#the perils of being an older fan

[emeritusemeritus]

Haunted [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: Haunted.

Pairing: Eddie MunsonxReader {Acquaintances to lovers?}

Timeline: Set around S4 (no vecna)

Summary: Eddie sees his dream girl once day at the record store, but will he ever be able to find her again?

Warnings: Minor swearing, Eddie’s a little clueless and a little dismissive for a while. A bit of sexism and mentions of stereotypes. Brief mentions of drugs (it’s Eddie). ‘Un-named freak’ is called Ritchie in this story. Use of y/n. POV changes towards the end. Not Beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 3.4K

Eddie Munson had always considered himself particularly unlucky in life, wether it be the family he was born in to, the hand he'd be dealt in life or the way he was so often misunderstood by every outsider. But he'd never considered himself cursed, nor haunted; at least not until the 8th of March, 1896.

It was a Saturday, as boring an uneventful as they come, a little drizzly but mild and completely, mind numbingly boring. He'd done a deal earlier that morning and had decided to spend a little of his fresh earnings, hoping the record store would have something new to catch his eye. The Vault was an old independent record store downtown that had suffered greatly during the Starcourt Mall's rule, with RadioShack and Sam Goody's drawing in most of the younger crowds that left business scarce but the older generation, collectors and music fans that favoured minority categories or alternative sounds always found a home at the Vault, such as Eddie Munson. He'd been waiting a week for the Vault to receive a shipment of the new Metallica album Master of Puppets, though Rob the owner had assured him it would be in by Saturday, nearly five days late after the release. Eddie's hands were itching to get hold of a copy after being pumped by the debut album of King Diamond only a month before, but he was more than ready for something new.

He'd planned to meet Gareth at the store downtown and was waiting out by his van, stood leaning against the hood to smoke a joint when he spotted something entirely unheard of for Hawkins.

A girl, dressed in black high waisted pants that were ripped at the knees and a band shirt that looked eerily familiar to him. It was a Judas Priest 'Defenders of the faith' shirt, identifiable by the distinctive red and blue album logo on the front of the shirt, along with the white priest logo on her chest. She had a chain attached to her belt and chunky black boots just incase the shirt wasn't impactful enough.

She was beautiful, her hair flowing down her back with shaggy bangs and some shit around her eyes Eddie didn't understand that made them look sexy as hell. He was floored, frozen and almost drooling as he watched her walk across the sidewalk towards the record store. He cursed Gareth for being late, making a mental note to put his character in mortal peril during his next campaign and felt himself almost drifting across the road to get a chance to talk to her, but stopped himself at the last minute. He thought of how he could 'accidentally' bump into her, no doubt around the metal/ hard rock section of the record store and strike up a conversation but he couldn't think of a single way to make it seem authentic, or to talk about.

He swore out loud when he saw her walk out only a few minutes later with a smile on her face that he was certain would be etched into his memory forever. He was certain he'd never seen her before, a hot chick that was into metal in Hawkins? No way.

If he wasn't already head over heels for the mystery girl already, he was smitten as soon as she pulled away, the distinctive sounds of Metallica blasting through her speakers, the speedy trash metal echoing through her black car and out into the streets of Hawkins getting quieter and quieter as she drives away.

From that moment, he looked everywhere for her at school, around Hawkins but he could never spot her.

"Gotta shoot, got business," he says, standing suddenly and closing his metal 'lunch box' with a reasoning clunk. He hot tails it out of the school cafeteria and begins making his way across the lot, down his regular route towards the tree line when a noise stops him.

Master of Puppets.

He'd know that riff anywhere, he'd been trying to learn it for days now after finally getting a copy from Rob at the vault. His head shoots up like a meerkat on a hill, scrutinising the cars and the bodies littered about the lot to catch a glimpse of you but he's too late. He sees your black car pulling out the lot and onto the dirt road between the schools and drops his head in defeat. How could he have missed you? He'd spent days searching for you, keeping his eyes focused on the people around him, looking for any sign of you. He'd visited family video more times than he ever had in the past incase you'd decided to venture out there, even asking Buckey and Harrington in a round about way wether he'd seen 'the new chick in town'. He'd downplayed it obviously, he wasn't about to start competing with Harrington so he just mentioned you in passing, not mentioning your appearance at all. They'd seen nothing.

Then Henderson barrelled in one day about this new girl he'd been talking to, apparently she was super cool, asked him about his shirt, d&d and had completely outed herself as a nerd, quoting Star Wars back to him. Eddie had felt hope rise up in his chest but his interest quickly faded when Henderson described the girl wearing a pink and white dress with a white long sleeved shirt underneath, definitely not the girl Eddie had been looking for.

It was a game of cat and mouse, though Eddie was definitely losing the game.

Eddie was perplexed, distracted; even more so than usual. So when a figure appeared beside him at the end of Click's Friday morning history class, during which he'd spent the entire time staring off into the distance through the window and not writing a single note, not even pulling out a scrap of paper nor a pen, he jumped out of his skin at the sudden interaction.

"Hi, you're Eddie right?" The girl says a little shyly, drawing his attention away from the window, though he hardly looks up at the new customer.

"£20 for a half ounce bag, I don't sell single joints right now," he says absently and quietly, reaching down for his lunchbox, "Picnic bench out in the clearing at lunch."

"Oh, no, I wasn't," she begins to say, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know what, never mind."

He watches as the girl walks away, reaching for her backpack and shoving in the notebook she was holding. His eyes follow her as she pushes her backpack over one shoulder and walks out of the class without sparing him a final look.

He stews on the stranger interaction until lunch when he gets distracted by the guys arguing over the new girl Henderson had mentioned earlier than week.

"She came right out and quoted A New Hope like it was nothing, I'm telling you she's a secret nerd,"Jeff says, picking at his lunch.

"Like how?" Mike says, half paying attention.

"I asked her how she liked it in Hawkins and where she was from before and she said, and I quote, 'Mos Eisley space port but worse'".

"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious," Dustin mimics, doing his best Obi-Wan impression, earning a snort from Gareth and a rare smile from Ritchie.

"I'm telling you, she's a total nerd," Jeff smirks, taking a bite of his cafeteria pizza.

"A hot nerd," Gareth adds, earning a nod from Jeff and Ritchie.

"You know she asked me about D&D, maybe we could invite her along for a taster, Eddie?" Dustin says, each of them turning to their leader who was barely paying attention.

"Eddie?" Gareth repeats, finally getting through to Eddie.

"Huh? Oh yeah whatever," Eddie says, clearly having not paid any attention to the conversation happening around him. The group look at each other with various levels of concerned expressions and confusion, wondering where the stood on inviting the new girl.

Dustin, never one to follow the rules, decides to step up and invite the new girl anyway, taking a giant leap that Eddie had technically agreed to it. He catches her between classes and invites her to tonight's campaign, telling her that she wouldn't be able to actually play until she was formally enrolled and created a character sheet but she could watch. To his relief, she agreed with a warm smile and eager nod, making his own smile beam across his face.

"Drama room after school, don't be late, he hates that!"

"Who's this?" Eddie says, when Dustin, Lucas and new girl walk in, spotting the intruder from his place in the throne. It was the same girl from class that had walked up to him without a reason.

"Y/n," Dustin answers casually, walking away and taking his regular seat. "You said she could sit in."

"Did I? Henderson?" Eddie's tone is clipped and his eyes pierce Dustin in a harsh way, not that he notices.

"It's okay, I can go," she says awkwardly from her spot, feeling the weight of rejection settling in. Everyone else had been so friendly but Eddie seemed to want nothing to do with her.

"Nah stay," Eddie says, finally looking in her direction and acknowledging her as a person. She smiles briefly and nods, though it's somewhat forced, still feeling painfully awkward to be where she clearly wasn't wanted. "You sitting down? Just don't interrupt and no questions for now."

"Ok, be straight with me," Eddie says at the end of the session, having told her to stick around afterwards until it was just the two of them. He'd caught sight of her multiple times during the game when she would cheer along with the guys, looked tense in the pets where he lingered for tension and had followed the brief rules he'd laid down dutifully, causing no issues at all. "What's a girl like you want to do with D&D?"

"Girl like me?" She challenges, her right eyebrow raised at the implications of his words.

"Yanno," he says, throwing the last of the equipment into his cardboard box he used to lug the stuff back and forth, "you don't seem the type to be into D&D." He thought of record store girl once again, she would definitely be into d&d, or at least he could convince her to be.

She catches him looking at her cream coloured sweater and blue jeans, his eyes clearly looking at her outfit as to make a point.

"So what, you think there's an angle here? A regular girl can't have an interest in something that isn't Madonna or nail polish? You really have such a low opinion of women?"

"No," he says quickly, turning around to face her as he senses her clipped tone, only to be met with a smirk tugging at the side of her lips and eyebrow still raised. She was goading him.

"Just saying, it's a little unheard of," he says, much more meekly now. He watches as she simply shrugs, offering nothing back.

"I like what I like and I'm not gonna change that for anyone," she says with another shrug, unknowingly earning a multitude of respect from Eddie as he watches her speak. She really was pretty. "Just because I don't think Tom Cruise is the hottest man on the planet and Bananarama didn't change my life doesn't mean I'm not normal, and because I like D&D and shitty horror films I'm not girly enough for society's dumb labels."

She watches as Eddie's smirk forms on his face slowly, his hand extending towards her, "welcome to Hellfire."

It's Wednesday afternoon and the bell has just rang signalling the end of the school day when Eddie waits out by his van, smoking a cigarette and waiting for y/n. They were drawing up her character sheet that night ready for her induction to the club during the next campaign, though she'd have to sit the current one out as they were already more than halfway through. Eddie had nipped back to his trailer to pick up a few of his manuals and spare sheets ready for them to draw up her character and she'd offered for them to go to her house after school to work on it.

Eddie discovered that she was actually pretty cool, as she's started sitting with them at lunch and opening up to the conversations around her. She'd spouted an incredible knowledge of Star Wars a couple of times and had even interjected when Jeff had misspoken about something from The fellowship of the ring, blowing Eddie's mind. He hadn't really looked at her until that night at Hellfire but ever since he'd found himself unable to look away. She was gorgeous, even in her little pink sweaters and fashionable dresses. Though he felt conflicted because as much as he liked y/n, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl at the record store, his dream woman.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, couldn't get away from Robin," she said with a smile, appearing in front of the van by Eddie's side.

"Sure you're good with us going to yours? Your mom won't like totally freak out?" Eddie says with a smirk, crushing his cigarette under his sneakers. The girl huffs out a laugh, ignoring Eddie's claims and pulls open the passenger door before climbing in, wordlessly telling him it would be fine.

"Dad? You home?" She shouts as they walk through the door to her home, having ignored Eddie's compromise of parking a little back from her house, knowing the usual protocol. She's ignored him entirely and told him to park on the drive before flashing him a smile and climbing out.

There's no reply from within the house and Eddie relaxes slightly, glad he wouldn't have to face a set of disgruntled parents that inevitably thought he was corrupting their sweet daughter, pink skirt and all.

"You want a drink?" She asks, guiding him into the kitchen. "Coke, beer, Mountain Dew? Oh crap I left my shit upstairs, you wanna do it there?"

Seeing Eddie's slightly startled look, she burst out laughing, realising what she'd said. "I meant the character sheets Munson."

"Oh yeah, yeah," he says, slightly tapping his foot and letting out a laugh that sounds inauthentic even to his own ears. He didn't know what was happening to him. Sure she was pretty, more than pretty but being alone with her like this made him almost painfully nervous.

"Gonna stand there all night?" She quips, noticing him stood exactly where she'd left him after making her way to the stairs. He suddenly catches on and follows her, nervously clutching his cold can of coke and ascending the plain white staircase, mentally cursing himself to get a grip.

He hadn't been in a girls bedroom before, he felt a little weird about it. Would it be cute and flowery? Stuffies and dolls littering the place? His room was a self-proclaimed disaster with more clutter than he could deal with, messy and a little dingy, but it did the job.

"Holy fuck," he says as he steps into the room, following you absently through the wooden doorway as your room comes into view.

Posters of various bands line the walls, ticket stubs and little trinkets dotted around, noticing guitar picks tacked onto the wall near the stubs. There's an honest to god ramskull on the wall above the bed and your vinyl and tape collection is seriously impressive. There's a Jaws poster one side and a similarly impressive book collection near a wooden desk near where you stood. There's a black acoustic guitar on a stand near your closet and an array of black shirts on a shelf nearby.

But then he spots it, a Judas Priest shirt thrown over the chair near the desk- the defenders of the faith shirt that he'd seen his dream woman wearing outside the vault. His eyes flick up to a Judas priest poster on the wall, a creased and slightly ratted up poster that illustrates the show as Madison Square Garden , June 18th 1984- the same one as what was on your shirt.

"You're hot girl?" Eddie turns around, mouth agape and wide eyes roaming across your body.

"What?" You say completely confused at his reaction, thinking nothing of it as you stepped over to your desk to gather the mock character sheets you'd been working on to show him.

"You were at the Vault last week? You got Master of Puppets?" He says frantically, stepping towards you.

"You've been stalking me?" You say curiously, watching him have a mini freak out.

"That was you? But you had ripped jeans and the boots," he rambles, unable to piece the parts together of his own mental puzzle.

Suddenly, you laugh and realise what's happening. You walk over to your closet and pull open the doors, noticing Eddie was watching your every move.

"These?" You ask, pulling out your black Doc Martens, the platform style you'd been wearing when you visited the record store.

"Holy shit, holy shit," Eddie says, staring at the boots that had been imprinted into his mind since he'd seen you last time as he falls back to sit on your bed. "But."

"The clothes?" You say with a smile, understanding why he was so confused. He nods gently, looking around the room still with a moderate sense of confusion, before his eyes fall to you again. You smile and take a seat beside him on the bed, trying not to confuse him more.

"When we moved from New York, mom thought it would be best if I tried to blend in, said that small towns like these don't accept people like us very much. Dad gets away with it because of his job but even my mom started fancying her self up a little more, putting on a show I guess so the small town folk wouldn't gossip," you explain. "So she went out and bought these monstrosities," you say gesturing to the cream coloured sweater you wore. "Only thing is that it's Indiana and it's hot as balls, which sucks when you can't show your arms."

"Wh-." Eddie begins to question but you already anticipate this and begin to pull off your sweater, thankful you were wearing a black tank top underneath.

Eddie's mouth falls open even wider, his eyes bulging as he looks upon your revealed skin, seeing the tattoos that litter your arms, intricate designs and art flowing across your body.

"That explain it?" You say with a gentle laugh. His face is a picture and you wished that you could have taken a photo to keep the memory forever. You reach up to your hair and pull away the clips holding in your bangs and pull down your scrunchie, throwing it across the room before tussling your hair to fall back in place.

It really was you, his dream girl.

"That day, in Click's class," he says, piecing more of the puzzle together.

"I wanted to ask you about Hellfire," you reply, looking up from under your lashes at him, now that his face had returned to normal and mouth no longer agape.

"I was a dick," he says guiltily, his brows pulling together slightly.

"Eh," you shrug, "you weren't to know."

"I judged you like an idiot, when all this time you've been right here under my nose."

He leans in slowly, and you follow his direction until your lips are touching. It’s soft and sweet and absolutely perfect as you feel his soft lips against yours, a playfulness and a shyness to the kiss.

It falls silent for a few moments after you pull apart with shy smiles, but it's not uncomfortable in any way.

"You really saw Priest in '84?" He asks, looking between the shirt and the poster on the wall. You laugh, throwing yourself on the bed to get comfy, pleased that he was feeling more comfortable now as he follows you down to lie beside you on the bed, character sheets forgotten beside you.

"Yeah at the Garden, you know they got banned for life after the show? It was crazy, everyone was ripping up the seats! Very metal."

“Very metal.”

Taglist requests

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@nerdymesss

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

@xslashers

@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

@moon-2424

@chx-la

@malenk

@jimmywoosimp

@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@brookiecookiez0

@nightowlgirl

@fiathefirst

@rybrewer82-blog

@cryb4by-te4rs

@rainingsky37

@ali-r3n

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 12 -- WHEN ONLY FRIENDS GOT 2GETHER-ED

TRIGGER WARNING: EVERYONE'S UP FOR CRITICISM HERE, JOJO AND TEAM, FORCEBOOK, FIRSTKHAO, ALL OF THEM. Read at your peril.

Well. Big deep breaths. I spent a lot of time on a show that had been marketed as not-a-BL, that ended as a BL. As a mom with not that much time to spend on watching and writing on dramas that were marketed incorrectly, I am feeling some kinda way (fucking pissed off).

So many people had amazing takes yesterday, on both sides of the aisle, regarding how the show ended (pro-ending here, anti-ending here, here, here, here, here, and here, and my dear friends @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan did heavy lifting on reblogs yesterday, so stroll on over to their blogs for more).

I want to set up a constellation of points to touch upon before I get into the meat of this post.

1) I referred quite a bit to my review of Theory of Love throughout my watch of Only Friends. In that review, I meditate on how the majority of the general global public judges sex, and casual sex, and people who have sex and/or casual sex. Generally speaking -- even in countries that makes as progressive art on sex and sexuality as Thailand and the United States -- that's a rule of thumb that I can rely on. Sex is judged by the majority of the global public.

2) I hate to say it. I cannot believe this happened. But I was right about monogamy being an ultimate theme in Only Friends. Not just a theme, fam. A theme by which people judged others for having open, casual, and consensual sex. Queer sex. Queer sex that is so very often had outside of the constraints of a monogamous relationship.

There was a reason why that holiday party was populated by couples, except for Boston, and Boston had to grovel to them in apology for their friendship. In Only Friends: monogamy wins, and casual queer sex loses.

3) Unfortunately, in part though an analysis of Cheum inside of last week that I accidentally started (ha), I see that points 1 and 2 come together to have created a fabric and framework of judgement that Only Friends ended on.

The last paragraph in this excellent post by @benkaaoi notes that the assumption by a large portion of the OF fandom that the creative choices that were made to end this series were designed to save the sanctity -- economic and otherwise -- of the shipped pairs of ForceBook and FirstKhao. This rings true to me.

Most of the BL shows that I've watched this year are older shows, through my Old GMMTV Challenge, in which I've been studying the changes over time that GMMTV and other Thai networks, have made towards their editorial choices, attitudes, and risks in producing BLs. I included Only Friends on this syllabus to note the show's impact as a kind of zeitgeist measure of how much heat and literary controversy GMMTV could take in airing increasingly progressive queer media -- even though Only Friends wasn't originally intended to be a BL.

To the theory that Only Friends needed to save the ships... and to another theory that the ships needed to be saved in the most moralistically judgmental way that I could have ever imagined (I was actually blown away by how heavy-handed this messaging was) -- I look to the ending of 2gether.

The majority general reaction to the ending of 2gether from within the existing BL fandom in 2020, was one of guffawed incredulousness. BrightWin/SarawatTine did not kiss in the first season of 2gether. It took Aof Noppharnach to come in to make Still 2gether to indicate that these two young men may have been at least vaguely sexual with each other throughout the course of their fictional relationship.

Yet, 2gether was a massive success. Many theorize it was because 2gether was the first big BL to air during the start of the COVID pandemic, and new BL fans had time to be at home and watch shows. But I posit in my 2gether/Still 2gether review that 2gether was also successful PRECISELY BECAUSE IT LACKED SEX (and by sex here, I mean plain old kissin').

As I stated earlier: sex is judged by the majority of the global public. With BrightWin NOT kissing, new fans who may have been implicitly and/or explicitly turned off by physical depictions of queer love could glom comfortably onto 2gether, and watch a BL without the "threat" of physical depictions of two men expressing their love to each other.

Subsequently, BrightWin gained massive social media followings, 2gether made GMMTV buckets of money, and GMMTV went -- well, hot diggity.

Many of us had impressions of Only Friends as...something else than it ended up being. Early on, Jojo Tichakorn, for instance, cited an early non-GMMTV, non-BL show, Gay OK Bangkok, that he and Aof Noppharnach worked on in 2016 and 2017, as being referential to Only Friends. Gay OK Bangkok centered on a group of queer friends, mostly cisgender men with Jennie Panhan in the mix, as they lived their lives and dated away in Bangkok.

I'll tell ya, GOKB didn't end the way Only Friends did, and I'll get into that more in a bit. I believe @benkaaoi, @lurkingshan, and others are absolutely right that the ultimate moralization on casual sex that this show depicted -- and how Only Friends punished Boston for his casual sex -- was an economic decision designed to reflect on the sanctity of monogamy that shipped couples like ForceBook and FirstKhao can sell back to their fans, fans that may have actually flocked to GMMTV shows from 2gether, and that demand a fantasy of devoted monogamy from both fictional characters and professional actors who are actually only just doing fan service to earn their livings. GMMTV has known for a long time how to make money, and money the network doth has made from Only Friends, and from shipping their ships around the world to service the growing fandom.

Casual sex in fiction, casual sex that breaks up the ships.... fucks that economic shit all up.

GMMTV has taught us our lesson, a lesson that we had already learned from the no-kissing rule of 2gether. Loose lips shall not sink ships at this network. And I think we lost a chance for a big and progressively artistic zeitgeist that GMMTV could have taken risks on, if it had the courage to risk depicting something truly novel.

I want to note quickly another framework that I dug into while I was watching this show. I sent a flare to @lurkingshan before I started watching the episode that I was going to, in part, watch this last episode from my personal Asian lens. I wanted to ask myself, as I was watching this disaster -- is there anything happening here that strikes my heart with fear and doom as an Asian?

Indeed, yes. I didn't expect it, but there was a dialogue on individualism vs. collectivism.

Boston. My dear, sweet Boston. Boston, named after a city so very distant from Bangkok.

Boston was punished by his group of friends because he didn't adhere to the rules of the group. His individualistic actions and preferences -- his preferences to "roll alone," as Nick stated, would not work in the frameworks of either monogamy with Nick and/or the group dynamics of the hostel crew.

The link I linked above is an amazing answer to an inquiry I posed to dear @absolutebl last year about how Asian social collectivist paradigms are depicted in BLs. In that question-and-answer dialogue, I asked ABL Sensei about the motif of queer revelations in BLs, and how seemingly straight characters respond in kind to being approached with a proposition to a queer dalliance and/or relationship. Generally speaking, the Asian collectivist mindset is to at least attempt to respond in kind to those kinds of propositions, as one's behavioral habits are designed to be responsive to others instinctually, as opposed to only servicing oneself. To only service oneself is not only seen as selfish, but also as disturbing to the general flow of public existence among one's societies. To respond in kind means that you will not cause potentially disturbing angst to another individual or group. (Collectivism explains why Asian countries performed much better with mask mandates during the pandemic than we in the States did.)

So -- Boston filming Ray, Boston sleeping with Top, created waves in the friend group. He was so severely punished for it.

And the show iterates, and repeats, Nick's preference that Boston move forward alone in Boston's life, because of Boston's tendencies to make decisions that suit himself. As an Asian-American, I mutter to myself: god forbid.

Nick will not commit to Boston -- and yet, will also condemn Boston for making his own decisions outside of the specter of a monogamy that does not exist between Nick and Boston, and that Boston will still get judged for, as referenced in the Sand/Nick conversation depicted above.

In other words: if Boston makes a decision for himself? That's punishable. Because it might hurt someone else's feelings -- a someone else that actually hasn't committed to Boston, and/or allowed Boston to commit himself to.

This group caught Boston in a moralistic and collectivist catch-22, the likes of which I just would have never expected from Jojo and team, even if the creative team faced the economic pressures of the GMMTV bigwigs. I'm sorry to state that I am beyond disappointed in this condemnation of individualism, sending Boston alone, judged, and friendless, off to New York City to live in, what, the immoral boundaries of Chelsea? Homey, get a fucking SWEET-ASS PAD, and FUCK THESE LOSERS, leave 'em BEHIND in your cloud of airplane gas emissions. See you at the La Quinta rooftop bar on 32nd Street, friendo.

Only Friends could have ended so much better. And I understand that in the Only Friends novel, published AFTER the script was finished, that it did end somewhat better for Boston (cc @jinitak, reporting from Thailand, thank you for this heads-up about the novel!).

So. Any-fucking-way. Do y'all know how Gay OK Bangkok ended?

Of many lovely endings for the various GOKB characters, an older main character, Aof, was dating a much younger character, Big. (CC to @neuroticbookworm for our quick convo on this last night.)

Aof was sex-averse. Big wanted lots of sex. Big slept with a lot of people. He loved Aof. Aof couldn't handle Big having sex with other people, and they broke up. It was a lovingly handled break-up, written just gorgeously by Aof Noppharnach.

After their break-up, I thought Big would disappear from the show. Instead. Instead! Nong Big, the little brother to the core group of queer friends that centered GOKB, was welcomed back with open arms. Arm, Pom, Sathang (played by an effervescent Jennie Panhan), and others toasted to Big, telling him he would always be family, no matter if him and his ex, Aof, had broken up. In the queer circles of friends that I'm a part of, exes are not as commonly excommunicated as they are in straight circles.

Only Friends could have been this. Something, a little something, like this.

Instead, Only Friends punished a friend for acting outside of the rules of their group.

Boston was punished because.... because Only Friends had to end up being a BL. For the sake of the moolah, for the sake of collectivism, for the sake of the shippers who'll buy tickets around the world to see ForceBook and FirstKhao perform fan service on stage.

I just didn't think that the show would be so brutal, on so many levels, in the end, to people who want to have casual sex. I don't think any of us expected this. But, it's over, it's done, and the piece has been said -- GMMTV said, no casual sex today, and here's how we actually feel about it.

I'll see you over on Gagaoolala for Playboyy. Deuces, OF.

(It was an absolute pleasure writing meta with the Ephemerality Squad -- onto the next one! @lurkingshan @neuroticbookworm @ranchthoughts @twig-tea @slayerkitty @thatgirl4815 @distant-screaming @clara-maybe-ontheroad)

[raaorqtpbpdy]

More Danny Phantom fans should watch Generator Rex tbh, because it’s basically everything we wish Danny Phantom was. (Link to pirate GenRex once you’re convinced and another link to the megs file if that’s what you prefer ; )

Snarky superpowered teenage protagonist? Rex has that in spades (like Danny)

Parents experimented on him? Check (DP fans wish)

A mysterious thing that no one knows much about but it causes unexpected changes in a person? (Nanites are like ectoplasm but scarier imo)

Main character abducted and used by a terrifying government agency? Providence got their grips in him when he was like 10 (they actually caught theirs, take that Guys in White!)

Smart but a little crazy older sibling character? Meet Cesar (our chaotic neutral Jazz)

Scary and powerful mentor figure with a hidden soft side? That’s Six (and he’s actually a regularly recurring mentor unlike *select ghost you wish was Danny’s mentor*)

Main character is part of a highly discriminated against group which is generally not considered human? Here we call them Evos (they’re like ghosts except death would be preferable)

Main character specifically and almost exclusively fights his own kind? Yeah, and Rex can actually cure them instead of just sending them away for two episodes.

Arch nemesis with similar powers to the hero? Van Kleiss walks in, blood-red flowers blooming in his footsteps. (Vlad could never)

We’re initially led to believe the hero is the only good guy in the discriminated against group until it’s revealed that that’s not the case at all.

Plus, there’s kind of a lot of body horror. There’s betrayal. There’s peril. There’s sympathetic villains. Theres a deeply terrifying and yet incredibly intriguing world. A crossover with another series about superheroes (Ben 10, though, not DC). There’s a pile of dead bodies on screen in the first episode—that’s not even hyperbole I’m being 100% literal with you right now.

It even has some inter-dimensional travel shenanigans including a town being pulled into a pocket dimension and leaving no trace. No cloning as far as I can remember though, but it does have a giant mutant rabbit, and the main character even sucks at basketball!

As an added bonus, it was targeted to 10-13 year olds and eventually taken off the air because it scared children : )

It’s everything your average Danny Phantom fan spends hours reading fanfiction about! I’m telling you! I cannot recommend this show highly enough!

[dulcewrites]

would love to see your thoughts on vaemond like I’m trembling with anticipation

He’s just…. Tragic to me. I actually like the idea of him being Corlys’ brother versus his nephew (like in the book) because of the parallel it sets up with the other brother duos we get.

I would have to go back and check, but I don’t think an actual date was given for when their parents die. For corwyn, their father, it ranges from like 60-90 AC or something. Corlys was born in the 50s so they probably grew up like Viserys and Daemon - without their parents. There is a really interesting through line between these second sons that we see (Daemon, vaemond, and Aemond). I know he isn’t character of real significance compared to the other two, but it would have been cool to see him navigate that. Especially since Corlys, his older brother and house leader, is constantly seeking validation in other forms (despite creating the house’s wealth basically himself). I would think Vaemond would have been those on some of those voyages Corlys took. He was there for the stepstones; even criticizes Daemon during it lmao and petitioned for help from Viserys. So, we get the sense he’s not a huge fan of some of the Targs. It also makes me wonder how he felt about rhaenys since he was fine publicly contesting her and corlys’ wishes. It gives off the vibe that vaemond was there for his brother through it all… till their house was in peril.

Idk just imagine it’s you and your brother against the world. He goes off and marries a dragon rider (probably under the guise of thinking he would be king consort or at the very least acquire more power through having dragon riding velaryons), and then said older brother essentially never gets over not getting the crown in the family. It leads not only the detriment of your house, but also your relationship with him - it cost you your life when you point out the obvious. Then in the afterlife you have to watch your house crash and burn for supporting the women you said they shouldn’t. TRAGIC!

I don’t like that they made him call Rhaenyra a whore. I don’t like that Daemon got his Gary Stu moment. Vaemond getting slain and then ate by a dragon in the book (and the cutting out of the silent fives tongues like Viserys threatened) was supposed to be a sign of how cruel Rhaenyra and Daemon can be. That Rhaenyra even after putting herself in the hole, was willing to claw and fight for the crown. As well as how far Viserys had let the lie go on. It was not his house up in the air so he didn’t care… till it was 🤷🏽‍♀️

[spicybylerpolls]

In response to the ‘what does age 14 look like?’ anon…

The fact that byler look older irl is definitely a reason that means I find it easier to imagine them in sexual situations. In fact, I would say this happened naturally when I saw the way their storyline was headed in s4. It was romantic already, but when I saw the duffers included: 

1. The blocking that makes it clear mike is checking out will’s ass and 

2. The hose scene

… I was like ok! green to go, this is what theyre doing. This was all subconscious though, until I came on Tumblr and actually started dissecting my viewing experience. 

I think the main issue with sexual byler in fan spaces is that there are some people who wrote highly sexual fics when the show was still in its infancy and byler did indeed look like children, and in which byler were NOT aged up. the issue here is that they were written to act in the way that no 12/13/14 year old would - I’m not even talking sexual discovery, but rather the pornification of young byler. These works were clearly gratuitous in tone rather than remedial or exploratory, so I’m sure it’s no surprise that to most average fans, these works were considered uncomfortable. 

What you said about ‘what does 14 look like anyway?’ is an interesting one, and the root of many judgemental issues in society that extend to age gaps between lovers even into their 40s and 50s. The key here is about behaviour and build, I think. Film is very visual, and though I could suspend my disbelief that byler in s4 were 14, it was more like I just ignored their ages because they didn’t seem to matter to the plot (RIP me when birthdaygate becomes real). Primarily, I was LOOKING at mike and will, and their bodies, and the acting - the way they moved and delivered certain lines - is what made me unable to ignore, subconsciously, that these guys were not 14 year olds. They were post-pubescent. 

That said, s3 was an odd one. So let’s quickly list what byler should look like if Finn and Noah matched Mike and Will’s ages irl.

S1 byler should look like S1 Finn, S2 Noah

S2 byler should look like S2 Finn, S3 Noah (already its feeling weird)

S3 byler should look like S2 Finn, S3 Noah

S4 byler should look like S2 Finn, S3 Noah

Already you can see we have some issues because Finn looks so young and his build is so different to Noah’s. The costume designers discussed this in s4… it’s just a part of working with growing actors, and I personally believe that the duffers wrote the story to the actor’s abilities. Actually, they’ve said they do this, and I think it means that they up the ante to find a balance between what a fictional teen would actually do, and what the irl actors would look good doing. Finn was 18 playing mike in s4.. if he was still behaving like s2 mike, would it have been absurd? Was it an acting choice to make his delivery more mature? I especially think this is noticeable with MBB and eleven, who looks like a young woman in s4, especially with the final scene costume design. But then again, eleven is a unique character with a unique experience. 

Or maybe the directing and acting is just inconsistent. Maybe both. Who knows. Honestly, the duffers knew the perils of working with a young cast and so should have expected all the possible responses fans might have, including sexualisation. That isn’t to remove blame from (actually problematic) fans, but I do remember my main concern when watching in s1 being: man, I hope that these kid actors will be taken care of emotionally as they grow into adults. 

And I think that’s the rub in this debate - it’s that approach and the way the actors carry themselves when performing which lends itself to the emotional maturity of the characters. They were clearly children in the early seasons, and so sexualisation, then, just feels way off to me. After all, paedophilia is literally about adult attraction to undermatured, pre-pubescent bodies; its essentially considered unnatural and an error in the brain because you are seeing something that isn’t there; you are seeing a child’s body as though it is ready for sexual activity, and it’s not. That doesn’t happen until puberty physically. You dont need me to tell you that this is why teenagers are so horny as they go through the changes. But being emotionally ready? That gets complex. You could argue that’s also why people tell coming of age stories. Because it’s difficult and uncomfortable and INTERESTING. 

And it’s why the staunch line of a specific age itself, rather than bodily and emotional maturity, being the decider whether someone is an adult or not is so reductive. 

But, hey - we need structure and laws and guidelines otherwise everything gets too grey. So they decided 18 in the USA, but other ages elsewhere, and some people take that literally even when it’s inappropriate to do so, for example condemning their own needs. It’s all about whether you are hurting someone. Obviously, sexualising actual children is damaging to them, so it’s wrong. But exploring your sexuality when it appears in a healthy way is not damaging, and fantasy is hurting no one except, possibly, yourself. 

Tl;dr - yes people get attached to the actual imagery of byler, because tv is primarily audiovisual and this is who the characters *are* to lots of viewers. It’s also near impossible to age them up without thinking of the real life actors, which some people would consider crossing a boundary into rpf, even though this process is what casting directors, writers and creators in film need to do all the time. 

So my poll is a bit more specific, and about preference rather than censorship or whats ‘ok’. Please choose what best applies to you. 

I’m comfortable shipping byler sexually…

a. When byler are pre-pubescent and the actors were too (s1-2)

b. When byler are pre-pubescent but the actors were mid-pubescent (s3)

c. When byler are pubescent but the actors are post-pubescent (s4)

d. Once both byler and the actors are post-pubescent (s5 aged up)

e. Even if the characters are still 14-15 in s5, because I want to see their arc completed and if the duffers show it then it means it must be ok

f. No matter their age; theyre fictional and its not about the actors at all for me

g. Only when engaging with fan works, no matter their age, but only if sex is character exploration

h. Only when engaging with fan works, no matter their age, even if smut/pornographic

i. Only when engaging with fan works, post-pubescent, but only if sex is character exploration

j. Only when engaging with fan works, post-pubescent, even if smut/pornographic

k. I can’t picture aged-up byler without thinking of Finn + noah because we’ve never seen what aged up byler would actually look like 

Please note that the purpose of this blog is not to be creepy or to make anyone uncomfortable. That's why I created the #spicy byler tag (I will tag all polls with this). If you don't want to see this blog or anything related to it on your feed, please block that tag. Not everyone is comfortable with this sorta stuff, and that's okay.

[denimbex1986]

'“The Giggle” has been. The outcome: Ncuti Gatwa IS the Doctor! AND David Tennant IS ALSO the Doctor!

Well, people said they wanted a multi-Doctor story, I guess.

So what’s happened, what does it mean, and will anyone ever get to read the original version of this article that I wrote in an extremely broad German accent?

In the final act of 60th anniversary special “The Giggle”, David Tennant’s Fourteenth Doctor was shot with a massive laser by The Toymaker (Neil Patrick Harris) and started to regenerate. However, the regeneration energy disappeared, and the Doctor asked his friends to pull. The Fifteenth Doctor (Ncuti Gatwa) emerged as a new incarnation, leaving the Fourteenth alive and well and slightly confused. This is a ‘bigeneration’.

What the Flip Is a Bigeneration?

It’s apparently a Time Lord myth, and like many good Time Lord myths we’ve never heard of it before. It is essentially a regeneration where the old and new incarnation both survive to interact, the old one gets to grow old and – potentially – regenerate into the new one at a later date? Not 100% sure on that last bit, but it can be inferred from 15’s saying to 14 “I’m fine because you fix yourself”.

Showrunner Russell T Davies has suggested, in the commentary for this episode (available to stream on BBC iPlayer in the UK) that this concept might have spread throughout the history of the show, explaining fan theories such as the one surrounding Season 6B (the idea of 6B being that, after Patrick Troughton’s Second Doctor disappears into the void in “The War Games”, he doesn’t immediately regenerate into the Third, and ends up being used as an unofficial operative for shadowy Time Lord affairs – I know, imagine!). To be clear: this is not something Davies has confirmed for the future of the show, but it was mentioned as a possible way to have previous actors return to the role.

Is There a Precedent For This or What?

Absolutely not, no. However, there wasn’t a precedent for the first regeneration in 1966, which was a workaround prompted by the ill health of First Doctor actor William Hartnell, and fans eventually managed to cope with that one.

Two Doctors: No Peril?

Well, there wasn’t a huge amount of peril before, was there? Previously, the Doctor regenerated and we said goodbye to the old incarnation (barring multi-Doctor specials) and hello to the new. That’s still the case, really, so the actual threat level is pretty similar: we always know when a regeneration is coming so it’s not a huge surprise. The difference is that the previous incarnation is still cutting about somewhere.

What Does It All Mean for the Whoniverse?

Ah, I see you’ve adopted the official branding. Well, we don’t know the full ramifications yet. We don’t know if Ncuti Gatwa’s Fifteenth Doctor will regenerate or bigenerate. We don’t know if David Tennant is on speed dial for future series finales. What we know is there is potential here, and if we’re honest it could go either way.

Bigeneration felt like a farewell to Doctor Who (2005 – 2023). It needed a rest. The Fourteenth Doctor looked like an older Tenth Doctor, who brought down a government by saying “Don’t you think she looks tired?” in his first episode. Doctor Who (2023 – ) is still the Doctor Who that started in 1963 and restarted in 2005 (with a delightful barrage of references to demonstrate that), but it’s also a new start.

It’s quite a symbolic gesture to mark a significant change, which is a bold move given that the one thing Doctor Who fans cope with worse than change is symbolism.

The positives are the sense of closure it can give to the previous incarnation, who gets to hear the new one say “Don’t worry, I’ve got this”. There’s a support system in place, a reduction in post-regenerative trauma. The previous incarnations get to play their age in scenes like Tales from the TARDIS. There’s increased potential for stories. Also, if apparently set-in-stone aspects of the series can be challenged – and with the Time Lords currently dead again – who knows what that means for history?

But Does It Undermine Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor?

Maybe. The worry is that – while the intention is for fans to fill in the deliberate (Curator-sized) gaps – the presence of past incarnations can loom over the current Doctor.

You remember the pressure on Matt Smith when he took over from David Tennant? That was without the in-story possibility of Tennant turning up again. Ncuti Gatwa is clearly positioned as a new start and the future in “The Giggle”, and the hope is clearly that the show will move forward and not have to look over its shoulder.

The expanded universe spin-off series that are expected to arrive will also provide a training ground for potential future showrunners. There’s clearly a plan in place to ensure that Doctor Who is a long-term concern.

However, we’ve just had the return of David Tennant and Catherine Tate as the Doctor and Donna. These characters are still around. We know that ‘Mad Aunty Mel’ (the returning Bonnie Langford, reprising her role as Mel after her brief two-series tenure as companion in the late Eighties) is back in Ncuti Gatwa’s first series, and surely the Fourteenth Doctor and Donna will be asked about.

Essentially we’re in new territory here, and at the start of something. Unlike “The Timeless Child”, which came in midway through Chris Chibnall’s time as showrunner, we know Ncuti Gatwa has at least two series to go and explore these ideas (as opposed to Chibnall having one COVID-abridged series in which to wrap everything up).

The gamble is whether or not folk will accept Gatwa as the Doctor to the extent that the past is remembered fondly and warmly but still very much considered The Past. The worry is, having brought Tennant and Tate back for these three specials and allowing them to be both nostalgia and a foundation, the audience that is brought with them pines for them in their absence. The new cast is haunted by the spectre of the old. Ncuti Gatwa’s era is hobbled by its opening gambit.

Or, alternatively, we might never hear about bigeneration ever again.

So There Might Be Absolutely Nothing to Worry About?

In the context of Doctor Who, ja.'

[milanocookiesandivyprofen]

headcanons

amphibia

During the resistance, Anne constantly asked to borrow Sasha's cape because it was cold and it smelled nice

Marcy brought her switch to Amphibia and kept being the clumsiest motherfucking woman alive but stopped using it when she saw Anne because she didn't want to get lectured

Post-Amphibia, Sprig and Ivy travelled all across Amphibia, like they said they would. They even brought Ivy's mom on some trips because she knew some of the people there

Silvia moved out of town but she and Hop Pop constantly write to each other

Polly invented more technology as she grew older, taking advantage of her knowledge of human tech. She even made custom phones (and wifi!) and is one of the most famous frogs in Amphibia

Sprig, after getting Polly's wifi, searched up so much stuff on Anne's phone, found tons of social media websites, and doesn't know it but actually found Anne on one of those sites

Sprig is a master pizza chef

Maddie is now a very well-known sorceress. People pay her to curse or heal others

Mayor Toadstool turned into a decent guy and after passing, Toadie became Wartwood's new mayor

the owl house

Luz and Amity have planned out their entire future

Hunter, Raine and Luz are all harcore Warriors fans. They all have OCs and they even created an RP which they begged their wives to play

Gus became an actual illusion master and does magic shows

Camila has grown to love the Boiling Isles' weirdness and has learned a few glyphs, but mostly stays true to her trusty baseball bat

All of the Hexsquad's parents share a dartboard with a picture of Belos on it

King has cat habits (ex: he never stops sleeping, he gives "gifts" to Luz and Eda)

Eda, Lilith and Raine all live in the Owl House and Lilith is hardcore third wheeling

gravity falls

Dipper and Mabel make each other gifts and appreciate them no matter how bad they are (and trust me, they are bad)

Wendy probably part-times as a security designer

Soos and Melody are the cheesiest couple to ever exist (they go on sweet dates, they tell each other really corny jokes, ect)

Stan and Ford, after their big boat trip, got into tons of trouble together and even got arrested together (dont worry they got out of jail safe and sound)

Pacifica works at a construction site and is constantly getting her hands dirty to spite her parents

wednesday

enid cant sleep without her snood

wednesday kills anyone who said something slightly negative about enid

xavier has given up his weird stalking tendencies but nobody wants to date him anyways

morticia and gomez treat enid as though she were their own daughter and have a burning hatred for enids mother

enid has read twilight and somehow hates it more than wednesday does

wednesday still gets visions but theyre about really dumb things like whatever weird thing enid will do on a date or some plan pugsley has to deal with bullies

wednesday still murders anyone who bullies pugsley but scolds him about it

warriors

ivypool is lesbian (i used to hc her as bi but she is a definite lesbian)

fernsong is transfem

firestar is pan

sandstorm is omni

bluestar is bi

ravenpaw is bi

jake is pan

barley and tallstar are gay

everyone knows firestar is pan except for himself

after having jay holly and lion leafpool was dating mothwing but they broke up after the leafcrow parent reveal. mothwing wasnt mad about it but they both thought their reputations were damaged enough

blossomfall bullied when she was younger and still does it when shes mad for no reason

everyone secretly thinks ivypool is super badass

wings of fire

willowdew is canon and bumblebee is their official daughter

sundew is lesbian

cleril eventually gets married but peril cant get a wedding ring and she is WAY too sad about it but doesnt want anyone to enchant her ring because she has severe anxiety about animus magic after escaping peril

snowfall had a small crush on sky but quickly forgot about it after going back to the ice kingdom

tsunami ended up dating riptide in secret and once she became queen, she announced it officially and literally no one was surprised

shark is surprisingly loyal to anemone but literally hates tsunami and anemone is the only thing stopping him from swearing about her when no one is looking

glory, tsunami, sundew, burn, blister and snowfall have all sworn at some point

keeper of the lost cities

dex becomes the most talented technopath in the lost cities and makes tons of gadgets for everyone to use

sophie is fucking bi

fitz goes to therapy and solves his anger issue problems

keefe and silveny are still BFFs

the adults (including all the councillors) need at least a glass of fizzleberry wine per week to cope with all this shit

harry potter

ron stays an idiot forever and hermione is the only reason he is alive at this point

ginny is bi

[chiakinanami82]

A Series of Unfortunate Events: Gothic Hits

A Series of Unfortunate Events is a chapter book series written by Daniel Handler that follows the Baudelaire orphans and the treacherous ordeals that they experience. The first book, The Bad Beginning, was published in 1999, and was an instant hit. The series continued until 2006 with The End. The books waver between 162 and 368 pages. These books are considered to be gothic-esque, dark comedy, fictional children’s novels. I have also read the prequel series, All the Wrong Questions, which explores narrator Lemony Snicket’s first assignment in a failing town called Stain’d by the Sea. AtWQ is more like a film noir. Lemony Snicket, within ASOUE, is an older gentleman who’s lost a lot, and it shows in his monologues at times. He’s also intelligent and crafty, but can be cowardly at times. The title intrigues the reader, as life can be described as a series of unfortunate events, and it fits well with the text of the book. After all, the title warns the reader of misfortune, and Lemony consistently tries to prevent the consumer to cease reading of the unfortunate lives of these poor children. The illustrator is Brett L. Helquist, and his art is distinct, gothic, and absolutely gorgeous.

Our protagonists are the Baudelaire orphans, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny. They’re pretty stereotypical kid protagonists, being clever, kind, morally good, and polite. Each one has their own special talent. Violet is a fourteen-year-old inventor whose inventions save the trio time and time again. Klaus, twelve, is a massive bookworm with an impressive memory. Gladly, his research does come in handy a ton. Sunny’s the baby, and originally starts the series with a love of biting things, which evolves into a culinary interest. The overarching villain of the entire series is Count Olaf, an awful actor who plans to gain the Baudelaire fortune. He’s actually my favorite character. He’s terrible, violent, slimy, and unclean, yet he brings up good points about the world and society, especially in the twelfth book. The kids encounter several other characters, but I’ll keep them a secret just in case.

This satirical series has a lot of heart, and it treats its younger audience quite well, as Handler understands his audience’s intelligence. Not to mention, the series is dark enough for older audiences as well, and the literary references hit harder when you’ve read them. Hell, a ton of the lingering overarching mysteries have clues in the side works, and it’s up to the fans to figure it out. While some may complain about the writing style, I appreciate the humor it generates. The writing style is somewhat simplistic and repetition is a common sight, but the humor and the strangely specific definitions give it that spice. Is it somewhat annoying for there to be two full pages and the word “ever”? A bit, but it’s hilarious. There’s even a point where Snicket can’t describe a deadly fall into a dark place, so the page is just completely black. The books are written from Snicket’s point of view as he investigates their journey, making little quips foreshadowing or even spoiling certain events, such as a guardian’s death.

The series is built on subverting tropes and applying certain sayings quite literally for comedic and dramatic effect. In The Penultimate Peril, the hotel is called the Hotel Denouement. A denouement is the part of the story where the mysteries are solved and hanging threads are revealed, but Handler doesn’t answer any of our questions in the almost final chapter of the Baudelaire’s story. It’s brilliant. An example of a character taking a saying literally is a character named Babs who appears (or is rather heard) in The Hostile Hospital. She believes that if children are to be seen and not heard, then adults should be heard and not seen, so she hides in a booth and no one is able to see her face.

This series has more than wit, the subversion of tropes, and unfortunate events. It also has powerful themes of hope in times of great despair, the importance of family, and adults failing children even if they have the power to help due to their own issues. If you haven’t read this series since your childhood, I implore you to. If anything here has piqued your interest, well, check it out. You might be pleasantly surprised.

[kingofangst]

JJK OC from my JJK fanfic: A Nexus's Peril

Sai Sai

Profile

Age: 16

Birthday: June 1st, 2002

Height: 5 feet 7 inches

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Blue-tinted Silver

Origin: Tokyo, Japan 🇯🇵

Rank: Semi-Grade 1

Cursed Technique: TBA soon (he he he😏)

Cursed Tools: Yatagarasu (cursed tessen fans), Kuraronin (Black Wagasa with a gun barrel and tanto bayonet on the bottom)

Hobbies: reading, shopping, mocking grade 4 curses, money, being a Jujutsu Sorcerer

Likes: tamago, sashimi, bubble tea, raspberries, wine, money

Dislikes: curses (obviously), melons, taro, cheap fashion, pointless missions

Relatives: Mei Mei (older sister), Ui Ui (younger brother)

Nicknames: Nii-san (Ui Ui), Sai (Mei Mei), Sai-kun (Gojo sometimes), Sai Sai-kun-kun (Itadori), silver cryptid (Kugisaki), Foxfire (Panda), onigiri-roe (Inumaki)

This is my JJK OC, before anyone asks that if he's canon or if he is related to Mei Mei and Ui Ui, he is my creation. Sadly I have no drawing of him but think young Mei Mei from 2006 with Ui Ui's hairstyle but undercut and smooth back with a mixture of masculine and androgynous features. what do you guys think?

- Sayonara

[yuristarwars]

I could totally imagine Tech being a secret racing fan while on Kamino. The speeder simulations are his favorite and he’s always in the top 10. Sometimes Nala Se lets them watch TV and he sees an old DVD from a while back that one of the older clones brought back home. Its titles *Pod Races of Tattooine* and Tech watches it constantly, much to the dismay of the others (”Am I the only one who’s missing his History of Mandalore Podcast?” - Wrecker). Tech completely hyperfixates on the perilous races and especially one kid who managed to win the Boonta Eve podrace of 32 BBY, Anakin Skywalker. It completely fascinates and confounds Tech why these people would put their lives in such danger for something other than a greater cause, but he nonetheless respects it. He drops the interest after a while and focuses on other studies but that interest still stays in the back of his mind. One day, Tech learns that Anakin Skywalker, The Hero Without Fear, is in the Clone Wars. He asks Hunter to go on a mission with him but poor Hunter has heard enough stories about this guy from the Clone Bar on Coruscant. One miraculous day, CF99 is called by the 212th to help them rescue a clone and of course they have to oblige, even though they don’t always like Cody’s rigid way of doing things. To Tech’s absolute AMAZEMENT, he sees Skywalker there, the pod-racing champion. Of course, he doesn’t say anything, because its a very serious mission and he doesn’t wanna act like a fanboy, but after they rescue Echo and everything he asks for just a quick moment to get his autograph. Anakin, awestruck that someone recognizes him as anything other than a Jedi is OC course DELIGHTED. So they part ways and Clone Force 99 do their things and Anakin and the 501st do theirs. After Order 66, Tech hears that Anakin and senator Amidala were both killed by the mysterious Sith Lord, Darth Vader. Tech wants to keep the autograph in memory of Anakin, but after seeing Echo cope so poorly with the loss of his general and friend, Tech gifts it to him, so that Anakin Skywalker, can always live on.

[anhed-nia]

As I get older, I keep encountering this change that happens to my friends who become parents, where even the most hardcore horror devotees among them lose their ability to enjoy anything that involves an imperiled child. I don't think it's just because worrying about kids is now a lived experience for them, I think it probably has even more to do with neurological changes that happen to the brains of new parents. A friend of mine once remarked that she could feel in her bones that she had become a different person after having kids--and it wasn't about her expanding life experience, it was that she could sense some fundamental change in her very makeup, of the kind that neuroscience describes: "I can't tell you how, but I know I'm just not the same person I used to be anymore."

I was recently at the home of a devout horror fan with two small children, who started hinting in this fraught way that he'd just seen something that made him sick and ruined his life for like a week. He kept stammering and gasping until I told him that if he didn't spit out what it was, I was going to wring it out of him like a sponge--and he probably didn't find it rewarding when I said, "Oh, THAT movie?" (But it was his own fault for bringing it up so dramatically!) SPEAK NO EVIL I thought was just-fine, but nothing about it made it significantly more disturbing than any other, similar movies--unless you're specifically bothered by the presence of kids. In truth I find it more disturbing when elderly people are threatened on screen; to me they're just as vulnerable as children, and I respond to their fragility. But it's like, why does age really have to impact our sympathy responses at all? My best friend often rolls her eyes at the part of the opening TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE monologue that says the film's events are "all the more tragic in that (the victims) were young." Or what's up with those BABY ON BOARD car window decals, why isn't it enough that there's a PERSON on board? People might say they respond to young people being menaced because they have so much life yet to be lived, or because children in particular are more helpless, but I tend to think it's some deeper, reptile brain thing that makes many people react automatically to the very idea of children in peril, some preservation-of-the-species thing that goes beyond sentimentality.

Anyway, when I told another horror-loving parent that I was going to watch SKINAMARINK (which I found imperfect, but very beautiful and occasionally terrifying), he had a reaction I didn't expect. He fixed me with a meaningful gaze and said emphatically, "I mean...TWO KIDS, waking up at night, and their DAD IS GONE??" I don't know if I can handle that!" I found this really funny because I'm pretty sure that most people relate directly to what they see on the screen--like I'm pretty sure most audiences of SKINAMARINK related the on-screen terror to their own remembered fears of navigating a dark house at night, and also to primal fears of abandonment. The most typical way to watch any movie is to relate to the experience of the protagonist you see before you. But my friend, who has two small children, without even having seen the movie, was relating to the absent father, who is barely a character in it. Instead of relating directly to the experience the movie described, and to his own memories of childhood, he instead imagined his children alone, and the helpless feeling he would have as a dad unable to reach them, and that was like...I found that very novel of him. But I guess you can watch movies any way you want!

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (7/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Well, this was a gargantuan chapter, such a pain to read over. My apologies for any errors ugh, I'll re-read and fix anything. Happy New Year, my loves!!

CHAPTER 7: Charlie shows you a more serious side of him at the bar. And as your 'relationship' begins to solidify, you gain a confusing wave of support. Namely, from his brother, Bill. (7.5k words)

CHAPTER 7: PARTNERS IN CONTRACT

“You’re late!” 

Alicia berated the twins at the door as they waltzed in. Charlie trailed behind the pair, hands in pockets, and you followed behind him. The door swung shut, barricading the crisp autumn air outside. The inside of the bar was almost as dim as the night, with ropes of fairy lights on the wall giving you much needed visibility.  Shrubbery shrouded the corners and a blanket of roses were pinned tastefully around the bar. You were certain that Lee hadn’t picked this place. 

“Fashionably so,” George corrected with a wave of his finger. 

“Our older brother was keeping us from being timely. He enjoys long showers, it seems.” Fred snickered as he eyed Charlie in blame. Charlie just shrugged, letting the accusation slide off. Alicia’s eyes swept from you to Charlie. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused midway and redirected her focus to Charlie. 

“You must be—”

“Charlie Weasley.” Charlie inched forward and he extended a hand.

Alicia’s eyes lit up. “I’ve heard so much about you!” she remarked.

“From who?”

“Oliver Wood. And Professor McGonagall.”

Charlie let out a steady laugh. “As expected of my two biggest fans.”

“Well, come on, then,” Alicia said, waving you in. “The party can’t start with you.”

She led you to the back of the bar where a long wooden table was erected. Lee, wearing a paper crown, was flanked by Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell and some other familiar faces. Fred and George immediately began making their rounds, and so did Charlie, introducing himself to everyone. A couple of people lifted themselves off the neighbouring barstools to join in on the formalities.

As you watched Charlie being circled in and meeting your friends from your year, you wondered if it was odd that he was so much older than your group. But it seemed like no one cared, so you resolved not to worry about it either.

You left him to his own devices and went to the bar instead. There was a flock of young women, dressed up in skimpy tops and leather skirts, chatting on the stools beside you. 

The bartender, a woman in her forties, approached to serve you. She propped her arm on the counter to propel herself forward. “What are you having tonight, love?” 

“A gin and tonic,” you responded.

“Make that two.”

You turned around and nearly smacked your face into Charlie’s broad chest which was outlined by a soft navy sweater. He stood so close behind you that even moving an inch would be perilous; someone here had forgotten the meaning of personal space and it wasn’t you. Charlie had finished greeting everyone and had the same idea as you—to get a drink.

“Meeting people is exhausting,” he commented in a low voice, feigning exhaustion as he stretched his arms behind his head. He peered down at you, sharp blue eyes glowing even in the dark. “I didn’t know people had so many questions about me.”

“You’re one of the mysterious older brothers,” you said as you thanked the bartender for the drink. “So, get used to it.”

“Hm, maybe I will.”

Charlie extended an arm, snaking it around the curve of your body to reach for his drink. He slipped a bill for the bartender and made a note for her to keep the change. Unmoving, he cocked his head towards your ear and said, “But I’d like to ask a question about you for a change.”

“Sure,” was all you managed to squeak out. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his body. 

The ice clattered in the glass (like your heart was) as Charlie raised his arm to take a sip of his drink. You caught an elusive glimpse of his lip partially suctioned on the rim of the glass. “What’s this mysterious briefcase you’re toting around? Work? It’s a birthday party, live it up.”

Honesty was the best policy. “It’s just paperwork for the rental unit.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t handed it in yet? You sounded pretty sure about it.”

“I’m going to slip out and hand it off tonight,” you affirmed. “Because I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow morning.”

“Passed out in the flat,” Charlie surmised.

“How would you know?”

“Just based on the rate that you’re consuming your gin and tonic.”

“My next order will be water,” you shot back.

Charlie pulled a barstool from in front of you and motioned to it. “Well, station yourself, then.”

You swiftly sat down. Charlie followed suit a second later by pulling out a barstool for himself. You immediately crumbled into a pile of honesty. “Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s even worth a shot.”

“The apartment?” Why not?” Charlie implored, his playful eyes settling into more serious ones. 

“Mr. Circelli, the head of the company, is under the impression my father is footing the bill,” you explained. “But there’s no way he would, not after...” You trailed off, not wanting to bog Charlie down with details of the argument that occurred after he left. Fortunately, he didn’t press you about it.

He drummed his fingers on the dark oak table. “What about your mum?”

“She doesn’t want me to move out,” you said, giving your cold glass a hard squeeze. “She reckons the whole lead-up to it was foolish, so she won’t do it.”

Charlie stopped drumming his fingers. “That sucks.”

You took a long sip and sighed. “Tell me about it. And my reference is from Fred.”

“From Fred?” Charlie repeated, jaw falling slack.

You groaned loudly though the noise was quickly swallowed by Lee hollering in the back. 

Charlie chuckled. “Say no more.”

You frowned. “And my paystub is deficient in some ways,” you admitted. “Mr. Circelli is going to have a heart attack when he sees the state of my wages.”

Charlie’s expression shifted to one of inquisitiveness. “Bill can write you a reference,” he said.

“Bill?” you asked, exasperation written all over your face. You really thought of Bill as the epitome of maturity. To falsify a reference would be out of character and there was no way he would participate in chicanery like this.  “He doesn’t know me. And this application is due in ten hours.”

“Bill is already on baby-time,” Charlie remarked with a grimace. “Trust me, I know. He’s up at all hours.”

“And you know,” Charlie continued, his tone almost lecturing. “I don’t think the person reviewing your application really cares about the content, however well Fred can write. The name, position, and stamp is more important. ‘Bill Weasley, Curse Breaker, Senior Bank Manager and Head of Global Affairs at Gringotts’ already looks much better than ‘Fred Weasley, Co-Proprietor’. Bill could write two lines and it would be a worthier reference.”

“What if they ask him questions?”

“Then Bill will answer them.”

You pouted. “But he doesn’t know me.”

Charlie sighed. “You’re working on so many hypotheticals.”

Before you could interject, Charlie called the bartender over and asked for a parchment and quill.

You tried to stop Charlie’s hand by placing yours over it. “Really, you don’t have to.”

“Do you want this place?” Charlie asked.

You nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”

“So, let me,” he said. Then, he shot you a look that meant business. “But you are going to be able to pay, right?”

“Of course.”

He chuckled, shook his head, and got down to work.

You studied Charlie’s face as he wrote, his jaw tightening and loosening as he pondered the best way to word his request. For once, he maintained an air of seriousness longer than a minute; there was no flirting or suggestive moves he was pulling from his sleeves. It was night and day from a couple of hours ago, when you were in his bedroom and losing your sanity over his every word and movement. You observed in awe as he sent off his letter in a languid yet fluid manner; obviously sent out many a letter in his lifetime.

Your admiring daze was broken when someone peered over your left shoulder, a ringlet of orange hair grazing your cheek. His brother dangled over Charlie’s right shoulder. The same culprits thrust a shot glass in front your chests.

“First shot of the night!” Fred announced.

“Drink up,” George added, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “You look like you need it, (Y/N).”

As the four of you raised your glasses, the action elicited a wave of cheers. The trio of women beside you stopped their chatter and looked on. You threw back the liquor—tequila—on Fred’s cue and let it wash over you, eyes firmly shut. It scratched and burned your throat as it trickled down, and was all you could feel through the wave of cheers circling you.

“Come on,” George said, lifting you out of your seat with his hands suctioned on your arms. “Let’s go throw some darts, play some pool.”

As the minutes passed by, the effect of the shot began settling in your bloodstream, blurring your dexterity. You missed the dartboard by a mile and nearly struck Lee who complained that he couldn’t be maimed on his birthday. You went back down to the bar after forfeiting the game, much to Lee’s pleasure. You ambled back to the bar and saw that Charlie was still there, laughing at something one of the blonde woman who was sat beside you previously was saying. Your empty chair separated them. When he caught you from the corner of his eye, he swivelled around.

“You’re terrible at darts,” Charlie commented suavely. 

You turned around and saw a wall. “You can’t even see from here.”

“I knew it was your turn when I heard Lee’s bloodcurdling screams.”

“That’s not funny.” You slapped him on the shoulder as you reclaimed your spot. For some reason, you didn’t feel too bad about cutting off Charlie’s conversation with the blonde prematurely. You felt smug, even. If it was any solace, you reminded yourself that it was him who redirected his attention to you. “So, has Bill responded yet?” you asked instead.

“Of course he has. He says his reference is on its way. Though we both agreed it was a bit of a sweet predicament to have.” Charlie teased with a small smile. 

“I suppose,” you responded, suddenly a bit stricken with guilt that Charlie was helping you land a place while he was shuffling between houses. And the only way you’d gotten here was by using your connections which was a bit counterintuitive because those connections were the exact thing you were trying to disassociate from. 

“Swimming in luxury and eating fondue on quartz countertops, indulging in vintage wines while I’m wedged in between my two loudest and most annoying brothers on a bed that can barely support my weight,” Charlie wallowed in self-pity, punctuating his remarks with a long sigh. “The universe really chooses favourites.”

A crescent of sweat grazed your neck, outlining your sweater, at what you were about to say. Feeling your guilt implode, you blurted out: “You can stay over if you need.”

Charlie stopped and eyed you curiously. “Really?”

“Yes?” Your voice was chock full of uncertainty. 

“You can’t take that back, you know.” He nudged your hand with his, the back of his index finger gently prying your fingers apart. “Let’s make an unbreakable vow before you do anything else.”

You looked down at where his hand was touching yours. “I know.”

That statement couldn’t have been more contradictory. Clearly, you knew nothing.

Had you forgotten that you were inches from death the first time he cornered you at the bar, trying not to lose it when his firm hand spun magic on your knee? Then you almost lost your mind having him over for dinner, when he took the liberty of kissing you in front of everyone. You were only spared tonight because Fred and George and the rest of your friends were around to tame him. You couldn’t imagine what living in the same closed quarters as Charlie would ensue. Maybe your evenings would be spent being pinned down on the bed, or—

“Where would I even be? In the living room?” Charlie laughed, pulling you out of your tantalizing, domesticated daydream.

You veered on the factual side. “There’s enough space in the office for a bed or futon. And that room is totally separated.”

“You have to get the unit first before dreaming about living with me,” Charlie teased, emphasising the word ‘me’ by pointing at himself, and subsequently, ricocheting your lack of faith against you.

“Because I’m going to get it,” you retorted. “If Bill doesn’t reckon this reference is a practical joke.”

“Hey, we’ve been together long enough to tell when we’re joking or not,” Charlie said, instilling some confidence into you. “The only time he believed me was when I splashed water on his face and said he was late for his potions N.E.W.T in his last year. He woke up in a right state. I almost died that day. To be honest, I felt kind of bad,”—a loud cheer from the bar caught your attention—“And I think Fred just bought a second round for the whole bar. Let’s go.”

The festivities imploded after the second round. You felt lighter, happier, like this night was the best night of your life. One moment, you were talking to Lee, apologising and kneading his face to check for scars. And then you were caught up in the juicy details of a guy that Katie was seeing. Then you were dragged up by Fred to dance to some song that was popular in your sixth year, recreating your performance at the Yule Ball. Then, an owl flew into the window, nearly swiping one of the women at the bar, and you rushed back to Charlie, asking—correction: screaming—if Bill had written back. 

“He did!” Charlie affirmed.

You squealed when you saw a piece of rolled parchment with a stamp on it. “Let’s go drop it off now!”

Charlie ushered you back. “Hang on, (Y/N).”

“What is it?”

He pulled your contract out of your briefcase. “If you were serious about letting me stay over, I have to sign the contract as well.”

“Then sign it.”

“Only if you’re certain”—Charlie tapped the quill on your contract— “because it adds me as a second tenant.”

You nodded firmly. 

His eyes bore into yours. “You’re not going to change your mind tomorrow morning?”

“Of course not!” 

“Alright, then,” he obliged, signing on the adjacent dotted line. “Let’s go.”

And finally, you found yourself wrapped in Charlie’s navy sweater, a shield against the weather. The two of you ran out into the cold night and down the block to smush the envelope into Mr. Circelli’s mailbox slot. You gave Charlie a high-five before running back to the party and dancing and drinking the night away, and the next thing you knew…

Glurgghh.

“W’ssat?” you mumbled weakly. You raised your head to investigate before a migraine, precipitated by a ray of sunlight, pushed you back down. You let out a pained sigh as you dug into the pillow.

“Congratulations, (Y/N), you didn’t end up on the floor this year.”

“Yay!” you said sarcastically, slowly propping yourself up by the elbows to stare at George’s face. 

“You did crawl into Charlie’s bed though.”

“I did?” As your sense of place settled, you realised that yes, this was definitely where you were. Your palms pressed flush against checkered blue bedsheets and wrapped in dark blue duvet that wasn’t yours.

“Are you cold?” George asked, inching closer. 

“I think I’ll be okay.” 

“Drink up,” George suggested as he tilted a vial containing antidote towards you. “You’ll feel better within the half hour.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to drink anything anymore.” You took the vial anyway.

“I know, I know,” George repeated empathetically. “I should’ve stopped you but you were having too much fun. Anyway, I’ll leave you be, but Fred’s already complaining about breakfast. He's in the shower, and I'm next.”

“Alright.”

You tilted the vial to your lips and held it there. George left the room.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Charlie suddenly peeked his head out from behind the wall. “How are you feeling?”

Suddenly, you were conscious of everything: from your dishevelled hair to your smeared makeup to your hungover state to how weakly you presented under crumpled sheets. It was night and day from Charlie, who seemed as fresh and chipper as ever. Were you at the same party last night?

You hid your face under the blanket. “I’m well.”

‘Well about to retch’ would’ve been the more accurate response.

Your nose nuzzled the bedsheets that smelled faintly of him from his first stay. You wondered what it’d be like to wake up next to him, face snuggled up against his chest, his detergent wafting from his soft white tee and overwhelming your olfactory senses. Or you could wake up to Charlie spooning you, and to his body greeting you good morning…

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Charlie inquired, arms folded, smiling. 

“Erm, it seems I stole your bed?”

“You made a dash for it, that’s for sure. Even pushed me out the way.”

“I—”

And then memories of last night flooded through your mind, your migraine fading in the background to make way for it. You remembered everything up until you dropped your application off. After that, you only had a faint recollection of Fred hoisting you up the stairs on his back because ‘heiresses don’t walk’ which prompted an argument between him and George if you were legally an heiress to the estate or not. Whatever the conclusion was, it ended with Fred dumping you by the entrance, and then you dashing into what was your usual bedroom.

“I remember,” you said. “It must’ve been muscle memory. It’s where I usually sleep after we go out.”

“Not a worry,” Charlie assured. “But you were awfully clingy towards Fred. Is that muscle memory, too?”

Before you could respond, Fred whined out from outside the door: “Let’s get breakfast, I’m bloody famished.”

“What do you say?” Charlie asked, extending a hand towards you. “Are you up for it?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand, letting him pull you out of bed.

After a greasy breakfast, you bid your goodbyes and headed home. You slipped upstairs and shoved yourself back into bed. Waves and waves of drowsiness washed over you, lulling you to slumber until the late afternoon. 

You spent the next few days at work a shell of yourself: all short-fuse and tangled live-wire, ready to electrocute whoever touched you next. You were beyond nervous, having heard nothing from Mr. Circelli’s office about the rental. Every time you received a memo, you were upset to find it was from Angus, your newly-graduated coworker, about reports actually related to work. On the brightside, having to look at reports with Angus asking you a thousand questions actually took your mind off the rental application. And when your boss, Rhys, asked to stay overtime, you quickly agreed. It meant less of your father boasting about how he was right and more money in your shrivelled bank account.

You penned in a correction on Angus’s draft as the clock struck eight. The Ministry halls were bare, with only a sprinkle of people walking around. It felt lonely. You hadn’t been in touch with Charlie since you went out for Lee’s party, and you missed him in a sense, but there was nothing to talk to him about and you didn’t want to be the first to write.

When Friday afternoon came around, you paced around in the copy room like a mad woman. You’d had three cups of coffee already, and you were going to claw your skin off if you had to wait a second longer. If you were rejected, Mr. Circelli surely would’ve had the decency to let you know, right? Unless your father had some hand in this and was waging psychological warfare on you. 

Yes, that was definitely it. They were in cahoots—!

“(Y/N)?” asked Angus nervously through a crack in the door.

“Yes, Angus?”

He peered in. “Are you alright in there?”

“No,” you responded truthfully.

“It seems, uh, like something’s been on your mind this past week,” he said. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

You decided to humour him. “Do you know how long it takes for a rental application to be approved, usually?”

“I’m not sure, (Y/N),” Angus responded earnestly. I still live with my parents.”

“Fair enough,” you sighed. 

“Maybe you could inquire with the Housing Department on the fifth floor,” Angus suggested meekly, afraid to question his superior. “But the only reason I came to find you, well, besides to make sure you were okay, seeing that it’d been much later than I expected you to return, was that an owl pecked at me to give this to you.”

He handed you a letter with a familiar stamp on it. Angus jolted like a mouse in a trap at the electric look in your eyes.

No one loved Monday more than you did today. If Monday were a person, you’d plant a big, slobbering kiss on her cheek.

Mr. Circelli’s secretary, Isobel, smiled at you. “As you may have read, your application for 63 Primrose Gardens, Unit 1100, is approved.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Circelli approved it before he left for his vacation, but we had to finish up some paperwork,” she explained with a beaming, blinding, smile. She swivelled around to open the cabinet and consequently plucked an envelope from it. “If you could sign here, Ms. Malfoy.”

You never signed faster.

“He’s left you the keys. The unit is vacant, so you’re free to move in at your earliest convenience.” She opened the envelope slightly to show you the sets of keys. “One for you, and one for your co-tenant, Mr. Charlie Weasley.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Ms. Malfoy,” Isobel affirmed. “Enjoy your stay at Primrose Gardens.”

When you were down the street from Mr. Circelli’s office and looked in all four directions to ensure that you were alone, you let out a victorious whoop alongside a little gallop. You ran out into the streets feeling like you were given a new lease on life—quite literally.

It was a warm, sunny day with perfectly blue skies. Your temperament must’ve had influence on the weather. You walked past waves of Ministry workers fluxing in and out of restaurants on their lunch break. You flirted with the idea of treating yourself, but the reality of now renting the unit on Primrose Gardens meant that your bank account was now deciding how fine your dining was.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned around, trying to locate who was calling your name. The man’s voice sounded garbled in the sea of people.

Before turning back, you scanned the area once again until you saw a tall man push his way forward. He apologised to an elderly lady for passing her too suddenly before waving at you. 

The probability of bumping into Bill Weasley at noon in the core financial district was high. Very high and not at all impossible. Though, the chances of him seeing you in this crowd was low. Bill looked dapper in a suit of all royal blue, his hair slicked back. You surmised that he must’ve been handling affairs in the office today.

“Good afternoon, (Y/N),” Bill greeted. “Fancy bumping into you here. What brings here you on a weekday?”

“I had to finalise some matters at Mr. Circelli’s office,” you responded. “With the application.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “And?”

You dangled the keys in your hands. “I got it.”

Bill shook his head in contentment. “That’s wonderful news, really.” He shifted his sleeves up to read his watch. “Are you hungry? I’d love to hear about the move over lunch. On me, of course.”

Now that Bill mentioned it, it had been an unreasonable length of time between now and breakfast. 

“Yes, I’d love to.”

Bill smiled warmly at you. “I mean, given you’ll become my sister-in-law at some point, might as well get acquainted now.”

You laughed. A fantastic joke by Bill. Who knew he had such a great sense of humour? But when his expression remained unchanged, you halted, body and face frozen. You studied Bill’s expression and it was clear he wasn’t joking; he really thought you were going to be his sister-in-law. 

“Yes, of course,” you said instead. Bill nodded and led you away from the puddle of people. 

When you settled on a quaint cafe on the east edge of the financial district and had your orders taken, you opted to talk about something else. “It’s always nice to see you, Bill. Your time must be so limited nowadays.”

He made a face, a perfect cross between excited and nervous, and took a sip of water. “It’s about to be swallowed whole. Actually, I was just making arrangements at the bank for my leave as well.”

“You’ll be on leave?”

“Paternity leave,” he confirmed your suspicions. “It’ll only be fair to my poor wife. I don’t want her to take on all the duties of child-rearing.”

You smiled. “That’s wonderful of you. I reckon more fathers should do the same.” You stirred your coffee a little. “How are you feeling with the baby coming so soon?”

“Nervous, honestly,” Bill responded. “I’ve been asking everyone for advice. I’ve read all the books but there’s nothing like first-hand experience. Charlie has started asking me questions about it, too.”

“About the baby?”

“About fatherhood,” Bill clarified. “I think the atmosphere at home was getting to him, making him sentimental.” Bill continued. “Mum reckons I’m setting a good example for him. That my being a father will cause him to think more about becoming a father, too. It’s never seemed to be a point of thought until now.” Bill raised his eyebrows suggestively at you, as if you might help make it a reality. 

You were at a loss for words. And a loss for what to do. You couldn’t ask why Bill was making suggestions like your relationship was real, because if this was some elaborate prank, then you didn’t want to be made out to be the fool. But you didn’t want to play along blindly, because, well, that’d net the same result. 

But on the surface, things were cementing themselves as more real than you could’ve wanted. You’d met Charlie’s parents and he’d met yours (in an explosively memorable manner). Strip away that layer of polished goodness and this whole rental unit thing was only happening because he’d kissed you in front of your parents, leading to an argument about your independence, and you acting on your words.

In some twisted form of inception, you were what you imagined Bill imagined you were: Charlie’s serious girlfriend. But the question remained unwavering in your mind: why didn’t Charlie just tell Bill this was all a sham? It wasn't like Bill was going to snitch to your parents; Fred and George were far more culpable in ratting you out. 

You treaded cautiously instead, remaining as vague as possible. “I’m told you and Charlie tell each other everything.”

Bill chuckled. “That’s a given.” He took a sip of his water. “I had quite the laugh when Charlie sent your letter to me. Flew it across the hall at home, actually.”

“My letter?”

“The one where you asked him what he was wearing.”

You pouted. “I was midway through writing when something exploded in the other room.”

“Uh-huh,” Bill sounded with a nod. “I’m sure that’s what happened.”

“I didn’t even finish that sentence!” you defended yourself a little too loudly. “Have a second look at the letter for me, will you, Bill?”

“Sure, just for you, (Y/N).”

You smiled.

“You have a nice smile, (Y/N),” Bill complimented. “I can see what Charlie sees in you.”

You feigned agreement. You were back to being wary of this conversation.

“That’s kind of you, Bill.” You returned his compliment. “So, when do you reckon you’ll see Charlie next?”

“Probably tonight. He’s coming back to set up some things in the nursery.” Bill finished his coffee. “Has he heard the good new yet?”

“No, I just found out an hour ago.”

Bill pressed a finger to his lips. “Well, I won’t spoil anything.”

“You should.” You placed Charlie’s keys on the table, urging Bill to take them. “I don’t trust Fred or George enough to know they’ll be handed off correctly. Would you give them to him for me?”

Confidence.

That was the manner you strode into the manor with your application, stamped with a big, fat ‘approved’ by Mr. Circelli’s assistant, in hand. The sun was setting, signifying it was time for dinner.  As your heels clacked on the marble floor that led to the dining room, a second pair of faint footsteps approached from the opposing end of the hall. And like enemies in some old-school, crackly, black-and white muggle-cowboy film that Fred adored watching at full volume, you stared at Draco who was flush in front of you, ready to draw guns.

“Finally joining us for dinner tonight, are you?” Draco snarled, standing with his hands in this perfectly-pressed pant pockets. “Let me guess, you can’t afford to keep dining out?”

“What are you talking about?” you responded pleasantly. “I’ve been busy preparing for something greater.”

Draco gave you a smug look. “To declare bankruptcy? I thought I heard whispers from the goblins when I was at Gringrotts the other day.”

“Far from it.” You tried to sound sure, but your decision to move out was leaving you in a precarious financial position though you’d never admit it to him. “But you’ll find out at dinner. Patience is a virtue, dear brother.”

With a sprinkle of sibling telepathy, the two of you turned into the hallway at the same time. You strolled inside with your dearest brother, footsteps in tandem. As expected, your parents were already there, waiting for you.

“Lovely of you to join us,” Lucius announced, almost spitting out the last word, hand gripping his chair. “Not faring well out there?”

Beside you, Narcissa clutched your arm, and corrected Lucius’s words. “It’s nice to come home to a freshly-prepared meal, isn’t it?” She directed you to your usual seat. “Have a glass of the red, (Y/N). It’s from one of your father’s colleagues in Spain. It’s delightful.”

You heeded your mother’s calls and sat down to focus on the Spanish red instead. As dinner was served, you waited impatient for a break in the conversation to make your announcement. Your eyes glossed over in boredom as Draco boasted about a promotion he was getting. Less than a month ago, you were sitting in the same seat, strong-armed into entertaining Goyle. That thought still made you want to gag. Two weeks ago, Charlie was here, engaging in banter with your father, kissing you. That was a much happier thought.

 But tonight, you were ready to start life on your own terms.

“What are you doing this week, (Y/N)?” Narcissa asked.

“Well,”—you set your fork down—“my movers are stopping on Wednesday.”

“Your movers?” she asked.

“I’ve found a place at Primrose Gardens. I’m moving out as we discussed last week.”

If silence could kill.

Lucius's voice pitched. “Really?”

“It wasn’t as difficult as it was made out to be, the market,” you dug in. “It seems like your gloomy forecast was simply... wrong.”

Just as your father was about to rebut, your mother stopped him by calling for Dobby to take away everyone’s plates.

When the dishes were cleared and the dining room was returned to its untouched state, you rose out of your seat to head to your room. You assumed everyone had already filed out to withdraw for the night, but you were wrong. Your mother was waiting down the hall. Her lips were pressed in a tight line. 

“Be straight with me, (Y/N),” Narcissa pleaded. “You don’t have to wear this bravado for your brother and father. Is it true you’re moving away?”

“Yes.” 

“And you’re certain you want to?”

“I am.”

You almost flinched when a glint of sadness flashed in her eyes. She was genuine in her plea.

Narcissa began walking down the hall with you before you reached a point of separation: you, upstairs, and her, to the library. She pulled you into a hug. "Whatever happens, remember, there’s always a place at home for you.”

A day before Alicia was to return to America, she offered to help you set up your new place in exchange for a night’s stay before her ship’s departure. You’d invited her to the manor to pack some remaining boxes. And with Fred and George’s help in transporting everything, the move was done quicker than one could say ‘Hollow log, muddy paws, grant me a cauldron full of chocolate frogs.’

“That should be the last of it,” you proclaimed happily, standing at the front door of your new unit. Bright lights washed over the hallway and the faint scent of citrus incense lingered in the air.

You and Alicia walked through the door and down the immediate hallway. The unit was an enclave of natural light, a much-needed escape from the grimness of Malfoy Manor. To your right was a small closet and a guest restroom. The restroom held nothing more than a toilet , a sink, and a mirrow—just enough to freshen up. To your left was a room separated from your room by your connected bathroom. The rest of the hallway tapered off into the airy kitchen and living area. The couch and its complementary coffee table was to the left, and the kitchen on the right. The wall was crafted of glass; it was window that boasted an impressive view of King’s Cross station. 

“Oh, these are just lovely,” you remarked, drifiting towards a flower bouquet in a glass vase on the island. You flicked the attached white card over. “Congratulations on the move,” you read. You inched closer to smell the flowers. The strong scent and cut stems indicated they were fresh.

Most of your boxes were stowed in the living room. You patted down the first set of them, a dull thud resulting from it. “Let’s start here.”

Alicia stepped back and arched her head. “Will this be your study?” she asked, pointing to the first room that Mr. Circelli said was often an office.

You flirted with the idea of lying and simply saying yes, it’d be your study, but how would you keep up the façade when you were eventually going to ask her to help move a bed in?

You shook your head. “Not entirely. It’ll function as a guest bedroom.”

She wiggled her eyebrows, and in a light-hearted manner, she asked: “Who do you intend on having over? Besides me, of course.”

You smiled, keeping your answer vague. Surely, your next response would shut the door to any more of Alicia’s prodding. “Whoever needs a space to stay, I reckon.”

Alicia’s lips pulled down in dissatisfaction. “I like details, like names and reasons. The whole manifesto, if you will.”

“Well.” You huffed as you lifted a box and set it on the kitchen table before listing off names in rapid-fire succession. “You, Angelina, Katie, Fred, George, anyoftheirbrothers, Lee, my cousins, Charlotte and Clara, who often spend a week or two in England, some friends from the country club, like Anabelle, Chrystal…”

Alicia leaned in closer and put a hand behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Fred and George’s brother, who? Ron? Percy?”

“No, that’s not who I meant.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Then who?”

“All I’m saying is that my place is open to anyone who needs to stay. To friends, relatives, and relatives of friends.” You turned away to shield the splotch of pink on your cheek. “Anyway, these boxes will not unpack themselves. We should finish up so you can rest properly for your trip tomorrow.”

Alicia had greater plans in mind. She stood motionless in thought for a second, finger on her lip, then wagged the same finger when she came to a conclusion. “You must mean Charlie. I can’t believe I just glossed over him. I mean, you looked pretty chummy during Lee’s party, but I didn’t know you were—”

“No.” You cut her off sternly and breathed in deeply, trying to force your heart back in rhythm. “Apparently, it’s busy at home with the baby coming, you know, Bill and Fleur’s child.” When Alicia gave a nod of understanding, you continued. “And I’ve been around Fred and George to know that their flat won’t be suitable for long-term accommodations. Not for anyone. I felt terrible. So, I offered him a place to stay if he needed to.”

Alicia pouted. “I guess I won’t be coming over.”

“No!” you deflected. “He’s not staying here permanently, obviously.”

“Sure, we’ll see about that.” Alicia rolled her eyes lightly. She began attaching your curtains to the rods. “Speaking of Charlie, I met Nymphadora, or Tonks, when she was on an assignment to America,” she said. “She was Charlie’s year if I’m remembering right. We had lunch one day, and she told me all about her school years. Charlie made many honourable appearances.”

You cut open a box filled with books, eyes on anywhere but Alicia. “How so?” You did your best to sound disinterested, but on the inside, you were dying to know what he was like in school.

“That every girl wanted to be his potions partner, his transfiguration partner, his… partner in general. I mean, I don’t know him, but think about it. He was Head Boy, the star Quidditch player according to Oliver, and pretty fit. Definitely not bad to look at.”

“Yes, obviously,” you agreed reluctantly. Charlie was all of those things. You were none of them. An uncomfortable tingle stirred in your chest at the thought of it. 

“And that group of women were definitely ogling him from the bar at Lee’s birthday party,” Alicia recalled passively as she drew the curtains back and forth, testing her handiwork. “I remember how fast they flipped when they saw Charlie give you his sweater and when you ran out to handle your important matters, or whatever you yelled to me.”

You looked up, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks, and a faint tingle of pride sparking in your chest. “Really?” 

A sudden whoosh from the fireplace put a halt on your conversation.

“What’s that?” Alicia asked, pulling away from the curtains staring at the flames.

You ran over to the model fireplace, mainly used for communications with no heating function like a regular fireplace would have. “Someone’s ringing me.” You turned to the flames and spoke. “Hello?”

“Hi, (Y/N).”

The man’s voice was muffled by the fire. You inched closer.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Bill Weasley.”

“Bill?” you squeaked. 

“And me!” another voice—Charlie—chimed in, sounding a bit further away.

Alicia paused. It was aurally evident when her knife stopped carving through the tape. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your hands clenching into a fist, knowing the shitstorm of questions that was about to come from Alicia.

“Let us in and we’ll explain,” Charlie said. 

“Okay,” you agreed breathlessly. “Come on in.” At your command, you imagined that the front door had opened and that Charlie and Bill were on their way up. 

Alicia threw her box cutter aside. “(Y/N), what is going on?”

You panicked. “I don’t know.” Bill and Charlie could not have chosen a worse time to prove your point.

“Good afternoon!” Bill’s cheery voice was the first to call out a few minutes later. He was dressed in a similar suit as he was the other day, his wavy hair slicked back, and nothing more than a silver necklace looping around his neck. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice.”

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice. Who would you be to reject them at the door? Now, two Weasley brothers stood in your new, empty home. Bill stood a touch taller than Charlie who looked like he tried his best this morning to brush back his ginger curls. You’d grown so familiar to seeing Fred and George that it was uncanny for them to be swapped away for their old brothers. 

“Bill, this is my friend Alicia,” you introduced. “Alicia, Bill.”

Bill walked over and extended a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Alicia.”

“All the same,” she responded.

“What brings you here?” you asked Bill. “I wish I’d known you were coming. I would’ve gotten something ready.”

Bill chuckled. “I had to see in person what I was writing a referral for.”

“Should I give you a tour?” you offered.

“I’ll let you give Charlie the tour. He’s the one staying here, after all.”

“Of course,” you corrected. 

“Of course,” Alicia repeated, her tone forewarning of a barrage of questions. 

“Well, I’m not staying over tonight, so don’t worry too much about it, (Y/N),” Charlie hummed. He glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got to get to King’s Cross in about half an hour. Luckily, this place isn’t far.”

“Mind if I peek in here, (Y/N)?” Bill asked, gesturing to the empty office.

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

Charlie followed him in. 

“You can tear the wall down temporarily for a door here,” Bill explained to Charlie. “Any building erected after Kingsley’s inauguration into office is pliable for modifications without the risk of structural failure. I’ve checked the code myself. Percy backed me up on it after perusing the law a second time.”

You rushed over in a frenzy. “I’m sorry, what are you tearing down?”

“I’m the co-tenant, so I can do whatever, right, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked sweetly, nearly batting his eyelashes. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. 

Bill explained instead, “There’s no shower in the powder room. Would you be amenable to creating a door from the room to your washroom?”

You dry heaved, thinking about the repair bill that was already on the way. If these two were anywhere as reckless as Fred and George… “Yes, but could we not destroy this place? I’m liable for any damages.”

Bill was first to speak. “I assure you we won’t destroy it. And Charlie will pay for it if I do.”

You shut your eyes and muffled your ears. Peril was a sure thing. Mr. Circelli’s disappointed face flashed in front of your eyes. Even though Bill wasn’t foolhardy, you were too used to false words of comfort from the younger Weasley brothers to believe that he could cleanly sever your walls.

“Done.”

At Bill’s words, you cautiously cracked an eye open, expecting a shroud of smoke and a pile of rubble. To your relief, there was nothing more than an oak door that connected what was now Charlie’s bedroom to your washroom.

“That’s all we’re doing,” Charlie assured, placing a firm hand on where your waist met your back, the action rocking you closer to him. He gently massaged the tense muscles in the region, and in some near whisper that only you could hear, he added: “You can relax now, (Y/N).”

Charlie sidestepped to group again with Bill. “I was thinking of staying over when I come home Friday night. It’s going to be late and I don’t know what Fred and George will be doing, and I don’t intend to know.”

You were half listening, half yearning for his hand on your waist. “That’s fine.”

“Don’t worry about getting anything ready for me,” Charlie added at the door. “I can sleep on any surface as long as it’s quiet.”

“Bye, (Y/N).” Bill smiled as he began to depart, too. “And Charlie’s not a terrible roommate. Take it from someone with almost 29 years of experience.”

Your scalp singed, a sure sign Alicia was staring daggers into the back of your head. When the calamity settled, you slowly scooted to Charlie’s room.

“I guess this futon will have to be in its bed configuration,” you redirected Alicia to help you pull the inside compartment out.

“You’re certain you’re not dating Charlie?” Alicia asked, gripping the frame, guiding it to turn into a full-sized bed. “Or sleeping with him?”

“I’m certain!” 

“You say as you make the bed for him, your co-tenant. You left out that important bit. And I didn’t know you knew Bill.”

“I’ve barely spoken to him before this month.”

“Sure,” Alicia gritted incredulously. “I thought we were friends. And friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“We are friends.”

“If it were me, I’d have gone for Bill,” she mused.

“Alicia! He’s married! And I’m telling Fred you said this.”

Alicia snorted, making you smile.

When the whole suite was dressed and furnished to your liking hours later, you and Alicia swapped away the cardboard and box cutters for a cold, fizzy bottle of champagne and two glass flutes. Stripped down to a silky white nightgown and an eye mask, you laid on the couch giggling and talking until you both fell asleep.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

[hoardofshinythings]

Hauled In To Fandom Kicking and Screaming

Look. I usually dance along the periphery of fandoms, ones I have actually watched the shows of and ones I am literally just in it for one or two good fan fiction writers. It is VERY rare I see a character and it actually makes me want to get in to a fandom. My ADHD/Autism combo makes it hard for me to get in to the mood to watch shows okay? Movies maybe. but series? oh lordy I have been bitten and burned so many times I am gun shy as heck with getting in to watching a show. I have gotten involved with to many shows for them to get axed for attracting the 'wrong' fans (Teen Titans, Motor City), or bizarre choices to take everything that attracted people to the first seasons and toss them in the trash and stick a sexy white woman in peril as the main into it's place. Weirdly specific but the fact it has happened several times is... something (Grimm, Sleepy Hollow). Or later episodes fall down the Stairs of Stupid Out of Character Decisions and Mistakes An Idiot Plot for a Plot Twist. I'm sure at least a few shows popped in your head at that one!

So I am .... reticent.... to get in to anything these days. Enter Eddie Munson.

Look. Stranger Things is in the background of the internet fandom zeitgeist. Okay creepy monsters, 80's, people actually LOOK like they are from the 80's and aren't airbrushed into an inch of their lives. Made a huge splash in its first season then kinda... floated in the background for the next few seasons.

Nothing about it really grabbed me. Looked fun. Not enough to attract my scraggly feral arse.

Then THIS little curly haired muppet man starts showing up on my dashes.

Eddie before disaster.

See. I KNOW this fucker. See I was a wee barely existing bean in the mid 80's. I have a brother who is over a decade older then me who thankfully I grew up having a great relationship with. So he was a TEENAGER during the 80's. Closer to Henderson's age then Munson's during 86. But I look at this fucker, and I KNOW him. Eddie Munson is the cobbled together pieces of my older brothers friend circle. The hair from one. The weed from another. The fashion from a few of them. My brother was more of a Johnathan type fashion and music wise (not personality), but a lot of his buddies were heavy metal or grunge. And more then half of them were in to DnD and comic books. Two of them were always writing or playing an instrument while hanging out at our house or back yard. They gamed at our house or at the drug dealer guys house (I didn't know he was back then cause again, baby wee me, but I remember he did cool smoke ring tricks and got my younger brother and I a huge pile of dinkies, so A+ dude to me) because hey, GUESS WHAT, the Satanic Panic was even a thing in but fuck nowhere Eastern Canada. My dad was Atheist (GASP) and my mom was vaguely Anglican (Sunday every week for socializing) but had logical heads. Mom was scared at first when my older brother got in to DnD, but despite being a early 20's young mother to two toddlers and a teenage step son with the whisper of church ladies in her ears... she sat down and learned about it. Found out it's just creative writing within a group with math. So we were the one place other than the drug dealers house they could have their games without judgement. Obviously our house was nicer so they were over a LOT. Which with it being the 80's, and both our parents busy nurses overworked and always on call, that resulted in a bunch of teenage scrungey boys babysitting tiny me and baby brother while playing DnD, practicing, hanging out, or whatever. I KNOW this fucker. I know Eddie Munson. All the pieces that make him I know them because I grew up with them. I have NEVER had a character give me a whiplash feeling of nostalgia for the past like THIS MOTHERFUCKER. Yes. I got bitch slapped by a blorbo in to watching a show so I can actually tell if the character is written believably (much more elastic then you think) or if the fandom is full of poop.

So I watched short snaps of just his scenes. God dammit he is Like That. Well NOW I have to go back to the beginning of the show because guess fucking what you shit heads. I want to actually try writing fanfiction. I want to making Eddie Munson SUFFER my twisted form of love.

I haven't done that in over 10 years. I've kept up with character writing, but nothing beyond role play games. This FRIGGER is making me dig up so many things from the graveyard of my fandom enjoyment past I may as well accept my new life as a Necromancer.

The show is meh, I know this, but the world has so many options of PROMISE. MUSIC THEMES. the fucking 80's! The characters, once again, do NOT look like airbrushed, they actually look like 80's awkward kids and adults and people. There's mullet's and mens crop tops and short shorts. All on the background of Modern (ish) Suburban Hidden World Fantasy with a good and proper horror twist. Shitty government fuckery. Monsters. Weird powers with no real explanation as to WHY. POTENTIAL!!!! SO yeah. There was a shiny toy in the sandbox (Eddie Munson) and I'm joining in, cat turds and cigarette butts be damned. I am going to try and slap in my observations of each episode as I go. Have fun watching me hate but love it all.

[whenimgoodandready]

🎶If today was your last day, And tomorrow was too late, Could you say goodbye to yesterday? Would you live each moment like your last? Leave old pictures in the past, Donate every dime you have? If today was your last day🎶 Yeah! I went there! I like Nickelback! If you knew I’d put in these lyrics for this finale opening review cuz of the title, then, like Tikki, you deserve a cookie!🍪 So, would you? Would you do all those things the lyrics sang? Did one of the characters do that? Maybe? A lot has happened since the beginning of the season, but the most important one was the time limit Gabe/Monarch set for himself and now, the last amounts of sand in his hourglass of life is finally coming to an end. What was his last act on Earth? You’ll see:

The Last Day

*Part 1:Conformation-Operation Perfect Alliance is the last attempt from Gabe/Monarch and Tomoes villainy and what did it come with? Well, it came with:Adriens worst nightmare from “Sandboy”, a global pandemic of mental manipulation, false projections of happiness, a “kidnapping” of a nonexistent ship, a faceless army of world wide brainwashed mooks, shocking reveals (one of which Marinette failed to pick up on during Feligami’s theatrical act (“Representation”)) and a unification of the two most powerful miraculouses!

———————————————

*Part 2:Re-creation-After 8 years and 5 seasons (and also much complaints of unruly fans everywhere), the final epic showdown between good and evil has finally come at last! The seasonal name changing, Monarch, vs. The combined forces of creation and destruction, Bugnoir, Smackdown! They weren’t the only ones, Su-Han (who FINALLY showed up after almost being gone to fetch “backup”!), The Resistance and the heroes from both specials came in for the big epic battle of them against the world, so we went back and fourth on that. What happened? Weeeeeeellll, let’s just say the latter of the fight was “better” cuz of the outcome of the main fight on hand due to a certain long desired wish happening. FYI, the wish wasn’t about turning garden peas red! Whomp! Whomp! Whoooop! If you wanna know how the final battle went? Let’s just say Marinette should’ve listened to the Kwamies (who by the way transformed into their true mystical (and very accurate) angel forms and became one as “Gimmi” which was pretty badass), followed her own advice from what she told Adrien ((“Revelation”) (sighs) Marinette, next time you think you’re getting through to someone, punch them in face….then face yourself in the face) and how it was vaguely similar to Tobey Maguires Spider-Man and William Dafoes Green Goblins last scene together…….yeah….like that. Guess that means Gabe is a mix of both Mr.Freeze and Green Goblin! How ‘bout that?

R.I.P. (rot in peril) Gabriel Agreste/Hawk Moth/Scarlet Moth/Shadow Moth/Shadow Noir/Monarch/Monarchbug, formally Gabi Grassette, and first villain of “Miraculous Ladybug”🪦The once humble and sane tailor turned heartless monster all cuz he couldn’t bare to live without his loved one. Definitely not like Adrien who was smart to move on and continue to seek happiness elsewhere like Emilie wanted and not be stuck in the past trying to retain what once was and succumbing to madness (like how Bugnoir said) and we’re supposed to believe Gabe’s sacrifice to take Emilies place (which by the way wasn’t even confirmed by Astruc if that was either her or Amelie in the end! Even worse! No emotional reuniting with her and Adrien! :P) was his way of “atoning” for his sins? BULLSH*T! This may have worked on the target demographic audience (ages 6-11), but not on older and mature fans of the show! MmmMm (shakes head) No siree Bob! No amount of “last act of kindness” is gonna be enough to make us forget how he ruthlessly terrorized Paris and horribly mistreated his son! You know who did forget? THE WHOLE WORLD! That’s right! Why the f*ck do you think the ep was called RE-CREATION!!!? Gabe’s wish must’ve not only modified Adrien from only remembering him as a “good” father, but the whole f*cking world (except for a few like Marinette/Ladybug) thinking he was a “hero”! Sh*t! The bastard even got an ugly a** statue of himself when it was said he “helped Ladybug defeat Monarch!”🤮He may have gotten what he wanted, but the only good thing that came out of it was he’s not there to be with Emilie (cuz we all know she would’ve given him a big a** slap in the face for what he did) and he’s finally dead so good riddens to him! Humph! Course being the “righteous” person that she is, Marinette honored his dying words to keep quiet about who he really was for Adrien sake (might make a post on why he (as Cat Noir) wasn’t involved in the epic showdown) Probably cuz in the end, the important thing is there’s no threat anymore what with Gabe’s wish including a utopia and all. No villains, no akumas, no nothing! Just laughter, joy and peace……..for now at least. This shows been renewed for a 6th-8th season (and possibly to 12!), so we’ll be expecting a whole new evil emerging from the shadows and it’s in the form of a “young and highly manipulative compulsive liar who has a multitude of identities to spare!” I’ll see you all next year fellow miraculars. Bug out!

P.S.:I’ll be back for that “Action” thing though

[pearlyanez]

Week 6 - Terminator

The Terminator was released in 1984. The poster for the film featured a powerful and menacing character armed with a gun. This imagery is designed to attract action movie enthusiasts and fans of the sci-fi genre, suggesting a combination of intense action, suspense, and futuristic elements. The poster's visual impact effectively communicates the tone and genre of the film, capturing the attention of potential viewers.

The trailer for the film further enhanced the tone, genre, and overall feel of the movie. Additionally, providing a glimpse into the personality of the iconic character the Terminator, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. It revealed his menacing presence, stoic demeanor, and relentless pursuit of his target. This portrayal made the Terminator an unforgettable and iconic figure in cinema.

Surprisingly Terminator shared similar traits to older movies such as Deep Red from 1975. Both movies revolve around protagonists thrust into dangerous and enigmatic worlds, navigating treacherous landscapes, uncovering secrets, and confronting unexpected challenges. Furthermore, the films establish suspenseful and tense atmospheres, captivating audiences through atmospheric cinematography, intricate suspense sequences, and haunting musical scores.

The film Deep Red follows a musician who becomes entangled in a series of gruesome murders, while Terminator centers around a regular person targeted by a relentless cyborg from the future. Despite their different backgrounds, both protagonists are thrust into unknown circumstances and must adapt to perilous situations. Audiences are captivated as they follow these characters through their hazardous journeys, developing a sense of empathy and engagement.

Furthermore, Deep Red is renowned for its atmospheric cinematography, intricate suspense sequences, and haunting musical score. The film skillfully employs visual and auditory techniques to immerse viewers in a heightened state of suspense throughout the narrative. Similarly, James Cameron's Terminator captivates audiences through relentless pursuit and action-packed sequences. The film's fast-paced nature and constant danger effectively build tension, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats.

At the same time the Terminator was released the Summer Olympics were also being held in Los Angeles. These Olympics served as a significant event in sports history, showcasing exceptional athletic performances and promoting international goodwill and competition. The juxtaposition of the film's intense action, suspense, and futuristic elements with the celebration of human achievement during the Olympics creates an intriguing contrast, reflecting the diverse interests and experiences of audiences during that time.

Post-release, the scholarly resource "Terminator" from the National Film Preservation Board offered an insightful analysis of the film's historical and cultural significance. The document recognizes The Terminator as an enduring icon of popular culture, spawning numerous sequels, spin-offs, and imitations while establishing Arnold Schwarzenegger as a Hollywood action star and James Cameron as a visionary filmmaker. The resource focuses on the film's innovative use of practical effects and stunts, which contributed to the creation of a realistic and relentless cyborg through animatronics, prosthetics, and creative camera work. While the argument presented in the resource successfully showcases the film's impact, it overlooks potential criticisms regarding the glorification of violence and the portrayal of unstoppable characters.

In addition to the resource's emphasis on practical effects, it is worth noting that the integration of CGI in certain scenes played a significant role in enhancing the visual impact of Terminator and pushing the boundaries of filmmaking techniques at the time. Furthermore, the writer in the resource could explore the film's thematic elements and underlying social commentary. For instance, the examination of technology, humanity, and the potential dangers of an increasingly automated future would provide a more comprehensive analysis of the film's significance beyond its surface-level contributions to the genre and industry.

[mytimetravelcollector]

Ben Affleck only regrets one movie: Daredevil. That’s what the actor once told Playboy about the 2003 superhero misstep. “It just kills me,” said Affleck. “I love that story, that character, and the fact that it got f***ed up the way it did stays with me.” Released on 14 February 2003, Daredevil was an attempt at a darker, grittier superhero film – gritty in a pre-Nolan sort of way, at least. It tells the story of blind lawyer Matt Murdock, who avenges his murdered father (that old chestnut) by cleaning up the grubby streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Blinded as a child by toxic goop, Murdock has enhanced senses as an adultre, which manifest as a kind of super-powered radar. Twenty years on from its release, Daredevil looks like a proto-franchise player – an attempt to get a Marvel movie series off the ground before filmmakers had quite figured out the formula. It leaves it an unwieldy if occasionally interesting relic.

Daredevil’s divisive reputation is neatly summed up by its most offending article: Affleck’s fanboy-riling leather suit, which was very much not the spandex version of the source material. Even Charlie Cox, who has played Daredevil since 2015 in both an eponymous Netflix series and the MCU – most recently cameoing in Spider-Man: No Way Home – once commented that “the suit sucks”. What fans didn’t know was that writer-director Mark Steven Johnson had to fight with the studio for any costume. For Johnson – a diehard Daredevil fan – production was “a non-stop battle.” The executives wanted to replicate the success of Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man – released a year earlier – but didn’t understand the Daredevil character. “They didn’t want a costume,” he later said. “They didn’t want horns. They didn’t want anything.”

Like other superhero films, Daredevil was in the works for several years before Affleck finally suited up. Marvel was in financial peril in the 1990s and hadn’t yet started to produce its own films. Film adaptations of their biggest characters stalled. Twentieth Century Fox nabbed the rights to the X-Men in 1993, though the film didn’t reach cinemas until 2000. Sony picked up Spider-Man after a years-long web of complicated rights wrangling. The eventual films, however, were super-sized hits. The Los Angeles Times wrote that “franchise fever” had seized Hollywood.

Twentieth Century Fox had optioned Daredevil in 1997, with Chris Columbus (of Home Alone and Harry Potter fame) in line to direct. When that didn’t work out, Disney flirted with buying the rights but soon dropped out of contention (amusing, considering that Disney now owns Marvel and, subsequently, the rights to Daredevil). The character went to Sony, then New Regency – with Twentieth Century Fox distributing. Johnson, who’d first been hired to write the script at Sony, had to pitch to get back onboard the project. Studio executives were unsure if he was the man for the job. Johnson had written the Grumpy Old Men movies and, at the time, had just one directing credit to his name – the quiet 1998 comedy-drama, Simon Birch.

Kuljit Mithra, who launched the popular Daredevil fansite Man Without Fear back in 1996, tells me that Johnson contacted him at the time. “He said, ‘I’ve got some stuff I want to run by you’,” says Mithra. “Back then, it wasn’t like everybody was an insider! He emailed me storyboards. He sent me all this three years before it was even greenlit. He asked me how it looked.”

Back then, Daredevil was still a niche hero, despite being created by Stan Lee and Bill Everett in 1964, Marvel’s golden age for superhero creation. “I read the comics as a kid,” says Mithra. “As I got older, I noticed that Daredevil was in his own world – he didn’t cross over with a lot of other titles. But he seemed to attract the best writers and artists. They’d always ask to try Daredevil because he was not a high-prestige character. Marvel was like: “Does somebody want to work on this character? We’ll just print it.”

In the 1980s, Daredevil got a gritty reinvention with writer Frank Miller. Mark Steven Johnson drew mostly from Miller’s stories. If anything, says Mithra, the film may follow Frank Miller’s stories – which featured many of Daredevil’s closest allies and villains – a bit too closely. “I think he tried to fit as much as he could in one movie,” says Mithra. “He basically did the whole Frank Miller arc. If he had the space and time of the Netflix show, maybe he could have made it work.”

Before Affleck was cast, the role of Matt Murdock/Daredevil was offered to Vin Diesel, Guy Pearce and Affleck’s real-life BFF Matt Damon. Not everyone loved the idea of Affleck as Daredevil – he was also in the midst of a run of poorly received films, including Pearl Harbor and Gigli – but he was a fan of the comic and a close friend and collaborator of filmmaker and comic-book devotee Kevin Smith. Smith, following films such as Clerks, Mallrats, and Chasing Amy, had even written an acclaimed run of the Daredevil comic, and cameos in the film itself.”

Surrounding Affleck was Jennifer Garner as assassin and love interest Elektra; Colin Farrell as crack shot henchman Bullseye; Michael Clarke Duncan as Wilson Fisk aka Kingpin; and Jon Favreau as Murdock’s lummox lawyer sidekick, Foggy. Favreau later directed Iron Man, the 2008 film that kicked off the Marvel Cinematic Universe and rendered films like Daredevil almost obsolete – mere footnotes in superhero

Clarke Duncan, who died in 2012, was unsure at first about playing the oversized crime lord, Kingpin. “He’s cool,” he once said. “But he’s white.” These days, the casting might cause a meltdown in the most toxic corners of online fandom, but there was no doubt that Clarke Duncan – a 6ft 5in, 300lb powerhouse – was the right man for the job. “Mark Steven Johnson wanted someone who embodied strength,” says Mithra. “All the fan casting was ‘let’s have some gigantic wrestler play the Kingpin’, but you’ve got to have someone who can act.”

Elsewhere, Farrell seems to be having a blast as Bullseye, a petulant, gobby hitman with a target carved into his forehead and who kills people by any means necessary. He’s always mid-flick, whether with knives, paper clips or peanuts. “I want a bloody costume,” Bullseye says at one point, nodding to the fact that his (admittedly daft) costume had been lost in the transition from page to screen. Indeed, these were the days when producers didn’t want to see the proper costumes on their heroes and villains. Look at the Power Ranger-like Green Goblin in Spider-Man, or the leather-clad X-Men. “What would you prefer,” Cyclops asks Wolverine in 2000’s X-Men. “Yellow spandex?” There was a hint of embarrassment about it all. For Johnson – who understood comic book fandom – Daredevil’s costume represented a significant behind-the-scenes battle.

“It was ridiculous,” he said in 2019. “They were like, ‘We’re not going to put a man in devil horns! They call him Daredevil because he does daring things, not because he dresses up like a devil’. I was like, ‘You have to! Otherwise, he’s not Daredevil’.” Eventually, Fox executives conceded on the costume, but then fought Johnson on the colour red. The studio wanted black. They eventually compromised on something in the middle, more or less the colour of blood. Johnson added: “And then some people go, ‘Bah, he’s got a leather costume, that’s bulls***, he should be in spandex. You ruined my childhood’. And I’m like, ‘Dude, you have no idea – I fought so hard just to get horns’.”

Daredevil was initially seen as a modest actioner with a budget of $50m (£41m). The character didn’t have the brand name value to warrant a mega budget. (Producer Gary Foster recalled that whenever he told people he was making a Daredevil film, they thought he meant a biopic about the stunt motorcyclist, Evel Knievel.) But when Spider-Man was released in 2002 and grossed around $800m (£667m) at the global box office, Fox boosted Daredevil’s special effects budget. “They saw what Spider-Man had done at Sony and tried to replicate it,” says Mithra. “Because they really didn’t know Daredevil well. They tried to do the same marketing and promotion – even the soundtrack.”

While Spider-Man plumped for Nickelback, Daredevil is packed with banging, turn-of-the-millennium nu metal, as well as two (!) infamous Evanescence needle drops. To say Daredevil has aged horribly is harsh, but it has aged very specifically. “It’s definitely an early 2000s film!” laughs Mithra. But there is something about Daredevil – a film that moves like Spider-Man but has the darker heart of Tim Burton’s Batman. Particularly good is the “shadow world” effect, which brings Murdock’s radar-like sense to life. The film is also shrewd enough to dump some of the rigmarole of origin stories, belonging to a generation of superhero films that hadn’t figured out how to sidestep the trappings entirely.

When Playboy asked Affleck what went wrong, he replied that it would be “impolite” to say so. Though he admitted that he bears some of the blame: “You can’t divorce yourself and say it was everybody else’s fault and not mine. I was there.”

Like so many films of that time, Daredevil is hamstrung by abysmal CGI. See the decidedly ropey punch-up between Daredevil and Bullseye. A scene in which Daredevil kills (or deliberately doesn’t save) a villain was also criticised by fans – something that no true superhero would do in the comics. “I think that’s part of what upset people,” says Mithra. “It was the big chance to showcase this character and they got it all wrong.”

In 2018, Affleck took a more serious stance. He recalled being less interested in superheroics and more interested in understanding what it felt to be blind. He enlisted the help of a blind actor to follow him on the set and help refine his performance. It would be a nice sentiment – albeit if Matt Murdock wasn’t able to somehow push through his blindness and sense when a beautiful woman is nearby, then follow her down the street even when she’s asked him to leave her alone. The following flirt-off between Murdock and Elektra in a New York playground is soul-curlingly cringeworthy.

The biggest issue, perhaps, is that among the studio politics and behind-the-scenes battles, Johnson had to cut about a quarter of the film. Producers wanted a 100-minute movie. “They cut it down,” says Mithra. “They wanted more showtimes in the theatre – they didn’t want the full version that the director wanted.” Mithra – who’d seen Johnson’s storyboards before production began proper – had a good sense of how the film changed from Johnson’s initial vision. “I could see what didn’t make it,” Mithra says. “He probably [experienced] a lot of studio interference.”

Contrary to its rep, Daredevil was not a flop. From a budget of $75m (£62m), it grossed $179m (£149m). In its opening week in the US, it dominated the box office. The New York Times said it was “passable”, but “too worshipful of the idiom’s conventions. [Johnson’s] affection for the character leaves overly sincere puddles every step of the way.” The Independent didn’t much like it, and thought that Affleck was “a man for whom the word ‘obnoxious’ was surely invented”. The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw argued that Daredevil was “far funnier and gutsier than [2002’s] wimpish Spider-Man”.

Mithra says fan responses to the film were “an even split” between love and hate: “I don’t know anybody who just said, ‘Yeah, it was alright’.” The film didn’t do much to help Daredevil’s mainstream rep, either. “When I told people I run a Daredevil website,” says Mithra, “they’d go, ‘What, about Ben Affleck?! Why?’”

In 2004, a director’s cut of Daredevil was released on DVD, with around 30 minutes of added material: more Kingpin, less schmaltz, and a deeper understanding of Matt Murdock. A year later, a spin-off was released: Elektra, which proved to be one of the first attempts at an interconnected superhero cinematic universe. But it wasn’t confident enough to celebrate its lineage: Affleck filmed a scene, reuniting with Garner, but it was cut. Even a Daredevil spinoff didn’t want anything to do with Daredevil. “They did everything to not say it was a Daredevil sequel,” says Mithra. “They didn’t do any promotion to say it was a continuation. The trailers would always say ‘from the studio that brought you X-Men’.”

It was a curious moment for superhero cinema. After the multi-film successes of X-Men and Spider-Man, Daredevil was part of a run of Marvel standalone projects. All were attempted franchise starters, but none were especially good. “It was way before the MCU,” Johnson later said. “The Marvel characters were all over different studios, but no one quite knew what to do with them.” Also in 2003, Ang Lee directed Hulk – an oddity of early 2000s blockbusters. Then came The Punisher, starring Thomas Jane and John Travolta, followed by two Underrated Fantastic Four films, and the Nicolas Cage-starring Ghost Rider, also written and directed by Johnson. The MCU has made these films feel oddly pointless.

Affleck later said he had “inoculated” himself from playing a superhero again. “Wearing a costume was a source of humiliation for me and something I wouldn’t want to do again soon,” he said while promoting Hollywoodland, a film about the suicide of Superman actor George Reeves. A few years on, he explained that he took the role of Batman in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice to make amends for Daredevil. He wanted to make a superhero film and “do it right”. Ahem.

Still, as an artefact from a very specific time in superhero cinema, Daredevil has its fans. As Johnson explained in 2019: “Sometimes [people] apologize, like, ‘Can I say something? I really like Daredevil’. I’m like, ‘It’s OK, I’m not going to tell anybody!’”