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#I think that means I might not mega fail
rustyelias · 1 month
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results day tomorrow chat I’m so scared… I put so much work into those exams…
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caitlinclarkluver22 · 3 months
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~ Please Please Please ~ P.B a fanfic ( sfw)
inspired by the song by sabrina carpenter
pov: smart!fem! reader x player! paige bueckers
an: so this is my first paige bueckers fanfic, the intros kinda long, but i think it came out pretty good, but there is gonna multiple parts to this, so just let me know if you’d like another one.
remember blue is flashback and purple is lyrics!!
warnings: mention of alcohol, cheating, lying, and mention of sex
“ i know i have good judgment, i know i have good taste. it’s funny and it’s ironic that only i feel that way.”
you’re a senior in college at uconn, your mostly known for being the smartest person in your classes, never failing one grade, getting higher than a 90 at all times, 85 on your bad days.
you were in calculus, to you it was light work. you didn’t really need to study often, having amazing memory and overall good attention span in class.
since you already completed 2 years of college in highschool, having your associates degree, you were already looking forward to getting your bachelor’s degree this year.
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you were collecting your stuff of the desk, putting it in you book bag, ready to go take a break from the series of classes you had just taken.
as you were walking out of the room, you heard someone call your name.
it was your teacher, professor zamora.
“ hey, your the one with all the good test scores right?” , he asked knowing but just wanted to make sure, to ask for a favor.
“ yes…. i am”, you shyly responded, a little nervous at the sudden attention.
“ okay good, so since you have the best grades in the class right now, i was wondering if you were free for another class period.”
free? another class period? what is he trying to imply? i know i might look naive and small, but I’m not stupid to know what men want. i am lesbian after all. although i had my suspicions, i trusted my professor.
“ yes i actually am. why professor?”
“ great! i was just wondering because my next class period is algebra, and….lets just say ive had them for a few years now…anyways, they need help. just pick the one you want and you can tutor them.” , he said praying that she would agree.
although she did have a break for the next two hours, she could spend one of them helping someone, it’s the right thing to do.
“ yes of course! i’m willing to tutor anyone that needs my help.”, you say enthusiastically, ready to help people be the best they could be.
“ great! just come back in around 30 minutes, and by then they should be here.”, your professor said, thankful for your help.
“ okay i got you.” , you said walking out of class, going to grab a bite to eat.
————————————————————————
after the short thirty minutes pass by, you start walking back to the class, praying that this goes well.
as you make your entrance through the door, you see a familiar face.
shes a blonde, tall, blue eyed girl walking to her desk, a purple nike elite backpack on her back (that looks fairly empty ), and a slow sluggish walk .
you could tell who it was from a mile away, it was paige bueckers.
THE paige bueckers.
you noticed her since in your free time u went to go watch the basketball games, cheering for your favorite player on the team, paige obviously. although you went to almost every game, you went unnoticed by her, standing in the back of the crowd just admiring how she played.
you weren’t a mega fan.
you totally didn’t scroll on tiktok, looking and saving the edits you’d find. damn she’s so attractive…
‘ah ah ah, no liking her. she’s in algebra. she’s obviously not smart, not to be mean of course. just observing.’ , you think to yourself as you look around the room, waiting for everyone to take their seats.
it wasn’t only about academics. paige was also known for hopping around from girl to girl, you know this since a couple of your friends had their fair share of dating her.
you were awoken late at night by a loud knock at your door. who could be awake this late?
as you opened the door, you came to a sad sight.
there your friend, lilly, was crying at your doorstep.
she was sobbing, her eyes swollen , puffy, and red due to the amount of uncontrollable tears.
you knew what…or should i say who this was about.
over the course of 2 months, your friend was on and off with her situationship, paige. lilly didnt know wether her and paige were a thing or not, she never knew what paige’s next move would be, little did she know that her next move would be completely ghosting her and pretending like she didn’t exist.
“ i just- i just don’t know what i did wrong. i mean i bought her things, i spent time with her, i supported her at all her games. every single one. how could i be so stupid? i’m literally one of the smartest people in this whole college and im not smart enough to realize that a girl is totally playing me.” , she sobbed grasping onto you like her life depended on it.
“ it’s okay lilly it’s okay, you deserve better.”
although lilly was your friend, karmas a bitch, she should’ve known better, if she had a wish, she would’ve never fucked around with paige ( LMAOOO ).
lilly, yes got hurt, but she was a bad person. in her past she was known for cheating, lying, and stealing. well stealing other people’s hearts of course. she would talk to them, make them fall in love, then drop them after they bought her a gift of some sort.
another one of your well known friends, keisha, always hooked up with paige. whenever paige was bored, she’d text keisha a good “ u up?” late night text , and keisha would be at her dorm room in no time, ready to have good sex.
of course, they weren’t your friends anymore, you realized soon after that lilly was a bad influence since she lied and cheated, while keisha was just to influenced in alcohol and hook up culture.
in essence, this girl was bad news, and she only liked the bad girls, so you’d obviously have to stay far far away from her….
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“ so how do you find x if you don’t have y?”
fuck my life.
“ paige, it’s not that hard. really. i learned this shit in seventh fucking grade, and you can’t get it. look let me show you….again.”, you said irritably, getting impatient by the second. you felt like you’ve taught her over a thousand times.
you guys were in her dorm, on her purple comforter, you were trying to teach her the literal easiest shit ever, and she couldn’t comprehend it. ugh she’s like a toddler.
“ so to find out x i have to add y and…what again?”
kms.
“ UGHHH paigeeeee”, you said, hands in your hair , frustrated with the stupidity this girl had. how could she be so smart on the court, yet so dumb when it came to math?
“ please, i need help, if i don’t pass this then i can’t play basketball. and we both really know how much i love basketball. it’s my everything. please?”, she said, her player facade fading away, showing her true and vulnerable self.
ugh those eyes….
“ …one more time paige. just try your best to get it. concentrate.”
paige nodded and smiled at her, looking down at the paper to attempt to grasp the information that she had trouble with.
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“ I ACED IT”, paige screamed, jumping up and down.
“ REALLY?”, you said eyes wide.
“ YES YES YES, omg i’m so happy right now!”, paige said , her eyes showing the pure raw excitement paige had.
paige then unexpectedly embraced you in a hug, it catching you off guard, but nonetheless, you hugged back.
if you knew the hug was wrong…..why did it feel so right?
you guys stood there for a solid minute, embracing eachother. you inhaled, smelling the sweet scent she radiated.
“ okay well i gotta go”, you said, sad knowing that this would be the last time that u had an excuse to spend time with her.
“ yea- um same.”, she said, giving u a slightly forced smile.
as you were walking away , sadness filling ur heart, u heard someone shout your name.
it was paige.
“ hey um, what about i take you to dinner?..you know just to thank you for all the work you’ve done to help me of course.”, she said with a hopeful look, her bright blue eyes illuminating like the pacific ocean.
how could i say no to those eyes?
“ um..you know what…yea of course. tommorow at 9 sounds good?”, you said , happier than you’d like to admit.
“ i promised’em that your different, and everyone makes mistakes. but just don’t.”
“ i’m telling you, you shouldn’t surround yourself around her, she’s a bad influence! she literally broke your ex friends hearts! both of them! paige isn’t a good girl to fall in love with.”, dominique one of your most recent friends said, stressed out about your love life right now.
“ i mean, she asked me out to dinner…”
“….she what? don’t tell me you said yes…”
“ i said yes.”
————————————————————————-
“ don’t bring me to tears when i just did my makeup so nice.”
you finished up your final touches in your makeup, when u got a text message.
pb and j
hey pretty girl
i’m here
i’m going.
as you came out your dorm, paige was there at your door checking her breath, startled by your sudden appearance, she smiled awkwardly, bringing up lego roses to your face.
how did she know that i didn’t like real flowers? and that i love legos?
your heart warmed at the sight, smiling at her, full teeth on display.
“ thank you paige, you shouldn’t have, really.”, you said, almost feeling bad that she spent money on you that she shouldn’t have.
“ no no no it’s my pleasure honestly.” , she said with a grin, sighing , relieved that you liked the gift.
“ let’s get going?”, you said.
“ whoever is last is the rotten egg!”, she yelled loudly, before running down the hall making her way down the stairs.
————————————————————————
“i heard your an actor, so act like a stand-up guy. whatever devils inside you, don’t let him out tonight.”
they’re at the restaurant, it’s way fancier than you expected. the waiter sat you guys down, and now both of you are looking at the menu.
when the waiter comes back, both of you agreed on chicken alfredo, and both of you got dr. pepper.
you guys start making conversation, talking about the things you didn’t know about eachother , and your goals in life.
————————————————————————
as you guys finished with your delicious meal, you decided that it was time to leave and go home. it was getting late after all.
as both of you walked out, the moon shining bright on your faces, the date unfortunately coming to an end, you guys talked a bit more, laughing at eachother jokes.
“ well that was fun.”, paige said, laughing, her teeth as bright as the stars.
“ yea it really was…”, you say with a smile on your face that couldn’t be removed no matter how hard you tried. a smile so permanent that it ached.
you guys gazed into eachothers eyes, her eyes taking a trip down to your lips, slowly bringing them back to your eyes once again.
“ paige i-“
you got cut off by paige, as she brought her lips to yours, sealing the night in a fond memory of the kiss you shared, the kiss that was between the two of you.
after a while, you opened your eyes and looked at her. she had her goofy smile on, looking at you with….i think love…? no couldn’t be. just lust.
“ um we should do this again. “
say no say no.
“ yes of course”, you said with a smile.
“ okay well…see you later. i’ll text you! “, paige said as she back peddled to her car, winking at you, before running to the vehicle .
god she’s such a goof.
as you got in your car, you only had one thought while having your head on the wheel, thinking about all the occurrences that had happened over the past few months. even though you knew it might end up bad, you couldn’t help but think…
please please please, don’t prove em right.
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WOOHOOO I FINISHED IT DONT PLAYYY!!! i was literally working on this for hours and my friend dominique was helping me with it too( literally love her )!! anyways hope you enjoy and make sure to lmk if yall want a second part or not!!! 💕💕 sorry if it’s bad ik i misspelled a couple i think and definitely misworded but not so bad to the point where you won’t get it. LOVE YAAA!!!💕
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skydaemon · 1 month
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so lyctors are infertile yes? at least mercy appears to be, and it's strongly implied that the reason is her lyctorhood. all necromancers are known to struggle w fertility (see: harrow's parents) which iirc is bc of their link to death, so i'm guessing actually having an ever-dying/ever-living soul combo meal is not to the benefit of conception.
the reason this matters to me is that anastasia (who, as a post by @ferretsarefurryappendagedsnakes brought up, is NOT listed as a saint to serve the king undying in the htn opening) did have children. she's harrow's direct ancestor, hence alecto king-konging her at the end of nona. she is the only lyctor we know of to have living descendants. now the details on exactly what the lyctoral timeline was post-resurrection are murky, but i do imagine it taking less than their natural lifespans for all the lyctors to ascend and anastasia to fail. that means anastasia's line has been around for 10,000 years, give or take - ~400 generations. For context, the Western Roman Empire fell 60-70 generations ago. For her to still have living descendants (especially with the known fertility rate of necromancers and the fact that necromancy appears to be inherited, at least in part) is absurd. it's ridiculous to think harrow's the only descendant - i mean, even being mega-conservative about birth rates, there could be dozens, if not hundreds. some of the babies from the genocide might well have been the blood of anastasia.
it must be fucking insane for the lyctors to see harrow, to have lived with her for months. she's supposedly the spit of anastasia. 10,000 years, 400 generations, and she's right there.
basically i'm desperate for someone (ideally alecto, bc it's totally in character for her) to have a QoTD Great Family moment and realise exactly how long 10,000 years is for people and how many of anastasia's descendants are alive. maybe some of them even escaped the nine houses? idk, it just makes me emotional and i want it to make THEM emotional
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pupyr0arz · 5 months
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alpha reader, omega 141
oh this could go a lot of ways….I’m going to assume you mean in the constraints of traditional omegaverse instead of its many aus.
They hand you the files, pat you on the back as you file out to your new assignment. You get wolf whistles and cheers from your squadmates as they congratulate you on the spot. You should be reveling in it, basking in the praise because goddammit you earned this. One of the highest performing units in the SAS, you’ve clawrd your way to the pinnacle and it’s proof.
Except there’s no way you got the spot organically. The 141 is mythical half for its records, and half because every single operative is an omega.
You’re not an Alpha-supremist but the military is heavily slanted to A’s and B’s, if just it’s history. ‘Megas rarely sign up, rarely get promoted, and you couldn’t really think of how it might be to work like that surrounded by A’s. Except now you have to, otherwise your new ‘mega captain might shoot you in the face for putting your foot in your mouth. You almost want to ask for a couple hours to scoot off base and see if you can scrounge up some inhibitors.
You can’t see the assignment going well. Asides from their origins as a O captain seeking exclusively Os, they’re fresh from being in the cold after former General Shepard tried to pin the Mexican shitstorm on their task force. No one, not you and especially not them, are going to see your addition as anything but an attempt to wrangle them, assert some control.
It’s going to be a long few months.
You push the door open, refusing to allow yourself to falter or stall. If you’re here to act like a Alpha, you’re going to goddamnit. You bite your lip at the sudden rush of stimuli, the office reeks of ‘mega, it’s nearly obscene. It smells like your captain had spent a good hour marking every damn thing in his office, like it’s some kind of nest and it sends your heart thumping, instincts through the roof. You wrench your attention to him, and he sits eyes narrowed at the desk.
Deliberate mind games. You swallow back the saliva and meet Captain Price’s gaze, only allowing yourself the bite of your nails in your palm as a counterweight. He smells earthy, richly sweet and you want to press your face into his neck to understand the intricacies of it, see how sweet you can get it from him. Instead, you suck in breaths through your teeth, and greet him with a stiff nod.
You will not fail this test.
“Sergeant.” Price says gruffly, not bothering to say your name. “Sit.”
You get half a second to enjoy the cool air of the hallway after one of the more intense interviews of your career until you’re accosted again. It’s a hand pressed between your shoulder blades, inches too close to your neck than your instincts are comfortable that has you whirling, biting back on the urge to lift a lip and snarl. Blue eyes and a mischevious, and fuck you that’s sugar.
“Calm yer tits there, mate,” the Sergeant, Mac-something, says with a barking laugh. “Welcome ta 141, FNG.”
You try a toothless smile.
I could expand on this but essentially soap teases him, Gaz interrogates reader on any relationship and Simon is so distant reader can (very relieved) pretend hes a beta.
this the direction you hoped for? If not, I’d be happy to take a crack at another angle.
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thus-spoke-lo · 2 years
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cw: nsfw [minors DNI]. kind of crack-ish. drunk reader. gendered nicknames for reader (ex. little lady, missy). post-timeskip franky. wc: 730
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“So I gotta ask… what kind of upgrades do you have on that thing now anyway?”
“Whaddya mean?” Franky raises his goggles to glance over at you in your spot on the floor on the other side of the room, where you sit tipsy and highly unproductive.
You take a swig from the clear bottle held tightly in your grasp, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “You know, like, what kind of extras do you come with these days?”
He furrows his brow, cocking his head slightly. “I mean, you’ve seen most of it. I got cannons, I got missiles. Uhh, I got—”
“No. Listen. Listen.” You lean forward in your spot on the floor and try to lower your voice, failing completely. “I mean what kind of equipment are you working with?”
He raises a suspicious eyebrow, setting his blowtorch to the side. “I feel like you wanna ask me something in particular.”
“Well yeah, but I can’t just say it,” you opine with an eye roll. “So are you… ya know… fully functional?”
He leans on the work table next to him, a vaguely uncomfortable smile starting to form. “Listen little lady, I think I’m gonna need a hint here.”
“Okay, fine, fine.” You sigh and set your bottle to the side as you stand up, chuckling to yourself at how utterly hilarious you think you are. “You got any crazy metal dildos or anything now? Got some like, corkscrew cock that comes out of your elbow or something? A mega-dildo hidden in your shoulder? Dick-missiles maybe?”
“Whoa, what?” He gazes at you incredulously, his mouth agape. “Where’d that come from?”
“Oh come on, like you wouldn’t, you pervert,” you wheeze, tickled at the fact you finally had the gumption to ask the cyborg about his upgraded appendages, charmed by how downright flummoxed he seemed to be getting over it. “You have headlights where your nipples are for fuck’s sake, why wouldn’t I be safe to assume you gave yourself some crazy multi-dildo pinwheel or something?”
“Well, I mean, you have a point,” he stammers, one hand behind his head, eyes looking anywhere in the room but where you stood. “But just because I’m a pervert doesn’t mean I’m gonna have a buncha crazy sex stuff on me!”
“Oh really?” You take a few steps towards him, batting your lashes, grinning wickedly. “Nothing extra? Nothing at all? All that time spent making your body this impressive, and you’re telling me you didn’t add anything fun?”
A deep blush spreads across his face as he backs up against the wall. “Why you wanna know so bad, anyway?”
“I’m a mechanic,” you shrug as you stand before his massive form, bodies mere inches from each other. “Call it professional curiosity.”
He swallows thickly. “Seems a little unprofessional to be askin’ me if I got any metal dicks, you know.”
“Well, then consider me unprofessional.” You place one hand on his arm, feeling the cool of the steel under your palm; the sensation sends a chill down your spine.
“Seriously though,” he says, looking down at you, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth, “why you askin’ me about my equipment, pretty lady?”
“I dunno.” You walk your fingers up his massive forearm, wondering what kind of sensations you’re causing. “Thought it might be fun to see what you’re packing.”
“Oh, I see.” His eyes widen and his smirk turns into a wide, toothy grin that stretches across his face. “You got some liquid courage in ya and wanna see exactly what Franky has to offer, is that it?”
“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it,” you murmur, your hand settling on his broad chest, wondering if he already knew. “Just a little bolder at the moment, I suppose.”
“So you really wanna know, huh?” One arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in, closing the gap between you.
You gasp as you feel yourself pinned against the ripple of hard muscle and metal. You compose yourself enough to respond, “Very, very much so.”
“Well, I’ll tell ya then.” He grips your wrist and guides it down the powerful steely contours of his body, coming to rest on the growing hardness in the front of his swim briefs, the size of it almost worryingly impressive in your palm. “I don’t require any extras, little missy—got everything you need right here.”
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sattlersquarry · 2 years
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the end is here (steve harrington x gn!reader)
Summary: (Season 4 adjacent) Your boyfriend Steve Harrington is keeping secrets from you, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it. (Title comes from "I Know The End" by Phoebe Bridgers.)
This is a direct continuation of the video store frame-up of '86. You don't have to read that one to get it but I recommend it!
Word Count: ~5.3k
Warnings: angst up the wazoo w/ a happy ending, language, mentions of sex, some violence and mentions of medical emergencies/broken legs/painkillers.
A/N: Tonally, this is quite different from the video store frame up of '86 but I wanted to explore what it'd be like to be an outsider in Hawkins during Season 4 when all the shit is going down.
gif is from the Netflix giphy account
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March, 1986
Working with Steve is fun, and your relationship blossoms the more time you spend together. However, there’s still a nagging thought in the back of your mind—the thought that he’s keeping something from you. Something big. You ignore it as best you can, but you have a feeling that your curiosity is going to catch up to you. 
And it does the day you clock into your shift and see Steve, Robin, and two of their friends searching the Family Video database for an unfamiliar name.
“Uh, who’s Rick Lipton,” you say, “and why are you four stalking his rental history?” 
The group whirls around, startled by your sudden appearance. 
“Y/N! Hey!” Steve says. He angles his body so you can’t read the computer. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for my shift, same as you,” you say. You crane your neck to get a better look at the screen. “So, does he have mega late fees or something?”
“Who?” Robin asks innocently.
“Who else? Rick Lipton, the guy you’re looking up.” 
“It’s nothing like that,” the curly-haired boy with them says. He’s Dustin, one of Steve’s closest friends. 
The name of the girl, with plaited red hair and sharp blue eyes, escapes you. Margie…Melanie…Meg…it starts with an M. You’re certain of that much. 
“Max and Dustin were just leaving,” Steve says, giving them a look.
Max! That was it. 
“But we need you to drive us,” Max says to Steve. 
“Drive to Rick’s?” you guess. “Why?”
Steve looks different than you’ve ever seen him. He’s agitated. Not the kind of agitated you’re used to: frustrated with Keith’s many demands or annoyed with his role as resident carpool king. No, he seems…scared. 
“Rick and Dustin have a mutual friend,” Steve says coolly, attempting to assuage your curiosity (and failing). “We just need to check up on him, that’s all.” 
“And it’s a time-sensitive matter,” Dustin says. “So we need to go now.”
He starts dragging Steve and Robin toward the front doors, Max on their heels. 
“Can’t it wait?” you say. “I can’t run the store myself!”
“Sorry!” Robin says with an apologetic grin. “We’ll make it up to you! I’ll cover any shift, promise!”
Steve wrenches free from Dustin’s grasp. He returns to the counter, and you think he’s going to say he won’t leave you alone. 
Instead, he reaches under the counter to grab his jacket and car keys. 
“I’m so sorry to ditch,” he says quietly. “Seriously, I know this is a dick move.”
“Mm-hm,” you say, eyes narrowed.
“But it’s important. Dustin’s friend might be in danger.”
“What kind of danger?” 
“I can’t tell you.”
You scowl.
“Please don’t be pissed,” Steve begs. “It’s a slow day, and Keith will be around later. You’ve got this!”
You’re mad. But you’re also a bit worried. Steve’s very responsible and wouldn’t leave unless it was important. And he still looks so scared…
“Steve…what’s really going on?” You step closer and lower your voice. “Is everything okay with you? I mean, I know you’re worried about Dustin’s friend, but—“
“I’m fine,” Steve says. He kisses your temple. “I’ll call you tonight. Okay?”
You nod and force a smile, watching him race out of the store and unlock his car for his friends. They pile into the BMW and zip away. 
Someone clears their throat. You snap your head to the right, where a punk kid with spiky hair stands by the cassettes. 
“Do you have the newest Madonna tape?” he asks, shocking you with his music taste, considering his whole vibe. 
“Uh, yeah,” you say, thankful for the distraction. “I’ll help you find it.”
***
Steve doesn’t call you that night. Or the next morning. 
And when you arrive for your next shift, you’re greeted by Keith at the counter, not Steve or Robin. 
“Where’s Steve?” you ask. 
“Your loverboy called in sick,” Keith says, before taking a huge bite of a breakfast burrito. You wince as he continues talking with his mouth full: “Buckley is sick too, so it’s just you and me today.”
“Great,” you say flatly. Both Steve and Robin being sick the same day isn’t inherently suspicious—they are best friends and hang out all the time. But after what transpired yesterday, their absence is fishy. 
That, plus the fact that Steve had the time to call Keith and not you, sours your mood. 
“And since they’re out, I’ll need you to work a double.”
“Fantastic,” you snap. “That's exactly how I wanted to spend my Sunday.” 
“Hey!” Keith says. “No sass. Family Video employees must remain upbeat and positive at all times. We want our establishment to be a welcoming place. Not a dark hole of pessimism…like Blockbuster.”
You plaster on a big, fake grin.
“Much better,” Keith says smugly, before disappearing to the back room to file some paperwork. 
The day drags on. There isn’t much traffic to the store, due to the announcement that not one but two Hawkins High students were killed. People seem too scared to go anywhere or do much of anything. 
On your lunch break, you call the Harrington house. No answer. Either Steve is too sick to reach for the phone on his nightstand, which frightens you, or he’s off with his friends.
You wonder if Dustin’s friend, the one they went to find, is one of the victims. The thought makes your stomach twist. Maybe that’s why you hadn’t heard from Steve or why he wasn’t home—he needed to comfort the younger boy through his grief. 
When it’s finally closing time, you decide to drive by the Harrington house to check in. No BMW in the driveway confirms that he’s definitely not home sick. 
You feel a bit sick yourself wondering where he is and what’s going on. 
***
The next day is your day off. You call Steve first thing when you wake up. You also drive by his house again after breakfast. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth…
…until you take a shortcut down Maple Street and see his BMW parked at the Wheeler’s house.
You haven’t heard from him in two days, and his car is at his ex-girlfriend Nancy’s house. You feel numb. 
Steve didn’t seem like the type of person to stoop to infidelity, but you haven’t known him for that long. And he (and his friends) are definitely keeping something from you. Maybe all that “Rick Lipton” stuff was a cover-up so Steve could hang out with his friends and cozy up with his ex. 
You hate how jealous you feel. You hate how it makes you want to cry, scream, and throw a brick through the BMW’s windshield.
Against your better judgment, you park by the curb and stomp toward the front door. You aren’t usually a confrontational person, but you feel a spark of anger that won’t be tamped down unless you get some answers. 
You ring the doorbell and knock, for good measure. A tired-looking, middle-aged man opens the door.
“Can I help you?” Mr. Wheeler drawls.
“Is Steve here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
“The troublemakers are in the basement,” he says. He sarcastically adds, “We already have enough guests to legally be considered a hotel. What’s one more?” 
Mr. Wheeler opens the door a bit wider and allows you in, pointing you in the direction of the basement door. You thank him before charging down the steps. 
Dustin and Max are down there, along with their other friend Lucas. Max scribbles furiously at the desk while the boys sit on the sofa, heads bent low while they discuss something with hushed voices.
“Where’s Steve?” you demand, scanning the room as if you expect him to pop out from behind a corner. 
“Whoa!” Lucas says. “How’d you get in here Y/N?” 
“Mr. Wheeler let me in. He’s a real peach. So. Steve?” 
“He’s upstairs in Nancy’s room,” Dustin says. 
Your eyes widen.
“Not like that!” Dustin says quickly, sensing the miscommunication. “They’re just talking!” 
“Talking alone in her room?” 
“To be fair,” Lucas says, “Robin’s there too, so it’s not like it’s romantic.”
“And it wouldn’t be!” Dustin says. “Steve only has eyes for you. He told me so.”
“You, and Phoebe Cates,” Lucas corrects.
“Right. You, Phoebe Cates, and maybe Cindy Crawford.”
“Definitely Cindy Crawford,” Lucas says. “Have you seen her?”
Max turns in her seat and glares at Lucas. He gulps.
“I mean, Cindy’s not my type. But Steve loves her.”
Your turn to glare.
“Not as much as he loves you!” Lucas says. He turns to Dustin. “We’re making things worse, aren’t we?” 
“Yes,” you say. “I’m gonna go talk to him.” 
“You can’t,” Dustin says. “They’re a bit preoccupied. And I know that sounds suspicious, but I promise. Steve isn’t cheating on you.” 
“Then what is he doing?” you say. “And why hasn’t he called me?” 
“All good questions,” Dustin says. “But I can’t answer them.” He gestures to an armchair nearby. “You can wait for Steve if you want. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” 
You consider it, but this whole situation is weirding you out. What are Steve, Robin, and Nancy so preoccupied with anyway? Does it have to do with the murders? And why won’t anyone just tell you what’s going on?!
“I have to go,” you say, voice clipped. “Just tell him to call me.” 
You storm up the stairs and out of the house. A sense of dread overwhelms you—dread that threatens to swallow you whole. 
***
At around 11 o’clock that night, someone knocks at your apartment door. 
In a half-asleep stupor, you stumble to it, gripping your baseball bat. No one should be visiting this late, unless—
“Y/N? It’s Steve! Can we talk?”
You huff and put the bat down, opening the door for your (sheepish-looking) boyfriend.
Your facial expression remains stony as you study him. 
“Hey,” he says. He clears his throat. “Can I come in?”
In lieu of a response, you turn on your heel and stomp to your couch. Steve locks the door behind him and follows.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, sitting next to you. He reaches to put an arm around you, and you pull away. He deflates. “Babe—”
“Is this the part where you say you can’t tell me what’s going on?” you snap. “And you promise to call me tomorrow, but then you don’t, and the only reason I’ll know you aren’t dead is because I’ll see your car at your fucking ex-girlfriend’s house?” 
Steve closes his eyes and sighs.
“I deserve that. But it’s not what you think. Whatever you think is going on, I promise, it’s not that.”
“So, what is going on?” you say. 
He turns away and rubs his face.
“I—”
“You’re sorry,” you deadpan. “Why don’t you throw in one more? Best things come in threes, you know.” 
You’re being unfair. You know this. Steve’s obviously very upset about something, and you’re being too harsh. But the way he’s acting, and the way he’s not giving you a real answer why, is driving you insane. 
He hesitates and reaches for your hand. You allow him to take it.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. His eyes are wide and mournful and desperate. “But I just can’t talk about it. Not right now. I’ll make it up to you. Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” 
You take a deep breath and feel your anger evaporate at his sincereness. 
“You could start by kissing me?” you say.
Steve’s face splits into a grin and he leans in, kissing you softly.
Well, it starts soft. The heat picks up a bit too fast for your liking, and you push him away. 
“Whoa buddy,” you say. “I’m so not in the mood for make-up sex right now.” 
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, blushing. “I didn’t mean to push.”  
“I actually need to get some sleep,” you say. “Care to join me?” 
“I really should be getting back,” Steve says, glancing at his watch. “Max is going through a really hard time right now. She needs as much support as she can get.”
You want to know more details, so you try not to be too specific and ask, “Do you think she’ll be okay?” 
Steve nods.
“She’s strong,” he says. “She’ll be fine. She has to be.” 
He kisses you goodnight and leaves. 
This time, he doesn’t promise to call. You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse.
***
The next night, Steve shows up again much too late, looking as if he’s seen a ghost.
He’s wearing the same navy polo and jeans from yesterday. You don’t know how you feel about that, as the reminder that Max and the group are staying at Nancy Wheeler’s house rattles around in your head.
“How’s Max?” you ask, pouring Steve a cup of tea.
“She’s a bit better,” he says. He rubs his eyes. “It’s sort of…touch and go.”
You sit across from him at the table with your own mug and ask, “I hope I’m not being insanely nosy, but is she…sick?”
“Not really sick, exactly. At least, not physically.” Steve hesitates before adding, “She’s grieving. She lost her brother Billy at Starcourt. She hasn’t been the same since then.”
The Starcourt Fire of 1985. It was a big stain on Hawkins history, along with the myriad of disappearances, deaths, and government conspiracies that marred the town’s legacy. 
You aren’t sure how to respond. You settle for drinking your tea in a slightly uncomfortable silence. 
“You know,” you say after a beat, “I have a bunch of old board games and movies. I could bring them over to the Wheeler’s place tomorrow if Max wants to check them out. It might lift her spirits.”
“No,” Steve says quickly. Off your hurt look, he says, “No, sorry. I mean, we won’t be at the Wheeler’s tomorrow. We’re going for a drive.” 
“A drive?” 
“Yeah, a drive in the…in the countryside. So Max can clear her head.”
He’s lying to you. He’s lying to you and he’s bad at it and it makes you sad and mad all at once. 
“Please, for the love of god, cut the bullshit,” you say. You slam your tea down harder than intended and it sloshes across the tabletop. “What are you guys actually doing?”
Frustration flashes across his features.
“I told you, I really can’t tell you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t say that! It’s not!” Steve says, voice raising. He stands from the table. “I can’t tell you! Why can’t you just accept that?”
You stand as well, crossing your arms.
“You’ve got to at least get your story straight if you’re going to lie, deceive, and leave me out!” you yell. “What is this really about? Because first it was all about Dustin’s friend, and now it’s Max. Or does it have something to do with the murders?” 
Steve goes ghostly pale at the mention of the recent killings.
“I won’t tell you,” Steve says firmly, a fraction more calm than he was moments before. “It’s too dangerous.”
“So it does have to do with the—”
“I have to go,” Steve says, storming toward the front door.
“Steve Harrington, you get back here!” you call, following him. 
Too late. He’s out the door, slamming it behind him. 
As soon as he’s gone, your resolve just crumbles. You cry. You cry, because your sweet, sensitive boyfriend is acting like a different person. You cry because he’s obviously hurting and in some kind of trouble but won’t talk about it, making it impossible to help him. You cry because you don’t want to lose him, because you’ve only been dating for a short time but you might love him. Because you aren’t sure how much longer you can do this.
***
You’re back at the Family Video the next day, working alongside Keith and Randy, a former employee home from college on spring break. Randy’s a pretentious film student who won’t shut up about movies you’ve never seen. It makes you wish you were working with Steve today, despite last night’s argument. You aren’t even sure if Steve wants to be your boyfriend anymore, and that thought tortures you all day. 
“The Godfather is a perfect film,” Randy drones as the two of you log returns in the computer. “Have you seen it?” 
“No, I prefer comedies.” 
Randy scoffs. 
“Oh, that drivel?”
“Comedy is not drivel!” you protest. “People need to laugh sometimes.” 
You spend the rest of your shift defending your favorite movies, and you seriously consider whacking Randy upside the head when he insults The Muppets Take Manhattan. 
Again, you drive past Steve’s house, and are surprised to see his car parked in its usual spot. 
“Steve?” you call, banging on the door. “It’s Y/N. Are you home? Can we talk?” 
You continue knocking and shouting for him to answer, to no avail. Eventually, his next-door neighbor yells for you to shut it, so you leave. 
At 2:30 in the morning, your phone rings. You mumble a “Hello?” into the receiver, wondering if you’re dreaming.
“Hey, Y/N.” 
It’s Steve. You figured as much. Who else would call so late? 
“Hey,” you say, feeling more awake than you did before. 
Part of you wonders if this is evidence of some kind of shift in your relationship. Maybe Steve doesn’t want to actually date you anymore. Maybe he just wants to sleep with you, and that’s why he’s only been visiting and calling late at night, and not talking about what’s going on. You don’t like that thought. 
“I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Steve says with a deep sigh.  
He sounds weary, and almost hoarse. This panics you. Under normal circumstances, you’d think he was just sick. But now, you aren’t sure what to think. 
“Steve, where are you?” 
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does! Are you okay? You sound weak.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I don’t mean it as an insult! Seriously. Do you need me to come get you? Or call an ambulance, or something?”
“I’m fine, Y/N. Just tired. Tired, and missing you.” 
“Well, then, why don’t you come over?” you say. You tamp down your worry and try a different tactic: “Maybe we can finally give that make-up sex a try.” 
You hear a chorus of “Ew, gross!” and “Gag me with a spoon.” 
“Sorry, I should’ve told you,” Steve mumbles, “I’m not alone.”
“Yeah, I got that now. Is Max doing okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. We're at her place now. I just wanted to…no, I needed to call you and say sorry. These past few days, I’ve been really shitty to you.”
“You kind of have been,” you say. “But I haven’t been very supportive. I’m sorry too. Whatever’s going on, I hope it, um…gets better.”
“Thanks,” Steve says. “Oh, and about the make-up sex—can we get a rain check?”
“I’ll see if I can pencil you in my busy social schedule,” you tease. “Call me tomorrow night?” 
“I will,” Steve says. His voice wavers and he adds, “I promise.” 
***
The next night, he does call. Still wearing his gear from the Vecna battle, he calls your house from the hospital payphone minutes after Max is wheeled into surgery. 
“Pick up, pick up!” he grumbles. “Why aren’t they answering?!” 
“Have you tried calling Family Video?” Robin says. “It’s inventory night. Keith always makes us stay late for inventory.”
“Oh, fuck,” Steve says. He looks at Robin with panicked eyes. “We were supposed to be there for inventory. Did you remember to call out for us?”
“I thought you did!”
“Here’s some more quarters,” Nancy says, appearing from around the corner with a handful of coins. “After you call Y/N, I need to call Max’s mom and the Sinclairs. Robin, have you called your family yet?” 
Steve dials the Family Video number and waits with bated breath. He groans when the call doesn’t connect. He needs to hear your voice, to know you’re okay after the earthquake. 
Unfortunately, you are far from okay. 
You’re at the store doing inventory with Randy, listening to more of his dry takes, when the earthquake hits.
Randy immediately begins to panic.
“There’s no tub!” he screams over the sound of the rattling earth.
“Huh?!” you yell back, holding onto the counter for dear life.
“In an earthquake, you’re supposed to hide in a tub!” He scans the room and gasps. “Or a doorframe!”
He darts toward the doorframe that leads to the back room. 
“Randy, stop running!” you scream. “You’ll hurt yourself!”
You notice a tall shelf of tapes tip forward and you surge ahead, pushing Randy out of the way as the shelf hits the ground. In the scuffle, one of your legs gets pinned underneath it. 
A bloodcurdling scream echoes through the store. It takes you a minute to realize the sound is coming from you and not from some banshee.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Randy yells. “Y/N, are you okay?” 
The earthquake slows, the violent shaking making way for a quiet rumble. He runs back to you and tries to lift the shelf off of you, with no luck. 
“It’s too heavy,” he says, face pinched with fear and a bit of guilt. “Can you move your leg at all?” 
You wince and shake your head, tears running down your face.
“I can’t move it,” you say. You sniffle. “It hurts really really bad.”
“I’ll call for help!” Randy says. He grabs the phone off the counter and curses. He tries the second phone, and then races to Keith’s office to try the third. “No signal. I guess the quake took out the telephone lines. I’ll go get someone!” 
“Don’t leave me!” you cry out. “Please!” 
“I’ll be right back,” Randy says. “I promise! And I’ll reevaluate my stance on comedies, just for you.” 
“I appreciate that,” you say through sobs. 
Randy rushes out into the night, and you hear him shouting, “Hey, hey! We need an ambulance!” 
As you lay alone in the video store in unimaginable pain, you worry. You worry about Steve and his friends, hoping they fared better than you in the natural disaster. You worry about your leg, wondering if you’ll ever be able to use it the same again. You worry that you wasted your time being upset with Steve, and—in a particularly dark moment—you worry that you may never see him again. 
After what feels like an eternity, Randy returns with a group of paramedics.
“Hey there,” one of them says. “Are you Y/N?” 
“The one and only,” you say through gritted teeth. “I can’t feel my leg anymore. Are you going to have to amputate it? Please say no.” 
“Amputations are rare,” another paramedic reassures you. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get this thing off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?” 
***
The rest of the night is a blur for you. The paramedics free your leg and pump you full of so many painkillers, it’s hard to focus on much of anything. 
You don’t feel fully like yourself again until the next morning, when you wake up in a hospital bed with a bright blue cast on your leg. 
A soft snore to your left indicates company. You are so relieved to see it’s—
“Steve!” you shout, startling him awake. “What happened to your neck?!” 
“Y/N, oh my god,” Steve says, jumping from the armchair he was uncomfortably squished into. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”
“Did someone choke you?” you say, sitting up against your pillows. “Who do I need to fight?”
“You aren’t fighting anyone until that’s gone,” Steve says, pointing to your cast. He gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, careful of your leg. “Geez, I was so worried about you. I called and called, both the store and your house, and then I saw some paramedics bring you in on a stretcher, and I just panicked. I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”
You reach over and hold both of his hands with yours. He smiles at you, but his eyes are sad. 
“I’m here,” you say. You wince. “My leg hurts like hell, and I’ll probably never walk, run, or swim as fast as I used to, but I’m here.” 
“I’m so glad you are,” he says quietly. He sucks in a breath. “Max got really badly hurt in…in the quake. She’s unconscious and they don’t know when…if…she’ll wake up.” 
“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry.”
You pull him into a hug, and he holds you tightly. 
You know you should keep your mouth shut and just be in this moment with him, but a nagging thought in your mind won’t leave you alone.
“Steve,” you say quietly, pulling away. “I don’t usually believe in ultimatums, because things aren’t usually so black-and-white. But I’m about to give you one. Please don’t hate me.” 
Worry flashes in his eyes. He shakes his head. 
“I could never hate you,” he says, voice cracking. 
You squeeze his hands and say: “If you can’t be honest with me about what’s going on, I think we have to break up.” 
Steve’s eyes widen. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, before he can say anything. “I know that’s so unfair. But what’s a relationship without honesty and communication, and we just…don’t have that at the moment. I have the sneaking suspicion that this earthquake and the killings are connected, and I think you know more than you’re letting on. The earthquake did this—” You gesture to your leg. “And I feel like I have a right to know the truth. To know what’s hurting you. Please, Steve. Just tell me.” 
You watch his facial expression. Unreadable emotions flick across his features, and you can tell he’s brainstorming. Thinking hard, trying to determine the right thing to say next. 
“Y/N,” he says, voice low. “It’s dangerous. Really dangerous. I don’t want to involve you if I can help it.” 
“Steve—”
“I don’t want you to get hurt—”
“I already got hurt!”
“I won’t put you in any more danger,” Steve says. He looks about two seconds from sobbing, but he says, “Ignorance is bliss, right?” 
It guts you to do so, but you gingerly drop his hands. 
“Okay.” 
“Y/N, can we just—”
“I think you should leave.” You can’t even look at him as you say it, instead staring at some wilting daisies on the windowsill. 
Steve opens his mouth as if he’s going to protest, but closes it and nods.
“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he whispers.
You nod, despite the part of you deep down screaming for him to stay. 
He hesitates before walking out. 
***
A day and a half later, you’ve been discharged from the hospital. From your perch on your couch, you watch ash swirling outside your window. The sight is terrifying, and the news is full of weathermen trying to make sense of the strange weather pattern. 
Knock, knock, knock, knock!
You hobble to your feet, clumsy as a baby deer due to your crutches, and open the door.
“Steve!” you say, a bit shocked (yet relieved). He’s got flakes of ash on his head and shoulders, looking like a dusting of snow. “Hey, I was going to call you. I think I made a big mistake—”
“I want to tell you everything,” he blurts out. 
You stumble a bit and he grabs your shoulders to steady you.
“Really?” you say. “Because I thought about it, and you don’t have to.” 
“I want to,” Steve says. “You’re right. I need to be fully honest. And, frankly, I can’t do this without you.”
So you let him in, and you sit on the couch with your injured leg propped on pillows while he tells you everything. About Will Byers going missing, and how he wasn’t just lost in the woods like everyone thought. About how he came back from another dimension but he brought something dark and twisted with him, an evil sort of presence. How that evil presence latched onto Max’s brother Billy last summer and used him as a general of sorts, collecting more soldiers to create a terrifying monster. How the mastermind behind the plan, Vecna/Henry Creel/One, is the real murderer.
“Everyone thinks it was Eddie,” Steve says, looking down at his feet. “But Eddie sacrificed himself so the bats wouldn’t swarm our version of Hawkins. If he hadn’t done that, the casualties would’ve been a lot worse.” 
“And Vecna tried to kill Max too?” you say. The first thing you’ve said since he started his tale. 
“He did kill Max. But she came back, somehow. It’s a miracle.”
You aren’t sure what to say. Monsters and alternate dimensions and evil doctors. It’s all the stuff of science fiction…right? 
Steve huffs out a laugh at the twisted frown on your face. 
“You don’t believe me,” he says.
“No! I do. I’m just…processing.”
“It’s all true,” Steve says. “Every word. And as much as it sucks, I have to help my friends stop Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all. Once we do that, maybe things can get back to normal.” 
“Sounds like a plan. When do we start?”
Steve’s brows pull together. 
“Uh, did you just say ‘we’?”
“I did. I want to help.”
“No way!” Steve scoffs. “I told you because I didn’t want to keep it from you anymore. Not because I want you to get involved in this fight.”
“Steve—”
“Y/N! Seriously!” Steve says. He laces your hands together. “You’re, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not going to let the person I love throw themselves into this mess. I need you to be safe.” 
He looks up and is a bit surprised to see goofy grin on your face. 
“You said you love me,” you whisper.
Steve blushes.
“Oh, right. I hope that’s okay?”
“You hope it’s okay that you love me?” 
“Uh, yeah. And I hope you’ll take me back, but if you feel like you can’t after everything I told you I understand and—”
You grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss. He melts into it, wrapping his arms around you. 
“I love you too,” you say, once you finally pull away. “And I am taking you back, and I’ll respect your wishes not to get involved in your monster hunting mission, but you have to promise me that you won’t get killed or something, because that would massively suck.” 
“You got it,” he says. He checks his watch.
“You heading out?” you ask, a bit disappointed.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nope. I have three hours until I’m meeting the others to discuss our next move.”
“Three hours,” you say, eyes sparkling a bit hungrily. “Huh. There’s so much we could do to fill that time…one activity I can’t get out of my head rhymes with ‘take-up schmex.’”
“Y/N. Your leg is broken.”
“The medical term is actually ‘smushed,’ so I’m cleared for sexual activity.” 
“Is that so?” Steve says. “Well, if your doctor says it’s okay…”
In one fluid motion, he scoops you up in his arms. You squeal in surprise as he carries you to your bedroom.
Hawkins had changed overnight. Everything Steve told you makes it seem like a much scarier, darker place. 
But you have Steve, and he has you, and you know that no matter what happens next, nothing is going to change that.
***
tagging some people who asked about it and/or expressed interest in this fic! Y'ALL ROCK @crappymixtape @starry-eyed-steve @mrskeery-mclaughlin @sailor-steve
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royallyprincesslilly · 11 months
Text
Title: Trick Or Treat {Headcannon}
Tumblr media
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Words: 1.6k
Warning: Fun & Games, Implied Smut
Note: Happy Halloween, guys!
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
~~~~~~~~~~~
Imagine it's Halloween and you and you are going to a Halloween party thrown with some friends that has been thrown by friends of friends. Sorta like a 6° of separation thing where you didn't know you ran in close circles to famous and semi famous people.
You've decided to go as Lewis Hamilton and have even committed so far as to wear a Mercedes race suit, the helmet you bought off eBay from a mega Lewis fan AND strategically position that very familiar bulge down to accurate girth 😏.
Your costume was supposed to be sort of a joke and your best friends were also going as other celebs either in F1 or sports.
You didn't think anything of it and even got tons of compliments for how accurate your costume was. You committed deep and had even gotten your hair braided like his but opted out of the faux facial hair. You thought that was too creepy.
"Girl, I feel like I should just sling you this ass cause you might just be as close to 44 as I will get," your friend Zoë said beginning a twerk.
Everyone busted out laughing while you did the ultimate fuckboi move. Rubbing your hands together like you saw a meal you bout to tear up you licked your lips in the most exaggerated way and nodded your head. Stevie J would be proud.
Once y'all get to the party it quickly becomes clear that you have existed in this 6° of separation world as plenty of semi famous people passed you by.
You and your friends make a vow to make tonight the best night and proceed to drink as much as you can on someone else's dim and see whose son you can go home with.
A few hours into the party you are pretty can't tipsy but not blackout drunk and have been entered into the best costume competition. When you get on the stage with the others, they go down the line asking what you are and to give your best impersonation of what you are dressed as.
It is a hilarious time as each one goes. You watch on as a girl dressed as Marylin Monroe steps forward kisses her hand and blows the kiss before full on lifting her dress in an effort to imitate the steam blowing up Marylin's dress moment. Applause fills the space.
You then watch a pretty dope looking Scorpion step forward and deliver the classic line, "Get over here" before unexpectedly throwing a ninja dagger across the room into the wall.
Your eyes bugged while everyone stood in silence probably trying to figure out just what had happened. When they did, they cheered loudly.
Next it was a girl dressed as Ariel or Ariel if she were in fact over 23 rather than a teenager. For a tail she had on sparkly fishnet stockings and underneath a purple sparkly thong. Her seashell bra was on point but also completely see through and every part of exposed flesh was decorated with pink or purple foil tinsel. You couldn't hate on it or her.
She stepped forward and let lose the Ariel vocal harmonics from when she gave the sea witch her voice. That you could hate on. Everyone coveted their ears and shook their head.
Then you watched someone dressed like Meg the Stallion from the WAP video and when she dropped down to the floor and tweaked on it you hyped her the hell up as did everyone in the club.
Finally, it was down to you and once you stepped forward there was laughter, but most was deafening cheers. With the helmet on it brought it all together and for a second everyone began whispering if you were really him.
When it came time to impersonate him you took the microphone and decided to play it safe. In prime and proper British accent, you spoke.
"You can knock me down, but I get up twice as strong. Yhu know what I mean. I don't aspire to be like other drivers. I aspire to be unique in my own way. I feel like people are expecting me to fail, yeh, therefore I except myself to win. Just like my tat on my back, still I rise."
No one spoke, moved or made a sound for several seconds. You began to think you had fucked it up but then everyone erupted with cheers.
It was a quick deliberation and after it, you were crowned winner. You couldn't believe you pulled it off especially with the shit you said which you clearly pulled out your ass. When you met your friends again you were 500.00 richer.
From then you partied like the end of the world was tomorrow. After a quick trip to the bathroom as you passed down the narrow corridor you felt someone push you against a wall.
"Trick or treat?"
"Uh, what?"
"Clever costume."
Biting your bottom lip, you looked up but thanks to the helmet you couldn't really make out who it was.
"Uh, thanks." You made a move to walk around them but found yourself rooted to the spot.
"I particularly like the um--package down there."
You snorted, your tipsy ass not reading the room one bit.
"Thanks. I mean we don't know if it is accurate or exaggerated by socks, but a girl can dream. Right?"
"So, you dream about it?"
"Be for real I am sure a lot of women have fantasized about peeling back that race suit and taking what's inside as their trophy on their own podium. If you know what I mean."
"Does that include you?"
You were not an idiot you knew who was in front of you was a man and as his scent permeated the air around you, you felt yourself growing bolder though you wondered which guy would get turned on hearing a woman talk like this about a celebrity crush.
"You know what? Sure. Given the chance I would absolutely have my way with him and vice versa."
The next thing you knew your helmet was pulled off bringing you face to face with the absolute last person you expected. Your brain stuttered as did your mouth leaving you speechless.
The man in front of you--Lewis Hamilton himself looked amused as hell.
"What if I said this is your chance?"
"Excuse me?"
He leaned in then, going to your ear. "I'm gonna head out in about an hour, if you decide to take your chance find the guy who looks like a giant teddy bear and tell him "treat."
You couldn't believe you ears, and you didn't trust your words.
He scoffed then spoke again. "I'll ask again. Trick or treat. You decide."
With that he walked off as quickly as he'd cornered you. Holy shit you thought trying to wrap your head around all that had just happened. You needed to sound off with your friends, but you didn't think this was something you should tell anyone. So, for the next hour you continued to enjoy the party.
Every inch of the club you went you felt eyes on you and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't find him again. What are the odds, you asked yourself. You were not opposed to one-night stands. Matter of fact you were absolutely pro one night stands especially with celebrity crushes. You only lived once, right.
By the time the hour was up you'd made your decision. Bidding your friends goodbye, you slid through the crowd looking for someone who looked like a giant teddy bear. The word was as the tip of your tongue. When you finally found him, you spoke them like a witch's incantation.
"Treat."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Note
Say, recall that alt butterfly we discussed, IE how the Peacock & Sentimonsters are too akin to Akuma so why not smoosh them together ETC.
So in that idea, Familiars were a thing the Butterfly could make in place of or alongside certain Akuma. That were connected to the Akumatized Item & fed off their makers emotions & energy passively for months until they "Manifest" IE become real creatures as Feast did. Familiars replaced as the source of the Akuma-Kids via Emilie not realizing forcing a Familiar to manifest right away takes a huge chunk of the givers vitality.
With that context re-established, what sort of Familiars do you think characters would get?
I ask as they tend to operate a bit like Akuma in that the Butterfly user can't just whip up whatever he wants, only at best influence the resulting creature. Hence why Fu's Familiar was driven solely by his starvation trauma & eats uncontrollably.
Gabriel's is basically a copy of Emilie's former Familiar, IE a big butterfly that exists to shield, evacuate & when all else fails defend the family with a piercing strike. (Hilariously this means it may not hurt Adrien, ever)
Nathalie's was basically her bending and stretching every rule and the resulting Familiar's creation nearly killing her as a result. IE forcing the Butterfly cosplay as the Creation Miraculous is a bad idea. So she's an outlier, but what do you think others might be?
Some ideas I have would be like:
Reflekta's Familiar is "Hype", that sort of lets her enhance and project herself and her powers over a greater radius in reflection of wanting to be heard and boosted up. It may look like Rose or be a sort of weird combo of camera, mirror & microphone.
Low key could actually see Lollipop Boy's being exactly the same XD
Andre's Familiar I could see being a spin on Mega Leech with Life Leech, basically it latches onto a target and drains them to empower him.
Jagged's Stone's could be a creative spin on Familiar Creation by essentially Akumatizing Fang alongside him. Could fit well with your, "Jagged Stone has magic" stuff to, as he can use aspects of Akumatization in ways others can't.
I keep trying to imagine Marinette's and basically just et a sword wielding hamster from Redwall XD
love the idea of a sword-wielding hamster lmao!
On one hand using that to warp Fang could be nice, but on the other hand I got the image of both 'Fang becomes Dragon because he's already a Familiar' and then Jagged gets another one on top and Fang has beef with it.
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sneakyswag · 3 months
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Working on a reploid oc whom I love very much. I offer you all some lore if you want 👉👈
Also this is kind of in an au so
This all makes probably zero sense whatsoever but I’m gonna try to put my thoughts into words.
His name is Beta. A robot created in the OVER-1 era. (I know the timeline is non existent apparently. I’ve changed a few things. Instead of rescuing all of these MMX, MMZ, MMBN characters, you rescue the classics instead with OVER-1 ofc).
Beta has incredible combat skills. Not on par with Zero’s or X’s, but incredible for his mental age. Beta was found in a capsule in the jungle. Found by X and Axl who were on a mission. (Perhaps the jungle aka opening stage in X8).
X and Axl, upon finding him, are wary of him. Keep in mind, Beta was supposed to wake up in late 20XX (I guess)
Ok ok. HUGE SIDE NOTE.
Beta was created with the blueprints of OVER-1. And hc that OVER-1 was based off of the blueprints for X. Beta was created by Forte, Rock and Roll with the help of Kalinka and Dr Lalinde (holy crossovers, I know 😭).
Beta was created without the knowledge of Dr Light, Wily or Cossack. They never knew of his existence. Rock had wiped his memories of creating Beta completely in fear of Dr Light finding out. Roll sealed the memories away. Bass didn’t. Bass kept the memories because at this point, it’s his son.
Beta was sealed away and Dr Lalinde or Kalinka never spoke of Beta again. Bass would check on him from time to time. Talk to the capsule with Treble by his side. He was proud of his creation. Although Rock, Roll, Lalinde and Kalinka helped, it felt like his. This was his son. Whom will help save the world.
Beta resembles Bass in a huge way. He has white hair (or light blonde I’d have to see), yellow eyes edit: they look better as light blue so, black face marks, same shape as Bass’, although he could always remove them or cover them up. His armor is black with yellow, blue and a hint of white I’d have to work on it. Beta is roughly 5’4 almost 5’5. His primary weapon is actually his hands.
See, his hands can generate an energy orb somehow and he can throw it at people. It’s dangerous, sure, but very powerful. Said orbs can be charged up but will leave Beta with little energy afterwards, making him vulnerable. His secondary weapon is a butterfly knife. He acquired it from the Maverick Hunters when X and Axl found him and took him in. It’s similar to saber technology except obviously, it does what a butterfly knife does.
Beta was supposed to wake up in late 20XX to help OVER-1 with anything that was happening. Sort of like what Protoman did. Watched from the sidelines and became support for Mega Man. Except, he wasn’t working for Wily or anything you know. But the capsule had sealed him for way longer WAY longer than he needed to.
Beta’s personality is nervous, anxious, kind, caring, intelligent, analytical. Beta isn’t all anxious, though. He knows when it’s okay to be scared and when it’s not, he tries his best to control it. He tries to analyze situations as best as he can. Thinking of many possible scenarios.
One thing. Just because he’s my original character doesn’t make him perfect. He has his flaws. My gosh, quite a few of them, actually.
Since he likes analyzing situations and practically every possible scenario, he’s slow. He’s slow in realizing something might be charging at him or trying to strike him. He lacks confidence. So much that he fails to strike his enemies when he finally gets confident enough to hit them. His design was also very outdated so he got modified with the X8 era armors.
Beta tends to panic easy. When he figured out that there has been multiple wars going on and seeing that he was in 21XX obviously scared the life out of him. What’s worse is that OVER-1 wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. It was his purpose. To help OVER-1, I mean. And now that he’s not there, it struck something in him.
X and Axl helped calm him down but man. This dude was a mess.
On a more positive note, aside from incredible combat skills and powers I suppose, he’s easy to talk to and get along with. He tries to see the good in everyone. Similar to how a child would. Because, well, mentally, he’s still developing. Yeah, he’s been in a capsule for years, but he needs to develop outside of it. Cuz the world isn’t perfect like the simulation in his capsule he did to make good choices. Beta has an interest in music. He likes any instrument and knows how to play, but he absolutely loves the piano. It’s his go to. It helps him relax.
Beta likes comics and cheesy romance movies. All he wants is to help people out. So what better way than to be a hunter? He’s not a pacifist per se but he’ll try to negotiate with the enemy first rather than just attacking. It’s what [who?] would’ve wanted.
The boy has many issues. Figuring out his past, who he is, all he has is a name. OVER-1. That’s it. It’s who he was supposed to help. But couldn’t. He was too late. He slept in the capsule for far too long. Beta has many dreams. He always sees four people. Three women and two men. They’re working on him. He can never see their faces clearly. He wakes up before he can. He’s frustrated. He manages to befriend Axl and realize that they have so much in common.
This is just a rough little thing. If you read it all ily <333
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cycas · 2 years
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elves again
Contrary to all evidence of the real world, I desperately want my fictional characters to have *some* common sense, be generally reasonable and understanding, and to become more reasonable, kind and generous from experience, rather than less.
I get that there are people who would like their elves to be mean argumentative and generally spend their mega-lifetimes causing one another increasing volumes of stress and misery because they find that funny, but for me, it feels like I can see that everywhere I go anyway. My fantasy is competent elves who want to get along, work together, love each other and choose the options that involve peace and fun, even if it's complicated and difficult and requires negotiation and compromise and practice, and goes horribly wrong sometimes.
Basically, if someone is seven thousand years old I think they should have grown up.
I would like to believe that even human beings, who demonstrably fail on the whole, to grow up in a 90-year period, might actually manage it if they had 9000 years to have at it.
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th3-0bjectivist · 10 months
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youtube
Dear listener, I tried listening to six full hours of mainstream radio this week again. I tried, oh, sweet merciful Jesus, I tried. Lo, I have at this point all but confirmed that modern radio is a steaming pool of liquid dogshit. Given a second appraisal, it’s dogshit with a candy-coated hardshell for ease of ingestion! The disheartening repetition, the complete lack of cutting-edge creativity and genuine emotion, ten to twenty ass-ramming commercials in a row only to come back to the feckless frenzy of fail that comprises the vast, vast majority of modern music? It was all terribly grating, and somehow the music was even worse. As soon as I couldn’t take a millisecond more of the doldrums of modern radio, I went to YouTube and listened to two straight and comparatively blissful hours of immortal work by Antonio Vivaldi. So, get into the time machine again with me dear listener, and set course for the early 1700’s, a time when radio didn't exist! The social standards might not have been top-notch, but the powdered wigs were undeniably gorgeous, and the quality of the music… to die for!!!
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As anyone who comes from a musical family has likely experienced, Vivaldi had the principles of composition fused to his DNA, and perhaps even down to the subatomic level with the help of his father. Having trained for priesthood in his early years, Vivaldi instead gradually gravitated toward a now celebrated career in music. Becoming an elite level violinist under the tutelage of his father Giovanni Battista, whom he regularly toured Venice and played duelling violins with, this legend of orchestra developed an immense capacity for transforming the basics of music into something so immensely interwoven and sublime that very few can or will ever dare so much as approach the legitimate majesty of his body of orchestral work. Known as something of an Italian religious dogmatist, his calling to the church and desire to be a priest secured him the nickname ‘Il Prete Rosso’ (The Red Priest) because he was a ginger, or in modern politically correct parlance… a natural red head. During a three-decade long gig serving as Master of Violin at an historical Vincentian orphanage, Ospedale della Pietà, Vivaldi managed to gather inspiration and organize his most emotionally powerful compositions. I could probably add a lot of unnecessary details here, but his greatest and most everlasting works are part of his ‘The Four Seasons’, a set of four violin concertos that are meant to express nearly the precise sensations and emotions of summer, winter, autumn, and spring. If you smash play on the above track you will be treated to Presto (from the Summer section), a song you probably know or have heard before. Presto means ‘quickly’ in Italian and is performed at one of the quickest speeds a human can possibly play music (second only to prestissimo speed, I think). Vivaldi also had a strange disease throughout all his life which many historians suspect might have been severe asthma. And with his penchant for taking numerous ‘leaves of absences’ to tour the world and develop an international reputation, this clearly mega-talented rockstar of yester-century ended up spending all the money he earned during his lifetime. Sadly, after approaching the end of his life and skidding through a decade’s worth of career decline, all accounts show that he died completely broke, having spent what little money he had left on multiple assistants that circumnavigated him through his now dire and at the time completely untreatable health issues. Vivaldi isn’t my personal favorite composer of all-time, I’ll leave that distinction to Bach (who himself was inspired by Vivaldi). But his works live on to this very day because he accomplished exactly what he strove to do; embody the excellence of execution in his craft to produce works that bring us together as human beings and sometimes inspire a rare spark of imagination to propel us to create the very best work we can possibly bring forth.
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Right above this paragraph is a live variation of The Four Seasons, a classic musical work of art and transcendent beauty that I cannot recommend highly enough. Vivaldi sure did one thing that modern, corporately funded, concentrated and even desperate bands just can’t… and that is actually innovate. He had immense natural technical skills, had them brought to bloom by his family and his own efforts, and he ended up creating over 500 instrumental and choral works, plus about 40 operas. Have *you* created 500 instrumental and choral works and 40 operas!? Didn’t think so. So, get to work on that! And join me next time for some jaunty Brahms. Image source: https://www.craiyon.com/image/dPwZA5VRRTawSH1T9Sslcw
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tenebraevesper · 1 month
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Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete, Night 23: The Talk Of The Town
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''Hello? Hello, hello? Hey Freddy, you're the talk of the town, ready to turn our world upside down? Each time you come around, oww… Hey Freddy, you're the reason why I never wanna ever turn off my light, I just don't want to die-ie… Hello, hello! Well I came to say hello, I want you to enjoy the show! Be aware that they could lose control! So, get out right away, as the lights go down! Got no theory and I got no doubt that when they're up, good luck, there's no way out! (No doubt– doubt– doubt) (There's no way out!)''
– Freddy by CG5, MatPat & Black Gryph0n (Five Nights at Freddy's 10th Anniversary Song)
xXxXxXx
If there was any doubt that the Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex might fail because of Freddy's dark history, the fact that it became literally overnight the most popular place to visit in the area destroyed all of those doubts. The people in Hurricane spoke of nothing but the Pizzaplex for the next few days, either marveling over the attractions or lamenting that they couldn't enjoy it properly due to the huge crowd that visited it. Rest assured, it appeared that Fazbear Entertainment finally made all the right decisions, as the place was not only very popular, but also didn't have any accidents. They were prepared for the grand opening to ensure the best experience possible and people wanted to visit it over and over again. It was a complete success.
Unfortunately, success didn't always mean positive things. There were people who loved the Pizzaplex and immediately posted their thoughts about it on social media, and there was the other side who either mocked them for loving a franchise that should've stayed dead back in the 90s, to the point of claiming that those who enjoyed going to the Pizzaplex were heartless for not taking into consideration what had happened in the past, bringing up the Missing Children Incident specifically. Lastly, there were those who enjoyed watching those arguments and morality wars, and decided to fan the flames to keep the arguments going and watch both sides destroy each other.
Sam decided to stay away from social media, as she didn't have the best experience with it, partially due to being cyberbullied, and partially because she already knew that the reaction to the Pizzaplex would be mixed and that people on the Internet would go to wars about their own opinions. Instead, she wanted to focus solely on her own mission of dealing with the things the rest of the public had no clue about.
Unfortunately for her, the popularity of the Pizzaplex meant also that she would be brought into the spotlight. Her whole school was talking about the Pizzaplex the first few days after the opening, combing through every detail carefully, only for a few people who knew about her to realize that she also worked at Freddy's and decided to hound her for information. It were mostly questions about her work or Freddy's in general, like how the animatronics worked or whether she could recommend any attraction at the Pizzaplex… and then, there were the stupid ones.
''Did the animatronics kill someone?''
''Not yet.''
''Is the pizza sauce made out of blood and guts?''
''I don't work in the kitchen, so how should I know?''
''Why is Roxy so hot?!''
''I… I don't want to even discuss this.''
Sam sighed, deciding to just walk away from the Roxy ''fan'', not even wanting to think about whether he was being serious or was just being stupid. She met up with Matt at the hallway, both hungry and happy that it was finally lunchtime.
''How are you doing?'' Matt asked.
''Well, I'm more popular than I've ever been only because I'm working at Freddy's,'' Sam said.
''I had noticed that you've being pretty much cornered by people who want to know more about the Pizzaplex,'' Matt pointed out. ''Do you need a buffer?''
''No, I'm fine,'' Sam replied. ''It's just the stupid questions that make me feel like people have no braincells.''
''They either think that they're really smart or that they're really funny by asking stupid questions,'' Matt said. Sam snorted.
''Yeah, you're right,'' she said, the two entering the cafeteria, getting some food and finding a desk they could sit at and continue the conversation. ''In any case, Will and I hadn't found anything related to Glitchtrap.''
''I guess that if he wants to cause any real trouble, he has enough time to do that. The Pizzaplex is going to stay for good, and one can only imagine what kind of mayhem would occur,'' Matt said. Sam nodded.
''Well, I suppose we should enjoy the peace we have,'' she said. ''At least we know that none of the animatronics are haunted.''
''Do you think something like that might happen again?'' Matt asked.
''I don't know. I wouldn't put it past them, given how Freddy's locations tend to always be haunted, and I asked Will about it. He thinks that, while it is possible, he cannot completely predict what Glitchtrap might do.'' Sam leaned back in her chair. ''In the end, all we can do is to wait and observe.''
Unknown to these two, they were observed by someone else from a table further back. Tessa still held a grudge against Sam due to what had happened during their last interaction, which was supposed to be a harmless prank where she covered Sam's locker in glitter, only for her and her friend group to get into trouble for vandalizing school properity. While Violet and the others didn't suffer any consequences besides the accusation, Tessa was forced to pay for the cleaning.
''Can you believe Blackburn has the audacity to act like she's better than us?'' Violet suddenly said, drawing the whole table's attention. ''The whole day, I've been hearing nothing but 'Samantha this… Samantha that'… Just because she works at Freddy's and the Pizzaplex, and also has access to the animatronics, she's now popular.''
''Well, it's kind of cool that she has access to those animatronics…'' Violet's boyfriend, Liam said, only to get startled by Violet's outburst.
''Yeah, and that's why we should've had access to them!'' Violet hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing. ''If Blackburn wasn't so selfish, we would be the ones people are talking about. We would have access to all the tickets, foot, attractions and animatronics. But, we don't, because Blackburn is being a selfish bitch about keeping all that stuff to herself.''
''You're right,'' Tessa said, just as frustrated as Violet. Violet gave her a curious look.
''You know, I think we should teach Blackburn a lesson about being selfish and arrogant,'' she said, sliding over a bottle of soda to Tessa. ''You'd be the best for this, especially since she clearly overreacted when you played that prank on her.''
Tessa looked at it, then glanced back at Sam and Matt, taking note of how Sam got up to get something from the vending machine in the corner. She looked back at Violet, who gave her a confident and encouraging smile, and then grabbed the bottle, getting up. After making sure there was none of the school staff around, she walked up to Sam as she walked back with a chocolate candy bar in her hand, looking startled when Tessa stepped right in front of her. Sam rolled her eyes when she realized Tessa wasn't going to let her walk past.
''What do you want, Theresa?'' Sam asked, with Tessa feeling a pang of pain, as if being pricked by a large needle, when Sam dropped her nickname. However, she quickly recovered from that.
''I'm simply here to tell you that you're getting too arrogant for your own good,'' Tessa replied, playing with the bottlecap as she screwed and unscrewed it. Sam narrowed her eyes, giving her a confused look.
''What are you even talking about?'' she asked.
''I'm talking about how selfish you're being,'' Tessa said, her firm and loud tone drawing the attention of a few students, who realized that an argument was going on. ''You really need someone to knock you down a peg.''
''Tessa, I really have no time for…'' Sam trailed off when she felt a liquid flow down her head, staining her shirt and leaving a sticky sensation. Sam's eyes grew wide as she realized what had just happened, and everyone around her went silent. Time dragged on, only for the silence to be broken by loud gasps and laughter. Sam lowered her head, her dark brown hair now sticky due to the soda, and she clenched her fists, feeling her hands shaking. She could feel a weight on her chest, growing more and more, with her surroundings slowly turning dark, with purple splotches appearing in her vision, resembling blood marks. She could sense a dark shadow looming over her, as if asking to guide her in this confrontation, and to hurt those who hurt her.
N-No… I can't…
Sam suddenly lifted her head up and gave a stunned Tessa a warm smile. ''I am aware that you've had a difficult time with your mental health, but I don't think you should take it out on other people.''
She then walked past Tessa and towards the entrance, ignoring the laughter and whispering. Matt, feeling alarmed, just grabbed his and Sam's backpacks and ran after her, noting how some students were looking quite aghast by what had happened, while others thought that this whole situation was just a prank or even staged. He glanced briefly towards the table Tessa had joined, noting Violet's smirk of satisfaction and her comforting a rattled Tessa, who didn't expect such a calm reaction from Sam.
He exited the cafeteria, finding Sam leaned against the wall next to the entrance, hugging herself, despite being completely drenched, and shaking.
''Sam, are you…?'' Matt was met with a dark sensation, one that was emitting from Sam. The teenager just stared into the air with a painful gaze etched in her eyes, trying to keep her breaths steady. She took one more deep breath, noticing Matt standing next to her and reaching for her backpack.
''Thanks… I was worried that someone would see me like this…'' Sam muttered in a dull tone, with Matt wondering what she meant by that. However, before either of them could do more, they were startled by one of their teachers.
''What happened to you?!''
Instead of answering, Sam remained silent, still feeling the weight on her chest, with Matt quickly taking over. ''Theresa Clover poured soda over her.''
''Well, then get yourself cleaned up. You can't just go to class looking like that,'' the teacher responded in a curt tone, with Matt narrowing his eyes, reminding himself that she wasn't the type of teacher to care about arguments between her students.
''Mrs. Lewis, Theresa was bullying Sam and…''
''I feel sick.''
Matt was about to protest when Sam interrupted him, and both Matt and Mrs. Lewis noted how she looked quite pale.
''If you're sick, you should go to the nurse's office,'' Mrs. Lewis said, with Sam suddenly placing her hand over her mouth, looking quite pale.
''I don't…'' To Mrs. Lewis surprise, she suddenly ran away, and when the teacher looked at Matt for answers.
''She really doesn't feel well. She actually wanted to ask for permission to go home,'' Matt said. While he knew that what he said was technically a lie, considering how Sam looked and behaved, it was obvious that she'd probably need a trip to the hospital rather than the nurse's office. Mrs. Lewis sighed, clearly not wanting to deal with this.
''I guess we can let her go for the day,'' she muttered, with Matt leaving quickly to find Sam. She was about to walk into the bathroom, only for two girls to exit it and give Sam a surprised look when they saw her, causing Sam to suddenly walk away from it and walk towards the entrance to the school.
''Sam, I told the teacher that you're sick and that you want to go home,'' Matt quickly informed her, with Sam giving him a weak smile.
''Thanks,'' she told him, wrapping her long and sticky hair into a ponytail and exiting the building.
Matt was left behind, feeling concerned for her. He was aware that, despite putting up a somewhat calm appearance, she was close to breaking down.
xXx
''Someone looks distraught,'' Springtrap said, approaching Freddy. The Showtime Animatronic looked a little troubled, taking a look around. Springtrap followed his gaze, understanding well what was troubling the bear animatronic. It seemed that Freddy also was aware that Springtrap knew what he was thinking.
''This restaurant feels sort of empty, doesn't it?'' Freddy said, voicing both of their thoughts. There weren't many patrons at the restaurant, meaning the animatronics had nothing to do. Bonnie and Foxy were trying to keep themselves entertained by playing skee-ball at the empty arcade, while Chica and Puppet were talking about something.
''Well, we did predict this situation, didn't we? The moment the Pizzaplex opens, people would obviously swarm towards it, leaving this place nearly empty,'' Springtrap responded.
''I really hope that your prediction of people returning once the novelty wears off will also come true,'' Freddy said, his eyes narrowing.
''I have enough experience as a businessman to know about this kind of situation,'' Springtrap assured him. ''As long as Freddy's has made repeat customers, there shouldn't be anything for you to worry about. After all, for restaurants, repeat customers have more value than people who just visit it on occassion, and I have noticed in the past weeks that Freddy's has a lot of repeat customers.''
''I guess you're right,'' Freddy said, trying to sound somewhat hopeful, but still feeling concern.
Springtrap, in contrast, felt optimistic, as he had already figured the system out from a business standpoint, knowing well that Fazbear Entertainment would want to take advantage of any of their locations, and with Pizzaplex being outside Hurricane and the fact that not everyone can so easily drive to it, people within the town will slowly start visiting Freddy's again.
Freddy's attention then turned to the entrance, and he was about to greet the visitor, only to be surprised to see Sam. ''Sam? What are you doing here? Don't you have school?''
Sam didn't say anything, her expression remaining rather blank, and she instead approached the equally surprised Springtrap, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him away, with Springtrap and Freddy exchanging confused looks. She dragged him into a room in the back, with Springtrap giving her a worried look when he saw her shaking.
He felt his heart breaking when he heard her whisper meekly, ''Will… hug…''
Springtrap immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, and Sam finally broke down in his arms, crying her heart out. She had been holding her tears back for far too long, maintaining a blank gaze as she didn't want anyone to see her like this, and she just wanted to be somewhere where she wouldn't be bothered by anyone.
As for Springtrap, he had no clue why Sam was here nor why she was crying. Instead, he made sure to keep her in his embrace and comfort her until she felt better. However, that didn't prevent him from feeling a sense of unease, which was quickly replaced by pure anger. His eyes narrowed as he made a silent vow that whoever made Sam cry, they would pay dearly for this.
xXx
Emma was pacing furiously in front of the couch on which Sam and Springtrap were sitting, with Springtrap rubbing Sam's back in comfort as she kept her head low, her eyes puffy and red from all the crying. It was late afternoon, with Emma having gotten a call from Springtrap using Sam's smartphone, informing her what had happened once Sam calmed down and told him the whole story.
After getting drenched in soda by Tessa, Sam tried to keep herself composed as much as possible, feeling hurt and frightened, and she called an Uber to get her home, where she cleaned herself up and then asked the driver to get her to Freddy's, where she finally felt like she could collapse and cry her heart out and tell Springtrap what had happened. Once she had calmed down, Springtrap left her with Freddy and the others to keep her company while he called Emma, who picked them up after work and drove them home. By the time, Sam felt a bit lighter, as well as embarrassed for crying so much over something so petty. After all, she wasn't a little child anymore and she felt like she was once again running away from her problems.
''I'm sorry…'' Sam muttered, drawing both Emma and Springtrap's attention. ''That was so stupid of me…''
''Sam, this is none of your fault,'' Emma told her, crouching down and holding her hands. ''Besides, this isn't the first time you've been dealing with Theresa or those people. I can only imagine the constant pressure they had put on you slowly building up until you couldn't handle it anymore.''
''Still…'' Sam trailed off when Springtrap put a hand on her shoulder, startling her.
''Emma is right, there is no reason for you to feel ashamed over what had happened. You handled the situation to the best of your ability, but clearly, you need more help,'' Springtrap said. Emma then stood up, frowning.
''I agree with Afton. I'll be going to your school tomorrow to talk to the administration about the bullying. I had called them before several times, but they always gloss over it, acting as if it's not a big deal, claiming that it was a misunderstanding, a prank or a provocation,'' Emma grumbled.
''I don't think they're going to listen to you,'' Sam said in a gloomy tone.
''They'll be singing a different tune if I threaten them with a lawyer,'' Emma said confidently, only to notice Springtrap's firm gaze.
''Even if you do that, I don't think you'll get far without any proper evidence,'' he pointed out. Emma was about to respond, only to realize that Springtrap was technically right. She felt rather frustrated, only for her attention to be drawn by Sam, who took out her smartphone.
''Matt sent me this…'' she muttered, showing the two a video on it. As it turned out, someone at the cafeteria decided to film the whole accident and post it on social media, with both Emma and Springtrap feeling more and more furious as they watched Tessa shout at Sam, who clearly hadn't done anything wrong, and pour a bottle of soda over her.
''She's lucky this didn't happen at Freddy's…'' Springtrap growled.
''Yeah, she is. Unfortuntely for her, I know where she lives,'' Emma said, holding out her hand. ''May I borrow your phone?''
''Sure.'' Sam nodded, giving her smartphone to her mother. ''You're going to Theresa's house, aren't you?''
''Exactly. I just hope that Jennifer has more sense than her daughter,'' Emma said, glancing at the two. ''I'll be back soon, you two. Afton, you keep an eye on Sam.''
''I wish I could come along, but knowing you, you'll tear her apart, and I'll just be in your way,'' Springtrap said, smirking. Emma rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything more as she left.
xXx
Jennifer Clover, Theresa's mother, opened the door completely confused when she saw Emma Blackburn standing on her front porch. The two women knew each other thanks to their daughters being close friends since they were young children, setting up playdates, visiting each other and talking while they kept an eye on their daughters. However, since they hadn't much in common, once their daughters were old enough to be left alone, they stopped talking, but remained on friendly terms. Emma hadn't really talked to her after Sam and Tessa had their fight, so she was curious whether Tessa told her mother anything.
''Hello, Jennifer. I'm sorry for intruding, but I need to talk to you about today's incident at school,'' Emma said. Jennifer rose an eyebrow, giving Emma a confused look.
''What are you talking about? What incident?'' she asked.
''Well, it's multiple incidents concerning Theresa…'' Emma said, taking out Sam's smartphone.
''Wait, are you talking about the argument Tessa and Samantha had? Tessa had told me that Samantha was incredibly rude towards her and was constantly trying getting her into trouble, like that glitter locker prank,'' Jennifer said. Emma gave her a surprised look, realizing that this was an incident Sam hadn't told her about, with Jennifer elaborating. ''Apparently, the two wanted to have some fun with glitter, but Sam got upset when Tessa covered her locker in it and told the school staff about it.'' Jennifer shook her head. ''Apparently, Samantha would make promises and then refuse to uphold them, like when they were supposed to go out together last week and Samantha ghosted her.''
''Jennifer… Sam and Theresa stopped being friends since last summer,'' Emma said in a serious tone, surprising Jennifer.
''What? But, Tessa told me they just had a bad argument and that Samantha was being difficult, but that they're still friends,'' Jennifer said in disbelief.
''I have a hard time believing that since Sam told Tessa that she never wants to interact with her again and has been avoiding her for months, mainly because Tessa and her new friend group had been trying to take advantage of Sam,'' Emma explained. Jennifer's jaw dropped, and she held up her hand.
''Wait… So, you want to tell me the two didn't have a sleepover two weeks ago, when Tessa returned home at 4 AM with bruises and claimed Sam pushed her?'' Jennifer asked.
''I can assure you that Sam spent the past two weeks either at school or at work. She'd have no time to even arrange a sleepover because she was too busy,'' Emma replied.
''Then, where was…'' Jennifer trailed off, frowning and turning around, screaming through the open door. ''Theresa, get here, right now!''
Emma flinched when she heard Jennifer screaming, realizing that Theresa may have been lying to her mother about other things than just her relationship with Sam. Theresa walked onto the porch, surprised to see Emma and shivering when she saw her own mother giving her a furious look.
''I've just been told about what had happened between you and Samantha, and how you're no longer friends. Do you want to explain to me why you're claiming that you are friends?'' Jennifer asked, trying to remain as calm as possible, but clearly sounding quite upset.
Theresa went silent for a moment, with Emma taking note of the teenager giving her a venomous look, only for it to quickly morph into an upset expression. ''Sam is just being difficult…''
''Really? Is this why you did this to her today?'' Emma asked, showing both Jennifer and Theresa the video on Sam's smartphone. She carefully observed their reactions, with Jennifer being genuinely aghast by what happened, while Theresa just smirked. Once the recording ended, Jennifer turned to her daughter.
''Why did you do that?'' she asked, giving Theresa a questioning look.
''I did it because Sam deserved it,'' Theresa responded in a defiant tone. ''People were constantly talking to her, all because she was working in that Pizzaplex. She was getting too popular for her own good, so someone needed to knock her down a peg.''
''She was getting too popular- What are you talking about?!'' Jennifer stared at her daughter in disbelief, looking at her as if Theresa had lost her mind.
Theresa seemed to be slowly sensing that her mother wasn't on her side, so she quickly added, ''She was also being really selfish…''
''Selfish how?'' Jennifer cut her off.
''Well, we all know she has special privileges and free access to the attractions, animatronics and other stuff, but she won't share any of them with me or Violet or the others; like getting us in for free…'' Theresa trailed off when she was confronted not only by Jennifer but also by Emma.
''You really have no idea how this works, do you?'' Emma said, only for Jennifer to interrupt her.
''Let me handle this,'' she said, turning back to Theresa. ''Why would you even think that she would grant you free access to attractions at the Pizzaplex? Had she promised you anything?''
''No, she didn't… But, we all expected her to do it. After all, she would always share with us the stuff she gets, like letting us play the new video games she gets or even borrow the consoles…'' Theresa said, only to get startled by Emma.
''You mean like the one Sam lent to you and you 'accidentally' broke it when she asked you to return it,'' she said, with Theresa suddenly going completely silent. Jennifer's gaze switched from Theresa to Emma at rapid speeds, with Theresa shrinking.
''Wait, you told me that it was a gift and that the console was already partially broken,'' Jennifer said, still baffled by what she was hearing.
''No, it wasn't a gift. However, Sam decided not to hold it against Theresa since she honestly believed that it was an accident. She was upset when Theresa came to her home and threw a fit, which I personally witnessed, that she couldn't lend her any games anymore,'' Emma said, with Theresa shooting her a glare.
''That's why I said that Sam is selfish,'' Theresa growled. ''She can get a new console and new games whenever she wants, since her dad works as a video game developer and…''
''Shut up!'' Jennifer shouted at her daughter, with Theresa giving her a fearful, wide-eyed look. ''I have enough of your lies and accusations! Samantha hasn't done anything, yet you're here bullying her, destroying her stuff and spreading lies about her! Not only that, but you lied to me about where you were the past few months!''
''I-I…'' Theresa suddenly started to cry, now realizing that she was in deep trouble. ''Violet told me to punish her-''
''And if Violet told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?!'' Jennifer shouted suddenly, with Theresa wincing, as if she was slapped in the face. Jennifer then turned to Emma. ''I am so, so sorry for what Theresa had done to Samantha, and I promise, I'll pay for any damages…''
''Look, I just want Theresa to leave Sam alone. You don't have to pay me anything, just make sure that Theresa doesn't approach Sam ever again,'' Emma replied.
''Don't worry, I will,'' Jennifer told her, then turned to Theresa, now livid. ''As for you, you are grounded! You'll go into your room and give me your laptop and phone, and rest assured, if I ever see you hanging out with Violet or anyone else from that group, I will make sure that you won't leave this house until you're old and grey!''
''B-But, you can't!'' Theresa protested.
''Oh, I can! You're living under my roof, and I certainly didn't raise you to act like this! You will also tell me and your father where you have been whenever you claimed to be with Samantha!'' Jennifer added furiously, with Theresa crying as she ran into the house. Jennifer then pinched the bridge of her nose, turning back to Emma.
''Once again, I apologize for everything Theresa had done. I never thought she'd be capable of something like that…'' Jennifer sighed.
''Don't worry. I have a teenager of my own, and keeping secrets is something that happens. However, in Sam's case, it was because she thought that she could handle stuff like this on her own,'' Emma said. ''Nevertheless, thank you for your help.''
''It's fine. I wish you and Samantha well,'' Jennifer said, closing the door. Emma then left, walking over to her car and feeling relief. She had hoped that this would mean that the bullying would stop, but despite that, she couldn't help but still worry.
After all, vindictive people have a hard time of giving up on their victim.
xXx
Emma entered her home, feeling exhausted. She had spotted Springtrap on the couch, watching TV. ''Hey, Afton, where is Sam?''
''She's sound asleep in her room,'' Springtrap told her, with Emma sitting down on the couch. ''She said that she was completely exhausted and that she wanted to go to sleep. I did check on her about five minutes ago, and she was still sleeping.''
''Honestly, I don't blame her for feeling like this,'' Emma said, leaning back and trying to relax.
''How did the conversation go?'' Springtrap asked her.
''As it turned out, Theresa had been lying to her parents about her still being friends with Sam, as well as using her as an excuse to, I assume, go out late at night,'' Emma told him. ''Fortunately, she got punished for all of that, so I hope she won't be bothering Sam anymore.'' She then paused. ''Has Sam told you about her locker getting vandalized with glitter?''
''No, she doesn't really tell me anything about her school life,'' Springtrap told her, feeling confused. Emma sighed.
''I should've figured. She probably thought it wasn't that important,'' Emma muttered, glancing once again at Sam's smartphone and the video on it. ''I really wish Sam wouldn't keep this kind of stuff to herself.''
She then started to scroll through the comments under the video. Some were thinking it was hilarious, believing it was staged or a prank, while others called it cruel, only to get silenced by others who told them that this is none of their business. Springtrap leaned over, reading the comments alongside Emma, then asked, ''Do you plan on going to the school administration?''
''Honestly, I don't think I will,'' Emma said, much to Springtrap's surprise. ''I know what I said, but considering my experience with that school and its staff, it won't be of any use. They'll probably act as if this was Sam's fault and punish her as well. After all, that wouldn't be the first time they either completely ignored the situation or punished the victim.''
''What happened?'' Springtrap asked curiously.
''Last year, the school had introduced a zero-tolerance policy because it came under scrutiny due to ignoring another girl being bullied until she got seriously injured and had to move away. Sam had told me that after this new rule was introduced, another boy, who was being bullied and fought back, was punished alongside his bullies because he broke the bully's nose. Keep in mind, the bully had been terrorizing the boy for months, and from what Sam told me, he never fought back until now, only to get punished for finally defending himself,'' Emma explained.
''I see… It's no wonder why you ultimately decided against it. I suppose that telling Theresa's parents was a smarter move, especially since they can deal with the situation more directly than the school staff,'' Springtrap replied.
''Right.'' Emma nodded. ''I sincerely hope that this will be enough for Sam to finally be left alone.''
''If it's not enough, I'll be more than happy to deal with them,'' Springtrap said, his silver-green eyes glowing slightly purple. Emma stared at him for a moment, then turned her attention back to the TV.
''As long as you just give them a good scare to force them to stay away, I don't care what you're planning to do,'' she said, with Springtrap giving her a stunned look.
''I didn't expect you to suddenly support me like this,'' Springtrap said.
''If there is one thing we can agree on, it's that Sam's safety takes top priority,'' Emma replied. Springtrap nodded in agreement, his ears twitching when he heard steps behind them. They turned around, only to see a disheveled Sam standing behind them.
''Sam, are you okay?'' Emma asked. Sam nodded, paused, then shook her head. She then walked around the couch and sat between them.
''What's wrong?'' Springtrap asked. Sam took a deep breath, looking up at both of them, fear clearly showing in her dark eyes.
''I… I think I saw Glitchtrap.''
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moonbreeze19 · 6 months
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we were too close to the stars i never knew somebody like you, somebody falling just as hard - reflections
alarin tumblr debut?? for tsme week?? i think so i think yes! u can consider this a late day 6 post or day 7 i suppose, whatever u prefer!
(in summary: my oc, rin, and alain, have lived in my head rent free for 3 years now. they mean the world to me. i love them. to me, they are THE it couple <3)
details/about them below the break
rin yukino is a hyper competitive trainer with a (shiny) mega gardevoir, goal focused and independent to the point of flaw. born and raised in kalos, but with family from sinnoh, she had spent much of her childhood fitting into her parent's mold for a perfect daughter. she was a straight-a student, principal violinist, preparing to attend a top university - at 18, she realized that wasn't who she wanted to be anymore. she became a pokemon trainer instead.
(somewhat unimportantly, her usual trainer design consists of teal highlights in her hair, orange earrings shaped like the heart that goes through a mega gardevoir's chest, and a lot of black and gray. she matches diva, her gardevoir, like alain matches his charizard. they're both extra like that.)
she meets alain viard when they're both 22, shortly after the events of TSME act 4. she's on the gym challenge, and he's... alain. they battle, and he wins. twice in a row. then they go from rivals to rivals with benefits, then maybe even friends if they weren't both so emotionally reclusive i mean haha what-
alarin, aka rin "i'm stronger on my own" yukino and alain "i only destroy those around me" viard
even if he's won both times, alain can't help but be attracted one of the few people who can keep up with him, who cares about winning nearly as much as he does, who treats pokemon battling like it's all she has. he knows the feeling. he thinks she might understand him.
she's half of the reason behind both his decision to fill out his team beyond charizard and his decision to challenge the gyms
when they fall apart, just a month before the team flare crisis, i like to think of them like a supernova. short lived but bright and brilliant. doomed from the start.
the details of their falling out are complicated, so we'd be here all day if i tried to explain.
rin fails to stand by him during the fight against lysandre. she doesn't have the courage to. but she does, however, find him in the aftermath. she helps him heal and pick up the broken pieces. that's where 99% of their relationship really comes from.
i filter them into the category titled "couples written by taylor swift's the great war" and if you know you know
because it's important to me, rin gets along great with mairin.
at first she's a bit annoyed by her over-enthusiasm. rin is cold, blunt, realistic, and introverted, mairin is the opposite of all of those things. but once she sees how much mairin means to alain she does a full 180
and mairin's only ever had older brothers (both in her biological family and in alain), so having rin around to show her how to do her hair, her makeup, AND annoy the hell out of alain when appropriate is her favorite thing ever.
they are very good at bullying alain into taking care of himself (because he is very bad at that, as we all know.)
eventually, rin will go on to become one of the kalos elite four, after malva gets arrested (for being Very Fucking Evil).
one of my favorite things ever to think about is how the random internet people would claim "rin is only with alain to try and get famous" (and also make lengthy twitter/x callout threads on how alain is a problematic person because of his team flare involvement, and therefore decently-well-known league challenger rin yukino is also problematic by proxy), only for alain to generally avoid the public spotlight (there are lots of headcanons here. in short, he goes to university) and rin to be hired as elite four. and then she becomes far more famous as a result. and then the internet trolls are like "...oh." and a majority of the general population doesn't even know she and alain are a thing, because it's only obvious if you scrolled intensely through her instagram account.
i don't know why alarin getting stupid hate threads on twitter/x is the funniest thing to me but it really, really is!!
the internet is convinced alarin is a manipulative ploy on rin's end and one day she reads one of the twitter threads making all these claims about what she's done and she just goes "bitch i did what" and finds it absolutely hilarious
ANYWAYS that is all for now!! this post is so long and this is barely scratching the surface?? they mean so much to me i'm so sorry 😭😭
if literally anybody ever wants to hear about them i will share more. i would cry happy tears.
thank you so much for reading this if you did!! i'm so glad i got to share them for tsme week!
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radiocity · 9 months
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Hi, where can I watch the show for free?
hi, so, it's on amazon prime (freeve?? whatever that means??) if you particularly care about quality, but here's some mega drive links i took off someone on twitter which I use to dl episodes to edit with lol:
seasons one, two, three, four, five, and six
now listen to me anon. i am speaking directly in your ear. if you are asking me for links maybe this is your first time watching this show and you got convinced by a sexy gif. THATS FINE. just know its incredible and horrible and i am sorry. but its also amazing,. season 1 is genuinely groundbreaking tv and season 4 is i think the season that this full force nightmare of a show shines best . around that... well i can't say but i admittedly love this thing. a true token of tv lesbians that might never be revisited again in the demise of long winding sitcoms and the age of the netflix era cancelled-after-one-season lesbian show. what the l word disappoints you with in content and quality it will not fail its role: Lesbian Tv Sitcom (technically its a drama but lol)
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cog5 · 6 months
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Room Service
Another month, another area of my mega-dungeon compiled. The Servant Halls are now part of The Electric Triptych of the Tetric Necromancer! 
Seeing the PDF page count hit triple digits last month was something else. The fact that it will reach 200+ pages in the next few months really puts things into perspective. This has been (and will be) a lot of work! Fortunately I’ve enjoyed the ride. Going back to the original drafts from 2023, spending time with the text and expanding on things to make connections, has really helped me to flesh out the layers in the adventure overall.
In this recent area, when I looked back on the draft, I was a bit worried that I’m not adding enough specific confrontation, that problems for the players were only implied, not overt. What’s to stop them from walking right past an encounter? That said, I’m often inclined to leave room for things that just “are”. Not everything needs to be a problem. Not everything needs to be encountered. Sometimes a space is just a space. Especially in something like a mega-dungeon, I think there’s room for that type of experience. 
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The Service Halls are a bit of a breather in that regard. The Servitors in this area of the mega-dungeon are not inherently “bad”. Neither are the Ganglios Creatures they use as livestock (though they will eat you, if you get too close). Random events could potentially throw up some roadblocks, but it’s also just as likely the players could spend their time here resting, getting to know some of the NPCs, and exploring the setting. Probably for the best, given the adjoining areas (the Dungeon and the Monastery) are designed to be more lethal. 
I keep coming back to the balance of these concepts over and over, that there is somehow more “value” in conflict. But is there?
There’s the dungeon building philosophy of having “empty” rooms. As a matter of pacing, I think this is good advice. If every room is a fight, players may find it difficult to press on. Of course “empty” rooms are not actually empty, they may have a minor event, a clue, foreshadowing, or some other means of establishing the setting. In some ways, the entire area of the Servant Halls serves this purpose. 
This area is likely to be mid-game for most players running through the mega-dungeon, so it feels like the right time to throw in a bit more detail about the “end boss”. A lot of this area is about letting players know what kind of person the Tetric Necromancer is. Namely: A failed wizard who relied on grotesque shortcuts to serve the kingdom, and the harm he is capable of causing in the pursuit of his ambitions. 
The Servant Halls also help to expand on the backstory of the Undead Queen, a major plot point in the setting’s history, available if the players care to dig into it. The Undead Queen is sealed away in the Monastery, adjacent to the Servant Halls. So, at the very least, I felt a bit of foreshadowing was in order. I’ve not officially written any hooks for this adventure, but finding the fate of the Undead Queen is likely to be one of them.
I could see the players given quite a few opportunities to gain allies or tag-alongs in the Servant Halls as well. I’ve set up what I think are two strong possibilities. 
1. Delos, a time traveller who is looking for their partner, trapped deeper within the dungeon. 
2. Molly, a Servitor who is no longer under The Spire’s control, who is capable of assembling a small army of fellow Seritors. Molly also has a connection to another area higher in the Spire (the Laboratory), where more Servitors await. 
In both cases, there is a reunion waiting to happen. I thought that might be a nice payoff, instead of the usual reward of treasure. Again, nothing overtly mentioned, but I’m happy for the GM and players to unpack these connections through play.  
And yeah, time travel! I’ve wanted to write a proper time travel adventure for a long time, but find the mechanics quite difficult to pull off in a way that doesn't get confusing. So I’m just dabbling here. If you read or play this portion of the adventure, let me know what you think. And if you have any time travel adventure recommendations, send them my way.
The addition of the Servant Halls also marks the first time in a while when all of the existing areas in the mega-dungeon are connected by contiguous paths. The Dungeon and Sewers were a bit of an island for a while (unless you count the secret Sewer fountain entrance in the Gate House). The Servant Halls make a direct connection to the Dungeon now, which connects to the Sewers. Once I get the Monastery and the North Keep added, that’ll be everything on the ground floor, available for play. Then we get to do the final climb up The Spire, to the top.
A mega-dungeon with a big ground floor? I dub it “the dungeon sprawl”.
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flowery-laser-blasts · 10 months
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Wat you think of Zorpox/Evil Ron they are powerful like rest villain of series.
Oh, that's a really good question!
In my opinion, Evil Ron is more powerful than some of the villains in the show; However, he's not more evil than all of them.
For example: to me, evil Ron is less evil than for example Gemini, DNAmy, and even Drakken.
We see in the episode 'Naked Genius' that Ron's doomsday machines do have the capability to do some damage. So amplify that with evil and he could really harm people, but that´s not what he intends to do, he first tries to scare people into doing his bidding and if that doesn´t work then he might turn to actual violence.
Compare this to Gemini who has allegedly killed a handful of his henchmen off-screen for the littlest reasons! That man is truly evil (but he's also very incompetent).
DNAmy who basically toys around with human lives for her own twisted obsession over Cuddlebuddies. She doesn't really care whether or not others are harmed as long as the results are there.
Dr. Drakken would definitely have been able to take over the world a long time ago if his ego wasn't in the way. He has some seriously dangerous inventions/outsourced projects... I mean he tried to erase all the oxygen from the world, TWICE. His problem isn't "I have too much goodness in me" it is "I have too much pride that I cannot cast aside". THE ONLY REASON THE SUPREME ONE FAILED IN KILLING OFF KIM WAS BECAUSE BUFFKKEN EGGED HER ON TO GLOAT AND RUB IT IN HER FACE > thus revealing the separation of team possible and unlocking Ron's ultra-instinct powers.
Ron is 'evil' but not necessarily 'evil'.
He's evil in the sense of 'This is what it takes to be a villain' but as a person himself, he's well, short-lived.
Towards the end of the episode 'Badboy' he proclaims:
"The inhalator has been set to go off in five minutes. When it does quakes are going to shake the world to pieces."
and then he later adds:
"--I’m just getting warmed up. The inhalator was to keep you busy while I worked on my real evil plan. My mega-weather-generator. All will fear me and tremble beneath my storms, and then hand over to me the world’s supply of Nacos. Booyea!"
He has the potential to do really bad things but he isn't evil in the sense of what the villains try to obtain: absolute power and world domination. Ron's wants in the episode 'Badboy' are just amplified:
- Getting revenge on Cousin Larry by bringing him humiliation (but not death).
- Getting the world's supply of Nacos.
If he went through with the last one, he'd be easily defeated because he'd eat himself into a fast food coma, he would get his stomach pumped at the hospital and Kim would switch his evilness with Drakken, dividing it again. Drakken would try and intimidate Kim and Ron but Kim will point out that she isn't sure if Drakken could handle combat with her since Shego's back at the lair (she would not go along to the hospital). Drakken would get nervous, not wanting to get beaten up and take his leave.
The reason Ron goes after/fights Kim is because she's in the way of his plans. Not necessarily because she is his archnemesis, 'cause she's not. But he knows how capable Kim is in stopping everyone and the man really wants his Nacos.
TL;DR: Evil Ron is evil but not necessarily dangerous world ending evil because that's not what he really wants. He literally took all of Drakken's 'Playground bully' evilness.
Anyway, this is my take on it, hope it makes sense.
Hope you like it! :)
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