real world. 

Sorry, we're on a break! the sign on the store window reads in loopy script. You sit on the hot curb in front of Family Video, your yellow shorts bunched around your thighs. Sweat sticks to the back of your neck, and you drag a hand across, then wipe your fingers on your shirt. 

From here, you can just see the cement-filled cracks in the asphalt, where the earthquake split the main road two years ago. Because of the cracks, the bus stops three blocks from the plaza, so you'd walked three blocks in the heat. 

You hadn't been lying to Steve, though. You really don't mind the walk. 

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead. One slips into your eye and burns. You make a fist and press it into your eyelid.

Okay. Maybe you mind a little.

"Hey, neighbor!"

You look up, squinting through the sun. Lucas Sinclair waves at you. You wave back. A girl with two red braids is next to him. 

"Hi, Lucas," you say, standing as they approach you on the curb. 

"This is my girlfriend, Max," he introduces proudly. 

"My congratulations. Getting a girlfriend is no easy feat."

Max studies you for a moment. "I think I should get the credit, considering I said yes." 

"Undoubtedly," you say. 

"Are you his neighbor?" she asks. 

"Yes. Lucas is an outstanding neighbor. You should be very proud of him." 

"I believe it," says Max. 

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks. 

"Lots of things," you say. "Breathing, digesting. But presently, I'm waiting for the video store to reopen. I want to rent The Princess Bride.”

Max snorts. "Good luck with that. Those two take five hour lunch breaks now, ever since Keith moved away. It's barely a business anymore."

"There must be a lot of courses in their lunch," you muse. 

"Yeah… uh, we're going to get ice cream. Wanna join?" asks Lucas.

"Okay." You turn to Max. "Will my presence impede your special plans?"

Max squints. "Special plans? Like what?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you've written Lucas a series of sonnets to profess your love."

"A series of what?"

"Poems."

"Love poems are corny," she says. 

You wonder if Steve would agree. 

"Sometimes corny things are good. When they come from the right person," you say. 

Max acquiesces with a hum. 

"No love poems today," she says. "You should join us."

So you follow a couple steps behind them to the Baskin-Robbins down the block. 

The AC whooshes as you step inside, drying your sweat to your forehead. 

“Wow,” Max says with a scoff. “It’s like Starcourt all over again.”

You follow her gaze and spot Steve. 

Oh. Steve.

He's in a green Family Video vest. A girl sits across from him, wearing a matching vest. She has cropped hair and a bandaid on one knee. 

“Hey, losers!” Max calls. “This isn’t a lunch break.”

The girl flips her off. “The sign says we’re taking a break. It doesn’t specify how long of a break.”

Lucas orders a scoop of strawberry ice cream for himself and a scoop of cookies and cream for Max. 

“Yeah, plus, we’ve had a grand total of one customer today,” Steve adds.

“Well, you would’ve had two if you hadn’t been here on your seventeen hour break,” Max shoots back.

He scoffs. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Can I get one scoop of rocky road ice cream with oreo crumble and gummy worms in a cup?” you ask the cashier. 

She goes to scoop the ice cream. Max proudly points at you. 

“Her,” she says with a smirk. “She wanted to rent The Princess Bride, and now she’s not gonna be a paying customer ‘cause you two are lazy.”

“I would still be a paying customer,” you say.

Max shakes her head at you.

“I’m trying to make a point,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re doing great."

“Your total is three twenty-four,” the cashier says, sticking a spoon into your cup. 

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor draws your attention. Steve is up, trying to free his leg from under the table. He finally wiggles free and jogs to the counter, wallet in hand.

"Hi,” he says. "I can pay." 

“But I have money,” you say, brows knitting.

“No, I know. I—now you can save your money. Do you–do you mind if I pay for you?”

“Will I have to pay you back?” you ask.

“Oh my God,” the cashier mutters under her breath.

You shrink at her tone. You've missed something, evidently. You have no clue what. 

Steve glances at her, mouth pinching. 

“No,” he says gently, turning back to you. “You don’t have to pay me back. It’s a gesture. As a friend.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Steve gives her the money. You take your ice cream. 

“Smooth,” you hear Max say to Steve. He bumps her arm with his elbow.

Steve pulls a chair from another table for you. You all sit down.

"This is, uh…" Steve trails off, turning to you. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"You kept calling her Buttercup," the girl says. 

Steve whips his head around to hiss at her. 

"Robin." 

"She's my neighbor," Lucas says. 

"We know," Max tells him. 

"I don't." Robin raises her hand briefly, shooing Steve away. "I'm Robin Buckley."

"Hi, Robin. Watch out for moths," you say. 

She tilts her head and smiles. You look at Steve, who's already looking at you. 

"Princess Buttercup?" you ask. 

"Well." He rubs the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, kinda. You mentioned The Princess Bride and, uh, I don’t know your name, so…”

You mull that over. 

"If I'm Buttercup, you must be Westley." 

Steve's eyes widen. "Uh…" 

Robin snickers. Max smirks. 

"Interesting shade of red you're turning, Westley," Robin says. 

"Shut—"

He kicks her chair leg. She yelps and shoves him in retaliation. Max rolls her eyes. 

"Have some class, will you?" she says. 

"I'm classy!" Steve insists. 

"Not anymore," Lucas says gravely. "Now you're a glorified babysitter." 

"Childcare is dutiful work," you say. 

Steve grins at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Is that a mud pie?” he asks. 

You nod. 

“Gummy worms?” 

You tilt your head. “How did you know?”

Steve chuckles. “Lucky guess.”

Across the table, the others argue about the classiest ice cream flavors.

“It’s obviously mango sorbet.”

“Sorbet isn’t ice cream!”

“Are they your kids?” you ask.

Steve leans in so you can talk in his ear. His arm is on the back of your chair. If you shift the slightest inch, you’d feel him.

“Minus Robin. Though, sometimes…” He rolls his eyes playfully. “But, um, yeah. Two of them.”

“How many kids do you have?” you ask.

“Let’s see…” Steve counts on his fingers. “Six?”

“Wow. You must be some babysitter.”

“I’m alright.”

You lean in. Steve blinks.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You have an eyelash.” 

You swipe the hair off his cheek and hold your finger in front of his mouth.

“You have to make a wish.”

Steve’s eyes slide to you. He gently holds your hand in place. Your heart beats faster.

“‘Kay.” He blows the eyelash away, but doesn't release your hand. “Let’s see if it comes true.”

The numbers stare at you. Taunt you, really.

You practically have them memorized. You’d written them thirty times on a piece of notebook paper. Then you’d shoved that under your bed. 

Now you have it taped to your dresser mirror. 

You wish you could talk to Joan about it, but she’s bathing in the sink after an unfortunate encounter with a paint can. 

The Sharpie is gone from your arm, has been gone for several days now. But if you concentrate, you can see its silhouette on your skin. 

You get up and peel the paper off the mirror. Then you go down the hall to your phone. 

Carefully, you dial, making sure not to press any wrong buttons. 

The phone rings. You rock on your toes.

“Hello?” Steve says.

You freeze. 

“Hellooo…?”

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s Buttercup.”

“Oh!” He sounds so happy. “Hey! Hey, how are you?”

“Good.” You chew on a cuticle. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right! Did you wanna go rollerblading?”

Relief floods you. He remembers.

“Yes. If you’re planning it.”

“I haven’t talked to the kids, but I’m sure they’d be down.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I can pick you up in twenty?"

“I can walk.”

“C’mon, in the sun? You live on the same street as Lucas anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Well.” You twirl the telephone cord around your finger so tightly, it threatens to cut off your circulation. “Okay… if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Steve promises. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

You hang up and run to your room to dig for your skates. They’re stuffed under your bed next to a mini gumball machine. You shove two green gumballs in your mouth and race to the bathroom to check on Joan, nearly slipping on the wood.

“I’m going out, Joan. I think he might… he might like me.” You crunch on the gumball shells and shudder. “What a terrifying thought.”

You pull out the drain stopper and set Joan on a washcloth to dry. Then you go down the hall to put on your sneakers. 

Steve arrives five minutes early. You only know that because you spend the whole time watching the road from your curtained window. You shake your hands out, overwhelmed with nerves. 

It’s just a boy. He’s only a boy. 

The two of you meet halfway. Steve jogs backwards, unusually skillful, and opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey. Does Joan want to come?” Steve asks. 

You shake your head. “She’s having a spa day. It’s just me.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you,” he says, sweet and earnest. 

You duck inside the car and shake your hands a little, trying to fend off the returning nerves. Just a boy.

“So, that’s El,” Steve says as he gets into the driver’s seat, pointing to a girl with short curls. “And you know Max and Lucas.”

Max nods at you with a smile. Lucas waves.

“Hi, El,” you say. “Cool hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft. “I like your skates.”

“I found them at a yard sale. You can find anything in a yard.”

"Okay," Steve says. "Everybody buckled?" 

“Yes, Mom,” Max mumbles. 

Steve catches your gaze and rolls his eyes. You smile.

Briefly, you worry you’ll have to fill the silence and talk about yourself, like people expect you to. But Steve and the kids hold conversation easily. They talk about anything and everything. 

They're more energetic than you're used to; Debbie always prefers it to be quiet. 

But you don't mind it. You don’t feel lonely like you do when you’re with Debbie.

“Alright, please stay within this area,” Steve says when he parks and everyone gets out. “Within—”

“Shouting distance!” Max yells. “Yeah, we know!”

The park isn't crowded. Most of the paths are clear, so skating will be no problem. 

Max gets out two skateboards from the trunk. 

“Max is going to teach me how to do an ollie,” El informs you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you say. “I want to master my yard skates.”

She nods and follows the others to the small skate park on the other side of the trees. 

You bring your skates to a bench and sit, lacing them up your feet. Steve is a few feet away, swinging his arms slightly.

“Aren’t you going to join them?” you ask.

“Oh, uh, no. I brought my own skates… I thought maybe we could skate together, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I would like that,” you say. 

Steve beams. “Alright, cool. I’ll go get mine.”

You stand, about to take a step forward—and immediately slip.

Steve reacts instantly, lunging to catch you. One hand grabs your elbow, the other on your stomach. You squeal and cling to his shirt. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, helping you stand upright.

“I’m okay,” you say, breath caught in your throat.

You take a step but your foot wobbles. Steve grabs you again. You don’t try to take another step.

“I thought skating would be intuitive,” you say, rolling one skate to test.

“What?” 

You look up. Steve’s face is inches from yours. His hair is golden in the sunshine. His eyes lock on your own; his focus sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“You know, like how babies are able to swim for the first six months of their lives?”

“Uh…” Steve tilts his head. “No?”

“Oh. Because they were in the womb, they have that ability. ‘Cause they float around in there for nine months, you know? But then they lose it. That’s why we have to learn how to swim.”

“Wow. That’s a cool fact.”

Nobody ever thinks your facts are cool. But Steve does.

“Well, I thought skating would be similar,” you say. “I’ve watched other people skate, so I thought I’d just… do it. I guess I lost that at six months too.”

Steve’s smiling. It’s a gentle smile, though. Not a teasing smile. 

“I see,” he says. “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”

“It’s alright. Life is far more than disappointment. No use getting hung up on it.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” he asks. “I promise I’m good at it. Coach Collins said I could’ve seriously pursued it.”

“So skating for you is like avoiding death for Westley,” you say.

“Actually, I’m pretty good at avoiding death too,” Steve says. “And making grilled cheeses.”

“Triple threat.”

He ducks his head with a laugh, and you feel the warmth of it flow through your own body.

“Sure. Can’t make lemonade for shit, though.”

“I think your lemonade is perfect, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks are scarlet again. It’s quickly becoming your favorite color.

“I would like it if you taught me,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll get my skates after you get the hang of it. Put your hand on my arm, right here.”

Steve pats his forearm. Carefully, you do as he says. 

“I’m nervous,” you confess. 

“I got you,” Steve says, cheek brushing your head. “I won’t let you fall, Buttercup.”

Saint Aloysius’ parking lot has the best rocks. 

You've never told anybody as much because you imagine the lot would get busy, and you like it empty.

Today, you're searching for a brother for Joan. Ever since that tragic day at Macinaw Island, Joan's been very lonely. It‘s hard being a sisterless sister. 

Joan is smooth and round, so you look for an equally smooth and round brother. Commonality is important. 

Your knees hurt from squatting, so you sit. The rocks poke your butt. 

You hear a car rolling up the hill, engine a soft purr. You stop and turn. 

The car is maroon and shiny, with only a couple slight scratches you can't notice unless you look really hard. You don't recognize the license plate, although you have yet to start your record of Hawkins plates. 

It putters to a stop in front of Giovanni's Bakery across the street. The car doors open. 

"I'm losing my edge, Robs! I made a damn fool of myself. I can't even—"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like we're glossing over the fact that you don't even know this girl. And what she did was technically trespassing."

"Do you know her name?" another voice pipes up. 

"No, Dustin, I don't know her name. I don't even know if she lives in Hawkins!"

Their voices disappear as they go inside the bakery. You find Joan a brother, Jack, and Jack finds a wife named Gwen. Gwen isn't smooth and round; she's sharp-edged and will be harder to clean, but she's a muted salmon color and you think she's pretty. You hope Jack will find her pretty too.

As you dig through the pile of rocks, your finger catches on the edge of a broken bottle. It slices your finger. Blood swells immediately. 

You put your new rocks in your plastic red pail with your other hand. Then you stand, joints popping as you do so. You stick your ribs out and bend your spine in a stretch. 

You cross the street to the bakery, pail in hand. The bell jingles as you enter. You hum the ding-dong under your breath. 

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asks.

"Hello. Can I have five baci di dama and five of the raspberry sandwich cookies?"

He goes to the display case with a paper bag. You rest your elbows on the counter, pail handles over your arm. 

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have a bandaid? I'm bleeding."

The man purses his lips. "No bandaid, sorry."

"That's okay. Just the cookies, then." 

"Buttercup?"

You turn. Steve stands before you, wearing his Family Video vest. Robin is beside him, her hair piled into a windblown bun on her head. Another boy, shorter than both, younger, is with them. He waves at you, curls bouncing. 

You wave back. Robin squeals.

"Oh my God, what happened to your finger?" she asks, horrified. 

"There was a broken bottle in the parking lot."

"Jesus," Steve says. He takes your hand and inspects it. He's so close and warm. All you can do is stare at the freckles on his neck. 

“Why were you in the parking lot?” he asks.

“I was looking for rocks. This is the best rock spot in all of Hawkins. Well, after Lover’s Lake. But the pH has been abnormally high there. Probably because of the monsters. So I came here.”

"Hi, I'm Dustin," the boy introduces. “Is your finger okay?”

"Hi, Dustin. I think I’ll survive,” you say. “Dustin means brave warrior in Norse.”

Dustin beams. “Yup. I was named after my grandfather. He served in World War Two.”

"Names are important,” you say. “Joan agonized for days deciding what I should call her. Eventually, I decided for her. A name says a lot about a person. Steve has a warrior and good luck at his side."

"Yep, Steve-o here is pretty blessed to have us. And," he gestures to you, "You are?"

"Hungry," you say, taking your bag of cookies with your free hand. 

The bag crinkles as you open it. You hold it out to Steve. 

"Do you want one? I promise they’re blood-free.”

"Uh…” He glances at your hand. “Are you sure your finger is okay?”

“She’s a trooper. Survived ink poisoning and everything.” You wave the bag again. “Cookie?” 

Steve takes a baci di dama out and pops it into his mouth. He hums as he chews, nodding. 

"'S good," he says after he swallows.

"Baci di dama means lady's kisses in Italian," you say. 

His cheeks turn pink again. 

"You should drink more water," you add. "You turn pink easily."

Robin snorts. Steve holds a hand to his cheek. 

"Uh, thanks."

“You’re welcome. Robin, would you like a cookie?" 

"No, thanks,” she says. “I'm picking up a tiramisu for my mom's birthday."

"I want a cookie!" Dustin says. 

"Dude," Steve hisses. 

You hold the bag open to Dustin. He takes a raspberry sandwich cookie. 

"So," Dustin says, mouth full. "Are you Steve’s girlfriend or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you say.

“Du-ude!” Steve says too loudly, voice climbing in pitch.

“What? You talk about her all the freakin’ time. I needed to know.”

You look at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck and half-smiles.  

“Anyway,” continues Dustin. “How do you know Steve?”

"I climbed over his gate by accident on the hottest day of May,” you say.

"By accident?" 

"Yes. All the gates in Loch Nora look the same. Except Steve's gate has climbing ivy and little red flowers. It's much nicer than the other houses. It looks like a person lives there. I mistook it for Debbie's gate." 

Robin tilts her head at you. You don't care what Steve says; she's a one hundred percent bonafide bird. 

Dustin points to your pail, crumbs all over his chin. "Why do you have rocks?"

"They're for Joan," you say.

"Joan? Is she your friend?"

"She's more like my confidante. She doesn't talk much, so I think it'd be presumptuous of me to call her a friend when I have no idea where we stand." 

"Navigating friendships can be hard," Steve offers. 

"Yes," you say. "They can be."

"Being straightforward can help a lot," he continues. "It, uh, at least helped me. That way the other person knows what you mean. No room for miscommunication."

You nod. "That's good advice. I'll have to try that with Joan. Sometimes she can be kind of hard-headed."

You roll up your bag of cookies and reposition your pail on your arm so the metal doesn't dig into your skin. 

"It was nice to meet you, Dustin," you say. "Goodbye, Steve and Robin."

"Wait!"

Steve holds the door for you and follows you out. He still smells sweet, like pineapple, and also a little woody. He touches the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine.

"I have a first aid kit in my car. Let me wrap your cut."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about it. "Okay."

You follow Steve to his car. He pops the trunk and rummages. You spot a bat with nails. 

"Very inventive," you say, pointing at the bat. 

Steve laughs shyly. "Yeah, uh, the monsters."

"I definitely wouldn't want to fight you if I were a multi-dimensional monster."

He smiles and takes out a small spray bottle of disinfectant. 

"This is gonna sting, okay? But we need to make sure nothing gets infected."

"An infection would be unfortunate," you say. "I'm quite attached to this finger." 

He sprays and cleans your finger. You wince and Steve squeezes your wrist in apology. Then he pulls out bandaids. 

"Any preference? I have rainbow, Star Wars, 'cause they're all a bunch of nerds, cats… oh, I have flowers! ‘Cause you’re, uh, Buttercup, you know?" 

"Flowers," you say, because Steve's so excited about it. 

He nods and opens the bandaid. You hold out your finger and Steve carefully wraps it. He rubs your knuckle. 

"Thank you," you say. 

"You're welcome. Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

He closes the trunk, swinging his keys on his finger. 

"Sorry if that was awkward, by the way," he says. "Dustin, I mean. He can be… blunt." 

"It wasn't awkward."

“It wasn’t?”

“No,” you say. “I’m happy you tell people about me. I tell Joan about you all the time.”

"Oh." He nods. "That—that’s good. So… we’re both… uh—”  

"Do you want another lady's kiss?"

"What? Oh—" Steve clears his throat. "N-no, that's okay. Thanks."

You take out a raspberry cookie and bite into it. 

"Your hair has product," you observe. 

"Yeah. No secrets, though."

"Everybody's hair has secrets."

"Even yours?" he asks. 

"Especially mine." 

Steve rubs the back of his neck. You open your bag and take out another cookie. He looks like he's trying to find the right words to say. You don't mind waiting. 

"Hey, do you like barbecue?" he asks. 

"I like it as well as anybody else."  

"Well, um, I'm having a barbecue this Saturday. Lucas won a big championship game and so we're celebrating his win."

"That's nice," you say. "Congratulations to Lucas."

"Yeah! So, um, did you maybe want to come too? It'll be at my house. You could bring a friend if you wanted. Like Joan."

"Joan is a vegetarian," you say. "But I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

Steve smiles. He has such a pretty smile. 

"We're ordering pizza too, so Joan can have some of that."

"You're a very thoughtful host.”

Then you have a terrible thought. But you have to ask it because if you don't, you might be breaking some kind of invisible expectation. You do that a lot. 

"Does Debbie have to come?" you ask. 

Steve blinks. "Uh, no? It's not a requirement."

"Some people ask me to parties because they want Debbie to come." 

Steve frowns. "That's rude. I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. What time does the barbecue begin?"

"You can stop by anytime. But we'll probably start eating around six."

You nod. "Joan and I will be there at five thirty."

Steve's answering grin is blinding. He must be really excited to meet Joan. You get it; Joan's the life of any party she attends. 

"Great, that's great. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Steve," you say. 

"Bye," he answers like he's out of breath. 

Even the way he breathes is pretty.

Every month, Miles Stanwick throws a party. 

Miles is a celebrity in Hawkins, his father being a state senator, and Miles is, according to a drunk Debbie, “the Gatsby to her Daisy.”

You're pretty sure Debbie hasn't read the book. Or maybe she's a living tragedy. Either is possible. 

It had been just you two in her room, without the Other Debbie she pretends to be to impress the people of Loch Nora, when she'd told you what it meant to be in love. 

"You just know," she'd said, her breath reeking of tequila.

You'd turned your head. Tequila made your nose itch. 

"But you love Brett," you'd said. 

"Brett is who I'll marry," she'd corrected. She’d sounded so sad. "Miles is all I've got."

Then she'd thrown up all over her carpet. You'd helped her into bed and made a mental note to find her a friend like Joan to keep her company, for when you weren't around. 

You don't like parties. They're loud and smelly and usually filled with people you don't like or don't know. And at a party, people you don't like and people you don't know are one and the same. 

You would leave, but Debbie is your ride tonight. So you're stuck here until midnight, maybe even later. 

Someone plugs in a karaoke machine and that gets most of the party's attention. The music is horribly loud and is the kind that’s just a lot of synthesizer. 

A guy jumps onto the Stanwicks' coffee table and knocks over the potpourri dish. Dried petals and orange peels scatter across the carpet. 

Debbie appears in front of you, a red Solo cup in her hand. 

"What did I bring you here for?" she asks, mouth curled. "To slump on the couch?"

"No one here wants to talk," you say. 

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Parties aren't for talking. They're for drinking and making out. Someone's rolling a blunt in the den. Go suck on that, will you?"

The people in Loch Nora are so good at making you feel two inches tall. You wish you'd brought Joan. She'd know what to do. 

You've tried alcohol before. Champagne at a wedding. A sip of rum from the Wellermans' liquor cabinet, back when Debbie wasn't so caught up in being just like everyone else. 

Maybe it's your fault, too. Maybe you're too good at standing out. 

You go to the kitchen. It's already trashed. You step over a spill on the floor. Then you turn around and lay down some paper towels so no one will slip. 

There are various bottles of strong liquor strewn across the counters. You decide to try the punch and fill your cup to the top. You sniff it and your nose wrinkles at the whiff of alcohol. 

You so badly want to have fun. You want to know what makes all of this worth it. You want your friendship with Debbie to be worth it. 

You down the punch in one go. It makes you cough and you scramble for water at the sink. You wonder if the punch is poisoned. 

You wobble out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, head already woozy. A girl stands with a drink, one arm folded. 

"Where's Debbie?" you ask. The girl winces and steps away from you. 

"She went with Miles and some other people to the lake."

Your eyes widen. "No, they can't. There's monsters."

She looks at you like you might be an insect splattered on her dashboard. 

"You're Debbie's weird friend, aren't you?"

Weird doesn't make you feel good, like Steve calling you strange did. Weird makes you feel like when a boy in sixth grade stepped on your heels while going up the stairs because he thought it was funny. 

"Debbie would've told me," you say. 

The girl shrugs. "Guess she ditched you. She can't score with Miles if you're killing the vibe." 

Weird tastes like poison in your mouth. 

"Debbie was my ride," you say, but she’s already gone.

Your head aches. You try to think on what to do next. It's nearly midnight. No one is awake, and you have no idea how to call a cab. 

You find the Stanwicks' phone in the hall and dial the only number you know, besides your own, and the local pizzeria. 

"Hello?" 

You lean against the wall, phone in both hands. 

"Uh, hello? Who is this?" 

"H-hi, Westley." Your voice cracks. 

"Hey," Steve says, unbearably gentle. "My favorite rock girl. Jesus, it's… midnight."  

"I'm sorry," you say. 

"No, no, it's alright. I'm just—is everything okay? Are you okay?" 

"Debbie ditched me."

Silence. For a moment, you panic that the line's dropped.

"Steve?"

"Where are you?" 

"I'm, um, at Miles Stanwick's. The address is… well, I don't remember, but I'll go outside and look for the house number—"

"I know it," Steve says. "Stay right there. I'm coming to get you. Don't drink any more."

Your lip wobbles. "'Kay."

"It's okay," he soothes. "Drink some water. Don't take anything from anybody." 

"I just wanted to be fun," you blurt. 

"You are fun, Buttercup. Way more fun than anybody at that house, I guarantee it. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Steve," you say, no longer feeling so small. 

You hang up and go to the kitchen to get more water from the sink. Then you return to the hallway and sit, back against the wall, knees tucked into your chest. 

You doze, lids heavy from the alcohol. The next thing you know are two hands on your arms. 

You jolt awake. One hand cradles the back of your head so you don't thump it against the wall. 

"Hey, hey." Steve kneels in front of you. He brushes your cheek with a cool knuckle. "It's me, it's Steve. Are you okay?"

His hands are cool against your overheated skin. He smells like lemon shampoo. 

"My knight," you say. 

"I thought Westley was a pirate."

“He was only pretending." 

You let Steve ease you up. His car keys dig into your hip.

"Ow," you say dazedly. 

"What? What hurts?"

"Keys."

"Oh." Steve shifts you to his opposite side, hand on your back. "Sorry, honey." 

"Honey never spoils," you say. "Did you know that? You could dig up honey from a tomb that's thousands of years old and as long as it was stored in an airtight container, it's good to eat."

"I love that you know that." 

"Do you really?" 

"I really do," Steve says. "C’mon, let's get you home." 

Outside, the moon is a dot of cream in the purple sky. The neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are also dark. 

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you say. 

"Don't be. I'm glad you called me. These parties can get out of hand."

"Debbie left. She went to Lover's Lake with Miles—"

The panic returns, flooding your body. You squirm and Steve tries to keep you steady. 

"Whoa, what's—"

"The monsters! There's monsters down there, Steve. I don't like Miles, but I don't want him to be eaten!"

"No, no, no more monsters," Steve assures you. "They can't come through there anymore."

You still. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Steve leans in and pulls the seat belt over you.

"Comfy?" he asks. 

"I like you so much, Steve Harrington."

It's too dark to tell, but you suspect he's got another case of sunstroke. 

"I, um, like you too, Buttercup. You're really cool."

"Me?" You wave your hand. "No."

"Really," he insists. "You are. The coolest."

If you were Debbie, if you weren't weird in the wrong way, if you didn't go to parties to talk, and if you fit a million other criteria you never will, Steve would kiss you right now. Or maybe you'd kiss him. 

But you don't know how to go about that. You don't think it's your right to do such a thing. 

So Steve shuts the door and walks around to the driver's seat. You stare at your flower bandaid.

"Four three's," Steve says as he turns the ignition. 

You turn your head. "Hmm?"

"The house number. Four three's. That's gotta be, like, astronomically bad luck, right?"

"Without a doubt."

Except you're here with Steve Harrington, and he calls you honey and thinks you're cool. And that doesn't seem like bad luck at all. 

"I'm going to a barbecue," you call out. 

There's no reply. You close the door behind you.

Joan sits in your pocket. You've tied a purple ribbon around her head, right above her googly eyes. You don't know what the dress code is for a barbecue, but you hope she's not underdressed.

You haven’t spoken to Steve since Miles’ party. You’re not sure what you should say, and you can’t bear the thought of calling him to hear silence. 

Even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him, you hope he’ll still be friends with you. Steve and his kids have grown on you. You don’t know if you can go back to who you were before the hottest day of May. 

“Material Girl” plays from inside Steve's backyard. You mouth the words as you fling your flip flops over the gate. 

"What the fuck?" someone says from the other side. 

You climb the gate and shimmy down. It's a good thing you're wearing shorts under your dress.

A boy, lanky and tall but probably Lucas's age, holds one of your flip flops. He stares at you and shakes the shoe. 

"Is this yours?"

"Both of them are," you say. "Does Steve like Madonna?"

He grimaces. "Unfortunately."

"Cool."

You spot Steve sitting on one of the deck chairs with Robin and a boy your age with big, curly hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt with cropped sleeves. 

"Venus" plays next and you wobble in time with the music as you walk over to Steve. 

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes," you whisper. The pavement is warm under your toes. 

"Making every man mad." 

Steve turns just as you reach him. He stands so fast he shakes the chair. 

"Hey!" he says. He sounds out of breath again. "Hey, you came."

"You invited me," you say. 

"Yeah, yes." Steve nods. "I did. I'm glad you're here."

"You play good music."

"Ha!" Steve whips his head to look at the curly haired boy. "Suck it, Munson."

"She's obviously biased." 

"Munson," you say. "Eddie Munson?"

Eddie freezes under your gaze. Robin and Steve glance at you. 

"Yeah, uh, that's me." Eddie smiles weakly. "Look, you might've heard some stuff abou—"

"You helped fight the monsters," you interrupt. "You're very brave." 

Eddie's eyes widen. "I—"

"Most people just like to ignore monsters. It takes a really good person to fight them." You turn to Steve. "Do you have orange Fanta?" 

"Yeah, sure. I'll get you a can. Feel free to sit… where are your shoes?"

You point behind you. "Your bodyguard had to screen them after I climbed your gate. You have very tight security."

"After you climbed my… wait, Mike? God, I’m sorry about him. I'll get your shoes back."

"It's okay. Flip flops are dangerous weapons. It's only a matter of time before the airport bans them." 

Steve tilts his head, eyes warm. "Right. I'll be back. That's Eddie and Robin… you know them."

"I know their names, and that's about all you can know about anybody."

Eddie giggles. You look at him. He doesn't seem to be laughing at you, so you sit where Steve was sitting, across from Eddie's chair. You point at his shirt. 

"I like Kashmir."

"Thank God! Somebody with decent tastes."

"I'll listen to anything," you say. "It's important to be a good listener."

Eddie grins. "Words of the wise."

"Where's Joan?" Robin asks. 

"Right here." You take Joan out of your pocket and set her down on the edge of the pool chair. 

"Sick," Eddie says.

You nod. "The ribbon was my pick."

"I like it," Robin says. 

"Thank you."

Steve returns with an orange Fanta for you and a root beer for Robin. 

Robin points to Joan. "Steve, this is the famous Joan we've heard so much about."

"That's a rock," says Steve. 

"Yep."

"Oh." He nods in understanding. "Joan is your pet rock?"

"Confidante," you correct. "’Pet’ is demeaning."

"Got it. And was Joan's sister also your confidante?"

"No. Joan's sister didn't like me much. She thought I was a bad influence on Joan. But we shouldn't talk about it now. Joan gets very sad when I bring it up."

You open your can. The carbonation hisses. It's itchy and sweet on your tongue. 

"I like your hair," you say. "It's fluffy. Like it was on the hottest day of May."

Steve pushes a couple strands behind his ear.

"Thanks. The gel is too much on hot days like these. Weighs me down."

"At least you won't float away." You look at Eddie. "Is your hair full of secrets too?"

Eddie ruffles his hair. "Not as many as Steve's, but I've got a couple in here. 'S what gives my curls volume." 

"Hm. Just as I suspected," you say. 

"Ste-eve!" Dustin whines from across the yard. "You promised burgers!"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You'd think he's never been fed in his life."

Eddie pats his shoulder. "You've got this, Harrington."

"Oh, no. You wanna eat, you've gotta earn your keep. Come on."

Eddie groans, flinging himself off the chair. "Save me, Buckley!"

"Already did that," she says, pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes. "Never again." 

"You should tie up your hair so it doesn't catch fire," you suggest. 

"Well, at least somebody cares about me," Eddie declares, pulling his hair into a ponytail. 

Steve turns to you and smiles softly. 

"Are you hungry? You can have the first pick of the burgers."

"Won't Dustin be annoyed?"

Steve shrugs. "Kid could use some manners. Besides, pretty girls always get the first pick. It's the law." 

You follow Steve and Eddie to the grill, pretty girl echoing in your brain the whole time. 

Eddie's hair doesn't catch on fire and Steve makes you a perfect burger. The sun sparkles on the pool surface. The kids come out to eat and, predictably, Dustin complains about not getting the first burger.

"Not fair. Just 'cause she's your girlfriend," he mumbles as he goes off to search for the mustard. 

You check to see if Steve had heard the comment. He doesn't seem to have; you can't decide if you're relieved or not. 

The chairs are all taken by the time you finish fixing up your burger. Steve stands immediately as you approach.

“Here, take my seat,” he says.

“We can share,” you offer.

Steve lets you take the back of the chair, settling at the foot. “You Make My Dreams Come True” plays on the speakers. 

“Whoever made this mixtape is a genius,” you announce.

“You like it?” says Steve. “I actually made this one. Robin and Eddie think my taste sucks, but—”

“It’s spectacular.”

He hums, ducking his head shyly. “Well, speaking of spectacular: I made more lemonade, if you want to test it before I unleash it upon the masses.”

“I’ll happily drink your lemonade,” you say. “It’ll build my iocane tolerance.”

Steve grins. “I rented The Princess Bride, by the way. I know you meant to get it a few weeks ago. We can watch it tonight, if you want.”

“You remembered I wanted to watch it,” you say.

He nods. “Well, uh, yeah. Do you still want to? If you don’t, I can—”

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve stands, hand outstretched so you’ll give him your empty plate. “I’m going inside. Anybody want anything?”

“Doritos!” Robin shouts.

“Napkins, please,” El says.

“Cherry Coke!” Mike calls.

“Beer!” Eddie whoops.

“Doritos, napkins, got it. The cooler is right there, Wheeler, and are you kidding, Eddie? No drinking by the pool. Have we not learned our lesson from the last four years?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve learned anything, Steven.”

“Can you bring us popsicles?” Max asks. “Lemon and grape.”

“Ooh, popsicles sound good,” says Robin. “Bring me one too. Fruit punch.”

Steve sighs, lifting his arms.

“Two hands, guys. Only got two.”

“I can help,” you offer.

“Now that’s a great idea,” Robin says. “The two of you in the kitchen, alone. Really brilliant, don’t you think, Steve?”

Steve glares at her. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“That’d be great, thank you.”

You follow him into the kitchen. It looks exactly like the last time you were here, except for the food. Steve opens the freezer and digs through the box of popsicles. Then he takes the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and sets it on the counter.

“Can you get the Doritos?” he asks. “They’re up there.”

You open a shelf over the stove. The chips are at the very top. You try jumping; all that does is bang your ribs into the counter.

"Whoa, whoa.”

Steve’s hand rests on your back. Your stomach swoops. 

"Easy, Buttercup. I’ll get it, sorry ‘bout that."

You frown. "The Doritos have eluded me."

"They’re a tricky bunch," he says, reaching and successfully grabbing the chips.

"I knew you’d best me and succeed."

"Best you?" 

"Yes," you say. "Like in a duel."

Steve tilts his head, a tiny crinkle forming in the center of his brows. 

"Are we going to duel? Like Inigo and Westley?"

"Not if I can help it," you say. "I'm terrible with a sword."

"I would never try to sword fight you." 

"I appreciate that."

His hand slips from your back. You watch it fall to his side.

“Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want,” Steve says as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. “You can also take food home.”

You exhale through your nose and wiggle your fingers a little, trying to stave off the nerves. You wish Joan was in your pocket right now, but you left her on the deck chair. 

“Buttercup?” 

You look up. Steve has a glass of lemonade in one hand. The top button of his polo shirt is undone. Was it always undone? You can’t remember. 

Anyway, he’s beautiful. And you’re so damn strange.

“Yes, Westley?”

Steve smiles. You don’t think anyone has ever smiled at you as much as Steve does. 

“Everything okay?” he asks.

He puts the glass in front of you. You glance at it, then back at him.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I won’t force you to drink my crappy lemonade if you don’t want to, y’know.”

“You called me strange,” you blurt. “When we first met.”

Steve’s eyes widen. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says softly. “But I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it.”

“No, I–I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. But…”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I’m not like Debbie,” you say. 

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never be like Debbie.”

“I much prefer you as yourself,” he says.

“Oh.”

You sip your lemonade. Your lips pucker but you smile all the same.

“Damn,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I really can’t nail that lemonade, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper. 

He takes a step forward. You set the glass on the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I would very much like that.”

Steve’s lips are slightly chapped. You taste like lemonade and he tastes like Coke and God, you like it so much.

You loop your arms around his neck like you’ve wanted to do for weeks. He returns in kind, both hands slipping to your waist. 

It’s not just a boy kissing you. It’s Steve.

The sliding glass door whooshes open and you jerk your head back in surprise. Max and Dustin trod in. 

Dustin shrieks. 

“Seriously? This is what was taking you so long?”

“If you were gonna do that, we would’ve gotten the popsicles ourselves,” Max says with a huff, grabbing the popsicles and chips from the counter. 

“Told ya they were making out!” comes Eddie’s voice from outside. “I warned you, kiddies!”

They clear out, with one last stink eye from Dustin. Steve shakes his head, nose pressed to your cheek.

“Again, very sorry about them.”

“They wanted to check in on their favorite babysitter,” you say.

Steve lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “I need a padlock or something.”

You hum and lean over to unwrap a popsicle. 

“Oh,” you say. “Three left.”

“Three popsicles?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, that explains it. Astronomical bad luck, right?”

“Actually,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I think my theory was wrong.”

[will80sbyers]

So I'll put the leaks together to make things clearer-ish (?) Take these as NOT CONFIRMED like any other "leaks".

the leaks we have are only until episode 4 so keep that in mind, plus the person leaking may have their own interpretation of the scenes/not have seen all the scenes/not understand queer subtext

The source said that Mlv did not break up, has not filmed a break up scene (honestly I doubt they are still together but ok)

Will and Mike get on very well together

They don't think there's "any indication" of Mike and Will getting together for now

Will and Mike's relationship is extremely important

Mike has a lot of screentime and many of the storylines revolve around him ( From Hellfire, Will, El, Holly, Nancy )

Will is going to have a guy, that we've seen before in previous seasons, interested in him - we don't know who it is but speculated about him being Chance (one of Jason's friends from S4)

Will does NOT like him back

Mike & Will have many scenes together and during one of these scenes Finn and Noah cried for some reason

This guy MAY be the guy, it's not confirmed

Steve has "the most epic scene"

[annabelle--cane]

there's a lot going on in the mag 58 supplemental, this one little scene does a lot of heavy lifting to set up martin and tim's arcs for the rest of the show, but I want to focus on these lines particularly because of how therapy comes back as a symbol in s4/s5.

broadly, in the context of the meta plot and not the individual statements, seeking therapy in tma is representative of trying to improve oneself and get out of a bad situation. later, when taking melanie to therapy, georgie suggests that jon should get some as well but, when asked, says she wouldn't be willing to escort him like she does with melanie, showing how she does wish the best for jon in theory but doesn't think he actually wants to get better, or at least that she's not sure enough to involve herself with him.

that view of jon doesn't come from nowhere, because here we have an instance of him rejecting that same offer, symbolically rejecting help in favor of digging himself deeper on his own (obligatory disclaimer that irl therapy is a very personal thing and says nothing about one's overall character, this is just an examination of a motif in fiction). the word choice of "he just says no" imo implies that martin has suggested this multiple times and jon keeps giving the same answer, continually reaffirming that he does not want outside assistance to pull him out of this spiral.

the fact that martin's the one advocating to go soft on jon despite repeated refusals for more sympathetic help is interesting to me, because I would guess that this conversation was instigated by jon aggressively confronting martin about trevor herbert two episodes earlier. we know he was stalking all three of his assistants, but that is the biggest and most threatening outburst we get from jon in this period, and in this conversation it is still martin being defensive and apologetic vs tim being frustrated and pissed off.

I've said recently that I'm pretty sure martin believed jon was self harming and/or suicidal at this point, so I can see why he would be particularly willing to give jon slack and try to prevent any big conflicts, but that still contributes to his current narrative role of "guy who is treated the worst but ignores it because he's also the guy who cares the most." in that way, he's a foil for georgie; she cares, sure, but not enough to ignore (perceived) risks. martin pushes for jon to get therapy even as he lashes out and rejects help, and georgie won't involve herself when jon asks if she'd be willing to help him see a therapist.

this motif comes back around for a final complication in s5, when laverne, melanie's therapist, winds up as part of her cult. melanie's effort to get better and get out did have lasting effects, she is separated from the watcher/watched system and is coping a whole lot better than she would have before, but those personal efforts still weren't enough to fully get her out of the whole mess. no amount of individual action could remove her from this structural problem, her therapist helped her a lot but also now thinks she's a prophet.

which also comes back to the above scene. tim and martin both write off elias as useless in this situation, so they start sniping at each other and talking about how to stop jon from doing what he's doing without even really lingering on how the guy who is actually in charge and has power over them all is making it worse by neglecting his managerial duties. I'm sure jon could have done with some therapy at this point, but that would have only dealt with, like, 10% of the archive gang's current problems.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Yan! Alucard post season 4 with a targaryen reader and has dragons like daenerys from game of thrones or house of the dragon, how would they meet and interact? Would the first meet when the trio see the dragons flying over the village and think it is a threat or a attack, sorry if I'm ranting I just think the idea has so much potential and I can't write to save my life so I'm passing it to you❤️❤️

A/N: Okay so full disclosure, I’m not the hugest Game of Thrones fan, but I did watch a fair amount of the series (mainly for Khalessi lol, they did her so dirty in the finale!). And sorry for being MIA, just lots of real-life crap I’ve been dealing with. 

Yandere Alucard (Post S4) w/ a Targaryen Reader

When our Targaryen reader first hears of a village founded under a famous monster hunter's name, yet supposedly run by the Alucard operated out of Dracula’s castle, she decides she has to see it for herself. 

Much like Trevor Belmont, she is the last of her kind, the bloodline ends with her, and as such, the dragon(s) in her possession are her utmost responsibility. If she cannot find someone worthy of continuing the Targaryen line, then she will have to settle for her family’s legacy existing solely as one more relic in the Belmont hold. Without any remaining relatives to marry to keep her lineage pure, she sets atop her noble dragon steed and sets out for Village Belmont, determined to find a worthy successor, and if not, then at the very least, a worthy grave. 

When she first flies over the village, it is a cloudy day; her dragon’s looming shadow initially goes unnoticed. But soon enough her dragon’s large wingspan wafts the gray skies away, leaving her and her majestic beast very little coverage. 

At first sight of the beast, villagers cry and scream out, as they mistake her dragon companion for yet another wandering night creature, hellbent on eating their children and pillaging their livestock. 

They alert Greta, who arrives on the scene at the same time as Alucard, his heightened vampiric senses having heard the loud thwap, thwap of the dragon’s wingspan long before the villagers could see it. 

Greta organizes her troops to gather their weapons- pitchforks, swords, scythes- those sorts of things and stand ready at the entrance to the castle while at the same time, the less athletically inclined villagers are ushered inside to safety. 

As the Targaryen descends with her dragon, she gives clear instructions not to harm the humans gathered before her, even though the mob before them has their weapons drawn and ready. 

Descending from the sky, our Targaryen reader looks like a goddess, some sort of mythical queen, the elements of both wind and flame at her command. Alucard is immediately drawn to her, her presence, and her power. Although, he is weary of her as well. Too many have come to claim the power vacuum left by his father’s death, and he will not tolerate any vampires or supernatural beings staking a claim on his childhood home, his new village. Even if they are both insanely beautiful and a dragon rider. 

Sypha and Trevor make it outside by the time the young woman dismounts. As she does, she raises her hands in surrender. 

“I am not here to cause anyone harm. I am here to ask a great favor of the keepers of this Village Belmont.”

The trio approaches her, Greta staying behind, her army of villagers at the ready. 

She explains who she is, how special her bloodline is, and how she, the current mother of dragons, is the last of her kind. She speaks mainly to Trevor, as he is the last of the famed Belmonts which angers Alucad greatly, although he doesn't understand why. All he knows is a rather impudent voice inside his head insists that she should be talking to him! Not that stupid Trevor! After all, it’s his castle and his hold, Belmont gifted it to him for safekeeping! 

The young Targaryen asks Trevor if he would accept the privilege and the honor of keeping her dragon eggs safe deep within his hold until the time is right for them to be called upon. Of course, Alucard interrupts, saying that while dragon eggs would certainly be a first for the Belmont hold, he should like to examine them, as well as her and her dragon before making any commitments. 

There’s a tense moment. Behind her, her dragon’s nostrils flare as it heavily breathes out. It seems she doesn't like to be questioned, and neither does her rider. 

Alucard must be careful here. Yes, he’s smart and manipulative as a yandere but we are talking about a Targaryen here. Make no mistake, if he steps out of line enough, or causes her enough harm, he and his whole town will get barbequed. (Despite the threat, this incredible amount of power is one of the things about her Alucard finds the most sexy lol.)

I imagine the group forms a fragile allyship at first. The Targaryen teaches the villagers about her people and dragons. The orphaned children of course fall in love with her dragon, who to their credit, is very patient with them, but also lets them know when to back off with a shake of their large head or a deep growl from within their belly. She wants them to experience some bonding with the creature but she also doesn’t want them to grow too friendly and become complacent when encountering wild beasts outside of the village. Dragons are not to be trifled with, and should they encounter any one of them in the wild they are to react with wisdom, but more importantly fear. 

Alucard, of course, watches all of this very interestingly, in awe of the Targaryen reader's fortitude and dedication to her companion and her role as mother of dragons. In watching her interact with the children, he can’t help but feel a swell of pride, and a longing in his heart loins for her to perhaps bear his children so that they can become keepers of dragons too. 

He can't stop fantasizing about it, how perfect it would be, how incredible she would look housing their combined legacies. Their offspring would be unstoppable. With his vampiric abilities and her draconic bloodline… Not to mention his mother’s medicinal knowledge and Belmont’s collection knowledge within the Hold… By god, they could form an empire! One for creatures and humans alike, all who wish to live in peace and choose knowledge over ignorance. If only his mother and father could see him now…

Alucard knows though he must tread lightly. The Taregryn reader is smart and cunning. She did not come to be the last of her kind by being naive, no. She’s hardened, and she’s been through a great deal. She will need time to adjust to his affections. 

Alucard doesn’t mind though. He has all the time in the world. 

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I just remembered a project I worked on for a while in like 2021 (maybe 2020) and it had a LOT of akumatized marinette's

That was the idea behind the whole thing but man I did one by one and found some of the most obscure akumatized marinette au's

Sooooo I'm dragging these drawings up from the ashes and maybe it'll be a nice surprise for some of y'all to see

yall got ✨fanart✨

and possibly reminded of miraculous ladybug HA

usually these were done on different canvas's (that were like 250x250) and then just... copied onto a larger canvas??? Mistakes were made and I was insane

A handful of these akumanette's were actually made by me cause apparently... roughly 18 other marinette's wasn't enough

Click for quality and this is a long post

First of all, shoutouts to my own akuma abominations creations.

First image, the ladybug with the red long hair? yeah the idea was the akuma bug seen in canon in like, s2 (also shown next to her) but updated for the new look in s4. Vry original we'll give it a 6/10

I don't remember too much for the middle one that is slightly dimmer. Though I do remember that was the kind of IDEA behind her. She's also holding a knife cause of course. Why have magical powers to kill people when you can harness the power of K N I F E 7/10

I remember a little more about the jester marinette in the back. She had a whole thing with medieval research, jester research, and she also wanted to stab Lila cause everyone wanted to stab lila at the time. 9/10 cause I had a fun time with her

Then the robinhood poster mari was a robin hood akuma mari. 3/10 not original

NEXT

Slightly canon to downright canon

Ladyblanc was a popular akumanette idea so slightly canon, I didn't base it off of anyone's au

Ladybug and Marinette are there because what's the fun of a crossover if the og doesn't get to panic along with the rest of them????

Last image, not talking about persecuter, we'll get to her in a bit. I just thought it would be funny at the time if I included Chloe and Antibug cause... haha

Antibug is kinda an akumatized lb rip off soooo

OTHER'S AU'S

what you've been waiting for

Thank god I kept track of credit (pats past me on the back)

First of all, at the very front we got @zoe-oneesama 's devil au that made an updated appearance in her scarlet lady au, love to see it

You'll also notice little devil bug on lb's knee in the sketch

Alopeka is to the left of Devil au, by @piearsonist

hi betcha you never would have guessed you got FANARTED HA

This is a post that explains that akumatized marinette, and you'll find more if you go to her page

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND

Princess justice at the right by @kibouwmlb (also, hello hi, surprise) and honestly it is SUCH a pretty design OMYWORD I love the watercolors

Twiddling her thumbs, minding her business. Remember the release of Descendants 3? Yeah, Queen of Mean baby. And MORE by @shiinaeu hi you are a legend to me

This was so fun to draw at the time and I was experimenting in ways I hadn't before. Peak youtube miraculous ladybug fixation meeting art interest. First one of the characters I did fun fact

@edendaphne betcha you didn't expect fanart of that one scorpion akumanette well THINK AGAIN (also, crazy that this was around when I did your dtiys I just realized, huh)

ANd then slightly more obscure, though the post does have 173 ish notes so, is @skullqueensart 's akumanette right here

Why does akumanette have sunken cheeks here? I have no clue honestly. Take it up with me from 3 years ago and maybe you'll get answers who knows. She's also just... chilling. Looking at nothing. Into the abyss.

Not now chloe's, we are discussing persecutor now.

Love the story idea honestly and the akuma design is so god tier AKUMA that oof @yiprincessart I love it

Oh uh, and chloe will be fine

:)

CAN👏I👏 TALK👏 ABOUT👏 HER

She is the moment, she is beauty, she is grace

@artist-from-outersp-ace I love her. She looks so SO pretty!! At the time I loved your artstyle and I still do!! Too bad at the time I didn't know that Tumblr works by reblogging. I will be amending that.

I also remember being SO frustrated when drawing her that I didn't get a timelapse saved in time to show the drawing process :(

But I did love figuring out folds in the dress and the coloring process! Figuring out how to replicate elements in your art!

srs guys. Look at the RUFFLES

Alright, we are all agreeing to be accomplices and bystanders to Akuma jester marinette's NOT MURDER murder of Lila in the background? Okay good.

@lunian I have fanart for you~

And when I tell you I struggled with her design, I STRUGGLED. I ended up satisfied in the end but the curls bro, we lost the curls

But I do love her concepts and powers and I did back then too

And next to her, Okay, I never fully finished, mostly because I couldn't figure out how to get the hand to work with the tray balance thingie

@ladybub made this Lady Justice design and I WILL BE THERE when the comic updates. Or... if they aren't able to continue the comic that's also fine too <3 Life happens

Still love this au and the unique way for Marinette to get akumatized! Me and my sister bonded over our love over it!

I think this might be the first akumanette that isn't on tumblr to my knowledge. They are on Instagram tho @stivenwithani

Anyway I really liked the concept and the design just, reeked, of akuma that I included her

Okay more that I didn't really finish

We got another Princess/Lady Justice akuma idea at the left. Which I never kept track of the credit DANG IT I WAS DOING SO WELL

I'll update if I find the credit but man the OG did really well with the art.

And I have this akumanette comforting Lacrima from... a very graphic and whump fanfic Longest Night, read the tags

Anyway, Lacrima needs all the love she can get (also, funny enough, is the oldest out of this "gathering" of akumanette's)

It's not finished but hey @p-artsypants I gave angst ridden Lady Lacrima friends and fanart so.... yay...

AND THEN THE LAST ONE

was victim to so much reposting I could never find credit for it- UNTIL NOW

but the artist unfortunately deactivated their blog so that explains why I couldn't find their username all that time ago

It was a cool idea and I always love when creators take inspiration from how similar Marinette's name is to another word for a kind of puppet "Marionette"

But before I forget, I'll end this post on one of my akumanette's that I tried to squeeze in but never got to. But I did make more art for and I remember the story!

I remember having a background planned but I never really got around to it. Basically the story was that marinette got akumatized but managed to take off her earrings in time. I think the reason for her akumatization was connected to figuring out the secrets that Emilie had been hiding with the peacock miraculous (BEFORE we knew that adrien was a sentimonster).

Tikki had to bring the earrings to Chat Noir and he had to find someone that looked ENOUGH like Ladybug that Hawkmoth wouldn't notice as much that Ladybug wasn't actually there. Enter Mireille cause at the time a few people were pointing out how similar she looked to the dupain chengs.

Akumanette's powers had something to do with casting depression? I think? In the form of dragons? Oh, Also she travels by walking on the dragons so thats cool

I don't remember everything but I did have a lot planned for her.

10/10 just because I had a fun time with her

[autisticandroids]

belated fic rec list, part two: seasons four and five

so! this is for day 1 of @spnficrecfest (you will notice that that was yesterday two days ago. uh huh). and i am compensating by creating FIVE SEPARATE ERA-SPECIFIC LISTS. this one is for season four and five fics. i'm putting four and five together because i feel like the vibes are often similar for four and five fics. it constitutes its own distinct era, discrete from season six. mainly destiel, with some other pairings or gen as well.

other lists: endverse // season six // season nine // dabb era

my fave s4/5 fics, in increasing order of length

the mirror (orphaned fic), .5k

cas and jimmy at the end of things. casjimmy.

the fruit of knowledge by omegavers, 1k, noncon warning

cas rescues dean from hell. :3. destiel.

rebirth by anandroidinatutu, 1k, chose not to warn

dean comes back from hell. destiel with transfem dean.

super silence in the quiet by thequietwings, 1k

sastiel with unrequited destiel and samifer. immaculate season five vibes.

a watcher, a holy one, by vaguesurprise, 1k, chose not to warn

the song remains the same. annamary voyeurism, and then more. if this one tickles your fancy i would also recommend the ghost in the back of your head (orphaned fic).

goshen's remains by redeyedwrath, 2k

castiel creature of light and burning, and it wants. destiel.

the reality of the thing seen by smilla, 3k, violence warning

dean has strange dreams after my bloody valentine. gen.

bad education by haganenomorals, 3k, mcd and violence warning

cas and dean cope in the aftermath of a version of swan song where cas couldn't swwop in and fix things afterwards. wip but worth it; feels more like a oneshot that stands on its own.

close enough for rock n roll by amor remanet, 4k

a post-swan song destiel romp, featuring angels, reluctant domesticity, and mpreg.

all souls and angels by misslucyjane, 5k

destiel fic so old that the author didn't know about jimmy novak yet. cas learns about taking care of his body.

red motel reprised by vaguesurprise, 5k

samruby and dreams.

we who were living by anactoria, 5k, mcd warning

the aftermath of a season five apocalypse that did, actually, happen. destiel.

a hole in the world by bauble, 6k, chose not to warn

dean says yes. it's up to cas now. destiel.

brother mine by diaryofageekgirl, 8k

character exploration for uriel, feat. angel worldbuilding. gen.

the (mostly accidental) courtship of dean winchester by tuesday, 11k

broadly i tried to stick to less well known works for this list, but some things are classics for a reason. destiel. cas informs dean that they are 90% of the way to married. he has not previously mentioned this.

right of conquest by luchia, 14k

a very different vision for lucifer and the apocalypse, written before season five aired. destiel.

heart of glass by omphalos, 17k

destiel. an odd one. lots of dean-cas sniping. crowley is there. has a very of-its-time feel.

no birds or beasts does he eat (he only wants the tenderest meat) by mthrfkrgdhrwego, 18k, violence warning

a my bloody valentine remix. with crazy destiel gore sex.

an unclean man who went down to immerse himself: by 52ndstreet, 22k

cas and jimmy before the possession. what if it went way further than the pasta water. gen.

hesitation by apokteino, 24k, noncon warning

yeah yeah yeah it's apokteino everybody's read apokteino NO THEY HAVE NOT. everybody has read with understanding. hesitation is a WILDLY underappreciated element of the apokteino canon. season four destiel romance with some key misunderstandings.

oneiroi by rc_mclachlan, 54k

cas adventures in the realm of dreams. another fandom classic, but still deserving of a rec.

four rings and a one man apocalypse by funnywings, 57k, chose not to warn

dean uses the horsemen's rings to mess with cas' emotions. cas lets him. destiel.

[raayllum]

I've thought about Terry and Rayla parallels before ("I think too much, get confused about the right thing to do" / "says I think too much about everything" / elves supporting their mages / Rayla leaving as love vs Terry refusing to leave as love / lovingly watching your partner sleep, etc etc). Even the way they can sometimes enable Callum and Claudia's actions.

This is more true, of course, in Terry's case than Rayla's, but in a similar vein that their bonds of love are unbreakable (look at Rayla and Runaan) and that it would take a LOT for Rayla to ever even consider maybe that Callum could make a Seriously Bad Decision (she got straight up told he had a heart full of darkness and went "you're the best/goodest person I know" + the idea of Callum being controlled by Aaravos in a bad way being unfathomable to her in S4).

However what I want to talk about today is their attitudes towards dark magic.

Part of why Terry loves Claudia, I think, is that he doesn't see anything 'wrong' with dark magic. He's seen her do "a lot of awful things, dark magic things" but dark magic to him is also useful and fine and has a tingly aftertaste. It's not a hangup for him with Viren or Claudia; all he see is that she has a Good Reason, and that's all he needs, because there's no moral wedge in the way to begin with.

That doesn't mean he has zero discomfort with dark magic ("You think if dark magic did this to someone, they might not do it") or Claudia's actions ("The way you treated that Moonshadow elf, it was just cruel" / "Please, Claudia, you don't have to do this, it's trapped, you won").

But even Sir Sparklepuff's murder gets couched under "had a good reason" because it did bring Viren back, which Terry happily joyously celebrated when it happened. With all that in mind, Terry has always reminded me of Ethari — you fell in love with someone who engages in "dark work, bloody work" (Lost Child) and you knew what it would involve, and love them regardless. That's not a choice or mindset that's easily broken, but it does lead to Terry's lack of assertiveness fucking him up in ways that Claudia's passivity can too ("Please Terry, tell me what to do" / "[to Aaravos] Tell me what to do").

Terry's lack of moral qualms with dark magic is clearest to me in 6x04 in some ways, because of this exchange with Claudia:

C: All I see is parts, for spells. T: But...? C: But it's so adorable!

His but being an 'okay but WHY is this a problem for you now?' not 'yeah Sounds Concerning (and like a red flag) jc'. Claudia says she's all messed up inside, but Terry (for whatever reason) can't fully conceptualize what she means. This also leads to him not truly understanding what it is and what it's doing to his partner (probably because he met her when she was already more than mid-spiral) because if Terry fully understood how it was hurting her...

Don't you think he'd tell her to stop?

Meanwhile, even though Rayla does have moral qualms with dark magic, she doesn't focus on any of them in her argument with Callum just an episode earlier. Instead, it's all about him and the risk it poses to him and his emotions.

But most importantly because it makes you more vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of.

Not "well Aaravos could control you and that'd be bad for everyone else / the world" but that it scares him, it hurts him, it puts him in danger. Granted, she still switches to the greater good concern later both for mitigating the harm Callum might do ("If you ever have to choose between me or the greater good, do the right thing: make the sacrifice") and on her own end ("Yes. I promise [to kill you]" + "taught me to never break my promises") but that's not her primary concern, at least not in my head.

And it's precisely because of those reasons that Rayla tells him very overtly what to do, both in regards to sacrificing her and in regards to saving him:

Rayla has unbreakable bonds of love, too, nor are her moral qualms about dark magic why she's making this point. It's because her main drive has always been to protect Callum, not even necessarily to help him, and therefore his safety is at the top of her list, so if something hurts or puts him in danger, she's going to tell him to knock it off. (And that includes saving her, but anyway.) Their mutual assertiveness with one another is one of the reasons why Rayla and Callum work, and one of the reasons Terry and Claudia were going to crash and burn, because Callum is likewise Rayla's anchor, and Terry and Claudia didn't realize they needed to be each other's until it was too late

I risked losing the best thing I ever had: you.

[surelysilly]

i love your King Of Hell Danny (superphantom) au and i would greatly (very much) appreciate it if you could talk more about it (King Of Hell Danny) i love his (danny) smug cat energy (smug) in all of your drawing for it (hell is under New Management)

i hope you're ready for this some rambling but ask and you shall receive!!! yes i waited to post this for superphantom week i gotta shill for my own event, y'know :9

So. You want to know more about King of Hell Danny, is it?

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

Well. Well. He's certainly Danny. Or more specifically I've decided as of recent, Dark Danny. I'm waffling on whether he's Dan Dark Danny or just... Phantom sans Plasimus. The latter feels less likely as i try to flesh him out, but you never know with these guys... he does prefer to look like his 14 yr old self though.

But whatever version he is of himself... it's post-TUE, and he hates himself more than anyone is allowed to know.

Not sure exactly how he ended up in the SPNverse (portal probably!), but he'd definitely prefer going back to his own world/dimension in a heavily buried sense of self-flagellation and unreliable narrator-ness.

Everyone is waiting for him there, not here, wherever he is exactly. This implies anyone is left alive, but he never said that. People (Crowley, etc.) just assume so.

and he's the worst lil jerk you could ever meet, at a first, second, and third, glance, anyway.

Smug cat, indeed. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, and taking over Hell felt right. (isn't that where he'd go? he thinks, after learning Hell is actually real.)

he's overpowered for sure, but it also comes from a misconception for what he is. Not a demon, not human, a secret Third Thing: weird ghost.

i like to think most regular ghost counter measures work on him, but no one thinks to try them because that ain't no ghost??? He plays the part really well though, pretending to be a demon (and gets mislabelled a crossroads demon for his red eyes) -- it doesn't bother him to kill people, but he doesn't go out of his way to do it anymore.

KOH!Danny having it out for the Winchesters is a very thoughtless and fun thing, and it would piss him off when they try to summon Crowley, but in all actuality, he'd probably end up begrudgingly working with them or something.

And ultimately betray them.

I also think his goal would be to fuse with Lucifer when he's freed from the Cage. That should give him enough power to bust a hole back to his OG dimension, right?

maybe. Who knows.

You can certainly find him at DIY skateparks across the globe. He's an asshole to anyone and everyone, but god have mercy on anyone looking to cause trouble while he's trying to have a good time (he feels guilty about it, though, having fun -- it's a circle of shame/guilt/fuck it we ball mentality, here for a good time not a long time).

he can 'see' Castiel's wings and if in his presense, will pluck at them because he's annoying like that.

Crowley became his lap dog though, regardless of intial beheadings because... Hell generates a lot of paperwork the way Crowley was running it, and KOH!Danny don't got the time for all of that.

eventually I'm sure someone will figure him out, ghost weaknesses and all, but it's not 1:1 SPNverse ghost: no bones to burn, no records of him being alive ever, etc., but he's definitely solid enough.

i could see a later quest like what the Winchesters did to find Crowley's remains, but they'd spiral down a hole of "where hell did this creature even come from???" and the Men of Letters/Angels/anyone wouldn't know jack about what he even is exactly.

i'm so rusty on SPN though... but those are my cobbled together ideas. I'd place him mid-ish seasons Supernatural (because ive only really seen s4 thru s8...) but i think the 'hijinks' of later seasons could be fun with the seriousness of early, early seasons sprinked in!

[herejusttosufferalong]

My delulu is intensifying. I'm starting to think that the theory of L catching feelings super early, like even when he first met N, is clicking for me. How he remembers meeting her for the first time in such detail. I just think the wheels were starting to turn even back then. Do I think he was consciously aware of it? Probably not. Do I think he ever vocalised it to N? Hell no. Do I think feelings intensified once he was announced as lead for S3? Absolutely. And got near breaking point during filming? Yes, indeed.

The whole unliking J's posts from a very specific time-point is interesting. Some of you have mentioned that maybe something changed for him at that time, which just so happens to coincide with finding out he was going to lead S3 with N. Very close to the time of that cute N and L photo, looking very cosy. They were probably spending A LOT more time together, planning and discussing. Becoming closer. I imagine N would have been super professional about it. However, I think things shifted when they started filming.

May I present Exhibit A. I was watching this video last night (the YouTuber is fantastic, love her work):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxSZShhh45k&ab_channel=SammyBates

First of all, this kiss is IMHO the best kiss I've ever seen. It literally had it all. I fixated on her comments at 16:45 re. L's lower lip trembling/quivering in the kiss. An involuntary, uncontrollable response. I had noticed it before, but never properly contemplated what it actually means. My scientific investigation began... Googles "lip trembling during kiss". Unfortunately, not very fruitful information, talking about possibly having a potassium deficiency or other medical conditions (lol). No google, not random lip twitching! I'm talking about trembling DURING a kiss. Eventually I did find an answer on the 'girls ask guys' page (reputable, of course). Generally the responses went something like this, "definitely a sign of emotion or fighting to control himself. My bf does this when we're kissing slowly then usually becomes more aggressive soon after (losing control a little)". Becoming so overcome with emotion and trying very hard to reign it in... Hmm ok? And this is involuntary, you say, like it cannot be faked or 'acted'? So two possible options. The method acting was methoding and he really felt the love to his core as Colin for Pen OR well... we all know the other option.

Now, looking back at the BTS, I don't think either of them were really method acting. They were easily coming in and out of character between scenes, and you could see the differentiation between the character and the actor. Although, the intimate behaviours were not really stopping lol. I've noticed other involuntary responses from N as well looking at the BTS, like gulping when he touches her face while practicing the dance scenes. I would hazard a guess there was real fire there. But as many have also said, the lines were blurry and they probably were pinning the feelings down to their characters, and the high emotion surrounding leading such a big production. Dismiss those feelings.

Take time apart, and come back, and guess what? The feelings are still there but they're not playing Polin. Avoid, reject internally, become defensive? Give in possibly? Emotionally? Physically? Not sure. But either way, I believe walls were built back up for reasons we can probably deduce. The timing just ain't right.

Now I guess we wait and see what happens during S4 filming.

#hardcoredelulu

💜🥃

[chirpsythismorning]

I just realized that in s5, instead of a parallel to Mike breaking down with Hopper and just doing that again, I want one with Mike and Jonathan.

Something interesting about Jonathan is that he tends to be pretty quiet in situations where literally everyone is being critical of Mike, notably in the scene at Hopper’s canon when he blurts out that he loves El. That whole scene everyone is ganging up on him, most notably Nancy, but the whole time Jonathan is just staring at Mike, deep in thought…

We also know he witnessed A LOT in s4 in regards to Will and just the whole truth of the situation might be closer to him then we realize. Like for example, even though we didn’t see Mike’s expression in the van scene after the painting reveal, with it being blurred from our view, Jonathan on the other hand did see it. He also was there for that and the monologue at SB where he basically just used Will’s words to try to save El. And so what does Jonathan think about that?…

While I know the expectation for a lot of fans is that Jonathan like hates Mike bc of him hurting Will as of the last year or so on a couple notable occasions (now El too presumably), I think there is still something complex about their relationship that would make for a pretty epic television.

Not saying the scene couldn’t start out with some clashing and stuff, bc I mean after all the literal same thing happens with Hopper and Mike in s2. The scene starts confrontational and emotional only for Mike to start sobbing and literally fall into Hopper’s arms for comfort. Even in the following scene he chooses to stay close to Hopper’s side, like it’s clear his outburst had less to do with Hopper ‘lying’ and more to do with all of his bottled emotions coming to head in that moment. And in the company of a man that he looks up to, who is basically seeing him at his lowest.

And I think Jonathan and him having a moment like this, in their own way, maybe related to El again like the talk with Hopper, but I think it ending with it being about Will and Mike breaking down again, maybe thinking Jonathan hates him and then turning it on himself like no one hates me more than I hate myself for how I feel. Or just him basically getting emotional over a similar situation to s2, but us basically getting the Will side of it this time, which would essentially re-contextualize the s2 scene as well.

Another reason I think this scene would be incredible honestly, is because Finn very clearly looks up to Charlie, with him literally following him around on set and you can just tell they have a very close bond that would make for incredible chemistry on screen as Jonathan just like Hopper (arguably even more so), is in this male position of someone that Mike looks up to, who also knows sides of him that quite frankly no one does, it has the ability to be a really emotional and gratifying moment.

Maybe Jonathan is being a little bit curt with Mike and it leads to an argument of some sort. Though it ends with something along the lines of Mike just breaking down and Jonathan comforting him like I never hated you Mike and him just holding him and them talking about their true feelings about the situation.

Mike’s never gonna get that sort of deep and emotional bond with his father, so it feels almost poetic that he’d have these moments with the two men in Will’s life who’ve also had a huge impact on Mike’s life as well and who he will be tethered to forever as family bc of his relationship with Will.

I need it and I need it yesterday.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

just thinking about how in early season 5, when Wilson is gone and House tries to hit up this other doctor at the cafeteria to become his new best friend - and that guy is like "you know I'm not gay, right?"

-now, unless that dude started working there yesterday, he definitely knows about the events of the s4 season finale, Wilson leaving etc. And we can fairly assume he's not new, considering that House actually learnt and remembered his name at some point. He also very likely knows Wilson's reputation as the only person in the hospital who is really genuinely close to House, and in vague terms probably also stuff like the fact that they always have lunch together etc (we know other characters know those things about them) and likely also the other stuff, like the great big prescription drama from season 3 etc etc etc.

So with the cues House gives him and questions he asks (Monstertrucks, drugs, watching soaps with him - stuff that he famously does a lot with Wilson, even around the hospital) as well as the timing (now that Wilson has left, the resident diagnostics cryptid starts talking to you???) etc, it is actually really obvious that House is trying to find a "substitute" for Wilson.

So where I'm going with this is - when he tells House that he's not gay, odds are, that's not coming from a place of "oh, this random guy sat down at lunch with me and started asking me a bunch of personal questions so he might be into me" - odds are, he's saying it specifically from a place of "This is House trying to find a "new" Wilson (so I better tell him I'm not into men) which means his underlying assumption about House and Wilson is that-"