#Even if they can't change though maybe we can give them new experiences too. like sports

[skeletondoggy]

Hey, just wanna say thanks for being cool about the new roommate. Being 5 frilled sharks inhabiting an astronaut suit makes finding a job really hard for them and I think they enjoyed how chill you were. Said they'd love to do hotpot sometime with ya

[ineffable-endearments]

From "And furthermore, I don't think it's our place to start suggesting that there should be a suggestion box!"

I'm not even entertaining the idea that anyone else could possibly have ideas more worthwhile than whatever Heaven's upper brass is telling me God wants. The System is perfect.

to "You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley."

OK, so not everything God does makes moral sense, but that's just because it's too ineffable for us to understand.

to "I don't think that's what God wants. And I don't think you want it, either."

I don't always believe Heaven is right. Something in me is incompatible with the System. I'm hoping there's a greater good than the bureaucracy I work for.

to "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

I'm tacitly admitting that I don't like what Heaven is doing here, but I'm powerless within the System.

to "If I were thwarting you, Heaven couldn't object!"

You've helped me believe Armageddon isn't part of the Ineffable Plan after all. Now I believe I CAN do something to stop it.

to "I have no intention of fighting in any war!"

I'm making my own personal decision here, without consideration for what the System wants.

to "I can make a difference!"

I'm certain that I personally have ideas more worthwhile than the rest of Heaven. I can change the System.

The growth is happening. I know it's slow (well, if you're a human, anyway), but it's happening.

I am wondering if this character development is going to work like a huge outward (inward?) spiral. Take steps to add a new perspective, then use that to start working on the next Big Problem, then circle back to the old problems and start dealing with them with the new perspective. Things are kind of circular, but on a different level every time, hence the spiral.

The first three are like: Refuse questioning Heaven's judgment on moral grounds -> Accept that some questioning is natural but God/Heaven are always right -> Accept that maybe my personal judgment is not always compatible with Heaven's. OK, now I've tentatively accepted that I have my own morality outside of Heaven's, but that is SO uncomfortable.

The second three are like: I have my own moral judgments, but I have no way to enforce them because of what is expected of me -> Maybe there is room for my own judgment in Heaven after all -> Actually, my judgment is important enough to refuse to do what is expected of me regardless of anyone else's Plans. OK, now Aziraphale can use his own judgment within the System.

And I don't know for sure, but maybe - hopefully? - the last three will be like: I trust my own judgment -> My judgment never succeeds when I try to force it on others -> Everyone needs to be free from coercion and I'm going to help that happen by doing things to undermine the System.

That last bit is written with an assumption that the Ball and Gabriel and Beelzebub's ultimate decision are a little bit of foreshadowing: Aziraphale seizing control in a way that is sort of scary, having a bunch of Experiences(TM) with other people including Crowley, then realizing that the only reasonable way to handle people "outside the system" is to let them do what they want. If that's NOT foreshadowing, or if it's different foreshadowing than what I think it's going to be, obviously this is completely off.

Also, I feel like if I'm right, this could illuminate the horrible things Aziraphale says in the Final Fifteen a little bit. I believe he has moved up slightly from thinking Good and Evil are absolutely inherent and immutable, and now believes they are literally Sides that can be chosen. Of course you wouldn't choose to work for the side that has explicitly characterized itself as Bad, even though we both know you didn't have a choice to start with! I'm giving you a choice now! He hasn't "gone backwards." It's just that he's embraced the "doing good is a choice" lesson without internalizing the "you can't divide people into Sides and enforce it using a system" lesson.

[writing-frenzy]

Isekai with the Kurosaki fam; now with some UraIchi spice

So, my brain has been dumping even more ideas for a fandom I can't write for, so I guess I'll dump all the ideas on the ground and sees what happens; also, partly inspired because of DevinePhoenix's Glass Body, Steal Wings and slightly be Cannon Ichigo in AU series by Williamcipher, especially the third of the series, because ye.

Anyways, so for me, I can never imagine Ichigo would part from his sisters and Goat-face easily, even in a normal au, because it's Ichigo's family, his friends, his lost, his life experiences that makes him who he is as a person; if he died and then transferred, a part of me wonders if he would ever try and get back home somehow. So my brain went-

Brain: hey, how about we have a thing that makes the entire family get into an accident :D

Brain: And, like, maybe a day before or when Ichigo was younger, he ended up saving a godly being's most beloved person, so the god is like; hey, I owe you, I'll reincarnate your family into my world; thing is, the world the god has is maybe connected in a way to an anime/webnovel/comic one of the girls or Ichigo's friends were reading, and Ichigo knows it because he was convinced to watch/read it as bonding.

It's a world of magic and fantasy, where words and names have power and things go bump in the night ever so easily. Ichigo and his Family find themselves in a cozy little hideaway, all confused but happy and relieved to be alive and with each other. Isshin in this au will be an awkward, not the best father but he loves and he tries, and he just wants the best for all of his children. (He is the unsarcastic B+ parent, because with all the shit in this au coming, Ichigo deserves this).

Isshin in their original world is descended from a sword wielding samurai family, and he's had the forms and everything beaten into him since he was young, and the reason why he never taught Ichigo was because he didn't know how to be a gentle teacher and he never wanted to hurt his boy. (it's why he's always given his children freedom and choice of what they want.) And coming into this new world, this new place, everyone can feel a change in their bodies, can feel power in their veins even if they don't know what to do with it. See, Ichigo's mom had a little something funky with her blood but didn't know it and Isshin is actually a human with spiritual powers but with their original world it never came out, and with the God giving them a boost/perks, everyone is learning how to control themselves first and foremost.

It's after a bit of convincing and Isshin making Ichigo promise to tell him if he's going too hard that he starts teaching him the family style, along with others in scrolls with phantom teachers to guide them along. It is rough, it is harsh, but it's Ichigo so he pushes on through and becomes better for it. (The two do agree to see if they can find better teachers for the girls though, as Karin wouldn't suit this style even if she would be good with a sword, and Yuzu seems like she would be better with magic then a blade.)

The family of four spends like three years here, learning all they can, devouring every book and all they can remember of the OG!Story of this place before they all have exhausted all the sources and knowledge of the cottage, can no longer progress in their skills as they have been, and had enough cabin fever to drive any sane person down the river. But they're not stupid, so first things first, Isshin scouting at first, then with his son, before him and Ichigo take turns exploring and scouting the area because they don't like leaving the twins alone. But as they're getting a lay of the land and comparing maps and such to reality, even getting a feel for their new magic gadgets and all, they come across monsters and such here and there Once Isshin is sure that Ichigo can handle himself, its only then they spilt so one can stay with the girls while the other explores for a few days, even if Ichigo is only allowed to do it for two days to his father's week.

After that, packing everything they need into magic bags and hammer space, the family takes one last look to their home of all these years, bows in thanks before they are off. It's not long till they join a trade caravan, Isshin trading his skills as a doctor to do so. They travel around for a bit, before in the end, they settle down in a bustling, safe city that never fell in the story, even if the story's protagonist and gang lives here with all their wacky and troubling hijinxs.

So, now that backstory and such is out of the way, let's get to some of the fun stuff. :3

Ichigo does not realize just how strong he actually is; see, in this world of magic and stuff, swords are... technically considered obsolete; of sure, in the story there is a Magic Swordman who is part of the Protagonist's party, but even there they mostly use the sword as fancy focus then to actually fight with it. But with the way Ichigo was trained, as well as both his and his father's lack of common sense for this world, for them it is as easy to cut down a monster as it is to cut down spells themselves. Neither Ichigo or Isshin understand how insane that is, because once a spell is out, you usually have to dodge it or hope it hits someone else if you can't counterspell it.

The Kurosaki's also avoid the Protag and his crew; lets not get involved in your drama, please and thank you (lol, just had the thought of how protective Isshin and Ichigo would get if the story was with a Harem Protag; both would be protective as heck over the twins because with either reverse or regular harem, girls usually get the shit end of the stick). Ichigo is just fine how he is, even if he keeps getting into fights because of random assholes, his charm flowing out and getting his own loyal friends without his knowing. Karin is way too interested in magical sports to care not to mention her age while Yuzu is getting fascinated by potions, alchemy, and cooking to care.

One day, after Ichigo has been feeding some tidbits to some strays, he finds what seems to be a tea and candy shop, with books to read. it doesn't have much business, being out of the way like it is, but there is the occasional regular coming out. Ichigo shrugs, he has time and so he enters this Urahara Shoten.

Somehow, someway, he ends up making friends with Geta-boshi, who as frustrating as he is, recommends good books and a listening ear. Things lead to one things, stuff happens, and Ichigo finds out this guy also has sword.

Sparring partner acquired, though it takes some convincing, a bit of bribing, but Ichigo is able to get the other to agree; he gets his ass beat easily, but Urahara is a harsh, but good teacher, and so Ichigo just thrives in the challenge.

As for Urahara, this guy is so fucking terrifying, just like in canon, how he is assassin sharp and quick with his blade even as he can spellcast at the same time, just watching Ichigo cut through his spells to meet his blade.

Kisuke: this is the most fun I've had in ages :D I wonder what else he can do if I don't tell him what's impossible.

These two end up getting involved in some harsh canon event disasters, Ichigo fighting with Kisuke, knowing the other man won't let him down. Kisuke, having someone he can trust lead the way, knowing, having faith the other can survive alongside him...

Just, these two bonding, getting closer, Ichigo introducing his sisters and Goat-Face who is giving that weird stare.

(On Isshin's part, he recognizes what's going on, and for all that he is not going to be a hypocrite, is not going to kick this Urahara guy as hard as he can and hide Ichigo away, he suddenly... completely understands Misaki's family's cold and hard stares as he had gotten, watching how the elder blond stares at his 20 year old son like he is sun, like he can't believe there is any light in his life again after being shadowed so long. He's pretty sure that is the same stare he had given Misaki as well, just as how Ichigo looks softer, warmer, happier the minute that Urahara guy stays by his side, just how his mother would melt around him despite her expression never changing.

So, Isshin won't say anything, especially since he can tell neither has a clue... but he will be doing the protective, embarrassing Father as much as he wants.)

So yeah, this is the idea :3 I also have another idea with a Mob Protagonist!Ichigo, where he comes to be a character never even mentioned in a story, and ends up charming local shop owner Urahara Kisuke, who is secretly the terrible, scary Puppet Master Benihime without knowing it. maybe I'll note it out when I feel like it, though if people want, they can ask questions about it.

[the-therapist-needs-therapy]

Experiences

Pairing : Lee Jihoon x Reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : Jihoon has slight commitment issues

Even the best lyricist needs inspiration to make his piece better, which is why Jihoon comes to you when he feels that his latest song needs more life to it.

"I feel like it's missing something," you say, tapping your pen on the notepad. "It needs a soul."

"I know right? I feel like it's too bland," Jihoon replies, a visible line appearing on his forehead as he bites his lip. "I think I'm done for."

"Hey, hey, quit the negative thoughts. What's this song about?" you ask, wanting to know the meaning behind the lyrics in his point of view. That way, maybe you can help him with something.

"It's about new experiences," he says, rubbing his temples to ease the headache he's going through, "Not specific."

You think for a while, and suddenly, a light bulb clicks in your head, "Maybe that's where we need to change a bit. Make it more specific. Give it a genre perhaps?"

He seems to consider your idea for a moment but his face eventually turns back into the scowl he's been wearing for the past 1 hour, "What genre, though? I'm going blank."

"What do your fans expect the most from you?"

"They want me to write something related to romance but that's so hard. I have no experience in dating or love or anything related to romance in the first place," he seems to have given up but you were willing to make this song work. The lyrics were so creative, it seemed almost illegal to give up now.

"I get it now," you clap your hands, "The song doesn't need a soul. It's you. You need a life outside of music."

Jihoon looks offended for a moment. "I do have a life outside of music," he protests, "I have you. That's enough for me."

Your cheeks turn bright red at his answer. How can he be so straight-forward?

"Having one best friend doesn't count. You need a girlfriend."

"Can't you be my girlfriend?"

Your heart skips a bit before you clear your throat, "I don't think that's how it works. You need to like me first"

He thinks for a moment, "I like you alright. I get butterflies in the stomach all the time talking to you. I just don't know if I like you enough."

You laugh, finally understanding the real problem in his situation, "You're afraid of commitment, right?"

"Yeah, that's probably it but," he takes a deep breath before continuing, "If it's you I wouldn't be that afraid."

"I wouldn't mind dating you either," you see Jihoon's face turn red and you know yours had to be redder than his.

"Yeah, so um do you perhaps wanna go on a date," he asks and when it takes a moment for you to answer he starts waving his hands frantically, "Not forcing you or anything. It's totally your wish."

He's such a liar, you think, he says he doesn't have experience in romance but he seems to make your heart do all kinds of jumps and leaps and skips but definitely in a good way.

"I would like that," you finally reply after what seemed like decades, and it brings a smile on Jihoon's face.

"I'll........ text you then," he grabs his things from your desk and puts them back in his bag. You watch him leave, not knowing what to say. It was amusing how things took an unexpected turn today. You just got yourself a date with the Lee Jihoon. You should be squealing all night until someone knocked some sense into you.

Outside your door, Jihoon has a hand on his chest. What was with his heart when it's around you? Why did it seem to run a marathon on it's own? Nevertheless, he couldn't help the smile on his face.

[asrichin]

Childhood friends. // H.Yachi

cw. nothing, yn and yachi being friends from their meetup as a 4years old kid, pure fluff. (f!reader) :))

Yachi always have a trouble of making friends. She dislike the way she stutters, the way her face get red from embarrassement just because she doesn't know what to say as well as afraid of scaring people away.

But one thing for sure, it won't stop her from going to her favorite place— the playground. Her mom have told her, that it's a place that's has many kids she could be friends with (if it wasn't for her shyness).

So every evening, Yachi would bike her way to the playground. In hopes, to find someone to be her friend.

And today isn't any different.

“mooomm,playgroundd ?” Yachi's mom hummed in response while she put away the plate she just had washed. When she turned her back to see her 4years old child, Yachi peeking from the wall. “give me 3minutes,okay?” she said to Yachi, before walking towards the bedroom to get ready.

As the sunshine shines, Yachi rushed to the garage to take her bicycle. Today's seems like things will go great! Hopefully. Yesterday wasn't, since she felt at a mud because it was raining that evening. Then, she heard her mother calling out for her, signalling they will go to the playground. Yeay!

“momm, do you think I'll get friends today?” Yachi asked, getting up on her bike with her mom putting the helmet on her head as she heard a click from it. “of course,Im sure you'll make some friends at the playground,love.” her mom replied casually, yet the motherly love linger around her words.

When Yachi finally got to the playground, excited, running to the playground. It was fun, even if it felt lonely though surrounded by kids the same age with her. At last, it's almost getting late. So she'll be needing to go back to her mom.

That was until someone bumped into her, making Yachi fall on her butt. “ouch!” she winces, looking up just to see a girl. “im sorry! I didn't meant to—” the girl quickly apologize, trying to help Yachi get up with her hands. Suddenly, Yachi remembered something.

Friends. Now it's the time!

1st. Ask for their name.

“what's your name?” Yachi blurted out, forgetting the pain that she experience now. As she have the opportunity to (actually) make a friend today! “yn. My name's yn!” you said, apologetic, afraid of what the blonde girl getting upset and also the randomness—but that doesn't matter,right?

2nd. Ask them to be your friend. (Do not freak them out.)

The blonde girl accepted your help, as you waited for her to stand up. Just to see her smile getting much wider than before, does this girl enjoy pain? Or— “let's be friends!” Yachi exclaimed, beaming with excitement. Clasping your hands with hers in the process. “uh,okay!” you replied, trying to match with her enthusiasm.

3rd. Spend time with them.

“Yachi!” her mom called out to her from afar, so they could go back home. Besides, the other children are already on their way to go back home, and you too infact. While Yachi looked at her mom then back at you. “Can we meet again?” she asked hurriedly, trying to signal her mom she's coming. “sure, let's meet up again!” you answered, as Yachi nodded before hurrying off to her mom.

Wait. You don't know her name though—

Maybe she'll come again tomorrow,right ?

—

“moomm, playground?” Yachi's voice can be heard from her bedroom, rushing to her mom. “Im sorry Yachi, but today we can't go to the playground,dear.” what? Yachi was confused, is it about something else? Does mom have work to do? “whyy?” she frowns, clinging onto her mom's leg.

“Yachi wants to go the playgroundd..” she pleaded, with her puppy eyes. But this time, nothing can change her mother's mind.

Yachi made a new friend yesterday,

Yachi wants to see yn.

It took a toll on Yachi's emotions, what if you leave her? Oh c'mon! She just made a new frieeenddd... But don't worry, she does come back tomorrow. Just Yachi being emotional whenever it's about her friends since she rarely have one (that actually stayed.)

This time, she had upgraded her bicycle! Well, her mom had to go to grocery shopping, so she asked (begged) her mom for a bicycle bell!

Yachi's excitement was radiating. Surely, she was very excited to see yn, after a day (which is long,in her opinion.) and they can spend time together!

ring! ring!

Yachi tested the bell out, while her mom is trying to set it on her bike after a few attempts and the rain was quite heavy. When will the rain stop? It been 2 hours, and god, it was raining cats and dogs. “there, done.” her mom smiled, looking at Yachi, who seems in her thoughts while watching the rain. “guess you'll see your friend tomorrow, sweetheart. I don't think they'll go to the playground since it's pouring out there.” Yachi's frown deepens, seriously?

After awhile, the rain finally started to cool down. And by that means, Yachi immediately rushed to the garage, taking her bicycle out in the front yard and ride it on. Riding in circle while she looked around, boringly. How she wished her friend was there, to play with her instead.

But there's always ‘tomorrow’. That's what Yachi's mom tells her whenever bad things occurs, oh well.

—

“mom?” Yachi called out, running outside. Since her mom was flowering the plants, it's apart of a routine. “can we go to the playground this evening?” she asked, tiptoeing to take a better look at her mom while leaning onto the porch. “sure, do you wanna take your bicycle there as usual?” “mhm!” yachi nodded, with a grin.

As she bikes her bicycle, smiling ear to ear. Only god knows how this blonde girl is excited to see her friend! apparently, the playground also seems to be more cheerful than usual. “wait.” sudden realization hit her, how is she gonna find yn? Ohh, this is hard.

She sat there, still on her bike while her mom goes down to sit on a bench—and talk to the other mothers. Before she heard someone talking “whoa, that bell is pretty! It must be new,right?” she turned her head as fast as she could, to be greeted by you. “im sorry for not coming! My mom was busy yesterday and yesterday!!” yachi spoke, guilty of what she did. “oh, it's fine—i actually live down the street so it's no biggie!” you assured her.

And that's how you both become officially friends.

—

“Hey,Yachi?” you spoke, touching the old pink bicycle. It's rusty, unused for a long time even. Yet, it's nostalgic within how you guys always bike together especially to the store down the street to buy ice pops. “yeah?”

“isn't this the bicycle you always bike around the street with me?” the bicycle even make a creak noise when you tried to sit on it for fun, oh—that's a lil concerning. “oh,that?” yachi stopped arranging her things in a box, to look at the old bicycle with contemplated look.

“dont you want to like..sell it or give it to a kid nearby? It'll take up the space in your garage y'know?” you asked, checking the tires of the bike, shit, it's even flatter than yachi's chest. She must hadn't used it for years.

“nope, I'll keep it.” yachi replied, going back to arranging her things. ‘besides, it reminded me of you.’ she thought to herself, humming to the song that you picked while helping her out, cleaning her garage.

It's hard to make real friends in Yachi's opinion, and she didn't regret one bit that she had to experience the pain on her butt because you bumped her. Afterall, in the end, you will be by her side and always will.

Moodboard. << just an extra!! \(^u^\)

[augustjustice]

you wanna feel how it feels (let's exchange the experience) 4/?

Part 3 | AO3

Notes: We're back with more bodyswapping shenaningans, and an added round of basketball this time! This chapter turned into quite a lengthy one, so I hope y'all enjoy.

“So, uh…what exactly are we planning to tell the sheepies here when I fail the strength check and completely destroy my image as Steve Harrington, basketball star?” Eddie asked. 

He was back in the driver’s seat of the Beemer, parked out front at the Sinclair’s place while Lucas and Erica changed into whatever constituted more basketball court appropriate attire inside. Once the kids had finished up at the arcade, they’d headed straight over, Nancy being a total star and agreeing to chauffeur Dustin home before heading back to the Wheelers. …Something that was probably all for the best, really. Eddie was still pretty steamed at those two for the way they’d acted towards Steve–him as Steve, anyway–and he wasn’t quite sure what might have come spilling out of his mouth, if he got half a second with either of them alone. 

“...The strength check?” Steve repeated, face scrunching up with confusion.

“Oh, uh…if I roll a Nat 1 on any athletic feats I’m expected to pull off. Which, let’s face it. I’m probably going to.” When Steve’s expression failed to clear, Eddie explained, “D1 as in, you know…D&D.”

“Ohhh,” Steve breathed out in realization. His brow remained pinched, though, a sliver of tongue flicking out to trace his bottom lip as he clearly processed this new information. “Right, so like. D20 is winning the championship, which makes D1 basically…what, completely blowing the game before you've even made it to half time?”

“...Stevie, man, you know me well enough by now to know I don't have a single fucking clue how to answer that.”

Steve flapped a hand at him, blowing out a dismissive psst through his teeth. 

“You're not gonna blow it, dude. Alright? You've got me here, Hawkins very own former basketball co-captain, to talk you through it. Plus, I mean,” he gave Eddie’s hip what was presumably meant to be an encouraging couple of slaps, “you've also got the added bonus of having my muscle memory on your side. All-star combination, no chance you can miss.”

Eddie shook his head with a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, ye of way too much faith. Need I remind you, dear Steven, I couldn't even catch the keys you threw at me this morning. Where exactly were all those stellar jock reflexes of yours then?”

“Huh. That’s a good point. But maybe it's like, uh…what do they call it? Mind over matter!” Steve snapped his fingers triumphantly, face lighting up. “All you need to do is just, you know…move the goal post on your expectations a little bit. Because there's no way I couldn't have made that catch. But you didn't think you could do it, and then you didn't. So just…I don’t know, tell the voice in your head that says you can't to knock it off, and then you'll have it in no time.”

He could feel the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, an endeared smile blooming across his face no matter how hard he tried to resist. “Harrington…did you just give me a pep talk?”

“I mean, I'm kinda like your coach now, dude. Hate to break it to you, but pep talks come with the territory.” Then Steve let out a quick sigh, running a hand up and over Eddie’s hair–he was getting a lot better already at remembering to dodge snagging his fingers in the curls. “Look, Eds, you can’t miss this. Alright? It’s…seriously really important to Lucas. I know you hate sports, or whatever, but–just give it a chance, yeah? You never know. Maybe it won’t be as terrible as you think.” 

“I don’t hate them,” Eddie protested defensively.

Steve’s only response was to cock an eyebrow, sending Eddie a single skeptical and devastatingly sardonic look.

And…yeah, okay. That was fair. It’d only been a few hours ago that he’d reacted to Steve using his mouth to spew sports lingo with all the horror of someone being given a wet willy. 

“I don’t!” he insisted more vehemently.

And, evidence to the contrary, it was true. Sure, sports weren’t his thing, but he sure as shit didn’t hate them. How could he, when it was something Steve was so passionate about? 

“I just–fuck, I just really don’t get it, man. It’s kinda like–you with D&D, if that makes sense? You don’t loathe it or anything, sure, but it’s not exactly like you’re rushing out to try it either. I mean, yours truly can’t even talk you into sitting in on one session of our campaign.” 

Shit. Eddie hadn’t quite meant to just–blurt out how he was feeling about the whole situation that way. But he’d always been crap at wearing his emotions anywhere other than right on his sleeve, like they were the latest patch adorned to his battle jacket. 

And the truth was, it really did sting, a little, that maybe Steve just…couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when it came to the things Eddie was interested in. Even more so, he guessed, because that didn’t seem much like the Steve Eddie had gotten to know over the past month or so. 

He saw the lengths Steve was willing to go for his friends–literally to hell and back. A silly D&D session should be nothing, in comparison. 

But then, if that was the case–why wasn’t Steve willing to even drop in and just watch the Hellfire Club play?

Strained silence fell over the car. When Eddie glanced over at him, Steve was shuffling guiltily in his seat. 

“I wasn’t trying to be an ass, man. I just–shit,” he sucked in a breath, feeling off-balance, “you wanna clue me in on exactly what’s going on in your head over there, big boy?”

“...I have tried it,” Steve admitted with an apologetic wince, “with Erica.”

Eddie’s response was automatic–he clutched his chest, as if Steve had delivered a fatal blow. 

…To be fair, the shock of the statement did kinda make him feel like he’d been suddenly mortally wounded. 

“Steven! The sheer…betrayal!” he gasped out. “How could you forsake me in this way?”

“Hey, dude, come on, I didn’t even really know you when I played before!” 

“And yet, you haven’t joined in on a single game since. For shame,” Eddie tsked, falling back on theatrics to cover up any trace of real disappointment he felt. 

“Listen, I’m telling you, I had no choice! According to Erica, she didn’t have enough ‘nerdy’ friends to talk into playing. And, Eddie, it was so obvious she was feeling down about it. You know what Erica’s usually like, she doesn’t let any of us in on what’s eating her. So, me and Robin and Dustin, we all agreed to run like a…like a one shot? Is that what they’re called? With her.”

The hurt from before faded some, melting like snow at the inescapable warmth that bubbled up in Eddie’s chest. Doing it for Lady Erica–that was certainly a cause he could get behind. And of course it had been cheering up the youngest Sinclair that convinced Steve to join–what could be more par for the course, when it came to Hawkins’ babysitter extraordinaire? 

“Yeah, man,” Eddie reassured him. “One shots are what you call it when you plan a game that only lasts for a single session.”

“That’s the one, then,” Steve huffed out a sheepish laugh. “To be honest, I sort of blew at it, dude. There’s just like…a ton of math to keep track of? Which, you might have noticed from all the questions, not exactly great at that. And then there’s so much other little shit to remember on top of it. Erica roasted me to hell and back afterwards. Totally worth it, though, seeing what a blast she had.” 

“Shit, man, I can only fucking imagine. She’s a savage, when she wants to be.” Eddie couldn’t help but ask, “Did you have any fun with it, Harrington?” 

“I mean…yeah, it was a pretty good time. Not my favorite thing in the world, or anything, but not bad. But it wasn’t, like. A serious game, you know? Not like the stuff you do.”

Eddie rocked back and forth in his seat, drumming a mindless rhythm against the steering wheel, taking it in. “And you wouldn’t be into that? Something that felt…more hardcore?”

Steve hummed, noncommittal. “I mean…I guess not? You, and the other guys, and the little numbskulls…Hellfire is like, your thing, yeah? I don’t want to mess that up for you guys, and I’m pretty sure I’d just slow shit way down for everybody. Besides, after what happened today, I think it’s pretty safe to say–Dustin and Mike don’t really have the patience for that. Not during a ‘real’ game, or whatever. I’ve got a feeling Gareth and Jeff and Frankie wouldn’t exactly love having me there, either.”

…Steve had him there. This morning had definitely opened Eddie’s eyes to at least one clear source of Steve’s reluctance to play. 

“I wouldn’t let any of the guys get away with that shit, the kind of stuff Henderson and Wheeler tried to pull today. You know that, right? The usual sort of good-natured ribbing, sure, but…not acting like total jackasses to you, or anybody,” he scoffed, a low, disparaging sound, at the mere thought. He dared those little shits to even try it. “Hell, it wouldn’t even help them out in the long run, anyway. At the end of the day, D&D is all about working together with your party, not tearing each other down or turning on each other.”

“Yeah, but…how much fun would you really have, dealing with some guy who’s barely got a clue what’s going on gumming up the works?” The thin smile Steve sent him was knowing, a total gotcha!

“For starters, the same logic as your pep talk? Totally applies here. No way in hell you’re gonna ruin things just by joining in, dude. Besides…can’t exactly remember ever having a bad time when you were around, Stevie.” 

Steve softened at that, eyes going warm and fond. And though they weren’t as pretty as the golden-flecked hazel ones Eddie was used to staring into, the lightness in them made them shine just that little bit brighter, looking like Steve’s all the same. 

“Okay, Eds,” he relented. “Do this for Lucas, and I promise I’ll play with you and the Hellfire guys. At least one time.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, good sir.” 

Spitting into his palm, Eddie thrust out his hand to shake.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Steve murmured…but then, did the same, sealing the deal with the time-honored binding agent of their mixed saliva.

They shook once, and Eddie didn’t quite manage to bite back his cackle when, as soon as their hands parted, Steve’s face crinkled into a disgusted grimace.  

“Ew,” he intoned flatly.

“It’s your spit,” Eddie pointed out, still snickering.

“Yeah, and? What difference does that make? Still gross, dude.”

With the clear intent to wipe his palm clean, Steve reached for the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans. 

“Not the bandana!” he shouted before Steve managed to free it. “You can’t sully that, man. It completes the whole look.”

With a roll of his eyes, Steve shrugged and then drug his hand down one leg of the black denim he was wearing instead. Then, for good measure, he grabbed Eddie’s wrist and repeated the motion–still on Eddie’s jeans. 

Before Eddie could protest, Steve cut him off with a quick, “Your idea, dude…so. Your clothes are the ones that get to suffer for it.”

“I mean, to be honest? That whole thing was totally for show. I was already planning on joining in on your sports games for Sinclair anyway. Otherwise, why the hell would I even be here? But, since you offered an exchange…” he shot Steve a toothy grin, “the contract is now legally binding.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, looking entirely nonplussed. “Whatever you say, Eds.”

Eddie gave a full-body shimmy at the thought, unable to contain his excitement. “You’re gonna totally fucking love it, Stevie! I promise. Hell, I’ll make a one-shot campaign just for you.”

That got Steve’s face to snap back to him, blinking over with wide, startled eyes. Eddie still didn’t quite see the Bambi comparison his friend sometimes liked to make, but…now with this fresh outsider’s perspective, he could admit that his eyes did look kind of ridiculously, comically large sometimes.

“Seriously? So you’d actually…what, come up with a whole new idea just for me?”

“Of course I would, man! I want you to, you know. Actually enjoy yourself?”

Eddie didn’t quite get the chance to parse it, the complicated series of expressions Steve seemed to cycle through at that–because the kids were already back, Erica’s demanding yank on the door handle shattering the moment. 

As they climbed inside, he made a show of mimicking Steve’s customary scolding with a quiet, Watch it, watch it. If he practiced it enough, surely he’d hone that particular brand of babysitter instinct Steve had until it became reflex. 

Steve’s gaze stayed settled on him all the while, as they began shuffling onward to the next stage of their latest adventure. He could feel it, heavy and lingering, even if Steve’s eyes flitted away quickly every time he tried to catch him at it. 

But he had seen it anyway, in the seconds before Steve twisted away to stare out the car window. That familiar, quiet look of concentration, scrunching up Steve’s nose and drawing one corner of his mouth downwards into a half-frown. 

Eddie’s cheeks heated slightly–damn blush–at the scrutiny, the knowledge that Steve had been studying him. 

Because the look on his face? 

Despite the topsy-turvy nature of their entire situation, it was like Steve was some part of Eddie for the very first time. 

—

“Is he really gonna play basketball with you and Lucas?”

As soon as they had made it through the Harrington’s front door, Steve had chirped out I’ve got it! and headed straight for the laundry room, on a mission to grab them both something to wear. The clear pep in his step made it obvious he was looking forward to hitting the pavement, or whatever the hell it was called, and managed to quell at least a little of the dread Eddie was valiantly trying to tamp down. What could he say? He’d always found Steve’s enthusiasm infectious like that.  

“Don’t know what you want me to say here, La–Erica,” Eddie shrugged, managing to choke off the instinct to call her by her D&D title. “But, uh…yeah. He totally is.”

Clearly, this answer was deemed unsatisfactory, given the way Erica somehow managed to squint even harder up at him. “I thought the nerds were being stupid before, but now I gotta ask…you two lose a bet?”

Holding up his hand in a three-finger salute, Eddie vowed, “I swear on Dustin’s mother’s life that there was no bet.” 

Sure, the gesture was a little empty, given there was no way in hell he would have ever been a Boy Scout. But Eddie was pretty sure Steve had been, and that had to count for something, right? He’d search the house later if he got the chance, try to come up with some photographic proof.

Now that he thought about it, though, maybe he shouldn’t have been arguing so strongly against the possibility of a bet. He wondered if he and Steve should have jumped on that explanation when they first had a chance. Might have helped to dodge some of this suspicion, or at the very least kept him from having to deal with Erica’s stink eye now. 

“But I thought Eddie hated all that ‘stupid jock stuff,’” Lucas said quietly. There were obvious echoes in the phrasing, words Sinclair wouldn’t have used himself. Instead, he was clearly parroting one of Eddie’s many tirades on the subject. “He says it turns people to the dark side. Like…what happened with Jason.”

Shame coursed through Eddie, powerful as a tidal wave. As if it hadn’t already been painfully obvious all day, here it was, staring him right in the face all over again. The reality that he was at least partially to blame for that particular sense of division among the party. 

Eddie had had to sit by and be dismissed by Dustin all day, just because Steve hadn’t taken the same sort of obsessive interest in nerdy stuff as the rest of the group had. And that was from Steve’s own pseudo-little brother, someone Eddie knew deep down loved Steve fiercely, with everything he had. 

There was no question about it–Eddie’s speeches, his dogmatic loyalty to his interests, the chip on his shoulder that he’d carried throughout high school had all helped, in some way, to fan the flames of that. 

And, sure, Eddie had his reasons to hate the Jasons of the world–reasons that had certainly turned out to be well-founded. But he was learning his lesson all over again. While the Munson Doctrine had been put into place for his and his friends’ protection, as he’d already suspected, it was in desperate need of that major overhaul. For certain parts of it in particular. 

Like his blanket view on all high school athletics, for example. The attitude he’d held of total derision was what got him to say shit like Lucas attending his high school basketball championship game was succumbing to the dark side. 

Because, when it came down to it…wasn’t that just Eddie’s way of trying to force Lucas into a box, get him to conform to a set of rules Eddie had already prescribed for guys like him? Which, if it was, would mean what Eddie had done completely violated the heart of the Munson Doctrine. 

A true sign that, despite his best intentions, Eddie had ended up wielding his own personal code like a weapon, and that weapon had collateral damage. With it, he had hurt the Lucases of the world, the Steves–people who didn’t, at heart, deserve it. Who Eddie had never intended to deal damage to. 

“Eddie’s kinda a dumbass,” Eddie couldn’t help but blurt. 

Lucas eyed him warily, while Erica’s eyes flashed dangerously, like she was at the ready to jump to his defense. Though it touched Eddie’s heart, at the moment, he definitely didn’t need her to take up her weapons in his honor. 

Between his pride and his own personal defense mechanisms, he knew he could be plenty slow on the uptake at times. But when it came to his friends and the stuff that actually mattered, Eddie was always willing to concede when he was the one who’d fucked up.

“Specifically about this sort of thing, I mean. Take me, for example,” he gestured to himself, to Steve. “I’m sure as shit not anything like that son of a bitch Carver, am I?”

“But…you used to be,” Lucas said hesitantly, the pain of the statement writ on his face. Evidence plain and simple that he was struggling with the idea of it, and that he didn’t want to have to hurt Steve by saying so out loud.

And…yeah, Eddie would like to have a word with whoever kept feeding that line to the kids. To anybody, really. Even if the culprit turned out to be Steve himself.

“Yeah, well, rumors of my evil reign of terror have been greatly over-exaggerated. King Steve? Was honestly…not so bad. A little bitchy, sure, but trust me, I didn’t hold a candle to some of those other guys. In fact,” he held up a triumphant finger, his own personal aha! as he laid out the evidence and made his case, “Eddie once told me that Hagan and Carver backed down from doing some of their usual heinous shit because they were worried word was gonna get back to me about it, and they knew I wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Really?” Lucas asked, a trace of hope in his voice.

Eddie laid a hand over his heart, sincere. 

“You have my word, Sinclair. Or…Eddie’s word, if you wanna get technical about it. And he’s uh…shit.” As he gnawed at his bottom lip, his eyes darted to Lucas’s like a skittish crow, sheepish but serious. “Look, he’s really sorry, dude. That he made the guys play during your championship game. A man shouldn’t have to face being deserted by his party during the important stuff.”

“You’re damn right, he shouldn’t,” Erica chimed in, her voice a low, furious undertone. Despite her willingness to defend him earlier, her loyalty to her brother clearly took top spot, true and steadfast. He was pretty surprised she hadn’t razed him to the ground over it already. 

“He actually said that to you?” Lucas asked. That hope was still there, but a shadow of skepticism had now bled into his expression. 

It made Eddie feel a little sick, knowing he had put that look there. Had helped make Lucas question himself, potentially come to see something he loved as…tainted. The very same thing people had been doing to Eddie his entire life.

All he could do was try to make up for it now. 

“He totally did, man. And he’s gonna say it to you too, soon enough. I promise you that.”

“Why?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a grim sort of challenge in his posture. “Are you gonna make him?”

Some part of Eddie wanted to laugh–only because that was so like Steve, and he and the kids both knew it. Sticking up for them. Getting the people around him to follow his lead, to try and right their wrongs and make amends. It was a total Mom move, even if Steve would claim he was just doing his best to keep them from making the same mistakes he had.

Eddie knew, though, that this moment was too serious to make light of.

“Nah. Nah, dude, I’ve just–got a feeling. Eddie and me, we, uh…know each other pretty well by now, so. Call it intuition.”

“Guess you must have rolled a good perception check, if you’re so sure,” Lucas joked, the defensiveness starting to drain out of him. 

The way he said it didn’t chafe, not like Dustin and Mike’s earlier dismissals had. Eddie could feel the difference–Lucas was inviting Steve in on the joke, even if he knew he didn’t totally understand it. Would have been willing to explain it, Eddie bet, if Steve asked. 

Which only made it all the more clear, that trying to balance both, navigate between two different spheres–at the end of the day, that was the way to go about things. Find a happy medium, where no one felt like they had to choose sides, be wholly one way or the other. Eddie’d have to remember to make that a pillar of the new and improved Munson Doctrine. 

After all, he’d much rather break down boxes than just build new ones. 

“I guess, something like that,” Eddie shrugged, trying to adopt that air of easy nonchalance Steve had, about not understanding every little miniscule reference the group made.

“Well, sounds to me like something, or somebody, got through to him.” Cocking her head in the direction Steve had disappeared, Erica eyed Eddie knowingly. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

No sooner had she spoken the words than Steve popped back into the living room, as though he’d been summoned. 

“Think fast,” he called, tossing a balled up pair of shorts and shirt directly at Eddie’s chest. 

Scrambling, Eddie managed to clap one arm against his body, quick enough that he just kept the garments from hitting the floor. 

Realizing what he’d done, he pumped his free hand into the air in a triumphant fist on reflex. Steve grinned, sending him two thumbs up. 

Lucas looked back and forth between them, the smile he wore caught somewhere between amused and puzzled. 

Erica, on the other hand, only rolled her eyes, showing absolutely no signs of confusion. “Okay, enough of all this mushy shit. Can you two hurry the hell up? At this rate, I’ll be as old as you by the time Lucas finally gets to practice.”

Mushy shit? Steve mouthed to Eddie. He shook his head quickly, Steve’s answering shrug saying he was willing to put a pin in it for now. There’d be plenty of time to explain all of that to him later. 

“You heard the lady,” Eddie gestured for Steve to lead the way. 

The sudden smirk that curled over Steve’s lips could only spell trouble. 

“...Race you!” The words were barely out of his mouth before he was off like a shot, headed straight for the Harrington’s staircase. 

“Har–Ha!–Munson, you shameless fucking cheat!” Eddie crowed, sprinting after him. 

Accustomed as he was to being a mess of uncoordinated, gangly limbs, Steve’s broader chest and thick legs still made him feel a bit like he was shambling, propelled forward by his own weight. At least they were basically the same height, so his equilibrium wasn’t completely fucked. He’d have probably ended up sprawled out on the floor, otherwise. 

And even with the cognitive dissonance, there was no doubt that he was faster, in Steve’s body. But, really, it was the sudden boost in upper body strength that actually sealed the deal for him. 

Because once he’d caught up enough to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist and bodily dragged him down a few steps–Steve crying out, Oh, seriously? Fuck you, dude! even as he laughed, bright and unselfconscious–Eddie found himself scrambling the rest of the way up the stairs and, for once in his life, actually finishing a race in first place. 

Maybe he could pull this off after all. 

—

Staring up at the basket on the Hawkins public courts he hadn’t even known existed before today, Eddie swallowed hard, ready to retract any earlier statements he’d made about being confident. 

After their chase up the stairs, they’d changed quickly together in Steve’s room. It was probably a good thing that Steve had been there, in hindsight, a deterrent from Eddie letting his eyes linger on all the bare, golden skin he found himself exposing yet again. 

The problem, of course, was that Steve’s Hawkins High gym uniform left very little to the imagination–the thin gray t-shirt hugging his chest in all the right places, those green athletic shorts impossibly short. Eddie had spent the entire drive out here doing his best not to get distracted by the fact that Steve’s thick, fuzzy thighs were right there, teasing at the periphery of his vision, lest he pop a boner which said tiny shorts would do absolutely nothing to hide. 

Steve was dressed all but identically–though the swim team shirt he’d procured for himself had the sleeves cut off, showcasing every inch of ink sprawled up Eddie’s arms. He kind of couldn’t get over how pale his own legs looked, vulnerable for once to the sizzling, midday sun. 

As soon as they were out of the car, Steve had scooped up the basketball he’d brought along and jogged over to the courts with all the eagerness of a very large, very overenthusiastic golden retriever. By the time Eddie had finally made his way out onto the blacktop, he was already idly–dribbling? fuck, that had to be right, Eddie was almost sure of it–his way down to the nearest basket. 

And even though the borrowed athletic shorts were a bit too baggy, in that moment, Eddie’s body looked uncomfortably natural there, surrounded by balls and hoops on all sides. There was a fluidity in the way Steve moved, a confidence that seemed to override Eddie’s utter lack of athleticism or coordination, more than making up for any of missing skills he’d adamantly refused to help develop over the years. With Steve in control, “Eddie Munson” appeared to the unknowing eye like someone who could actually belong here.

He had no idea how to feel about that. 

When Eddie glanced around, he found Lucas clearly getting ready to join them. But before he had the chance to sprint away from the bleachers where Erica was settling down watch, Steve cupped one hand around his mouth and waved him off with the other, shouting, “Just stand over there for now, Sinclair! That way you’ll have the best view. Steve’s gonna kill two birds with one stone–give you a refresher while, you know, actually teaching me the moves for the first time.”

Ball still clutched in his hands, he then pivoted on his heel, facing the target with his back to Eddie. 

The movement made Eddie freeze in his tracks, the sheer uncertainty about what came next enough to leave him staring, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, at the back of his own head. Steve had had the foresight to pull his hair up and out of the way with one of the seemingly innumerable clips Robin had abandoned at the Harringtons’ place before they’d headed out. Fully caught up in that out of body feeling, Eddie couldn’t help but notice his neck was already starting to go pink from the sun. 

Several long, agonizing beats passed, until finally Steve glanced over his shoulder at him and made a coaxing, come hither motion with his hand. 

“Come on, man. Don’t just leave me hanging. Get your ass in here.”

Despite his hesitance, Eddie shuffled forward, gnawing his bottom lip as reluctance weighed down his every step. 

Once he was within earshot, he hissed out, “Uh, need I remind you…while I may currently be running around in this top-of-the-line athletic bod of yours, Stevie, your knowledge of the arcane rituals of high school sports definitely didn’t stick around. As we’ve established, I don’t know jack shit about basketball.”

Steve scoffed. 

“I know that, Eds. What do you take me for? I’m not an idiot.” Before Eddie had the chance to argue that he would never say that, he was already barrelling on. “Why do you think I told the kid to stay over there? I’ll tell you what to say, step-by-step, while you ‘show’ me how to do it. Then, all you have to do is relay it to Lucas. Easy peasy.” 

Right. Eddie was pretty damn certain things weren't going to be nearly as breezy as Steve made it sound. But, he had already committed, and that was a central part of Eddie’s whole post-brush-with-death pact that he’d made with himself–doing his best not to run out on things. 

“Jesus Christ. Yeah, alright, Harrington. You’ve got me, I’m your eager Padawan. Teach me how to teach you all about those balls and laundry baskets.” 

Pleasure rippled through him when the quip managed to get a snort out of Steve, clearly taking it for the joke it was meant to be. 

“Well, first of all, you’re gonna need to get a lot closer to me than that, dude. How the hell else are you supposed to, you know…actually ‘coach’ me on how to line up a shot?”

While he did as instructed and crossed the distance between them, Eddie still kept a healthy amount of space between them. The look Steve sent him this time was amused, and he shook his head like Eddie was being ridiculous. 

“Seriously, Eds, press up against me. It’s not like I’ve got cooties–not any that aren’t literally yours, at least–and I swear I don’t bite.” The smirk that curled at his lips was all casual, confident Harrington charm, and Eddie found it a little disconcerting his face could even make that expression. “Not too much, anyway, or so I’ve been told.”

Eddie was pretty sure he had a dream like this, once, though without the basketball and with Steve decidedly in his own body at the time. So…nothing like this, not really, but the words were still enough to send a tingle through Eddie from his now perfectly coiffed head to his Nike-clad toe. 

There was probably something decidedly demented about feeling a surge of heat at the sound of his own teasingly suggestive voice. But he had always been weird, proudly so, and there was really no time at present to have a full-blown crisis about it. He could save all that for…later. 

“Shit, man, talk a guy into it, why don’t you,” he muttered. His mouth was running away with him, as always, but in his defense any sense of self-preservation or impulse control he’d had swiftly left the building the moment his chest connected with Steve’s back. 

This close, a few of his own stray flyaways tickled the end of his nose. A mix of cigarette smoke, the off-brand shampoo Wayne got down at Melvald’s, and the Harrington’s expensive laundry detergent wafted through the air, like a perfect blend of him and Steve together. His brain short-circuited a little, not quite sure how to process that particular combination and the hazy feeling it stirred in him. 

“Just watch,” Steve boasted, confident grin still in place. Warmth built between them, seeping beneath the thin gray cotton of their t-shirts, and Eddie was hyperaware of every line and plane of his body against Steve’s as Steve shifted on the balls of his feet. “I’ll convert you into a sports fan in no time.”

What he was doing right now was plenty persuasive, although Eddie didn’t say that. 

“Bold words, big boy, but you can certainly try,” he taunted, though the ways his hands still hovered uncertainly at Steve’s sides undermined any of his brazenness.

“Put your hands on my shoulders for now,” Steve said. So he dutifully laid them in place, marveling, not for the first time, at how big Steve’s hands really were, engulfing Eddie’s own bony frame easily. “I’m gonna get ready to take the shot the wrong way, then I’ll just tell you how to fix it for me. Okay?”

“Totally, man. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

Steve clutched the ball with both his palms, spread about equal distance from the center, and then lifted it over his head as if he was about to shoot. Which looked…completely fine from where Eddie was standing, no different from the dozens of times he’d seen jocks do it when he’d actually managed to make it to gym class. Evidently, though, there was some vital component of a proper battle stance that he was totally eluding him. 

“Dominant hand’s the shooting hand, and then the other’s the one that does all the guiding. You’re a righty, yeah? Which means my right hand should be placed center, fingers spread around the pump, and then my left goes on the side to help line up the shot,” Steve kept his hands in place, though he did squeeze the ball gently, indicating which he meant as he spoke. “You got all that? Lucas should know this, but it doesn’t hurt to get the reminder once in a while, keep him from getting sloppy.”

“Uh…yeah, I think so,” Eddie said, the unsteady waver in his words making Steve’s voice pitch a bit higher than usual. 

Sliding his hands over Steve’s arms, he readjusted his grip accordingly. Steve’s ring-clad knuckles felt cool, engulfed beneath the warm, broad palms he was now sporting, and Eddie couldn’t help but note the way Steve’s fingers spanned out past his former reach. 

“So, uh…dominant hand right down the middle, Munson. Then just put those other magic fingers to the side, and bam! Guide her on home. Got that, champ?” Eddie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth spreading wide and curling with amusement as he tapped into a facsimile of Steve’s ‘Dad’ voice worthy of Leave It to Beaver, if he did say so himself. 

Even as he kept his body pliant, letting Eddie position him accordingly, Steve craned his neck just enough to make sure Eddie caught his eye roll. 

“I do not sound like that,” he muttered pointedly from the side of his mouth. 

“You keep telling yourself that, Stevie boy.” Eddie gave Steve a clap on the back that would look encouraging from a distance. The touchy part of jock culture, at least, was something he could get behind, the one thing that he felt completely natural imitating. 

Next, apparently, before he could just go ahead and throw that silly ass ball, they needed to work on ‘Eddie’s’ stance. That particular step involved a lot of Eddie getting handsy with Steve’s hips, adjusting and readjusting to make sure his feet were pointed straight at the goal post thingy. 

After that, Steve made him literally curve over his back to allegedly make sure that he was bent correctly. His exact words, and Eddie found himself unbelievably happy Steve was turned away from him, couldn’t catch the way Steve’s apparently hair-trigger blush spread over his face at the images that particular suggestion conjured in Eddie’s mind. He’d always suspected sports could get ridiculously horny–the one real point in their favor, honestly, all those sweaty dudes rubbing up against each other–but he was getting an up close and personal education on just how right he had been now. 

“Have we finally positioned my body to suit you, good sir?” Eddie asked, amused, fingers trailing over the small of Steve’s back as he pulled his hand away. 

The smirk was in place again as Steve sent him a quick, there-and-you’ll-miss-it wink. “Watch this.”

With a bounce and a controlled flick of his wrist, Steve tossed the ball. It arced through the air, circling the top of the basket for one long, breathless moment…and then dropped through the net. 

From the sidelines, both Lucas and Erica went wild, whooping and hollering in celebration. 

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Eddie gasped, hand clapping down on the top of his head in complete shock. “Holy shit, man, look at that! Congratu-fucking-lations, you actually did it!”

Steve spun to face him, his grin giddy as he clapped his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and gave him a triumphant little shake. “We did that, dude! That was all you, just–with some training and, you know, a little bit of a helping hand.” 

“Eddie! Dude, you made a three pointer on your first try!” Lucas crowed, voice echoing from the sheer volume of his excitement. 

At Eddie’s questioning look, Steve scuffed his Rebok along the white line painted over the asphalt. “Three point line. What, you think I was gonna miss out on my chance to see what you could actually do with a little time and effort?” Eyes flitting back to the basket, his smile mellowed, turning into something wistful yet pleased. “I may have had a shitty senior year, but–guess I make a pretty damn good coach, after all.” 

Eddie found himself surprisingly chuffed, and he couldn’t quite tell who he felt more pleased for–himself, or Steve. “Damn right you do, Harrington. Best basketball co-captain Hawkins High has ever seen.”

Steve cocked a surprised eyebrow at him. “You actually remembered that I was co-captain?”

Eddie answered with a half-shrug, tossing Steve’s words from earlier in the day back at him with ease. “Hey. I totally do listen when you talk, Harrington.”

Dropping a hand on Eddie’s bicep, Steve gave him a squeeze, a show of what Eddie immediately recognized was brief, silent gratitude. Then, he leaned in to lock eyes with him, tone going serious. “Alrighty, dude. You survived round one. Ready to keep listening to me talk about defense and how to block the other guys on the team from making a perfect shot just like that one?”

“Hell yeah, I am,” he slapped Steve’s hand, completing the high five offered to him. “Let’s do it!” 

—

This time around, Eddie did his best to repeat Steve’s instructions verbatim, goofing around less since this was definitely advice Lucas would need. Steve, for his part, waited until after Eddie had described a maneuver to follow his instructions–putting on the perfect display of cluelessness, like he had had no idea what to do until “Steve” told him.

Unfortunately, blocking was, in Eddie’s opinion, turning out to be way less exciting than shooting practice had been. For one, part of the lesson was learning the right amount of distance to keep between yourself and the other jocks to properly screw up their gameplay…which meant, of course, that Eddie wasn’t getting the same opportunity to drape himself all over Steve as he had before. 

For another, it required way more actual athleticism on Eddie’s part. As the pseudo-coach, he had to try to keep Steve from stealing away the ball–which meant, of course, that he had to have control of that wiley rubber sphere in the first place. That in and of itself proved to be a pretty Herculean task. 

His first few attempts were fumbling at best, complete with heckling from the sidelines about how he must be rusty from not going up against a real competitor lately (Lucas) and getting too rickety for basketball, old man (Erica).

By now, Eddie was well used to the kids and their mouthy ways, and he had certainly never pretended to be anything less than a disaster when it came to feats that required coordination. But–he also actually didn’t want to fuck things up, this time. 

The pressure mounted, and he felt more like an unwieldy seventh grader than the 20–now 19–something he actually was, all knees and elbows after his growth spurt, head ringing after getting pegged with a baseball during a game he definitely wasn’t paying attention to. An entire chorus of doubts started clamoring loudly inside him, making him curse colorfully when he somehow managed to bounce the ball straight into Steve’s hands.

“It’s just like I said before, Eds,” Steve’s voice, quiet and steady, cut through the static of jeering voices that sounded an awful lot like some nightmarish mish-mash of Jason Carver and his dear old dad mixed together. “Don’t overthink it, okay? You’ve got this.” 

With a nod and a deep breath, he did his best to push everything to the back burner and get out of his own head. 

Which, shockingly enough…turned out to work pretty well. It helped, of course, that he’d just had to “teach” Steve to dribble the ball, so he’d gotten a crash course on what to do only minutes before. Between that and Steve’s coaxing, Eddie finally found something like a rhythm, muscle memory making up for what he no doubt lacked in anything resembling good form.

Once that hurdle was behind them, their practice run started going along pretty swimmingly. That was, of course, until…their eagle-eyed audience decided to interject again.

“What the hell are you two talking about over there?” Erica called out, clearly having cottoned on to the fact that, between lessons, they were exchanging way more than just Eddie’s shouted instructions. 

Eddie had to hand it to her, the girl was consistent in her dogged need to understand anything and everything around her–and about as subtle as a mallet to the face when it came to her methods of finding out. 

But, Steve stayed quick on his feet, same as he’d been since the moment they got out here. 

“Hey, I gotta keep Harrington on his toes, right? I mean, what’s any good game without, like…a little smack talk.” 

That, at least, was one thing Eddie could admit that basketball and D&D totally had in common. The physical stuff might have eluded him, but verbal sparring? Now, that he could get behind. 

“Besides,” one corner of Steve’s mouth quirked upward into a confident smirk, “wouldn’t want him getting too comfortable.”

As if to demonstrate his point, Steve perfectly executed the block they had just gone over and stole the ball from Eddie, letting out a breathless laugh as he swiveled around him and headed straight for the basket. 

Eddie released an extremely undignified squawk as he went after Steve, comforting himself with the knowledge that the kids would only hear Steve making such a ridiculous sound. He had to get his revenge where he could take it–especially when his attempt to repeat the action was to no avail, their shoulders jostling together but Steve ultimately sinking the ball into the goal with a triumphant woo-hoo!

“I’m onto you, Harrington,” Eddie pointed at him in accusation, though the gesture was somewhat undermined when he had to bend over and clasp one knee, panting, “you’re having way too much fun with this, aren’t you? Turning me into some kind of basketball prodigy.”

Steve’s answering smile was so wide, it put Eddie’s dimples on full display. 

“Look, dude–don’t be mad just because I’ve figured out how to use this body in ways you haven’t. It’s not my fault you’ve got all this hidden potential, and I’m just tapping into it.” Subtle though it might have been, Eddie didn’t miss the way Steve’s hand ran over the inside of his–Eddie’s–bicep, flexing his arm and then squeezing the muscle there. “You know, I think you totally could have had a shot at making the team if you’d wanted to.”

“Yeah, uh…let’s not get delusional here, Harrington.”

“I’m serious,” Steve cocked an eyebrow, lifting his chin in what might have been an invitation, or a challenge. “What? You mean you wouldn’t want to play for my team?”

Even though Eddie was pretty sure Steve couldn’t possibly realize the implications such a question carried, he still felt a sizzle of heat run through him, and one that had absolutely nothing to do with the scorching sun. 

“Right now I’m pretty sure I’m gunning to join Sinclair’s team. At least he hasn’t been using my body for nefarious purposes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t love to show off. But when I do it, just with a different set of skills, suddenly I’m the bad guy.”

“That you are,” Catching Steve around the neck, Eddie pulled him into a headlock, ruffling his own shaggy mane. Steve’s instinctive Not the hair, man! had Eddie letting him go with a laugh. “Whaddya say?” he nodded to the benches. “Have we taught the young grasshopper all we know?”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Not sure what bugs have got to do with it, but…yeah, I’d say that should do it. Ready as we’re gonna be, all things considered.” Sliding the ball into the crook of his elbow, he clapped his hands together. “Come on, Sinclair, get a move on! You’re up, man.”

“Go on. Show them you mean business, Lucas!” Erica chanted as she lightly shoved her brother’s shoulder, encouraging and cajoling all at once. 

With a quick cheer, Lucas trotted out onto the court to finally join them.

“Alright, buddy,” Steve clapped a hand on the younger teen’s back. “You ready to help me show Harrington how it’s done?”

“Absolutely!” Lucas beamed, clearly pleased by “Eddie’s” sudden show of enthusiasm. “You know, you’re…kinda a lot better than I thought you’d be? No offense.”

“None taken. I mean, what can I say?” he shrugged, faux-modest, though the megawatt grin on his face said otherwise. “Turns out…I’m a total natural.”

“Hey, wait a minute, guys. That is seriously so not fair. How come you two get to gang up on me, huh?” Eddie whined, giving his best approximation of the fatal Harrington pout. 

Steve, apparently, was immune. 

“Sorry, Stevie, you know how it is,” he slung an arm around Lucas’s shoulders in a show of camaraderie. “Us underdogs gotta stick together. Right, Sinclair?”

Eddie huffed, imitating Steve’s signature pfft. “What are you talking about, man? Sinclair’s a total jock, plays for the Tigers and everything. If anything, that means he should be on my team.”

“Aww, guys, knock it off,” Lucas chided, though he was clearly enjoying having them bicker over him, grinning from ear-to-ear. Then, his eyes took on a particularly mischievous glint. “You know how us kids hate it when Mom and Dad fight.” 

“Oh my God, dude! Leave the smart ass comments to Henderson, yeah?” 

“For that alone, I should rescind your invitation to fight at my side, Sinclair!”

Lucas snickered. “Anyway, I’m a nerd and a jock, remember? That means I should get to decide, right? And I gotta side with Eddie on this one.” Turning to Eddie, he gave him an apologetic shrug. “Nothing personal. It just…wouldn’t be right, making him go up against the both of us when he just learned how to play today. You know?” 

“Good man, good man,” Steve chirped. “Right you are, Sinclair. That wouldn’t be cool to do to a newbie like me.” 

Cheater, Eddie mouthed as Lucas trotted ahead of them towards the basket, ready to start the game. 

Steve only laughed, taunting him with one of those infuriatingly teasing little waves. Then he was jogging off, too, easily tapping into that speed Eddie usually reserved for running from mean-spirited meatheads and cops. 

“First to ten wins!” he shouted, smoothly passing the ball to Lucas. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie muttered, struggling to catch up to them. Too slow, he watched in horror as the younger teen sank the ball in an easy slam dunk, Steve flinging his arms into the air with a triumphant Great going, Sinclair!

This was high school PE all over again. One second into his first basketball game, and somehow Eddie was already falling behind. 

—

It was not, for all his initial concerns, quite as dire as PE. 

He did have cause for alarm–but only at first. Steve and Lucas had been out here together for months now, and even if Lucas wasn’t aware of the reason for it, it became pretty obvious that Steve knew all his tells. The pair of them worked together seamlessly, egging each other on, and Steve’s almost sixth sense for when Lucas was open meant they stacked up three points collectively in what felt like the bat of an eye. 

But, as Eddie quickly learned, forming two entirely distinct ‘teams’ wasn’t all that practical, at least not when there were a grand total of three people in play. Because while Lucas and Steve might have started out the game in a loosely-defined team up against him, the boundaries of that quickly dissolved…right around the time that Lucas passed the ball straight to Eddie. 

Distracted by the certainty he was moment’s away from falling another point behind, at the time Eddie had barely had a chance to register that the sound of Sinclair’s voice shouting Steve! Steve! was directed at him. Not before that flash of orange came hurtling towards him, at least. 

But when the ball hit him square in the chest, he actually caught it, the same miracle from the laundry incident somehow managing to play out twice in one day. The only thing that saved him in the aftermath from a determined Steve Harrington barrelling straight for him was the fact that he’d already spent a lifetime running away.

“Sinclair!” Steve cried out in disbelief, slinging one hand emphatically through the air as Eddie’s toss whooshed into the net. The other, of course, came to rest petulantly on his hip. “Come on, dude, what the hell was that?!” 

“Sorry, man.” Out of all the kids–short of El or Will, at least–Lucas’s guileless smile and innocent shrug always managed to look the most convincing, and now was no exception. “What did you want me to do? Just up and betray my coach completely? No way I could ever do that.”

“Well, whaddya know? Jock solidarity saves the day!” Even though that was a string of words he’d also never thought that he would say out loud, Eddie couldn’t help but cackle, grin wide and toothy enough to do the Cheshire Cat proud. “You snooze you lose, Munson!”

He watched as Steve’s jaw clenched, the determined smirk that settled onto his face suggesting that they were all in big trouble. 

“Oh, it is so on!”

After that, allegiances shifted at the drop of a hat, the causes varying from perceived slights like a foul or a fake out, or simply when one of their merry band of players spotted a weakness and saw an opening to take advantage of. Mostly, they each just kept track of their own individual scores, cheering each other on or booing wildly depending entirely upon whose side they happened to be on in that particular moment. 

And while Steve and Lucas might have started out at an advantage, Eddie was quick to catch up. His aim was undeniably kinda shoddy, but scoring came to him pretty much the exact same way that dribbling had–the less he thought about it, the better he was. It was a little disconcerting, that going into autopilot seemed to activate some of Steve’s body’s latent athletic abilities, like a sleeper agent that had been triggered by the right code phrase. The whole thing felt very sci-fi, as if Eddie had gone to sleep and been transformed overnight into the bionic man, with new robotic implementations that could do all sorts of things he never dreamed of before. 

…Which really wasn’t too far off the genre mark, considering conscious-swapping or whatever the hell it was that had happened to them read like a story straight from the stack of pulpy Weird Tales comics Eddie kept stashed under his bed. 

The clear and very deliberate performance Steve was giving didn’t exactly hinder Eddie’s gains, either. While he kept up the appearance of some of the skills he had already cultivated for Eddie, maintaining that image of being surprisingly-good-at-this-for-his-first-time, Eddie noticed Steve fudging things a bit more than he had during their practice. 

Like letting Lucas easily steal the ball away from him before sending a quick wink Eddie’s way. 

Or missing a shot that was practically guaranteed because he tripped over his own feet at the last second, in keeping with Eddie’s trademark klutziness. 

(Although in that last example, Eddie’s body might have actually been to blame. It was kind of hard to tell, from the outside looking in.) 

Whenever Steve–or Lucas, for that matter–did something right, however, Eddie was quick with his praise. Staying in-character, he knew, meant tapping into that same air of confident yet peppy and supportive co-captain Steve had shown himself to be all afternoon.

So when Steve managed what looked like a particularly complicated shot from the three point line, Eddie instantly crowed, “Holy shit, Eds. With moves like that, you’re gonna make me jealous!”

The redness already spilling across Eddie’s pale skin had crept all the way up to his exposed ears, then, and he honestly couldn’t tell if Steve was flushing from the heat or the way Eddie was laying it on so thick. Given Steve’s only answer was to duck his head and knock his shoulder gently against Eddie’s with a quiet Shut up! all he really knew was that he’d say whatever it took to get that kind of reaction out of Steve again.  

Soon after, Lucas had pulled off basically the same move, mimicking Steve exactly–clearly, the kid had been paying attention. 

“Nice one, Sinclair! No way in hell that coach of yours won’t have you off the bench for good in no time.” 

That had earned him a subtle ‘ok’ sign from Steve, clearly pleased that Eddie had managed to use some of their whispered, crash course basketball terminology correctly in a sentence. 

Eddie scored a couple more points himself, and so by the time Steve successfully went in for his next one, he couldn’t resist getting a little cocky and teasing. 

“You can thank my excellent coaching skills for that.” And, because he wasn’t above playing dirty, he punctuated the statement by giving Steve a quick swat on the ass, morbidly curious to see if the color on his ears would deepen. 

…It did, as it turned out, though Steve was quick to recover.

“Uh–yeah, yeah. Clearly you were born to teach, Harrington.” Though he tacked on an eye roll and a put-upon tone, Eddie hadn’t miss the way Steve preened a little after he had said it. 

“Fuck yeah I was!” Snapping his fingers, Eddie shot one of Steve’s dorky finger guns in his direction. “And don’t you forget it.”

The game stayed fast flowing, the points ever changing. One moment, Steve was at 7, Lucas 6, and Eddie trailed behind at 5. But soon Eddie found himself tied for first after two lucky shots in a row. He couldn’t sit easy for long, though, what with Lucas making a sudden comeback to pull ahead of them both. On and on they went, steadily climbing their way towards that winning score, neck and neck all the time. 

Sure, it wasn’t exactly Hellfire, but looking at it as one-to-one combat, its very own system of HP and Ability Scores included and all, he could admit that he was starting to see the appeal. 

…In more ways than one. 

Because unfortunately for Eddie, his little problem from earlier, the one he’d promised himself he’d put a pin in, hadn’t just evaporated once the real game started. Sure, there wasn’t quite as much skin-to-skin contact as there had been in the practice run, but, as it turned out, basketball wasn’t exactly an at-an-arms-length kind of sport. Which meant that Steve was there, more often than not, hovering at Eddie’s back to–usually successfully–block his shots. 

And Eddie was probably a very, very sick man. 

Because the sight of his jock best friend, all sweaty and grinning and glowing with it as he, Jesus H. Christ, pressed right up against him–well. That was enough to leave Eddie riled up and breathless, excited in a not at all sports-appropriate way…despite the fact that Steve was currently running around in his body. 

And, sure, okay, so he regularly popped boners when he saw Steve in this state. But that was different, because that was Steve–lovely, Adonis-like Steve, with his swooping perfect hair and gorgeous hazel eyes and stupidly muscled calves. 

…But, then again, so was this. 

Eddie saw it, in the competitive gleam in Steve’s eyes, the way he kept licking his lips in concentration each and every time he and Eddie squared off. It was there every time Lucas scored a basket, and Steve’s face instantly lit up with naked delight. In every whoop and shout and excited clap of his hands as he cheered them all on, or chant of hustle, hustle, hustle when he felt one of them was lagging behind. Hell, even when he was doing a dorky little victory dance and Eddie had to literally tackle Steve to stop him from embarrassing him and sullying his reputation even further, it was still all he could see. 

He might be hidden behind Eddie's pale skin, disheveled hair, and too wide eyes–but every tic, every word, every silly little gesture made it all too obvious that that was still undeniably Steve, shining out underneath. 

Great, Eddie was probably going to give his own heart a boner next.

So it was really no wonder when it gave a flip, the next time Steve decided to direct some of that earnest, positive attention his way.

“Alright, let’s go, let’s go,” Steve chanted.

He was doing a masterful job of playing keep away between Eddie and the goal. Despite their difference in stature, his chest felt as firm as a wall every time Eddie’s shoulder knocked against it, trying and failing to dodge him. And the sparkle in Steve’s eye, which Eddie caught when he turned to shield the ball from being stolen away like a bounty in the night, made it clear that he wasn’t the only one having fun with their roughhousing. 

“That’s it,” Steve said, half-goading, half-encouraging. “Show me what you got, Harrington.”

“Oh, just you wait. You ain’t seen nothing yet, Munson.”

At the last second, Eddie feinted to the left, swiveling around him and just managing to toss the ball through the net. He wasn’t even going to give Steve’s superhuman physique credit for that one–the fake out was all him, years of evading schoolyard bullies and learning to lean into his own natural noodle-like motions taking over. 

“Check me out!” he hollered, resisting the urge to tack on a Take that, you silly orange sphere!

And despite the fact that Eddie had just outpaced him, Steve was all smiles. “Yeah, you know, you’re looking pretty good out there, champ.” 

Though the last word was tacked on mockingly, clearly a jab at Eddie’s imitation from earlier, the rest of the statement came out in a low, warm tone. That, coupled with the private, pleased look he was sending him, was enough to make a flash of heat run through Eddie, his blood pumping in all the wrong ways. 

Grasping for hair that wasn’t there to chew on, he stuttered out, “I’m, uh–gonna take five real quick.”

Then, with a final jab of his thumb, Eddie scampered off the court, suddenly glad for the bright, mid-afternoon sun to explain away his flush. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if it wasn’t partially to blame. Even in Steve’s body, which was certainly more equipped than Eddie’s would have been to handle all the running and jumping and throwing even practice basketball apparently required, he still found himself winded and panting. So much so he was a tiny bit grateful for the excuse for a water break, as he guzzled from the bottle Erica handed to him.

When he flopped down onto the bench beside her, wiping away the sweat that had gathered at his hairline with the back of his hand, Erica sent him a smug, knowing look. 

“I’m onto you, you know.”

Eddie froze mid-sip, like a deer in the headlights. The soothing cold liquid–which he’d been gulping down like it was the Elixir of Life–now betrayed him, nearly choking him to death. 

“You’re, uh…” he managed to squeak out, hoping the coughing fit would serve as explanation enough for his change in tone. He had to bite his tongue to prevent the shit shit shit that threatened to spill from his lips. “What is it you’re onto now, exactly?”

There, that sounded suitably baffled and low-key exasperated, Steve-like on all fronts. Not suspicious at all. 

If someone could just let his frantic, speeding pulse know that, then he’d be really cooking with gas.

Leaning into him conspiratorially, the perfect posture for sharing secrets, Erica said in a low undertone, “Don’t tell anybody I said this, but it was kinda cute, what you did back there.”

Now, Eddie was totally lost. “Pray tell, what was cute, Baby Sinclair?”

Her face screwed up in an over-the-top display of disgust. “Ew, nevermind, I take it back. You two have been spending way too much time together. Don't ever call me that again.”

Grinning at her dramatics despite himself, Eddie pointed out, “That still doesn't answer my question…Erica.”

Rolling her eyes, letting her exasperation be known, she exclaimed, “I meant the way you memorized all that stuff about Gauntlet to impress Eddie!”

She hadn’t tacked an actual duh onto the end, but he could read between the lines well enough to know it was heavily implied. 

The good news was–one crisis, and the big one at that, had been truly and firmly averted. Clearly, Erica still thought she was talking to Steve. 

The bad news, of course, came from the fact that she wasn’t…and that it definitely had not been Steve, rambling away back at the arcade. No, that had all been Eddie’s own screw up, his inability to keep his mouth shut when it came to his passions getting in the way and threatening to blow their cover. 

So, whatever point Erica was trying to make now–and already, Eddie suspected he might have a sinking suspicion just what that point was–the evidence was stacked against her, even though she didn’t know it.

“But you don't have to try so damn hard, you know. Look.”

Eddie followed Erica's nod to where Steve was currently playing keep away with Lucas, his smile bright and carefree. He was in his element, happy. When he looked like that, Eddie couldn't even remotely pretend to be annoyed at Steve for using his body for jock purposes. 

“Clearly, he likes you.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, like she accepted the truth of it as easily as the sky being blue and Hawkins being overrun by monsters on an annual basis.  

An overwhelming surge of affection swelled in him for the tiny, badass girl beside him. He was touched by the nonchalance of it, the way she was discussing her babysitters, two guys, possibly having crushes on each other without so much as batting an eye. 

Enough so that, just for a second, he let himself get lost in the moment. “That so? I mean…you really think he does?”

“Damn straight. You think Eddie would play sports for just anybody?” she cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. 

And well…what the hell could Eddie say to that, other than to agree? He knew firsthand just how true it was, that he wouldn’t be out here for just anybody, especially before today. 

“Nah. No way in hell he would. But it's…kinda a tad more complicated than that.”

Because, stepping back to reality, those were all the signs that Eddie liked Steve, scrambled and distorted by their current situation. How Steve felt about him–he honestly still had no firm idea on that. 

Plus, at present, there were far too many confusing layers to try and unpack it all. Least of all here, with Erica Sinclair–no matter how uncannily insightful she might be for her age.

“Look, we’re just, uh…” Eddie searched for the phrasing Robin was always throwing around, whenever people questioned why she and Steve weren’t dating despite being practically psychically linked, “capital P platonic friends. Nothing more than that, okay? Pinkie swear.”

He extended a little finger to her, ready to seal the deal, but Erica ignored it with a dismissive psst.

“Yeah, right,” she said flatly, “Tell that to the sickening moon eyes you get every time he's around.”

“What the hell, man? There are no moon eyes!” Eddie protested, sounding suitably Steve-levels of scandalized, mostly because…well. He was sure as all hell that he would have noticed them if there had been!

“Boys,” Erica shook her head, sounding both resigned and disappointed, “so stupid.”

“Shit, no one's arguing with that,” he agreed readily. “But, uh…you think we can keep this little chat between us? I mean–it’s not exactly the sorta thing you wanna go around spouting off here, in Hawkins. You know what I’m saying?”

Because as much as it touched him that Erica clearly didn’t care one way or the other, and he certainly wasn’t looking to discourage that–he still wanted to make sure she exercised some caution. For them, for the party, for herself. Eddie knew from experience…not everyone took as kindly to that sort of talk as he did. 

“I know that. Think I’d just go blabbing your business all over town to anybody but you two? No,” she mimed locking her lips shut and throwing away the key. “I’m like Fort Knox, and don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah, no, I know. I didn’t think you would, it’s just–maybe, uh. Don't even mention it to me later on. ‘Kay?”

“You are so weird,” Erica informed him, blunt as ever.

“Oh, trust me, you don’t even know the half of it.” He bit his bottom lip, not quite able to tamp down on his wry half-smile. She was talking to the Freak of Hawkins High after all. He’d heard way worse. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I'll keep your little secret. But I reserve the right to say I told you so. And,” she jabbed a finger in his direction, “don't say I never did anything for you.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Eddie gave her a mock salute, which earned him her exhausted, withering side eye. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Hey, Steve!” He looked up to find Steve doing his best to block Lucas’s next shot, moving around the court with all the grace and swiftness of a dancer. “You wanna help me out here, dude, or what?”

Eddie popped up, bouncing down from the bleachers in a single, smooth jump. “Duty calls!”

Trotting back out towards the court, he watched the two of them face off, Lucas dribbling closer and closer to his target. 

“Get him, Lucas!” Erica heckled, loud enough the sound of her voice reverberated in his wake. 

And it seemed Lucas was about to do just that–until Steve twisted, clearly going for the same maneuver he’d used to sneak away the ball from Eddie earlier. Eddie’s breath caught, anticipation thrumming through him as he waited for Steve’s inevitable victory. 

…Except then Steve let out a pained shout, crumbling in on himself and just barely managing not to hit the pavement. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Eddie’s heart was in his throat. He had never been so happy to have an added burst of speed in his life, all but flinging himself across the court to get to Steve. “Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ!”

With Lucas so close, he was already stooped over and speaking in a soft voice by the time Eddie skidded to a halt beside them. “Eddie? Hey, man, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Steve hissed, waving them both off on instinct–the Harrington hero complex, back at it again. “Or, okay…maybe fine’s being a little bit generous here.”

He caught Eddie’s eyes, then, sending him a look of concern mixed with the slightest hint of accusation. Which was pretty rich, considering how willing Steve had been to brush it all off just a minute ago, until it caught up with him just whose pain he was actually currently dealing with.  

“Uh, yeah, you’re–not looking so hot there, buddy.” There was a joke in there somewhere, about how Steve wasn’t exactly his usual handsome self, but he was clearly hurting too much to catch it. …Not that Eddie was sure he would have taken it too kindly if he had. “Here, Eddie, man, let me help you out.”

He rushed to catch Steve on the opposite side from the one he was favoring, helping to support his weight. 

“Anything I can do?” Lucas asked, hovering nervously, the corners of his mouth tugged down into a concerned frown. 

“No, I’m alright. I’m alright,” Steve repeated, a variation on his refrain from before, like saying it enough times would make it so. “Harrington’s got me.”

He didn’t quite tack on the flirtatious Don’t ya, big boy? from the RV, but the memory of it echoed between them nonetheless. 

“That I do.” Eddie gave Lucas a nod. “Go on ahead, Sinclair. We’ll be right behind you.”

While Lucas hesitantly led the way, Steve sent Eddie a feeble smile, his teeth still gritted in pain as he leaned into him heavily. “...Thanks.”

Guilt raged inside him, both at the simple fact that Steve was now having to deal with his body’s bullshit, and that he hadn’t thought to tell him to be on the lookout for the warning signs that things were about to go sideways. 

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Then he added in a low undertone. “Least I can do…especially since it’s my fault in the first place.” 

“Come on, dude, don’t do that,” Steve chided automatically. Shooting a look in Lucas’s direction, his next words came out hushed. “...But we’re totally gonna talk about the fact that you’ve been hiding this from all of us later.” 

“‘Hiding’ is such a strong word.”

Steve’s expression went completely deadpan.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. Like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if you were in my shoes? No way, man. I know you too damn well for that, Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m in them now.” He inclined his head towards where he was slowly shuffling Eddie’s Reeboks over the blacktop. “And from where I’m standing, I feel pretty confident saying you definitely should have told us.”

“Funny, that didn’t exactly sound like a denial of your own tendency towards knightly stoicism, good sir.” 

“In English, please, Eds. You can’t seriously expect me to translate your nerdy talk when my side hurts like hell.”

Eddie winced, the guilt back in full force. “Shit, sorry. What I’m saying is…nowhere in there did I hear you say you’d tell me, or Robin, or the kids if you got in a bad way. In fact, all evidence points to the contrary.”

“...That’s not the point.” 

“Kinda is, sweetheart.”

The endearment was one Eddie usually reserved for when he was feeling bold enough to indulge in a little playful flirtation, but in that moment it had just sort of…slipped out. 

Steve didn’t seem to mind it, though, given he didn’t so much as stiffen, instead staying firmly burrowed into Eddie’s side. Then again, the pain was probably acting as a powerful distraction. 

Once they finally made their way to the bleachers and back within earshot of the kids, Steve murmured, “We’re so not done with this.” A promise and a threat, all rolled up into one.

“Rest now, man. There’ll be plenty of time to scold me later.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Steve did as instructed. He winced while Eddie helped ease him down into a sitting position, and Eddie couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath alongside him, as if the pang had shot through them both. 

“What happened?” Erica demanded. She was standing up fully in the bleachers now, the annoyance radiating off of her betraying just how worried she really was. 

“A taste of karma, probably,” Eddie joked, trying to inject a bit of levity into the tenseness that had settled all around them. “After years of badmouthing, isn’t it only natural basketball would turn the tables and try to eliminate him, finally seek its long-awaited revenge?” 

Lucas and Steve both sent him wide-eyed looks, a mixture of horror and guilt on their faces, but Erica only snorted. 

“See? She thought it was funny.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she’s a psycho,” Lucas accused glibly. Erica stuck out her tongue in reply, the pair of them momentarily diverted, just like he’d hoped they would be. 

“It’s not a big deal. I just–went a little too hard, too fast. That’s all,” Steve assured them, before adding pointedly, “After everything, it’s pretty clear I’ve still got some healing to do. Which…duh. Plus it wouldn’t, like, kill me to take it a little easier on myself.”

Lucas cringed in sympathy nonetheless. “Sorry your first game didn’t exactly go like we planned.”

Eddie was intimately familiar with Steve’s blank, hiding-the-pain expression, so he recognized it easily on his own face. Still, Steve managed to muster up a stiff smile for the kid. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Sinclair. Chin up. Comes with the territory, right? It’s not like it was your fault…or anybody’s, really.” His eyes deliberately darted to meet Eddie’s. “It’s just…one of those things, you know?”

“Does this mean you’re not gonna wanna play with us anymore?” The words came out of Lucas in a rush, his eyes flitting guiltily between Steve and Eddie, then back again. 

In spite of Steve’s reassurances, it was clear he was still trying to shoulder some of the burden. Alongside that, though, Eddie thought he heard just a touch of disappointment. 

Steve turned to gaze up at Eddie, chewing on his bottom lip. He could see that same sense of hesitancy reflected in wide brown eyes. 

“Aww, you can’t run out on us now, Eds. You promised you were trying to turn over a new leaf here,” Eddie wheedled, batting his eyelashes. 

It was a move straight out of the “Harrington Charm” handbook, one Steve had jokingly pulled plenty of times before, whenever he wanted to twist Eddie’s arm on something. 

(And so what if Eddie caved to it basically each and every time? He was only human.) 

“Once you’re back at full fighting shape…you gotta come back. Right? After all, can’t let all those hidden talents go to waste, now can we?”

Matching expressions of giddy relief bloomed over both Lucas and Steve’s faces, bright enough to warm even the deepest cockles of Eddie’s once sports-hating heart. 

“Of course I can’t,” Steve snapped a finger in Lucas’s direction. “So you better keep up the practice, Sinclair. I want you in tip-top shape for our rematch.”

Lucas nodded eagerly. “You got it!”

In the past couple of hours, Steve had probably done more to convince Lucas of Eddie’s sincerity when it came to that future apology than he had managed on his own in months. For that, he’d be eternally grateful.

“Can’t believe the two of you managed to turn Eddie Munson of all people into a sports fan,” Erica said drily, though Eddie caught the knowing twinkle in her eye. 

“I mean, it was only a matter of time before I turned to the, uh,” Steve’s brow wrinkled briefly before his face lit up, finally landing on the reference he was searching for, “the light side of the force.”

Star Wars, that was the one area of nerd culture where he could–usually–be counted on. 

“Think that near fall might have rattled you more than we thought,” Eddie ribbed good-naturedly. “Next thing you know, you’ll be denouncing your life of delinquency and D&D and joining up with one of those sports club thingies down at the YMCA.” 

Steve’s grin was wicked. “Hey, I already know I look good in these shorts. Maybe I could pull off a jersey, too.”

Eddie flushed as Steve’s fingers pinched the edge of said tiny basketball shorts, skirting so close to dark leg hair and pale skin he could almost feel it, like the phantom of a touch. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just hurry up and get you home, basketball star.”

With a nod, Steve sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing while he prepared to stand. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold your horses there, Munson.” Eddie dropped a hand on each of his shoulders, effectively pinning him in place. He gave Steve a quick, assessing look. 

Then he nodded once, resolved. 

“What?” Steve asked, glancing around himself in confusion. “What is it? Knock it off, dude, you’re starting to freak me o–” 

Unceremoniously, Eddie scooped him up and into his arms. 

Steve let out a yelp in protest as he rose into the air, arms coming up to wrap instinctively around Eddie’s neck and cling onto him tightly. “Oh my God, oh my God! If you drop me, man, I swear to God–”

Careful of Steve’s now sensitive side, Eddie gave his arms a subtle flex, “With these muscles? Fat chance, dude. Besides, you’re precious cargo. I swear not to harm so much as a single shaggy hair on your head.” 

Up close, the redness on the tips of his ears really was something. Eddie would have to remember that for later, make sure to drag his wild mane over more than just his face whenever he got embarrassed. 

Lucas groaned, faking a gag. “Seriously, guys? Not in front of the children.” 

Beside him, however, Erica looked positively gleeful. 

It was Eddie’s turn to feel that tell-tale flame of heat creeping over his face, for being quite that obvious. At least the eldest Sinclair was just playing it off as more of the ‘Mom and Dad’ routine he’d accused them of earlier. 

Determined not to appear more flustered than he already did, he gave the pair of them a quick jerk of his head. “Move out, troops.”

Fortunately, they started heading towards the car with little fanfare, the peanut gallery for once falling blissfully silent. 

As Eddie fell into step behind them, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to keep an even pace, even with Steve in tow. He knew he was a bit gangly, sure, but he wasn’t exactly a small guy. So, honestly, it came as a shock, just how light his body felt in Steve’s strong arms. 

“Okay, but seriously,” Steve started, tone furtive, “you know you really don’t have to do this.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Eddie clucked his tongue. “Au contraire, my good man. Lest we forget, post-bat attack, you were the one who literally held my guts in.” 

The pale skin of the face Steve was currently wearing went even paler, and not because Eddie had done anything as thoughtless as accidentally jostle him. “Jesus, Eds, don’t remind me.”

“All I’m saying is, I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to return the favor, after something like that. So, shush, Harrington. Sit back, relax, and…I don’t know. Maybe try to enjoy the ride?”

And though Steve did grumble out a few more half-hearted protests, he also seemed to melt more solidly into Eddie’s hold after that. For all his insistence that Eddie should be doing a better job looking after himself, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since Steve let someone take care of him like this. 

So when Steve finally let go enough to rest his head against Eddie’s chest, a warm weight above the steady beat of Eddie’s borrowed heart, he quietly resolved to take on that mantle for himself, always be at the ready to catch Steve if he fell. 

If I accidentally missed anybody on the taglist, or you’d like to be added, please let me know!

Taglist: @tinytalkingtina @sidekick-hero @thefreakandthehair @lingeringmirth @eriquin

@grimweathers @too-efn-old-to-be-here @stevesworldxx @themellowyellowmomma @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @ellietheasexylibrarian @sharingisntkaren @a-lovely-craziness @highkingpenny

[aishangotome]

Rio Ortiz: Even If I Die

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

—

I slip into bed with Emma, our hands intertwining as usual, and let myself sink into the warmth of this familiar feeling.

Even though we've slept like this for countless nights, this sense of happiness never fades.

Rio: I'm so lucky to be able to sleep like this with you, my love, every day.

Emma: I was just thinking the same thing.

Rio: Really? I knew it, our hearts are connected.

Rio: But I never imagined I could experience such happiness...

Emma: What brought this on all of a sudden?

Rio: I often think about how these happy days we spend together feel like a miracle.

Emma: Rio...

(Because I met you, I was able to create something precious again.)

Rio: Creating something precious was scary, but my love for you outweighed it a million times over.

Rio: It's all thanks to you for making me fall so deeply in love.

(From the moment I confessed my feelings, I decided to protect you no matter what.)

(And that will never change, no matter what happens.)

Emma: My love for you is also a big and special feeling that surpasses any other emotion.

Rio: Am I allowed to receive such happy words at the end of the day?

Rio: I want to declare today as a new anniversary for us.

Emma: With you, Rio, every day could be an anniversary. But do you really mean it?

(You're a genius at making me happy.)

I want to keep up, but so far, I'm on a losing streak.

(But maybe there's no better losing streak than this.)

I squeeze her hand, and Emma gives me her pure, cheerful smile.

Rio: Even when we become old, let's hold hands and sleep like this.

Emma: Yes. You know, the other day when I went shopping in town, I saw an elderly couple walking hand in hand.

Emma: They looked so happy together...

Emma: I thought that even as I get older, I want to hold hands with you, Rio, when we go out.

(To think we were both thinking about each other even when we were apart...)

(It's not a metaphor, it really feels like our hearts are connected, and I'm so happy I could faint.)

Rio: Of course. I'll never stop holding your hand, no matter what.

Rio: Let's be the envy of the world as a loving couple.

I embrace Emma tightly.

Emma: I'm so happy and joyful right now, and this will continue forever.

Rio: It will continue forever, and we'll be even happier than we are now.

Rio: You know, maybe I'll become good at knitting by the time I'm a grandpa, and we can wear matching sweaters in the winter.

Emma: That's lovely! Then I'll knit matching scarves and gloves.

Rio: Mmm, just imagining it makes me excited.

Rio: Besides clothes, maybe we can have more fun if we share the same hobbies?

Emma: We have plenty of time, so let's discover them together.

Rio: What would be good? Walks, trips, painting... Ah, anything would be fun with you.

Emma: Hehe, you give me so much to look forward to in the future, Rio.

Emma: I hope I can give you many things to look forward to as you get older too.

(You already give me a lifetime of joy.)

(If I said that, you'd laugh cutely and say, "That's not true.")

Rio: I'm sure you'll always be the same, even when you're old, you'll probably become a cute grandma.

Emma: Rio will become a handsome grandpa.

Emma: I think the more we grow old, the more we'll love each other, and we'll become even closer.

Rio: I'm sure we'll be two people bound by the strongest love, a love that can't be beaten by any other couple!

Rio: Let's always hold hands when we go out, when we sleep, and even after we die, let's always be together.

Emma: You mean, let's be buried in the same grave?

Rio: That too, of course, but even if we go to heaven, even if we're reborn, I want to be with you.

Emma: Hehe, then let's be together.

Rio: Huh, really?

Emma: Yeah, really. It's a promise.

Emma kissed me as a sign of our promise.

(No... I'm too happy.)

FIN

[skayafair]

Monty's Study

I haven't been to the fandom tag in a while, so maybe this was already discussed, but I want to talk about Monty.

First off, I've been reading what others say regarding his cage and connecting it to what he said himself.

the cage is too small for a crow (literally for any bird, actually)

the door is open, nothing that we could see was holding him in place

Monty still didn't try to get out and fly away

he said "being in the dark like that - it was... hard, not being able to make my own choices" about his previous life as a crow

Which makes me think Esther never cared much for her familiar and even left him alive after he failed her plan only because he could still come in handy in future but either cast a will-binding spell on him or simply trained to be tamed. In any way, he couldn't leave - neither before his human time, nor after.

Which still doesn't mean he should like being human.

Every time I see the takes about "Monty come back in s2", I can't help this thought scratching me even as I smile at the jokes and headcanons. Not to yuck anyone's yum, I'm all for shifter Monty, it's a very interesting idea that can unravel in soooo many ways, just give me all of them, - but at the same time I can't get rid of this uneasy feeling.

Here's the thing: I take a particular liking to the characters who aren't human but were forced to become one without their consent, and the way they feel about it and cope with it. Call that a projection, they're very relatable as an allegory, whatever. Says Skaya as an ND.

Some of them like the change, find new meaning in it. Some are 50/50 and uncertain. And some hate it. They never asked to be human, what the hell!

Malevolent podcast and some RK900 fics are partcularly good at exploring this

Since the first moments Monty was turned human, I've been looking forward to whether this question was going to be addressed and how. The show was going exactly in all the directions I liked the most, so I had hopes it will consider this, and suspected it would happen exactly the way I wanted the most.

And yay, that actually happened. The way I wanted the most. Added sad circumstances of Monty basically sacrificing his newfound life and self were really not that necessary okay q_q

Throughout the episodes I could see how initially all smiley and loyal familiar Monty felt more and more uneasy about the whole Esther's plan. He didn't like it. He liked his new friends. He actually fell for a guy. It was so fucking complicated and confusing but there was also joy in it! Until certain point, that is... Anyway! Being human is difficult. Monty didn't ask for it.

And he actually says that!

We don't know if he liked being a crow better, if he wanted to stay human longer - he doesn't talk about any of it. He liked the ability to make his own choices he couldn't make as a crow though - so maybe he would like to try this human experience to some extent again.

But we know he wasn't very fond of all those complicated human feelings. Crows are very smart, but it's a different kind of intellegence. Being a bird isn't necessarily simpler or easier than being a human, especially now that he's lost his owner and is probably out in the streets? I'm suddenly very much concerned, crows are very social and territorial creatures, what if they don't accept this boy?! But it's different. And it's natural for him. It's familiar, hence it's easier just by this fact. And no confusing emotions.

Maybe the fact that Monty liked making independent decisions so much and developed his rebellious side to some extent was what made him retain some memories and attachments when he was back to his crow form, helping Charles with his backpack.

I don't think he'd enjoy being fully human again, though. I think he likes being a bird, as he initially is. Hence why all the "Monty should come back in s2 and have a happy love story!" make me feel uneasy.

Still... since he liked some of it, maybe being given an ability to shapeshift at will and somehow merge a bird mind and a human one which should really be ONE HELL of a process into some comfortable chimera, he'd use it?

[dear-ao3]

Re your RB cursed second seat post, just wanted to add a few things and make a couple of corrections because this stuff really does add to the uh... flavour

First, while I know it's not entirely relevant, the whole Racing Point driver swap was SO MUCH more dramatic because Lance Stroll and Esteban Ocon are like. Besties. Like BFF friends forever since childhood. Poor son of mechanic and rolling in cash son of billionaire true friendship story. Esteban was fired in favour of his best friend, by his BEST FRIEND'S DAD. PEAK drama. They're still besties, bee tee dubs, because Esteban only makes enemies with his teammates.

F1 Invisible Moustache Twirling Supervillain Christian Horner also has a history of 'we're fully supportive [x driver] to be the best they can be and have no intention of changing our driver line up' and then oops, sorry. We lied. Like... five minutes later. Happened to Gasly, happened to Albon, and the former is currently where we're at with Checo. Christian has admitted that they were too hasty with Albon but oh dear how sad too bad boy's thriving now oopsie doopsie.

Also not forgetting that while Daniel was twiddling his thumbs waiting for his metacarpal to heal, Liam Lawson, the AT and RB reserve, got the highest placing position for the Alpha Tauri team this season (up until Mexico, anyway) while driving in Daniel's seat, and also threw himself into the RB second driver conversation.

And a couple of minor corrections:

DR didn't just leave RB because of the unreliability, it was more about being pushed aside for Golden Child Max Verstappen (affectionate, maybe slightly derogatory), which of course he knows all about because DR did the same thing to Vettel back in 2014. Who also had experience in that field because you could argue the cursed seat actually started with Mark Webber vs Seb Vettel back in like... 2010

Honda has been in F1 before. They sold to Brawn GP for the princely sum of one euro symbolic cash when they were going under, because Ross Brawn knew they'd built a MEGA car and couldn't bear to see them not run it for the 2009 season. Brawn GP won that year, it was Jenson Button's one and only championship win.

F1 drivers can't really go back to F2. If you've won it before, you can't compete again, but it's a feeder series so there's no way some ex-f1 driver is ever gonna be in F2 (or any of the lower formulas) because it's specifically for young talent. IDK maybe you meant Formula E? They also often go to WEC or IndyCar. Even rallying.

RB didn't give Checo another car at Suzuka he went out in the same car after they fixed it up enough for it to drive around one lap. Worth noting he was like 32 laps behind by this point (IDR the exact number but it was LORGE). spare cars haven't been a thing in F1 since 2008

Finally, the Fernando and Charles rumours are so fucking funny ain't no way either of them are gonna go to RB only to be a second to Max. I can see Carlos doing it though, trying for the grand return a-la DR. He's just Like ThatTM (affectionate, again also slightly derogatory). They've also been hardcore courting Lando Norris, who's way too smart and aware of his mental health to put himself into that depression spiral.

ANYWAY this isn't intended to be a big GOTCHA i just wanted to, as I said, add some extra flavour because F1 is so much more insane than anyone who doesn't follow it can POSSIBLY comprehend. Thanks for the post, I love seeing people explain the bonkers bullshittery.

yes yes thank you for pointing out all my mistakes and all that i j ew i was going to be getting Peer Reviewed (again, tumblr deleted my damn post so the first version was more accurate but i was pissed and i was also 1am so…) but yes. i am also new here in terms of the f1 drama. but yes it’s totally positively bonkers do you guys See now why fandom people are attracted to it???

[satureja13]

Ji Ho is back from his first Therapy Game session and couldn't be happier! And Saiwa is relieved they have him back in one piece. He was so worried and felt so bad Ji Ho, their most fragile, had to have his therapy before him, their oldest and leader. Ji Ho: "Don't worry. It was amazing! Tiny Can did an amazing job, you really should try." Saiwa drew in a deep breath: "Ok, I will go next then."

They went over to the living room their office. There are a few things to consider. First that their avatars obviously have a life of their own when they are not logged in. Jack saw Ji Ho as NPC Princess watching his fight at the Arena. So it's possible that they have encounters and experiences they aren't aware of because they are not logged in. Best they prepare to act unsuspicious when they are confronted with their avatar's actions ingame. And then Ji Ho had to tell them that it's the best for all of them when they don't share everything that happens ingame. So the therapy of the others doesn't get spoiled/contaminated. (Jack and the Queen, for example. It's probably better for him he doesn't know that the Queen and Greg are together ingame too. The Queen wanted it to be a secret anyway and maybe it's an important experience for Jack to try to woo the Queen.) But he also talked about his positive experiences and everything that was safe to mention. And they all agreed to make it a habit to take their time to follow their hobbies at least once a week.

Mood at dinner was subdued. Seems they don't take these news well. Jack wanted to know everything about his Queen and Vlad thinks Ji Ho and Caleb did ineffable things together and Ji Ho keeps it from him because he doesn't want to hurt him...

After dinner, Jack and Ji Ho went to the beach to relieve Jack's pain and Saiwa soaked Vlad in the hot tub to relieve his stress.

But Vlad was inconsolable. He knows it's just a game and that it's necessary for Ji Ho's healing and that they finally can be together when this is over and Ji Ho found his buried feelings. Saiwa: "Vlad, I know it's hard but try to hang on. Just for a little longer, hm? It will be worth it in the end. Don't let Ji Ho see you like this. He might stop his therapy and that would be a loss for all of us. We can already see the silver lining on the horizon."

Vlad: "Fine! I already went through hell and back for him. I can do this!" Saiwa: "That's my boy."

Nothing is easy in this world - or the others... But at least they are very beautiful worlds.

Jack: "Ah I can't wait to go back ingame. I miss Lou. And the Queen! Oh, have to make a plan what to say when I see her again! It's so amazing that I can be a totally other me ingame. I'm not damaged there, I'm a highly regarded fighter. And she doesn't know me as an abandoned pup. I'm a grown, strong, handsome wolf. I think I really stand a chance with her!" Poor Ji Ho! This is harder than he expected ö.Ö'

He tries to change the subject and told Jack that he really thinks this therapy game could be a great step forward for all of them. And no matter what happens ingame with Caleb, he's glad that Vlad encouraged him to go for it so he can heal. And how happy he is that he has the Bond with Vlad. No matter what happens, the Bond will keep them together. And how that gives him the strength to keep on going.

They talked about how different their experiences with a fated/bonded relationship are. Ji Ho feels secure to be bonded to Vlad even though they barely talk to each other or spend time together. And even though Ji Ho is not able to love Vlad yet. He never felt stability in his whole life and he cherishes Vlad's constant presence and love over the Bond. Whereas Jack never felt his fated bond between Kiyoshi and him. He is still highly attracted to him (and he hates himself for his weakness!) and he did love Kiyoshi a lot. But that bolt in the chest that should have hit him - nope - never happened. Jack: "Well that's over now. Kiyoshi became a diety and I don't think dieties have fated mates. And I don't want to relive this madness ever again. I'm glad I'm finally crawling out of this bottomless pit."

Then it was time for Vlad to go back home to care for Jeb and Kiyoshi. And to charge the Bond... Vlad: "Jack, wait..." Vlad can't be alone with Ji Ho right now. Not when when he's so upset. Jack sighed. It's about time for their next date, so they can get more comfortable around each other.

Vlad is having a hard time charging the Bond and letting Ji Ho touch him. Who knows what he did with Caleb. And even tough Saiwa told him to not bother Ji Ho with his jealousy, he just couldn't help it... Last Winter Solstice, Ji Ho even agreed to bond with Caleb! Well, he did not really have a choice because Vlad had been lost with Jeb in the Otherworld and wasn't able to protect Ji Ho, but Vlad knows how crazy they all are about Caleb! Omg Vlad!

Saiwa: "They are driving me crazy." Jack: "Well, we all act stupid at times, don't we?" Saiwa sighed: "I guess that's what we do... Oh my, I can't wait to see what Tiny Can has planned for me. Let's hope it helps. It's about time we go back home." Jack: "It will help. Look how well Ji Ho and I already do."

And eventually Ji Ho calmed Vlad through the Bond so they could charge... Vlad feels so stupid and he tries to apologize over the Bond and to reassure Ji Ho that he really means it when he told him that he will endure everything so Ji Ho can heal. And Ji Ho hugged him a bit tighter. He already knows that. We will overcome this too, the Bond said.

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[lindleland]

And just like that, I'm done with Moon.

I was worried that I'd end up disliking this on a replay but it was much better than I'd remembered. Honestly one of my favourite games in the series.

These are still some of the best characters in the series, it has one of the best batches of new Pokemon they ever introduced, and you have a great set of team options throughout the game without it ever feeling like they're giving you too many options. I feel like the last couple entries have been maybe a bit too generous with the Pokemon you can get early on plus giving you enough XP to easily raise multiple teams, making each playthrough seem kind of indistinct. This one hits the perfect balance.

The region looks goddamn gorgeous and I love the aesthetic of these 3D models, there's a good balance between detail in the models and pixellated textures that have a real low-poly charm to them.

And this is still probably the best plot in the series, barring maybe Scarlet and Violet's.

I do have one big criticism though, and that's that this game is overwhelmingly handholdy. I think a lot of the changes to the formula were a good idea, but incorproating a strict linear plot with exactly one quest marker at a time makes this really feel like you aren't on your own journey, you're being guided through a series of preset objectives. So many roadblocks in this feel aggressively guiding, like the game is saying "this is NOT the way to progress the story, go follow your quest marker NOW", and there are very few opportunities to go off the beaten path. Additionally, while I do like the cutscenes, there are way too many of them. You can hardly enter anywhere new in this game without a cutscene happening.

With that being said, I still had a fantastic time here. And in fairness, Sword and Shield had similar problems outside of the Wild Areas despite barely even having a plot.

Glad I'm putting some good distance between this and Ultra Moon, though. Probably the worst pair of games to play through back to back given how little freedom there is in the experience. I'll be playing through the Violet DLC whenever I can afford it, but the other games in my immediate replay lineup are physical copies on old hardware that I can't screenshot on. Once we get back to the 3DS era though I'll probably liveblog Alpha Sapphire and Ultra Moon as well.

...Though I'm not really done with this liveblog yet, since Moon has (holy shit) an actual substantial postgame! Stay tuned.

[ladyofthe-manor]

Ronmione shippers... in 2024?

I don't know what I did to big Tumblr for them to be punishing me with my timeline but lately I've been bombarded with Dramione hate seemingly out of the blue. I don't know why, but it has been kind of funny to see other people's posts.

I saw someone wrote out a list of reasons Dramione would NOT work, and it included things like "Hermione being unforgiving and petty" and "Hermione shouldn't need or want a man to change for her" and it left me honestly baffled. Maybe it should be a prerequisite that you read Dramione fanfiction before you attempt to bash it, because clearly some of these people are just outing themselves.

The misogynistic hatred of Hermione as a character is nothing new, so I won't touch on it here, but some of these posts are so telling.

I will talk about Draco though, because he gets almost double the flak because of all the hatred of Drarry on top of it all (which reads as homophobic to me but well, that's a story for another time.)

Most Dramione readers and writers don’t ship Hermione Granger and the 12-year-old boy that prayed on her downfall and wished for her death. Do you think we seek out 100k+ word stories just for the long awaited epilogue where he calls her a mudblood in their marital vows? 

Are you that judgmental that you would begrudge a sixteen-year-old (threatened with the death of his mother) the chance at redemption?

A brainwashed, bullying, ignorant CHILD? Who goes through an entire war? Who watches and is forced to participate in torturing his own classmates? Do you really think he went through all of that only to come out on the other side STILL believing everything he was taught? Or is it more feasible that he might have had a change of heart or two?

(And honestly, even if he does come through the war still believing in blood purity, the fanfictions that explore his subsequent journey of self-discovery and learning are some of the most popular on ao3. I wonder why?)

Isn’t it more exciting to read about Draco and EITHER his redemption arc, or if you hate him so much, his own downfall? Especially over canon pairings? Ron and Hermione are childhood friends-to-lovers. BORING. 

You can't have it both ways. I've seen people absolutely shit on Hermione for the birds, and the permanent disfiguration, and the jar, but jeez, do you know who would have loved that side of her? Probably Slytherin Draco, don't you think? Or is it Ron, the object of her ire with the birds and the one that thought she took it too far and was too ruthless?

Also, to so confidently argue that Hermione would never forgive Draco and that he would never change (even for himself if not for her) is such an incredibly pessimistic outlook on life that I can almost understand why you sad people still ship Ronmione. It's giving... ordering chicken tenders at a fancy restaurant. Grow up, lmao.

Hermione can forgive her childhood bully... for HERSELF. Draco can unlearn the harmful brainwashing of his childhood... for HIMSELF. And then the two of them can learn from the other's experiences and heal together. Or they can bicker until the sun comes down and turn slowly from enemies to lovers. Or they can become friends to lovers. The possibilities are endless, and more importantly, it allows for something Ronmione inherently lacks: GROWTH.

It's especially funny to me, because unless you specifically go looking for it, most of the quality Dramione fanfiction that gets posted on a DAILY basis doesn't even mention Ron except to say that their stale high school sweetheart relationship ended quietly and amicably and everyone moved on. You guys love to go on and on about Draco and Dramione readers are sitting there like... Ron? We don't think of you.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

If you could rewrite the paw patrol movie and give more characters screen time and make it as in where Chase doesn't fully get over his fears how would you all do it

Despite being a great movie YOU GET IT, YOU KNOW WHAT'S UP WITH THAT MOVIE, THANKS FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY, I love writing stuff so I just hope it'll be to your liking too XD

Under the cut for more than obvious reasons- very VEEEERY LONG post ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you. Let's GO.

There's not many things I'd change by the beginning of the movie to be honest. Even the short talk Ryder had with Chase to convince him to go with them to Adventure City was okay enough for me. Plus it shows just how much Chase puts his trust in Ryder, above his fears and trauma, which is a VERY IMPORTANT POINT later down the road. Also, we did get to see Chase was uncomfortable upon arrival, which is important as well. Slowly, it gave way to curiosity and wonder, thanks to seeing their new headquarters. I would ignore my fears too if it meant I'd get to go into such a cool place and be allowed to call it my home far from home.

The things I would possibly change... Maybe Mayor Humdinger. There was something REALLY OFF about him in this movie. I mean, it's not THAT MUCH DIFFERENT from the show, but I feel he went a bit crazier than usual on his ideas. I can't put my finger on it... He seemed more like a bad guy for the sake of being evil, and not like someone who came from a sad town and just wishes for recognition and praise.

Now there are four main points about the pups I'd probably have worked a bit differently: Chase, Marshall, Zuma and Skye.

First, let's go about Chase.

I agree his panic attacks were greatly addressed and handled. There was no exaggeration, there was no "let's make it seem way bigger/impressive than it is" kind of thing. Some shows or movies, when going about a character panicking, like to make it look SO DEEP, with so many thoughts crossing their mind, and so many scenarios, and things looking more threatening or bigger and-- most times it's nowhere near like that at all. That would be more like an anxiety attack, actually. For panic attacks, there's nearly no thoughts at all, we don't process what's happening. It can be a little different for everyone, given we're all not the same people, but I can say by personal experience, when I had panic attacks, I literally BLANKED. All I can remember is my body tensing so hard I was unable to move, so I just cowered in my chair, my eyes were darting everywhere totally unable to focus and both my head and my chest felt like they could explode any second. I stayed like that until I could hear my father talking to me and taking me away from the place where I was, taking me back home to my bed. That was almost exactly how they made it in the movie: Chase tensed, froze, was unable to act, and then he cowered away, closing his eyes and hyperventilating until he heard Skye talking to him and then she took him away from that place.

As for his trauma, though... At the beginning, yes. It was nicely addressed too. From all we've seen in the show, Chase tends to literally blindly follow through with Ryder's orders, no matter what. That pup has in Ryder not only a leader, but also a best friend he would go through hell and beyond for. He would do ANYTHING for Ryder. And so, he puts his trust in Ryder once more and accepts the fate of being taken with them to Adventure City, despite his own wish of not setting a paw in that place ever again in his life. Because he trusts Ryder more than himself. And when he felt his trust was broken, Chase was devastated. We know that was not the case - while Chase felt like Ryder was benching him because he was unable to act (for being scared/a failure), Ryder was actually benching him because he was worried about Chase's mental health. He KNEW Chase was panicking badly, what Chase had to go through in that very city was traumatic, and Ryder KNEW all that. But Chase thought Ryder didn't trust him, so he ran away.

Everything handled pretty okay up to this point. And then, there's the one thing I'd change about Chase in this movie:

Later down the road, they (probably unintentionally/mostly due to the movie timing) made it look like Chase was able to just overcome his trauma with that city with just some small talks- I'm not saying those talks were NOT important, ON THE CONTRARY, they were VERY WELL DONE AS WELL. The issue is just the simple fact that these kinda things don't go away SO FAST. Of course, we needed him to be able to literally jump into action because the movie needed to end XD But still... He didn't need to do that ALONE either.

What I would change is literally THAT. Chase didn't need to go rescue Ryder ALONE, especially when he KNEW he could end up freezing in panic. He's still in Adventure City, he's still pretty much EVEN MORE TRAUMATIZED. He wanted to prove a point, fine. He wanted to prove that he is able, to prove that he is a hero like everyone believes him to be. He wanted to prove he CAN BE TRUSTED. But he didn't need to do the rescue ALONE to prove that.

Personally, I think the scene when Chase rescues Ryder could/would have gone differently if the other pups would have joined him - for example, we probably wouldn't have that dramatic leap of faith, sure. That works when the character is alone or carrying someone else. Not in a group. But can you imagine if Chase's first thing was to contact the other pups to let them know the tower collapsed with Ryder still inside it? They all would go there and they would work TOGETHER as the team they are, to reach for Ryder, rescue him and successfully bring him back down to ground level, safe and sound. And they would all support Chase as they do so. Chase doesn't need to deal with his trauma alone, he doesn't need to fight his fears alone. He's got his team, his friends, his family with him. In my opinion, they should have worked together to rescue Ryder and the impact of the "you don't need to deal with your fears alone" message would be more special than "overcome your fears on your own".

Now, about Marshall.

I actually liked the fact Marshall was the one taking over whenever Chase was unable to act for one reason or another. It literally makes sense, not because they're close friends/best friends or whatever, it's literally because of their jobs. Cops, firefighters and paramedics (I know he's an EMT, shush, let me generalize the thing here) are the jobs among all the pups' jobs that ARE to deal with crowds, to deal with people more directly during rescues. They're the ones to talk to people, they're the ones to give instructions, ANYWHERE, anytime. They are the authorities there. So, whenever Chase is unavailable, Marshall is the logic choice to take over and I'm glad they did so.

What I would change, would be two small things: I'd give him some time WITH CHASE, and our old fandom beloved main complaint, I'd let his clumsiness show more.

Marshall should have had a talk with Chase at some point- any point at all. The show portrayed these two as best friends in the beginning, they always did things together, be it for work or for play time. Marshall should have been there for Chase too, and I'd do that after that first incident when Marshall had to go put out the fires and make sure Chase wouldn't get burned while he was lowered back to ground level. Y'know when Chase was unable to sleep and went to the main room to look out to the city in the middle of the night? That could have been a good moment for that, maybe right after the song played.

As for Marshall's clumsiness, I don't have much to say. It was badly portrayed, as in he was clumsy in a way that it wasn't HIS clumsy way- any of the other pups could have been put in his place and be just as clumsy. I'd give him at least two scenes where he would "be himself" in a way we'd be like "YEP, that's our Marshall!" I don't have specific ideas right now but I could think of some, given some time.

Surprisingly, I wouldn't change much about Zuma.

When I saw complaints about his lack of screentime in the movie, I honestly thought it would be worse. Like my father commented on my post with his reactions to the movie, to take Zuma - a pup specialized in WATER RESCUES - to a big city, it's SO NOT his "natural habitat". Zuma is literally a fish out of water there. I wasn't expecting him to have any water-related rescue AT ALL, maybe he'd just do a regular ground rescue. To have him go in the sewer/river canal to rescue that car was legit a pleasing surprise for me.

But then, why is he in this post, Lary?

Simple: All of Zuma's moments of "important" screentime in this movie only happened because Liberty was there with him. I feel like he was the one riding on her for screentime, rather than the other way around, which is kinda disturbing as he IS one of the main six and she's a literal newbie there.

Pulling her little cart;

Later when they were being deployed, Liberty was there watching as they all launched and was the most excited to see Zuma's hovercraft being deployed (ngl I'd be as excited as her, seeing a hovercraft up close like that IS AN EXPERIENCE);

And then, they worked together to rescue the family from the car which fell in the water. This last one is important: Zuma wouldn't have been as successful with this rescue if he didn't have someone else to sail his raft down the stream following his sub. And who was it? Liberty. Even with the convenience, they paired those two so both could have screentime at all.

So I'd find another way to give Zuma screentime without relying it on pairing him with Liberty at least once. I'd probably make it happen for the group rescue on Ryder. He could have some moment there, as well as all the others.

And last but not least, there's something about Skye that bothered me a bit.

It's not about her character or anything like that- she was alright for the entire movie, really. The one thing that bothered me wasn't her, but something that happened WITH/BECAUSE OF her. Namely, the clouds dispersing instantly after she dive-bombed the shit out of that cloud-sucker machine.

I'm sorry but they spent the whole movie building up the tension of that machine getting too stuffed with clouds, the density going nuts, and then the machine releases the clouds creating a huge storm... Only for all of them to magically DISAPPEAR once the machine is no more? They were already OUTSIDE of the machine. Maybe the storm itself would stop, nice, but that thing was literally a high pressure pan ready to explode and Skye did just that. She exploded the high pressure pan. It should've released ALL THE CLOUDS, maybe the air displacement would PUSH THEM all over and beyond the city, and only then the winds would take them away, but that wouldn't happen instantly. For fucks sake Skye literally exploded a ticking high pressure bomb LMAO let it have SOME effects! Give us some sky spectacle of clouds going all over, being pushed away and only then slowly opening up the sky once more.

So, yeah, these are the things I'd change in the first Paw Patrol movie. Nothing too drastic really, just small but important details, the only BIG change would be how Chase got to deal with his trauma in the end.

Whether he and/or Ryder like it or not, that city will ALWAYS bring Chase the memories of the worst times of his life - being abandoned as a baby, all alone, later also the memories of his panic attacks and the memories of the panic he must've felt once he saw the tower collapsing knowing Ryder was still in there - even if it ALSO brings now the memories of the best thing that ever happened to him: Being found and rescued by Ryder. We could've added now the good memory of Chase finding out he's not alone with his fears, finding out he doesn't have to suffer alone, finding out his family will always back him up no matter what, just like Ryder said, that's why they're a team, to support and back each others up in their times of need.

I swear it took me A WHOLE DAY typing this (in between teaching classes). You guys love to make me work my brain out, huh? Hope you'll like it, these are my points of view in this whole thing, my PERSONAL ideas. If you have different ideas, NICE! If you agree with mine, NICE TOO! Everyone thinks differently and let's go XD I need some food now, need to go make my dinner after teaching this night's class, see ya XD

[annymation]

Wait now I want to see KOW!Asha’s reaction to the voiceless plushie that Disney turned her bf into

Alright so now I will play with this differently, last time I wrote how the movie Wish would play out more less if Aster was in it instead of Star, now let's see how Kingdom of Wishes would play out had Star came down instead of Aster

Asha wished upon a star, so she could be guided on how to save her people, and so, the whole sky lit up with the most comforting and warm light, enveloping the whole kingdom.

Then, Asha found what caused that light, a little ball of energy and magic, flying around the woods with a red ball of yarn.

The little star flies up to her

"AAH!" She yells in surprise, but upon taking a closer look it's clear that the cute little yellow ball is harmless "H-hello there heh heh... A-are you the star I wished on?" The star nods yes excitedly, Asha looks at the little star with her eyes full of wonder "So you're here to guide me! That's great! I need your help to free all the wishes of Rosas, can your magic do that?" She asks, the little baby star already seems distracted with a butterfly passing by, Asha finds that adorable "Heh okay, maybe not. You're just a cute little guy, aren't you? Maybe we should start small" She holds the little star in her hands, the little ball of light seems to giggle like a baby in her hands "But most importantly, I can't let the king and queen find you... I know from experience they destroy any spark of hope they encounter."

The star looks at her confused and sad by that statement

Asha shows them a drawing of the king and queen (She ripped all the pages of her sketch book that had drawings of them earlier so she had to draw them again just for this lol) "See these two? They're very mean, and they've been changing people's wishes... They even changed my wish" Asha explains like she's talking to a baby, which she is. The tiny star gets really angry at that, it looks quite adorable when he tries punching the drawing with his little stubby arms "Hihih yeah it makes me mad too" The star points to the castle, giving the idea of them going there to get her wish, Asha is firm when she explain "Absolutely not, you gotta stay FAAAAR away from them, alright?" The star looks sad, Asha can tell, so she tries cheering them up "Hey, don't worry, we'll stop them... Together. We just need time to figure it out" She points her finger to the star, to which the star touches her finger happily like a little high five.

...

Aaaaand that's all I got, I don't feel like writing how Magnifico would find the star and how Asha would react and stuff. Though I will say this, remember how Magnifico's reaction to learning Aster was just around 18 years old was to yell at Asha saying "ASHA! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU WISHED UPON A BABY STAR???"... yeah, let's just say he's even more shocked in this scenario to find Asha wised upon a literal NEW BORN.

[bellaxgiornata]

hiiii

this might seem like a bit of a weird ask, but you seem super nice and i thought it would be okay if i asked you ! (also sorry if this is long)

i’ve been part of the daredevil fandom for a long time and i’ve been writing about dd for over a year and a half now. before i was writing for this fandom, i wrote fanfic about an entirely different genre for like 10+ years. when i was in the other fandom i wrote exclusively on wattpad, and i made a lot of online friends and was a part of writing communities and it made the experience so much better ! but since i changed directions (and started posting on ao3 first and wattpad second) i’ve had a hard time getting into the dd community.

i’m still new to using tumblr for fanfic so i haven’t posted anything of mine here/ followed many writers here (and i’m working on that !). but i was wondering if you had any advice on how to start chitchatting with other people in the fandom ? it feels super cringy for me to be like “i love your work, maybe you’d like mine !” bc i don’t want people to think i’m just trying to promote myself (i promise i’m not). but i miss being involved in online writing communities. it was one of my favorite things in the other fandom and now i’m struggling to find a place here. i try to respond to comments and have reached out to one or two writers before but it didn’t really go anywhere /:

so, tldr; do you have any advice on getting into the writing community/ making friends in the daredevil fandom ?

(and side note i love your work and have been reading your stuff almost as long as i’ve been writing— i’ve reread FFTD so many times and CANNOT WAIT for more updates on TDAYW and ATY !)

thank you !! sorry again this was so long

Hey friend!! This is actually a really great question that I'm sure you're not alone in wondering about! I definitely agree with you though, making friends in the fandom makes the experience so much more enjoyable. I used to write on FFN until I took a couple of years break from fanfic when I was in grad school. I had never made friends in fandom back then because I hadn't found communities and ways to accomplish that via FFN. Even when I came back to fic on AO3 and shortly after I started writing for Matt, I hadn't made friends right off the bat. But I always tried to respond to comments on my stories which is when I started to realize how fun the community was.

My answer is going to be long, so I'm going to put it below the cut! Also anyone else here reading this, if you have tips for making friends, please feel free to share them!!

Honestly tumblr I think is the way to go for making friendships. I have never used wattpad so I can't speak to the way it is set up, but AO3 doesn't quite allow for that too well because we can only communicate via comments. Tumblr gives so many more opportunities to meet lots of others and comment or send messages or share others' content with reblogs.

It's totally not necessary to share your stories on here, but I think that does help. Or to maybe even just promote your updates on your other platforms with links. Because it gives people an opportunity to come here and talk about your stories with you. But I think content creators, whatever you're making, probably make friends a little easier because we are providing something for others to (hopefully) interact with and consume.

As for reaching out to others, I cannot speak to how everyone would react because I know we all have different boundaries, but I think commenting/comment reblogging regularly on writer's or artist's work that you like is a good start. Or sending friendly messages or asks to someone. Just always be sure to be friendly and respectful.

I personally tend to notice the people I'm always seeing chatting in my notifications and then have made friends that way. It just seems like a natural progression if you're often talking to some people, conversations start to shift outside of just that content. Maybe to the show and then to other things. It's how I also tend to interact with others on here in order to make friends; commenting and sharing their work, sending asks or participating in their events, sending a message with something nice in it.

Though I agree, I think your initial comments to someone shouldn't be something about coming to read your work because it feels pressuring. I had a negative experience with that and didn't know how to handle that when I first got into the fandom and it made me uncomfortable because I never want to be rude or hurtful. So instead, maybe find ways to relate as a writer if you see them talking about writing in general, or other ways to make a comment that mentions that you also write. If they have time and want to read your work they will! And if not, that's okay too! I personally have a growing list of TBR and I mean nothing offensive if I can't get to someone's work, I just personally don't have as much time to read for example.

For me, I just sort of fell into making friends on here because of my writing. And I met so many other talented artists because of that and I've become "fans" of them as well and have had friendships form that way. And it's not just content creators, I've made friends with many wonderful people in the community who are reading my works too! It's fun to chat and dissect the show or to relate about other things (I'm a mom and have met other lovely moms here).

So my advice is to just keep reaching out and talking to people! Some conversations might lead somewhere and some might not. And that's okay! Everyone is different. I personally think the Daredevil fandom as a whole is absolutely amazing and full of wonderful and talented individuals who are more often than not open to making friends ❤️ I always am!

And like I said above, for anyone that has any other tips, please feel free to add them!

(And thank you so much!!! ❤️ I'm so glad you enjoy those stories!!)

[lorata]

I’m loving the “outsider/insider perspective” fic that’s going on re: the Games. Your Rowan and Blake, @cloversworldsblog’s bit about the outlier Victors and Alec, it’s so good and it helps add so many layers to the worldbuilding! The idea of the people who “know” (or think they do) the Games, and yet, they really don’t know everything.

For Rowan, the thing that caught me was the whole attitude about the 74th being a love story-how clearly the Centre sees that it’s just that, a story, how the rules change wasn’t ever going to last, even how Katniss was fully prepared to shoot Peeta in the end (a kind of ruthlessness Two would begrudgingly approve of). But even though they *know* it’s just an angle, the word comes down from the Capitol, and Two falls in line, parrots the storyline even though they don’t believe it.

Also, I’d love to see a story with Two’s Mentors (it would have to be Two, One is too resentful and Four is in that odd space) dealing with the outlier Districts, and just flat out telling them, “You would have done the exact same thing if you had the chance. To save your children, you would make the same choice we did, and if you deny it you’re lying.”

"You would have done the exact same thing if you had the chance" is exactly the undercurrent and the tension that plays in a lot of the mentor interactions, and I swore I wrote that precise line in a Ronan scene somewhere but I can't find it so maybe I imagined it? or maybe it's just like ............ so steeped in all the unsaid even though he's never actually said it aloud, haha

I'm really loving the discussions and interplay that's coming out of things lately as well! Chaff's "I'm nothing like him" (Alec) is incredibly damning but it IS the mystique that the Capitol -- and the Centre machine itself -- work so very hard to maintain on many different levels. D2 kids die, yes, but choose to be there. D2 victor prostitution is "different" because they choose their targets; they aren't sold, they're selling themselves. D2 victors might be disfigured or traumatized but they wanted this so they can't complain.

as someone who was around in the early 2010s and saw how the prevailing fandom attitudes were basically ... well, the above, it's really gratifying to see such rich, nuanced conversations happening around all the districts and the propaganda that goes into keeping the people divided. partly due to people growing up but even new & young fans are having these discussions, partly, i think, due to like ... world events that have happened since. a 14yo in 2012 has had a very, very different life experience than a 14yo in 2022

also just as an aside since you mentioned it, Katniss and Peeta have very different skillsets as far as the Centre is concerned and it makes for fascinating watching. Peeta has the crowd work while Katniss does not -- they point this out, that he's the one who's been giving her audience appeal, he's the one who (if he weren't bleeding to death) could have walked out with sympathy by throwing the knife away at the same time Katniss pointed the arrow, but he lacks survival skills. Katniss has a singleminded ruthlessness (in the Marco Animorphs sense, where she can see the bright, clear line from A to B) that makes survival possible, but the audience doesn't like her and she makes very little effort to do so until forced. they need each other and it was a fascinating game to analyze, from a strategy standpoint.

the trainers always assumed the rule change would be revoked at an appropriately dramatic point, but they also thought that whoever won would be a disappointment without the other as complement. a weird game to play and no clear resolution, until the kids blew the whole thing up

not one that would work for any of you, indeed