#a lot of good things happened today but the bad was bad

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Thirty

Couple of things - I've been going through it lately and just wanted to get this bit out. I do have more planned but I need a break after this. The Carpenters song referenced is 'all you get from love is a love song' and if you don't know it you can give it a listen and then you'll get the 'broken arm' joke.

They squish together into the phone booth, Steve hitting the numbers almost on reflex now, going through the motions of briefly speaking to Robin’s mom.

He angles the receiver so that Eddie can hear too, their cheeks practically touching, “Steve! Chrissy’s here-”

“Why?” Eddie cuts her off immediately, “not time to close the shop,” he almost sounds a little critical when he says it, making Steve smile.

“I know I know,” Chrissy says, “but he came back!”

“So we waited for him to leave, and we followed him,” Robin adds enthusiastically.

If Steve couldn’t hear for himself that they’re both at Robin’s place, and they’re both absolutely fine, he’d be panicking now, maybe he kind of is, because he’s sort of snippy when he says, “Robin what the fuck, it’s not safe, you two aren’t- you’re not Cagney and Lacy for fucks sake.”

“Steve it’s fine,” Chrissy tells him, “he went to Starcourt, so we went home and called Hopper right away.”

“Good,” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, “okay, so what now?”

“We don’t know,” Robin admits, “we’re just waiting to hear now. See what happens?”

“Okay we could...Eddie, you want to kill some time in town, and we can call again later?”

“Yeah” Eddie pulls back his sleeve to check his princess watch, “...lunch. And shopping?”

“Sure thing baby.”

Chrissy squeaks down the phone, “oh you’re both just too cute together.”

“Oh my god don’t encourage them.”

“Oh!” Chissy starts, “I met El and all the rest of the kids, isn’t she just, so cool? She made some pens float around!”

“El is the fewest bad kid. She’s quiet,” Eddie agrees, but Steve is absolutely certain Eddie’s warmed to the kids a lot over the last couple of months, so he knows Eddie doesn’t really mean it like that.

“Least,” Steve corrects softly, “she’s the least bad. Probably.”

“Best of a bad bunch?” Robin hazards.

“Maybe,” Eddie tells her, “we can come home soon?”

“Errrr…I mean, see what Hopper says, I guess? We might know later, but you guys shouldn’t come back today anyway, it’s a few hours drive, and you’ll need to pack up and everything, right?”

Steve frowns, as Eddie, very briefly, looks sad, “maybe tomorrow,” he says to Eddie more than the girls, “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I...like the flower shop?”

“You miss it?”

“Yes, and Chrissy. Miss them. I know they’re not gone but...they’re not here.”

“Oh Eddie honey, I miss you too, okay? And when you get back you can come into work, there’s stuff to catch up on,” she whispers then, “Robin isn’t good with the flowers like you.”

“Hey! I’m trying my best here-” but she gives up, everyone else laughing over her.

The payphone starts to beep, “we’ll call later okay!”

Steve’s pretty sure Eddie’s jar will be empty again after today. He’s bought four more records, more Led Zeppelin, plus a Dio record because ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was playing when they walked in and Eddie really liked it. Steve absolutely certain that the girl with a green Mohawk wearing a Dio shirt sealed the deal, but he's not going to tease Eddie about it.

Eddie comes out of the changing room of the second hand clothes store, showing Steve the jeans he’s trying on. He’s been making do all this time with Steve’s draw string sweats and jeans with a very cinched in belt, so it’s definitely time for Eddie to choose his own things but...Steve wasn’t expecting Eddie to choose anything quite so tight.

“Stevie? What do you think?”

Steve swallows thickly before he answers, he swears Eddie’s only getting away with wearing them because his dicks on the inside, the thing would get strangled otherwise, “you look really good Eds. You like those ones?”

“Yes. Black, like my tail. And look,” Eddie scratches at the ripped fabric, his knees on display, “see my knees. I like to see them, they’re new.”

Steve bites his lips briefly to suppress the chuckle, “you should definitely be proud of those knees, you did grow them yourself.”

Steve frowns at the sight of Eddie in a leather jacket; it’s so very far removed from everything he’s been wearing. It’s so different from all of Steve’s clothes, but Steve can’t deny he’s making it work. It definitely suits the look Eddie’s starting to cultivate. He’s very much leaning towards darker colors, and he was really pleased when he turned up a Led Zeppelin tee shirt out of a pile.

The difference between the Eddie that comes out of the dressing room and the Eddie that went in is startling, Steve’s pullovers and polos all tend to be lighter colors, so all the black is very different.

“You like it?”

“I mean, as long as you like it, sure, you’re the one who has to wear it. But yeah, yeah I do like it. You look good.”

Steve has to stand by while Eddie rummages across a tray of cheap jewellery, “they’ll turn your fingers green,” he warns vaguely. Eddie shrugs, probably not understanding what Steve means as he tries things on, he likes the shiny silver ones that definitely are not silver, “you’re such a magpie.”

Eddie chooses two chunky rings that are so cheap he will get change from his last five dollars, but he clearly likes how they look on his fingers; he doesn’t even take them off to pay for them. Steve knows he’s just here to hold the bags, but he doesn’t mind. Eddie’s worked hard for this money, he should spend it on the things he wants.

Steve meanders through the store, it’s mostly second hand furniture and ‘antiques’, but Steve figures that term is being used very, very loosely. As near as Steve can tell it mostly looks like house clearances and that sort of thing. He spends a little while at the glass cabinets, staring at all the little figurines. 'Dust gatherers,' his dad calls them. There’s some tiny little jade ones, big tall porcelain ones and everything in between.

He’s distracted away from them by the sound of twanging. Bad, uneven twanging on an acoustic guitar. Steve follows the sound, finding Eddie just fiddling with the strings, the guitar still lying on it’s back. It doesn’t have a case, and looks pretty beat to hell to Steve, covered in stickers and all scratched up, but Eddie is entertained by the noises, and he looks up, smiling, “you going to buy it?”

Eddie shakes his head, “not enough left.”

“How much are you short?”

Eddie checks his pocket, and then the little label hanging from the neck, “six dollars?” he hazards.

“Okay, well, I’ve got four left on me, so maybe you can haggle the guy down.”

“I’ll try,” Eddie grins big, taking the change from Steve.

They’ve dropped everything off at the car and, with nothing left to do to kill any more time, they head back to the phone and smush into the booth together.

“He wasn’t there when Hopper got there,” Robin tells them, and Steve sighs, disappointed, “but! El looked into my head real quick, and she says he’s called Doctor Owens. She knew who he was, and she says he’s...nice.”

“Nice,” Steve repeats, deadpan, “a man who facilitated experiments on little kids. Nice.”

“Well...I mean maybe as nice as he could be given the circumstances. I got the impression he never...he wasn’t cruel about it. If you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Steve hazards, “Eddie?”

Next to him, Eddie’s kind of staring into space, frowning, “Owens. Yes. Remember that word, maybe?”

“Okay. Okay, so what are they doing now Robs?”

“Well, Hoppers keeping an eye out and he’s going to try the Motel right now, but if he’s not there he’s going to start doing drive bys of Starcourt and stuff, and hopefully he turns up,” Steve can hear in her voice that she's shrugging, “but Hopper says since no one else is asking any questions, he’s hopeful that it’s just this guy working alone, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Eddie listens to his new record while Steve makes dinner. He has his guitar over his lap, and occasionally plays a note or two. He understood the mechanics of it already, but Steve figures he must have seen someone with a guitar on TV at some point.

Steve’s absorbed in what he’s doing, and doesn’t notice at first that the twanging noises have stopped. The record ends, but it feels like it’s been a long time of quiet, and Steve looks over to find Eddie, expecting him to be flipping it.

He isn’t.

Steve turns off the stove, covering the two pots he’s been carefully nursing. Eddie isn’t in the cabin; Steve finds him on the dock. He’s just...standing there, in the near dark. Just...staring out across the lake.

“Eddie? You okay?”

Eddie looks around again, “heard something. Had to check it’s safe.”

“You could have said,” Steve comes up close, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turns in reflexively, looking for a quick, soft kiss, which Steve is happy to give.

“Think the trees look like The Upside Down.”

“Do you?” Steve looks around; all the trees have leaves on, they’re dense and alive and nothing like the dead twisted things that litter The Upside Down, “I don’t think they do.”

Wind moves through the trees, the susurration of leaves is kind of loud, “sounds like bats. Many many bats,” Eddie shifts closer, pressing himself against Steve.

“You okay?”

“I don’t...I think I don’t like it here.”

“Oh...well,” Steve makes a decision, “since they’re pretty sure it’s just the Owens guy, how about we go home tomorrow? I mean, you might not be able to go to work and stuff until they find him-”

“Yes. Home tomorrow.”

Steve looks around again, tries to see it through Eddie’s eyes. Tries to see what reminds him so much of The Upside Down. Maybe the panic attack in the shower knocked some stuff loose; Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s been making do with strip washing from the bathroom sink the last couple of nights, and that’s been fine but not ideal. Eddie’s hair needs a wash.

“Okay, we’ll call when we go through town, okay, let them know?”

“Yes...take my book back.”

“You finished it?”

“Almost.”

“Lets go inside, I can finish dinner and you can tell me what it’s about?”

“So they’re...stealing treasure from a dragon?” Eddie nods, his mouth full of dinner. “Okay, fair enough.”

Eddie swallows, “I want to read The Lord of The Rings.”

“Okay, I’m sure we can get it at the library.”

“You promise dragons aren’t real?”

“Yup. Definitely not real, and there’s no hobbits or wizards or- or elves or any of that stuff. And magic isn’t real- well. That kind of magic isn’t real, at least,” Eddie frowns like the book committed a crime.

“But...dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were definitely real, you have those in your book?”

“Yes...dragons can fly though. And breathe fire.”

“Well...some dinosaurs could fly, and they were big like a dragon, some of them.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I thought from my book like...cow sized?”

“Hu uh,” Eddie excitement is actually palpable, “definitely a dinosaur book next, some of them were like...as tall as trees,” Steve doesn’t actually know, he was most definitely not a dinosaur kid, but he’s pretty sure at least some of them were tall like that.

“All the time, used to do this. When I had a tail,” Eddie’s voice is muffled where he’s bent over the kitchen sink.

“Yeah...I guess I did,” and it’s true, Steve was washing Eddie’s hair pretty much every other day when Eddie still had a tail. He feels the back of Eddie’s head almost reflexively at the memory, following the ghostly, barely there ridges with his fingers through the suds, “it’s getting so long again already.”

“Good. El said Max makes nice braids when it’s long enough.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “oh yeah? That’s going to look great, now eyes and mouth closed, I’m gonna’ rinse.”

Eddie has his head resting on Steve’s tummy while Steve plays with his hair, hand buried in his curls, massaging his scalp, “what you doing baby?”

“Hear.”

“Hear? Oh what, you’re listening?”

“Listening to Stevie’s inside.”

“Anything interesting?”

Eddie nods, his cheek dragging against Steve’s skin, “funny tummy noises. And bumping.”

“Bumping? Oh, beating, my heart right?”

“Yeah. Stevie, we can definitely go home tomorrow?”

“Sure thing babe, we can get packed up in the morning,” Steve yawns, “you want to go to sleep?”

“Maybe. There’s bad dreams here.”

Steve blinks his eyes open to look down, a weird shiver raising goosebumps on his arms, all the way down to where his hand is still buried in Eddie’s hair. Eddie didn’t have to put that quite so creepily. “I think it’s just...maybe it reminds you of things here, so your mind is kind playing tricks on you a little? There’s nothing bad here baby, I promise. What do you think?”

“The water reminds me of Barb.”

Steve frowns, “Barb? How do you know about Barb?” Under Steve’s hand, something crawls unpleasantly beneath Eddie’s skin.

Eddie shrugs, “Nancy told me you killed her.”

“Stevie!” Steve fights, briefly, confused. “Stevie love, it’s okay. Bad dream.”

Steve’s kind of sweaty and panting, but he quickly realizes that it’s Eddie whose holding him, so he quits moving, “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down, “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“You want to tell me? Here, water.” Steve takes the glass, sipping it carefully. He can feel the cool water go down, grounding him.

Steve has no desire whatsoever to talk about it, so he deflects, “what time is it?”

“Five?” Eddie leans over, checking his watch before putting it back, “half five.”

“I miss you saying five and a half, it was cute.”

“I can say five and a half,” Eddie takes the glass again before snuggling in.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Already awake...bad dreams.”

“Fucking hell. We need to go home just so we can get a good nights sleep. What did you dream about?”

“You. Lost you, in the trees...we were here but...Upside Down trees? I tried and tried to find you. Could hear you, ‘help help,’ really scared.”

“Maybe it is this place,” Steve settles down again, pulling Eddie close, “weird that we’re both having bad dreams right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“No but...lets just rest a little, and then breakfast and we can get packed up, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie love.”

Eddie waits outside the phone booth, leaning against the car where it sits parked by the curb. Steve calls Family Video today, knowing that Robs should be at work, “hey Bird-”

“He got him! Hopper! He got the Owens guy!”

Steve feels himself relax, one less thing to worry about, “good. Good, we’re coming home.”

“Okay, Hopper does think it was just this guy. He was staying at the Motel, Hop had to wait around a bit, like proper stake out!! But he did get him. Said he couldn’t find any evidence of him like, working with other people, and El’s going to talk to him or something. Make sure. I’m not sure about that bit but-”

“Okay, okay, so where is he?”

“Hopper’s got him at the Motel. Probably like, tied up, do you think? Steve what if he’s like, working for the government though. Or or the Russians-”

Steve rubs his forehead, “Birdie, I know you do love some empty speculation-”

“I do!”

“But how about we wait until we actually like, know?”

“Spoil sport.”

They say goodbye and end the call, Steve offering the keys to Eddie, “want to do a little of the driving?”

Eddie grins big, clearly surprised and pleased by the offer, “yes I do!”

“Okay, careful though, you don’t know the roads like at home. And no getting distracted by the cows.”

Eddie ‘moos’ really loudly in response, once in the drivers seat, he pauses for a second, “should have bought tapes,” he laments.

“Well, unlucky, I’m thinking some Carpenters.”

“Nooooo,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up, I know you love it. Now sing to me about how the best love songs are written with a broken arm.”

“I think that’s what she said! Broken heart makes no sense,” Eddie grumbles, Steve still laughing.

Eddie had caved after two hours of driving, but still, considering all Eddie had done before today is short journeys around Hawkins, Steve figures he did really well in an unfamiliar place, and he told Eddie so. Eddie has turned into a surprisingly careful driver, Steve doesn’t know if it’s his consideration for Steve’s beloved car, or if it’s Steve’s constant reminders that Eddie cannot afford to draw any attention to himself. Either way, Steve feels safe in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I think I should take you home to unpack, then I can figure out how to call Hop and see if I can go over.”

Steve’s not even surprised by Eddie’s response, “both go, you mean.”

“Eddie...I’m not sure it’s-”

“Stevie,” Eddie manages to make it a complete sentence.

“Look...I’m not going to take your choice away, okay, if you want to come, then that’s fine. But...you get I just want you to be safe, right? And I feel like the less this guy knows, the better?”

“I know...I know,” Eddie has his thinking face on, when he’s wrestling with how to say something. It’s been happening a lot less lately, but this concept must be more complicated. “The people had me in a tank. They...hurt me. I was scared. Now...Owens is in the tank? He has to...he has to say why. To me. And sorry.”

“I...is that what you want? For him to apologize? To...explain?”

“Apologize and explain. Yes. And...I will not hurt him. I’m Eddie. I’m not people.”

Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really. He feels like he knows Eddie inside and out, but his natural compassion, his...kind of innate goodness still blind sides Steve sometimes. Steve had vaguely considered that a realistic outcome of this may be that he’s helping Hopper hide a body. Maybe. It was kind of an abstract thought he hadn’t wanted to poke too hard but, realistically, they’re talking about a man who experimented on children, on Eddie.

Steve is clearly no where near as forgiving.

Hopper meets them both outside the room. Steve has no idea what to expect, really. The rasp of Hopper stubble is loud when he scrubs at his face, “El thinks this Owens guy is legit. He already knows Eddie has,” Hopper gestures vaguely, “human parts.”

“How?”

“After Starcourt happened, he went back to poke about, and he saw you both. More importantly Eddie, driving a car,” Hopper’s words are full of accusation, like ‘see I knew him driving would be trouble.’

Eddie waves a hand dismissively, “I can go in?”

Hopper sighs, but Steve isn’t going to fight Eddie on this. He knows what he wants, and he’s so fucking smart. Steve’s sure Eddie doesn’t fully appreciate the risks, not since he doesn’t get fully grasp how stuff like actual governments work but...yeah. It’s Eddie’s life, but Steve still takes his hand. If they’re doing it, they’re doing it together.

Hopper just sighs and rolls his eyes.

Steve figured that, somehow, this guy would just...look evil. He doesn’t. He looks like a harmless old dude, sitting on the edge of a sagging motel mattress, looking over some papers. He cannot disguise his interest when Eddie walks in.

He’s not restrained or anything, he’s just...there. There are books and pens and folders and shit spread out on the opposite bed, like he’s been working.

“Owens?” Eddie checks.

“Yes. Yes hello it is...so wonderful to see you again. And to hear you speak! How good is your understanding-”

“I think we have questions, first,” Steve cuts him off sharply. He doesn’t seem threatening, just...genuinely pleased to see Eddie. The guy has to be up to something, Steve can’t shake the suspicious thought that the guy must be one hell of an actor.

“Yes. Of course. I have everything, all of my notes, from Starcourt, so any questions you have I will do my best to answer.”

“Okay, where the fuck do you get off experimenting on people?” Steve’s pretty sure his voice is reasonably calm. He’s vaguely aware of Hopper coming in behind them, pulling up a folding chair he must have gotten from his truck.

Owens closes his eyes briefly, before addressing Eddie,“yes. Of course. I am so so sorry for what you were put through but..the work we were doing. I was not fully aware of just how intelligent you were. Are. I didn’t at first fully comprehend that we were even dealing with a sentient specimen-”

“He’s not a specimen, he’s a person,” Steve snaps.

“I am very smart,” Eddie adds helpfully.

“Yes. Yes you are. And the transformation you have undergone is nothing short of miraculous, if I could take some bloods-”

“Absolutely the fuck not. What were you doing with the Russians?”

“Oh,” Owens seems genuinely confused by the question, like it hadn’t really occurred to him, “when the original labs were closed, the funding ended. Of course we were aware of the mirror dimension-”

Eddie looks at Steve, “he means The Upside Down.”

“-Oh, is that what you call it? Well, it was deemed for too dangerous, and not worth the expense, to continue, not after such a catastrophic failure. The Russians however didn’t seem to have any such issues and were interested in opening a gate; I had to go where I could to continue my work, you understand. And then they brought you back with them. What should I call you?”

“Eddie. I’m Eddie.”

“And you’re working? And you’ve learned to speak and drive a car...your ability to process new information is staggering. The physical changes, did they just happen? What was the-”

“Stop, just stop. What do you want with him? Why have you been asking around?”

“Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, pulling Steve back a little by his shirt. And yeah, okay, Steve may have taken a step forward.

“I just...want to continue my studies. Eddie’s change...the differences in his make up, his body’s ability to rewrite itself – it could lead to...well, significant discoveries. The data I could gather, imagine the effect on modern medicine, what we might achieve – the potential to help people could be immeasurable.”

“We could...help people?” Eddie echoes.

“Yes, well. We could try. Like I said I would have to do some tests to understand-”

“No,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.

Next to him, Eddie asks quietly, “what tests?”

“Just...take some blood, for now. Just try to understand how this happened and...what the changes mean on a genetic level.”

“Look, Eddie, you do not have to do a single thing for this guy, okay? This could be dangerous, they could come and take you away again-”

“I would most certainly like to avoid just that,” Owens interjects.

“Oh yeah, right. Sell me on that then,” Steve snaps at him.

“Look,” Owens spreads his hands, he hasn’t moved from his seat on the bed, “I’m the only one who knows about this. The little contact I’ve had with my previous...employers implies that they’re done with the site, they’ve scrubbed the remains of Starcourt, it’s already being filled in. I only know you even exist because I just happened to see you. No one knows Eddie is alive right now, that he didn’t die in his tank, except for me. If I tell anyone they will take him, potentially back to Russia, and I’ll loose access to him. If I inform the American team, I’ll have to admit that I was working for the Russians, which would cause some obvious fall out for me. This way I can just…continue with my work.”

Steve rubs his eyes. It sounds...legit. He guesses. Logical. “Hopper?”

“El says he’s on the level.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve huffs, walking in a circle.

“Stevie? I want to help people.”

“I know you do baby.”

“Oh, are you two in a relationship-”

Steve finds himself leaning over to point in Owens face, “do not.”

“Okay, okay,” Owens spreads his hands, “look, I think you need to see this from the other side too. What if Eddie gets sick? What are you going to do, take him to the doctor? And what about El, and her powers? What if something comes up with her? I’m more than happy to-”

“I’m sure you are,�� Steve stops him, “and you agree with that Hop?”

“I mean, he’s got a point. Don’t think we could take Eddie to a regular doctor, and El was fine with letting him look her over. I mean I maybe don’t agree with the shit he’s been involved in but...I don’t currently have a lot of choice with getting my kids brain powers looked at.”

“I don’t like it.”

Hopper shrugs, “nope.”

“This is such a bad plan.”

“Not as bad as-”

“Don’t you dare-” Steve starts.

“Letting some fish guy-”

“Hopper!” Eddie adds, affronted.

“Bite your toes off.”

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - pt 2

The room is vibrating with quiet conversations and the anticipation only a good game can bring.

Below, Hinata’s warming up. He knows exactly where you’re sitting and he waves excitedly before moving on in the line-up.

“Hey, you’re here already.” Kuroo smiles when he squeezes through, pulling you into a hug.

Behind him, Kenma comes shuffling in. You move to hug him, like you always do when you’re meeting in a group, though you barely touch this time. It’s a fake-out more than anything else.

“Have you been here long?”

“Hinata needed a ride,” you shrug your shoulders. “I had the car this weekend, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Kuroo whistles a mismatched tune. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

“Oh, for sure,” you smile up at him. “Like how can they not?”

You know you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Volleyball. Most games one of the boys ends up explaining a play to you, but no one ever seemed to mind.

Today, though, you mind.

You know Kenma hasn’t told Hinata about that night, because Hinata’s the worlds worst liar. You’d be able to tell if he knew.

Kuroo, however, is an amazing liar. If he knows, and you suspect he does, he isn’t letting it slip.

His kindness feels forced to you now. Is he pitying you? 

“Did you get that?” He asks half an hour later when the referee waves his hands in a way you haven’t seen before.

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“You don’t have to explain it,” you say instead, the words a little more biting than they should be. “It’s fine.”

Kuroo startles and behind him, you can see the concern in Kenma’s face. 

You can’t stand it anymore, being this close to him, and get up.

“I need to use the toilet,” you rush out. “Lady problems.”

The line is short. 

But you sit on the cold toilet seat for fifteen minutes, scrolling through Tiktok until your heartbeat settles and you feel ready to go back out again.

You’ll have to apologize to Kuroo in some way if you want to save this friendship.

Though is there a way to save it? Should you, even? 

-

“Did you see my spike?” Hinata asks later, hair damp from the game, towel slung around his neck. “Did you?”

You’re not sure which one he means, but you nod and you fawn over him like you usually do. 

But then he’s gone, gone for a quick shower, and you’re left to wait around.

“You good?” Kuroo asks and you can feel your spine stiffen, from the top all the way down to the bottom.

“Yes,” you tell him, though your eyes stay on the floor. A quick check, Kenma’s shoes are nowhere to be seen. At least he’s not here to witness this. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

Kuroo quiets. He’s usually someone who moves a lot, squiggles his foot, or taps his thigh, but he’s motionless right now, at least the lower part of him that you can see. Nothing is going to make you lift your eyes up. You don’t want to see his face.

“Did something happen last week?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure? Kenma said you watched the movie and went out for dinner after like we usually do. He said you didn’t talk much, that it was quiet, but if it’s something about Kenma-”

“Why does it have to be about Kenma?” You lift your eyes now, want to see his face. He looks concerned. Too soft. 

He reminds you of yourself. How did Kenma call it? Bothering people. 

“Maybe it was something at work. Or it’s because I’m on my period. Or I’m just having a bad day. Maybe some creep tried to hit on me and I’m weirded out by that. Why do you automatically assume that it’s about Kenma?”

Kuroo’s quiet for a moment. “You usually react differently to Kenma being around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “Things change.”

He looks pained but he doesn’t pry anymore. You can’t help but think that he’ll ask Kenma about it later. That Kenma will tell him the truth, eventually, because they’ve been friends longer than anyone you know. 

You force yourself to smile. This might be the last time you see Kuroo in a while.

“I’m just being weird,” you promise him. “A girl has to be weird sometimes.”

“Okay,” he nods and you stay there, silent, until Hinata comes back.

- - -

“Hey.”

You look up from your desk. Kuroo’s standing in the doorway, shirt pushed up to the elbows, his hair defying gravity as usual. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. 

Work has kept you busy. You’ve got other friends too, though Hinata has been pretty good at calling you up.

“Hey,” you hesitate for a second. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I was in the area and remembered you work here. Do you wanna get lunch together?”

You hesitate. 

“Just checking in on you,” Kuroo promises. “Don’t be a stranger?”

You sigh. “Fine.” 

-

“Kenma hasn’t told me anything, by the way,” Kuroo tells you as he separates his chopsticks. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why would I be worried about that?”

He chuckles. “You’re pretty good at deflecting, has anyone told you that before?”

“And you’re a mother-hen, has anyone told you that before?”

“Yeah,” he stuffs an egg roll into his mouth and nods. 

“How do you deal with that?” You ask, pushing the rice around your bowl for a moment before taking a bite. 

Kuroo shrugs. “I like being this way. If I step on somebody’s toes, I apologize of course, and try to stay clear of that, but in the end… it’s who I want to be, so why change?”

You consider that, but it’s not that easy. 

Nothing really ever is when there are feelings involved.

“We’re having a movie night next weekend,” Kuroo adds gently when your bowl is almost empty. “I’m formally inviting you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. I like having you around. We,” he corrects himself with a grin. “Like having you around.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bokuto, of course, and where’s Bokuto there’s Akaashi. Atsumu invited himself and he’s bringing Osamu, so there’s food involved. I think Hinata managed to rope Sakusa in, but that’s always a little debatable.” He stops. “I just realized they’re all just guys, so I’m counting on you to invite a few girls.”

“Are you using me to find your friends some girlfriends?”

“Why, is it working?”

- - -

It’s no surprise that Kenma’s not showing up to movie night. He’s not a big fan of crowds, you know, and there’s always a crowd when Atsumu is concerned.

It’s a good thing you end up going because you end up setting Emi up with Osamu - completely on accident - and as Hinata figures out he’s allergic to some weird European drink you’re the only one with antihistamine pills in your possession.

-

“Do you always come this prepared?” Sakusa asks, hiding out in the kitchen where it’s calmest. 

“I guess,” you reply, preparing yourself for another sting.

“I like that,” Sakusa hums. “Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Sure,” you pull it out of your purse. “Scented or unscented?”

“Unscented please.” He offers his palm and thanks you quietly when you squeeze out the liquid. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi,” he adds after a moment of silence. “Just don’t tell Miya.”

You smile. “This is what being knighted must feel like.”

Kiyoomi taps your forehead. “Don’t get too cocky or I’ll revoke your rights.”

-

“Are you coming to the cinema this weekend?” Hinata asks after a game, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. “It’s that one movie you said you wanted to watch.”

“Sure,” you tell him, ushering him forward, waving at Kiyoomi whose car’s a little further down in the parking lot. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” Hinata yawns. “Can you drive? Key is in my-”

“Wallet, I know.” You pull it out of the bag he’s carrying. “If you invited everyone, surely you wouldn’t miss me.”

Hinata furrows his brows. “That’s not true.”

It’s sweet, but you wonder about it sometimes still. 

It’s the age-old question, isn’t it? Do you like me because you need me or do you need me because you like me?

You think you’ve grown, in these last few months. 

You like the way you are. Not the smartest and not the dumbest. Over-prepared and over-caring. 

But you’ve also recognized that you’re a friend and not a mother.

That you want a partner, not a child. 

“I’m good,” you tell Hinata when you reach his apartment complex. “But thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

Join my Taglist: @notsochillnerd @fuzztacular @callingmyself

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[mvrkieboo]

Lord, just saw that ask on what if YN is bitter. And ykw? WHAT IF THEN THERES A LOT OF REGRETS LIKE COME ONNNNNN 😫 I really wanna good ending but damnnnnnnnn that scenario on YN being bitter? UGH LURVE THE ANGSTY 🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️

pt. 2 of this ask right here

You've been missing your classes. For 6 days, exactly.

For the first three days, Prof. Suh nagged Xiaojun endlessly for an explanation for your absence, but at one point, all of your lecturers stopped bothering him about it. Xiaojun began to wonder if the lecturers could finally tell that he was simply not your friend anymore—until Prof. Suh suddenly held him back again today. As always, Yangyang and Aeri tagged along.

The lecturer pulled out a fruit basket, patting on it as he gave the three college students—for some reason—a sympathetic look, it even came across as apologetic too. Was the fruit basket an apology for something?

"Listen, I wanted to visit Y/N today, but some bullshit last minute meeting got scheduled—so can you guys pass this on to her for me? Tell her I'm sorry for the messages I sent too—I didn't know at the time. Thanks, guys."

The three looked among themselves, weirded out. Why would Prof. Suh buy you a fruit basket? When Aeri opened her mouth to ask for further explanation, that's when the professor's phone rang—and he took the call immediately.

When he saw that three students were still hanging around his desk stupidly, he pointed at the fruit basket then to the lecture hall's doors—telling them to get out.

Yangyang took the fruit basket and walked out the hall, wondering why the fuck would Prof. Suh bring a fruit basket for you?

There was a folded card stuck to the basket, and they were too curious to leave it alone. Flipping the note to read the contents, it was Prof. Suh's writing, but they realised that this fruit basket was on the behalf of all of the lecturers of the faculty.

May we see you again on brighter days, Y/N.

– On behalf of all the staff of NCU's Business & Management Faculty

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ever since celebrating Jaehyun signing on to SM Entertainment as a singer together, Mark's friend group and your—well, your old friend group hung out a lot at the place where they held the party, which was at Soyeon's café in Sinchon. Geonwoo's mom liked having them come over too, so they often had a fun time together at the café.

"What's with the fancy fruit basket?" Mark got to beat Haechan to it, since everybody was curious about the fruit basket Yangyang was carrying.

"Well, we're actually hoping that you would know, Mark—has Jaehyun mentioned anything about Y/N recently? Did something happen to her?" Xiaojun smiled hesitantly at Mark, and Yangyang places

Mark leaned away from the table, confused as to why Xiaojun would ask that, especially since your name would sometimes be a taboo topic to approach. Yangyang pointed at the card and Mark opened it to read it, now eyebrows all furrowed.

"May we see you again on brighter days? That sounds pretty serious." Haechan read the writing out loud from over Mark's shoulder.

"Listen, this fruit basket is gonna go bad if we don't immediately send it to her, and the staff's money would go to waste that way. How about this—you pass on Y/N's new address to me, I'll drop it off, and then this whole thing can be settled instantly." Yangyang spoke with a jaded tone, leaning back into his seat.

"I don't know her exact address, but I do know what apartment she moved into." Mark offered, and Yangyang nodded gladly.

"Oh, Mark, that would in fact be better. I could just drop it off at the front desk and tell the person to pass it on to her."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the end, Mark offered to accompany Yangyang for the drop off, mainly because everyone could see Yangyang was ticked off that he had to do this, and if he ran into you, Mark being there was to mediate the situation.

One look at the apartment complex and they realised how much of a downgrade it is from your old place. Granted, anything else could be considered a downgrade compared to the luxury condo you used to live in, but your current apartment looked almost run down and shady.

Mark couldn't help but still feel a little bit bitter and envious that you were willing to move into this kind of place if it meant you could live with Junyoung. Did you really love him this much to endure living in a place like this? Mark was a broke college student too, but even he wouldn't settle to live in an apartment like this.

But, in your defense, it only looked run down because the apartment was old, dated, and looked like maintenance is done once a year only. It still had a lobby with a front desk at least, manned by a relatively old dude who looked well into his 60's.

"Excuse me, but could you please pass this on to one of your tenants? We don't know her exact unit, but it might be under the name Jeong Y/N or Lee Junyoung." Mark talked amicably, not wanting to piss off anyone in this apartment.

The older man behind the desk moved to take out a thick binded file on the shelves behind him. It was a long 3 minutes until the man finally got to the page he needed. He raised his eyebrows, looked at Mark and Yangyang, then looked at the page again.

"Kid, the unit you mentioned was a crime scene. The cleaners just arrived to wash away the blood and the mess. The tenant—Lee Junyoung—is already dead. A week ago, he stabbed his girlfriend before killing himself—but I heard the girl survived and is currently recuperating at Taeho Memorial Hospital. It's better if you brought this basket there instead."

Mark and Yangyang went blank and dead silent at the information, felt like the whole world froze for a moment, both of their bodies frozen still—then they took off without thanking the old man, bringing along the fruit basket with them into Yangyang's McLaren. On the way to the apartment's parking lot to reach Yangyang's car, Mark was already dialing Jaehyun's number.

Jaehyun was in the studio, nodding along to a beat he was really liking when his phone rang, flashing Mark's picture on his screen. Mark knew he'd be busy, and Mark always liked to text instead of calling anyway. Suddenly feeling dread and a weird sense of urgency take over him, he quickly excused himself out of the studio to take the call.

"Jae, did you know?" Mark sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him, and Jaehyun frowned at the sudden question.

"Know what?"

"Stop fucking around! If you knew, why wouldn't tell me about it? I mean—you know I still care for her and that I'm still not over her yet, so why the fu—"

"Mark! Bro, calm down. What are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles, man—I don't understand what you're trying to say." Jaehyun walked to the windows, looking down on the city as he heard Mark take deep breaths before speaking again.

That was when Mark realised Jaehyun didn't know. He messed with his hair as Yangyang began to drive the car a lot faster than what he was comfortable with. Did the dude even know the directions to Taeho Memorial Hospital?

"It's Y/N, Jae. Junyoung's dead, he killed himself—but before that, he attacked Y/N and—and she got stabbed. She's currently recovering at Taeho Memorial Hospital. Fuck, this is why her lecturer wanted us to give her a goddamn fruit basket."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You wheeled yourself out of Dr. Kim Sejeong's office. She was a wonderful therapist, and you could tell there was progress in your mental health after you agreed to take up therapy to heal yourself—but it didn't change the fact you had felt pushed to do this the first time you entered her office.

You came to a halt when you saw two men rose from the waiting seats outside Dr. Kim's office. You felt your face going stiff, when you realized Kyungsoo and Taeyong had been waiting for you.

These were the two sneaky assholes who roped Junmyeon into their plan in convincing you to get therapy. You still remembered how hard you cried on Junmyeon's shoulder five days ago.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So you found his body." You spoke out, sounding soulless.

Junmyeon nodded beside his old partner, Kyungsoo. Taeyong was busy getting coffee at West Wing's café. A kid ran past in front of your wheelchair, giggling as it chased a butterfly with her mother just right behind her. The hospital's garden was spacious, but there were still some tricky pebbles she should look out for.

"Yep. Yoonsu hadn't been lying—Junyoung was found at the abandoned plant nursery. They were just about to renovate it when we came with a search warrant—ah, the school's director was so annoying, kept bitching about how he didn't want it to leak to the media. People like them are the reason why I decided to become a cop." Junmyeon sighed deeply, loosening his necktie at the memory.

Kyungsoo smirked at the older man, making a snide comment on how the commissioner shouldn't be so crass in front of a civilian. Junmyeon slapped him at the back of the head—it wasn't like he wanted the position, but it was thrusted upon him. Turning it down would anger a lot of people, and that included his own grandfather who had given a lot of gifts to the old commissioner for Junmyeon to be selected as his successor.

You stayed stone faced as the two bickered, and when they realised you were staying quiet, Jumyeon looked at you then shared a look with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo had told him over the phone you might possibly be suffering from a...kind of depression of some sorts after everything Yoonsu made you go through.

You needed someone to push you into the path of proper recovery.

Both men saw Taeyong walking out of the West Wing with a bag in hand, so Junmyeon nodded at Kyungsoo as he fished the inner pockets of his blazer, and Kyungsoo not so discreetly walked away, signalling Taeyong to turn on his heel too.

Junmyeon reached for your hand, forcing your closed fist to open and placed something on your palm. When you pulled your hand away, you saw it was Junyoung's nametag pin. You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at it, buried memories unearthing themselves inside your mind.

"...you know, I couldn't stand Junyoung the first time I met him. He was more crass than me, arrogant, prideful—and most of all, he was so goddamn selfish. I hated that guy, if I have to be honest with you, Y/N." Junmyeon hunched over, placing his elbows on his knees.

He stared right ahead, watching an older brother carrying his younger brother on his back, probably boasting about how strong he was to be able to carry his little brother. Junmyeon let out a pained smile at the sight.

"But after he met you, that selfishness started to chip away. He was still arrogant and foul-mouthed—and if he was alive, I've no doubt he would still be that way—but he couldn't afford to be so selfish anymore when it came to you."

You felt your eyes water as you closed your fingers around the nametag, then you felt Junmyeon's hands cover yours, as if he was also trying to keep that nametag safe from the world like you were.

"Kyungsoo told me. About all the things you said Yoonsu said to you before he killed himself, how your own friend dismissed you when you asked to speak with your brother one last time—Y/N, you have to know that all those things he said to you will never be true, you're not selfish. You deserve to live a life beyond Yoonsu, Y/N. You deserve to live a life beyond Junyoung too. He didn't die because of you, he died because of Yoonsu's selfishness—not yours." Junmyeon spoke softly, watching you cry without making a sound.

"I know you resent your friends for leaving you, and I know you also feel like blaming yourself for it because you were the one that pushed them away first, but you can't keep wallowing in your pain all by yourself, Y/N. If they had hurt you so badly, they should apologise to you—but how could they realise what they did wrong and apologize if you're not letting them know?" Junmyeon started to wipe away your tears, even as you started to shake your head.

"But I can't seem to let it go. I don't know if I could forgive them even if they apologize to me. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it." You sobbed out, feeling so ashamed of yourself.

Junmyeon tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before he placed a hand on the back of your head. This was the same head that his late step cousin loved so much, the same head that Junyoung sacrificed his selfishness for.

"Then get help. Get therapy, receive some counseling. Me and Kyungsoo are scared that if you continue to be like this, you might..." He trailed off, and he didn't have to finish it for you to understand what he was trying to say.

"Please? For Junyoung, at least? He loved you so much, kid. He deserves to see you live a life beyond all this pain, all this suffering...and you owe it to yourself too. Living in misery would just let Yoonsu win in the end. Don't let that asshole win, Y/N."

He saw how your shoulders slumped. You relented, and you started to nod. His hand on the back of your head stretched around your shoulders, letting you cry on his. Finally, Junmyeon felt like his debt with Junyoung was now paid tenfold. At last he got to find where Junyoung was after all these years, and the girl Junyoung loved so much was finally saved from Yoonsu's hold on her.

At last.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Detectives, if my memory serves me well, you belong to Gangnam's Police Force, not Seoul's." You grumbled, not having the strength to fight off Taeyong who was pushing your wheelchair for you.

"And that makes it illegal for us to visit you?" Kyungsoo scoffed from beside you, making you roll his eyes.

You began to tap your foot on the footpad. Kyungsoo caught it, and smirked when he realised he was annoying you. Great, he thought, it's payback for all the times you greatly annoyed him three years ago. It's even more fun when you can't find it in you to whip out snarky comebacks to use against him

"How was therapy? Can me and Taeyong finally go inform your family now? Or are you gonna stall our work for another week?" Kyungsoo side eyed you, and you whipped your head to look at him.

Taeyong cracked a smile, finding it both humorous and heartwarming to see you both bickering. You had been so despondent during the first days, it had him and Kyungsoo relieved to see you having a personality again, even if you were constantly grumpy every time they came and visited you.

"I told you already, Detective Do, I'll tell you when I'm ready. Stop trying to push me to—"

"Y/N?" The familiar voice had you silent in a heartbeat.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong stopped in their tracks, and you included since you were getting wheeled by Taeyong. All three of you stayed frozen at the doorway, seeing so many people in your private room that weren't your doctor and her usual entourage of medical students and nurses (Junmyeon pulled some strings to get you a private room once you were transferred out of the ICU ward. Sometimes you forget Junmyeon also came from a rich family like Yangyang and Chenle).

Inside your room were your remaining family members (Yuno, your father), your foster family (Geonwoo, Woojin, Soyeon), Mark, and your classmates (Xiao, Yangs, Aeri). They felt their breaths stop when they saw you sitting limply on your wheelchair, deep purple bruises all over your face.

You dug your nails into your lap and began to stand up from your wheelchair, alarming Kyungsoo and Taeyong who knew that you were supposed to change your stitches today. Everyone else in the room began to go after you too, seeing how the two men with you were panicking to see you walking by yourself.

You felt like Kyungsoo and Taeyong had betrayed you. You had immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was the detectives that called them over, even when they knew you weren't ready to face them again.

"Kid—" Kyungsoo yelled out, placing a hand on your shoulder when you were already out in the hallway, but you pulled your shoulder away from him so violently it had him going pale, worried that you might tear open your stitches.

And when Taeyong glanced down to the spot where you had been stabbed, he staggered when he saw blood seeping through the shirt the hospital had given you to wear.

"Y/N, stop!" Kyungsoo yelled out again, rushing over to stand in front of you.

The commotion caused everyone in the hallway to stop and witness the scene. Some nurses began to crowd you however, as some of them were already familiar with you and your injury, not wanting you to run and escape when your stitches were obviously ripping. Taeyong held your shoulders from behind while Kyungsoo closed in, forcing you into a bear hug to limit your movements.

You raised your arms and started to pound on his chest, tears streaming down your face at the pain of your stitches ripping open and at the betrayal you felt. The bear hug forced you to your knees, with Kyungsoo whispering something into your ears to calm you down.

"It wasn't us, kid. We didn't inform them. We don't know how they got here, okay? We wouldn't betray you like that. We didn't call them over, Y/N." He spoke softly, and quickly swept you up to carry you in his arms and into your room to lie you down on your bed.

As soon as he lied you down, your doctor came in with her team, immediately pushing everyone out of the room and closing the door in front of them.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Who are you people? How do you know my sister?" Yuno asked stiffly, obviously still frazzled from the commotion you caused earlier.

Taeyong and Kyungsoo stared at the people before them. Just right as Kyungsoo was about to tell them who they were, a voice down the hallway rang through, gathering everyone's attention.

"Detectives!" Dr. Kim, your therapist, appeared.

She staggered back a little when she saw national darling and viral sensation Jeong Jaehyun in front of her. Sejeong tilted her head at him then looked at the detectives for a proper explanation. She just heard that you made a commotion earlier and tore open your stitches.

"I'm sorry, but who are these people?" Sejeong asked sincerely, seeing that all of them were waiting in front of your door.

"Dr. Kim, meet Jeong Y/N's friends and family." Taeyong spoke tiredly, pinching at his temple.

Sejeong balked.

"No! Y/N wasn't ready to see them again, detectives, so how could you! Didn't you promise that you'd only reach them out and inform them once they're ready?" She nearly shrieked, now upset on your behalf.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong looked at your friends and family—well, former friends and family. Both detectives understood that they shouldn't let personal bias cloud their judgement on people (it's literally their job to be that way), but they couldn't help it when all they could see at the moment was Y/N's sole source of pain, now that Yoonsu's dead.

"That's the problem—we didn't inform them. We were wheeling Y/N back to her room so we could spend some time with her and see how she's doing, but when we got to her room, they were already there inside it. It's why she freaked out and tore open her stitches." Taeyong explained thoroughly, looking straight into Yuno's eyes.

"You didn't answer our question earlier, asshole—who the fuck are you, and how do you know Y/N?" Yangyang spoke out this time, stepping out of the group and coming face to face with both of the detectives.

"Okay, time out! Detectives, please take these people to the canteen downstairs to give them the rundown of it. You can't keep crowding the hallway like this, and it's also within Y/N's best interest that you don't overwhelm her once the doctor's done with fixing up her stitches." Sejeong did a karate chop in the air between your friends and family and the detectives.

"Why should we follow your orders?" Mark asked genuinely, and Sejeong sighed at him as she showed them her badges.

"I'm a psychologist working for this hospital, and I also happen to be Y/N's therapist. Please, I beg of you for the sake of my patient, go to the canteen with the detectives. I can't breach patient confidentiality, but these detectives are obligated by the law to explain to Y/N's family on what happened to her."

A/N : might post a pt. 3, but i also might not 🫨

[gayferrari]

okay i am coming to you as carlos fan who loves charles to my core (he is my soul sister!!!) but only ever roots for him for ferrari reasons, trying to see this from charles fans pov how is anything that happened tonight carlos’s fault and not just ferrari’s fault… like i try to be critical and i love to shit on carlos when he is stupid (bc he is stupid a lot) (for example spain24 i fear i am not on his side there) but ferrari fucked carlos over so bad today with his pit stop like i truly believe the thing that happened with charles was more of a fuck you to ferrari and not anything to do with charles at all so like i get why charles fans are upset but… i don’t know again would like to hear your thoughts on tonight

DISCLAIMER VIEWS MY OWN (as in. I don't speak for all Charles fans and probably not even a majority of them about this. and I enjoy it when athletes are petty and angry and grudgy and let out their ugly sides)

my first takeaway is that it's truly not that deep. Like, yeah, it's race day emotions are running high but so are the emotions of the guys in those cars. they're gonna get out of the car, calm down, shower, go on with their lives, and not think half as hard about this stuff as fans do, and some fans will remain upset for far longer than their blorbos will ever remember this. I think it is good to keep in mind before getting worked up

what happened: [regardless of garage 55 brainfart moment] Charles was ahead before the pit stops. At the pit exit, Bryan told Charles that Carlos had been told not to fight him and he should just focus on tyre temp instead of defending; Carlos went ahead and overtook him anyway. (That's when Charles said "Next time tell him in Spanish") Later, when Max was right behind Carlos and Charles was trying to overtake Max, Carlos was really slow. Like, there's speculation on reddit that he was feeding Max DRS <- not saying it happened (WE will never know) BUT he was slow enough that other people went "Wait this is weird," and his frustrated teammate would have noticed. If EYE was fighting for the wcc and I even suspected my teammate put someone else between the two of us (costing the team points) to protect his individual race, I would also go off about it. Regardless of whether it's true. Again! Not saying this is what happened and we will never know, but earlier in the race Carlos was definitely told not to overtake, and did it, and between the two of them he's the one with a history of ignoring team orders.

EYE (tumblr user gayferrari) have my own opinions. nuance button. I don't think you should get a gold star for being a "good teammate" or that following team orders is always the right thing. But CHARLES clearly values it, and in the past he's actually put his money where his mouth is and pulled his weight even when it cost him individual points, and I can understand he'd go on a heated tirade for 4 seconds when he's high on adrenaline. I don't think any of this should be a big tell about Charles's personality, team dynamics, his relationship with Carlos or whatever. I think he just spoke without a filter for a couple seconds, and I believe in taking these kinds of radio moments with a big pinch of salt. I'm gonna RPFy the shit out of this because I am on f1blr to have fun not to get angry. But I don't agree Charles was mad at the team, it was a very much "other side of the garage" kinda moment.

(*) note also that Carlos was told to swap with Charles earlier and DID do that, but after a few laps / because he was struggling with pace + very early on, when Charles dropped P2 -> P4, he was the one who spontaneously brought up letting Carlos pass because he knew he was struggling. So they both had moments where they were collaborating this race. I'm bringing this up for completion's sake, like, yeah Carlos swapped when asked even if late! But he also overtook when told not to

I hope this clears it up! Again, it's MY view that it's not that serious because we all choose how to enjoy sports and I'd much rather get angry about other things I feel matter more, and leave the petty drama as RPF fodder. But everyone enjoys sports differently so I can't speak for others

[wuuuuman]

Hazard x Reader - You little Gommy

first tumblr post!!! need more fics of him omg pls 1.1k words fluff!! sorry scotland if i fucked up ur language - The quiet atmosphere was deafening, a place usually so full of laughter and talking, suddenly turned to the complete opposite. Everyone in the gang had left to steal a high tech weapon from the Oasis. Well, everyone but her. She stared at the ceiling, the bed creaking a little bit as she moved. Her eyes wandered across the whole room, going through every little detail as if she had never been there before. Boredom can really make a person mad huh?  Her eyes looked through the photos they had taken together as a family. Some of them only have certain people and so on. Her eyes lingered on the picture of her and Findlay, well he is better known as Hazard. She slowly got up from the bed, walking towards the counter and staring at the holographic picture. In the picture they both stared at the camera smiling widely as he held it up, she remembered when they took this photo. It took him so long to figure out how to press one button and she couldn’t stop laughing at him. Such a small thing had such a big impact on her memories. She couldn’t help but let a small smile form on her face as she remembered A sudden sharp pain however had that smile wipe away. She let out a loud groan, her hand immediately flying to hold her side. Oh right, she had gotten hurt during action in their last mission. A guard sneaked up to her and landed a very mean punch to her side, bruising the whole side. Yeah the guard had some sort of knuckle braces or something, was a hard hit anyway. She could remember being so scared that her ribs had been busted, or that the braces had gone deep into her skin, good thing it was none of that. Ribs just got bruised a lot, very painful. She cursed to herself as she tried heading back to bed, only for the pain to strike her back two times worse now. She could only stand still, holding her side, even if touching it wasn’t the best idea either. She leaned on the counter, keeping her balance, waiting for the stronger pain to pass. It was at that moment she heard the faint muffled noise of an engine coming closer and closer. It must be the gang! FUCK! They couldn’t see her out of the bed, she tried to walk forward, pushing through the pain. The quick movements made everything worse, one bad move caused her to twist in a bad way and she fell down onto her knees, fighting against her angry tears. She felt so fucking useless like this. She heard the heavy door to their hideout open, bringing with it loud laughter and quick chatter. One of the voices really stood out to her, Hazard. “We really tore tha' place down ay?!” He laughed, his heavy Scottish accent so intoxicating to her. “You really scared us there for a moment champ.” BoomSlang said, shaking her head as if disappointed even though a smile rested on her face. “Ah! You woulda’ done the same if you were in my place.” He chuckled, giving her back a few pats before walking past all of them. “‘Right. I'm gonna head to bed, don’t do ‘nothin stupid without me!” He waved his hand before disappearing down the hall Hazard walked further from the laughter and chatter of his friends, his steps confident and full of energy. His mind was racing, thinking about everything that happened today. One thing he knows for sure though is that he feels fucking awesome and that he cannot wait to embrace his little darling.

He neared his room and as he finally stopped in front of the door he listened for a moment. Considering there was light coming from the small crack below the door and if she was doing something, but he couldn’t hear anything, perhaps she was still sleeping and recovering. He smiled to himself, opening the door slowly. He was not expecting to see her on the floor on her knees holding her side, trying to lift herself up. “Whadda’ ya doin bonny??!” He said a bit urgently, rushing to her side. “I’m sorry Lay’... I just don't know. I was looking at the pictures, completely forgetting my predicament.” She sighed, looking up at him. “You little gommy. Let’s get ya back to bad ‘right?” He said softly, carefully maneuvering his cybernetic arms to not hurt her. “Thank you..” She mumbled, accepting his gentle help. Once he had her safely tucked under the covers he sat down on the side of the bed, the mattress sinking a bit under her weight. He turned his head over his shoulder, staring at her. She stared back, captivated by his pretty eyes, her cheeks burning up a bit. He chuckled, turning himself around a bit more, so that his whole upper body was now in her line of sight. “Aye.. ya know you can always ask for help right?” He smiled at her, using his left hand to caress her cheek lovingly. “Just don’t wanna be a bother to you…” She mumbled, leaning her head into his palm. “You could neva’ bother me ya numpty. I love you after all don’t i?” He chuckled. She blushed at his words, she had been together with him long enough to figure out some of the slang he used when referring to her or other people. Right now he called her a lovable moron, some people could get offended but they loved lovingly insulting each other, just part of their love language really.

“Alright, you get some sleep yeah? Otherwise yer gonna miss that beauty sleep of yous.” Hazard said, about to get up from the bed to give her some alone time, only to be stopped by a hand quickly latching onto his wrist. She winched a little bit at the sudden movement again, but nothing was going to stop her from speaking her mind. “Wait, please. Could you.. stay with me hun..? I just.. I don't wanna sleep alone, and I need your company..” She asked quietly.

“You know I could neva’ say no to you.” He slowly and carefully climbed into the bed, thankful he had switched out his gun for his other cybernetic arm so that it would be less uncomfortable for her to sleep on. She smiled at him, and snuggled up beside him, his body a walking furnace, she felt so safe and warm beside him. He stared down at her, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her nerves. She looked up at him and motioned for him to lean down a bit which he did. Her lips slowly landed on his, giving him a long kiss goodnight. “Sleep well lassie.” “You too dummy.” - I TRIED!!! Please hazard lovers request stories so i stay motivated

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 1)

Contains: mean Daemon, mentions of words like slut and whore

Wordcount: ~3.54k

Masterlist of this story

114 AC (Maera is 17 years old)

Maera nervously bit at her thumb.

It was a good kind of nervous though. Not the kind when she attended a feast and some lord wanted to dance with her and she feared to stumble over her own feet. It was the happy kind. The kind when she couldn't wait for something to happen.

The sky was bluer than it had been for a long time and perhaps it was a sign from the gods. Maera's eyes were darting over the sky searching for the little dot that she had been forced to watch leave three years ago and now finally, after all this time she knew that she got to see it again.

During the past years she sometimes had found herself looking up at the sky in hopes that the dot would magically appear again. That Daemon would surprise the whole court and King's Landing with his sudden arrival on Caraxes but it hadn't happened. Three years weren't a particulary long time but for a litte girl it was the world.

Maera clearly remembered what it had been like after her uncle had left. She had fallen into a hole, some sort of numb and grey state where she just wouldn't smile or dance or sing or even eat. Nothing seemed exciting anymore with Daemon gone and Maera spent hours just staring at her ceiling while trying to find a purpose in anything she did.

Without her uncle her life had become boring and dreary and her father and also the other members of the small council had felt concerned because the previously joyful and lively princess had grown into a quiet and cold girl. Over time in the loneliness of her chambers a deep fury shooting at Daemon and her father had grown.

Obviously Maera knew that her uncle hadn't had a chance when he was sent away to fight at the stepstones and yet she felt neglected and hurt. How could he just leave her? How couldn't he sense how bad she was feeling and didn't come to get her? And she didn't even want to start with her father. The king had taken from her what was most precious to her and she was determined to let him feel how much it bothered her. She only gave him short answers, angrily flashed her eyes at him every time he wanted to tell her what to do and disobeyed him at any given chance. Maera had become bitter and sour and indifferent to what happened around her.

And yet right now was the first time in months that she felt a warmth inside of her belly because Daemon would come back today. She knew that things wouldn't be the same. Their distance over the last years led to several changes in Maera's feelings towards Daemon. She knew that she couldn't hide her hurt even once he was back and his absence had also given the girl a lot of time to think about their relationship and over time Maera had started to feel that her love for him had developed into a plain uncle-niece relationship. It was like a candle.

During her childhood Daemon had lit this candle and made it burn for him. Then he had left so that candle had gone out which had left Maera in coldness and darkness. And so while the candle was still beautiful to look at it simply wasn't the same and never would be. Maera appreciated the candle for what it was but nothing more.

And yet she of course couldn't wait to see her uncle again after these three painful years. It was only noon and Lord Envor had predicted his arrival for the late afternoon but Maera was already at the dragonpit and desperately searched the sky. She had to wait for another 2 hours until there was finally a dark spot in the sky. By now her thumb was bloody from all the nibbling but Maera couldn't care less. She just felt her heart beating fast and relentlessly bit her lip and then Caraxes became bigger and bigger before her eyes.

It was no surprise that she was the only person here to welcome him back because though his long absence most people in court still either feared or dispised the rogue prince. Maera couldn't hide a smile now because Caraxes had landed and she could spot the familiar armour and helmet with his silver hair blown in the wind.

"Uncle.", she shouted though not sure if he could hear her from that far away.

But it didn't matter anyway because he had spotted her and climbed off his dragon with a wide smile as well. He removed his helmet and Maera was already on her way to run towards him. It was overwhelming, surreal to see him again now because the girl had dreamed of a situation like this a million times during the past years and now it actually happened. It was difficult to process but right now Maera tried to stay in the moment and savour it.

She ran towards him and then jumped in his arms. Daemon chuckled quietly against her hair while wrapping his arms around her back so she wouldn't fall down. For a moment Maera was too emotional and overwhelmed to say anything to him so they stood like that in silence until she felt him caress her hair which brought her back to reality in some way.

"I'm soooo glad, uncle.", she said, or better nearly whispered and her words were additionally muffled by his shoulder and yet he understood them.

"Me too, little girl, me too. We haven't seen each other in quite a while, have we?"

Maera shook her head and then pulled away to look at Daemon. His hair was a little shorter now but aside from that he pretty much looked the same. Dirt was covering his armor and a bit of his skin as well but it was nothing a good and long bath couldn't fix. A wave of happiness flooded Maera's system all of a sudden and she tightly held him which her uncle noticed.

"Really? You missed your favourite uncle that much? You're probably the only one who's happy to see me, love."

She grinned and then grabbed his arm.

"Let's go inside. Father probably wants to see you."

"Does he though?", Daemon asked with one of his eyebrows lifted but Maera determindely nodded.

"Of course. You have to tell us all about your time at the stepstones. Father told me how bravely you fought."

~~~~~~~~~~

Maera, Daemon, Aegon and Viserys spent the afternoon lazily eating and drinking in the gardens. Daemon told them about his past three years and though there was a tension between him and his brother in the beginning, soon it felt a lot like many years ago. And yet Maera could feel that something had shifted between her and her uncle. She still admired Daemon of course but when she was younger she perhaps had been in love with him a little, a feeling that had vanished over the time.

They had a great time though and Maera hadn't smiled that much in months. Even Viserys seemed relaxed and so the afternoon tea turned into supper and then the sun had set and Maera couldn't help but yawn open-mouthed.

"Niece.", Daemon warned her and she closed her mouth at once.

"Forgive me.", she said and her uncle nodded approvingly.

"But I'm really tired and I think I would like to go to bed.", Maera then spoke.

Viserys nodded and so the girl stood up to leave the table with her brother Aegon. Once they were gone Daemon sighed and leaned back in his chair his legs crossed. His brother relaxed as well and waited for Daemon to say something but he didn't so Viserys started.

"Well… I'm glad you're safely back. Because though I know you don't believe me when I say this, I didn't exile you because I wanted you gone forever."

He wanted to get a reaction from his brother, see where they were standing but once again Daemon didn't do him the favor. He didn't even look at his brother and had his eyes fixed on a tree while having his arms crossed in front of him.

"Daemon.", Viserys tried again but he just chuckled and then finally turned to lay his eyes on the king.

"I wish to wed Maera."

Viserys' jaw dropped and he laughed in disbelief. "What?"

"I want her as my wife. She is of age now, I'm back from my exile and we can keep the blood line pure."

Viserys shook his head and still seemed like he couldn't believe his words.

"What? You can't be serious. No, of course you will not."

Daemon looked cold in his expression, like he didn't care about the refusal. "Why not? It would be in tradition of our house."

"You… No! I don't have to explain myself. You wouldn't be good for her. It's that easy."

It scared Viserys in some way how Daemon didn't even look angry or disappointed but smugly smirked to himself. It made his words, the words of the king seem less powerful.

"How… I mean why are you even suggesting this out of the blue? You haven't seen her in years and now you come back with the desire to wed her?"

Daemon rolled his eyes. "As I said. She's of age now.", he hissed.

Viserys shook his head and turned his head away. How could he think he would agree to that? There had been a reason why Viserys had sent his brother away and he was pretty sure that Daemon knew it as well. He hadn't been blind to the bond between his brother and Maera when they were younger and he had watched it with fear.

In the beginning Viserys had been relieved that his daughter had found a person she trusted and a companion in his brother but soon he was rather worried. Because he knew his brother so well and he knew what a violant and dangerous person Daemon could be. Him so near to his only daughter…? And her having such an affection for her uncle? They had spent almost every second together and so Viserys had found that he didn't have a choice but to separate them. He hadn't even been sure what he feared would happen but he didn't want to find out either. And now this. Of course he couldn't allow it.

While still looking away Viserys heard his brother get up from his chair and move away from him. Only when his back faced him did the king glance at him and watched him leave the gardens like a shadow flitting away into the darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~

Viserys nervously tapped with his finger on the table in front of him.

He hummed to himself, chewed on his buttom lip while waiting for his daughter. He had sent Ser Tommen 15 minutes ago and yet there was no sign of Maera. Viserys just hoped that she wasn't with Daemon.

Then finally the door sprang open and Ser Tommen bowed his head while Maera walked into the room with a curious look on her face.

"Father. You want to speak with me?"

The king nodded and gestured her to sit down next to him which she gladly did.

"Where have you been? Ser Tommen seemed to have searched for you for quite some time."

His daughter smiled softly. "I went to fly with uncle. You know I haven't seen Caraxes in so long as well so… We were very careful, I promise!"

Viserys nodded graciously but felt an uneasiness inside of him. It was as he had feared but he had planned to put an end to this at once.

"Yes. Fine. This is not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Maera adjusted in her chair and thoughtfully bit her lip. "What is it?"

Her father cleared his throat and just hoped that Maera would react to this with reason and not let herself get swapped away with emotion.

"You're 17 now and you know that we have spoken about marriage already." Maera watched him with small eyes, sensing in what direction this was heading.

"I want you to marry Lord Brandeth Lannister."

Her eyes fluttered. "What?"

"He is a fine match and he has already expressed his desire to take you to wife."

Maera's face was drawn with desperation. "No father, please. Please, not him. He is way too old, please."

As much as it hurt the king to see his daughter begging him like that, he had to remain hard now, for her own sake.

"I'm sure you will get along well. Give him a chance, Maera. He has proven himself loyal to the crown and to our family and I know he will treat you nicely."

But Maera seemed shocked, completely swamped with her father's choice of her betrothed and stammered her next words.

"B-But… n-no. I don't want t-to."

She was close to tears now and Viserys exhaled feeling like this wasn't the way he had planned things at all.

"My dear. Think about it please. I'm sure over time you will be able to accept and appreciate this union."

"I don't have a choice anyway.", Maera pressed and turned her head away so her father couldn't see the tears running down her face.

"But if you are willing to be unbiased you might…"

He was cut off by his daughter who abruptly got off her chair and flashed her eyes at him.

"I won't forgive you this.", Maera hissed and each of these syllables broke Viserys' heart.

"Maera please.", he breathed but she was already halfway out the door and didn't hear it.

Maera almost ran into Daemon once she turned around a corner. Her plan was to directly head to her rooms and preferably lock herself inside for the rest of her life but now that Daemon blocked the corridor she had no choice but to glare at him and tried her best to hide her fury. But of course her uncle knew her too well to overlook it.

"Niece. You look upset."

She blinked a few times and rubbed over her eyes and then gulped loudly.

"What is it, sweetling?", Daemon asked softly and Maera exhaled in an attempt to calm her temper. 'Who cared?', she thought. He would find out anyway.

"My father. He… He just told me he intends to marry me to Brandeth Lannister."

Her voice has gotten more quiet with these words and the last word was barely audible and yet Daemon had understood.

"Oh.", he made with lifted eyebrows. "That's unfortunate."

She nodded and new tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. "I don't want to marry him, I don't want to get to know him, I just…. I just want to do what I want."

Her uncle sighed deeply and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"And what is it you want, Maera?"

She hesitated. Was it clever to tell Daemon what dominated, controlled her mind at the moment? What influenced her every decision? He sensed her uncertainty and a gentle smile built on his lips.

"Why do you despise this union so much, little one?"

Maera's eyes scampered over his face as though she tried to find out whether Daemon would support her after she made her confession or look down at her. But she couldn't find anything so she anxiously scratched at her wrists and dropped her gaze.

"I-I… I don't want to marry him…. Because there is someone else I would like to marry."

A wide smirk formed on Daemon's face and he came a little closer. His finger lifted her chin so she had to look at her uncle.

"And who's that, mhm?"

Once again she hesitated and awaited if someone else would magically appear and answer this question for her but the gods were cruel and left her alone in this horrible situation.

"I wish to wed Ser Harwin Strong.", Maera whispered and the finger below her chin dropped at once.

"What?", Daemon fizzled and now her eyes searched for his by herself. "You wish to wed this idiotic cunt?"

The girl fearfully took a step back because she hadn't expected this kind of reaction from him. She had expected him to either advise her not to fight her father's choice and accept the match or support her in her desire. But not that he would insult Ser Harwin.

Ser Harwin… What a man he truly was. He had been by Maera's side for quite some time now and ever since Daemon had left for the stepstones the two of them had gotten to know each other better. That had been perhaps the only good thing that had happened during these three years. Ser Harwin had accompaigned her while she was out hunting, had guarded her door and had turned a blind eye when Maera had sneaked into her chambers late at night because she had forgotten the time while reading an ancient book in the library.

They had started to speak more frequently and then things developped into a friendship and a few months later Maera had understood that she fancied the young knight. He was gorgeous with long and thick brown hair, had a gentle and wide smile and was tall and strong like a real warrior. And the most important thing was, he understood her in ways that no one else was capable of. Long before Maera had thought that Daemon was the only one who could but after he had left she had yearned for that very thing again and had found it in Harwin.

She knew that it was foolish to think that she could actually marry him just like that. He was still a knight of the king's guard, sworn to protect her and her family but… Maera couldn't help but dream sometimes about what it would be like to wed him. And she had thought that from all people her beloved uncle would be able to at least understand her to some extent. Hadn't he been the one who was also a victim of her father's ongoing lectures about tradition and courtesy? She had thought that Daemon didn't give a damn about customs as well. Maera now stared at him with big eyes.

"Y-Yes. I… We get along very well."

Daemon scoffed. "The gods save you and your bad taste."

Her eyes glistened because why did he act that way? Why was he mocking her? Maera felt an anger growing inside of her and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Why are you speaking that way? Ser Harwin is a fine and honourable man who lives up to his duties and protects my father."

"An honourable man?", Daemon asked with lifted eyebrows, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You contradict yourself, little one. I don't think it's honourable to give up your vows to be intimate with the king's maiden daughter. But I may be wrong. What do I know about honour, after all?"

Her jaw dropped and her cheeks reddened with shame.

"H-He hasn't been intimate with me, uncle. I swear it to you. We've only talked and… and laughed together but n-never in my life would I… I would never let a man d-do… this with me b-before we get married."

Daemon chuckled quietly but it sounded evil and mean.

"I don't believe you. I only had to take a look at the two of you all comfortably talking in the yard today in the morrow. His eyes. He looked at you the way someone looks at a girl who has spread her legs for him."

Maera brought her hand over her mouth and tears welled in her eyes.

"How can you say something like that, uncle?"

But Daemon still wasn't done and observed his niece angrily. "I think you're a little whore. Who couldn't satisfy her profane desires and has let someone sully her before her wedding. Do you think some noble lord would marry someone like that?"

Maera was crying now and was in disbelief over her uncle's words.

"He didn't touch me, uncle, I swear it! Please, you have to believe me." She had her eyes widened and felt panick controlling her thoughts.

"I'd never – You know that I would never…"

But Daemon scoffed and ignored how desperate his niece felt. Instead his face tensed and Daemon grinded his teeth.

"You should feel ashamed of yourself. It's not fit for a young lady to throw herself at an anoited knight of the king's guard. Have I not taught you anything?"

Maera sobbed and grabbed her uncle's arm in an attempt to show him that she was telling the truth.

"Please uncle. Please, it wasn't like that. I only wanted to… He is a good friend."

But Daemon didn't pay any attention to her pleas and removed her hand from his arm.

"Shut up. You're a slut and I do hope you're going to reflect your disgusting behaviour."

With these words the rogue prince angrily flashed his eyes at her one last time and then turned around to leave a crying girl behind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss

[max--phillips]

Okay here goes

First, the spoiler free stuff:

Ridley Scott knows how to make a fucking film.

If I don’t see fics of Acacius x reader x Lucilla I will begin biting

If you are going in it for Pedro, I will warn you his character is very important but kind of… idk, shallow is too strong of a word, but not very fleshed out. I don’t think that’s an issue in the greater scheme of the movie though, it makes sense in the plot and doesn’t feel out of place or bad in the universe.

If you are going in it for Paul Mescal, you will not be disappointed.

Please watch the first movie first. The story will not make any fucking sense if you don’t.

Just the right amount of flashbacks and footage from the first movie . Chefs kiss

Ridley Scott really said “all emperors and tyrants are nasty little freaks with terrible vibes”

Oh also if you’re squeamish about gore and stuff like. It’s a movie about gladiators so set your expectations accordingly. There is an instance of a disembodied head used as a prop. So y’know

Okay, spoilery stuff below the cut

Arishat was hot :( rip

Monkeys at the beginning? Terrible. 0/10 did not enjoy that. Also did not enjoy seeing and hearing Mr. Mescal BITING ONE

I love Ravi I would watch a whole movie just about him tending to gladiators’ wounds quite frankly. Give me that story

We love to see bisexuality on screen (even though that wasn’t a social identity at the time but we’re not here to talk about that) what with the concubines and drunk as fuck Macrinus

Speaking of drunk as fuck Macrinus: that whole scene was so fucking funny. They’re like that meme about people getting high. You know the one

Speaking of Macrinus—Denzel Washington stole the show. When TIME magazine pushed a story to me today headlined “Gladiator II Belongs to Denzel Washington,” I was like, pshhhh, nah. But it really does. It’s not about him? But it’s his fucking show.

The politics . THE POLITICS

It feels a little heavy handed right now but that wasn’t probably how it was intended, given it was made before. Y’know. The election. But the whole dream of Rome being a place where everyone is equal and cared for but you can only whisper it or it’ll shatter? Yeah.

Oh, right, Acacius: that dude is so tired he does NOT want to be there. Let him go home to his hot wife. Alas, his hot wife is the way she is and like… no good deed goes unpunished.

And I fucking called it with my text post a few months ago. Two (2) movies now where Denzel Washington (either directly or indirectly) kills Pedro Pascal. Brilliant

Admittedly selfishly I would’ve liked to see more of him. But it felt like the correct thing in the context of the story. If he didn’t die then, if he wasn’t the inciting event for the uprising of the people of Rome, it wouldn’t have made sense and it would’ve just been fan service and “look, we got Pedro Pascal!” at that point.

I would’ve liked to see a more in-depth exploration of the change in relationship between Lucius and Lucilla—it seems like they went from Lucius screaming at her to get out to them hugging it out without any real development between the two of them specifically. Obviously a lot had happened in the world of the movie at that point but nonetheless

Macrinus shooting Lucilla was his Icarus moment. There was no coming back from that. “But what about Geta” “but what about Caracalla” no. It was Lucilla. If she’d gotten got by the praetorian guards or something else, it would’ve been fine. But because it was Macrinus there was nowhere he could go from there other than [checks notes] getting his hand chopped off and then gutted in a dirty irrigation ditch.

Remember kids, the people in power who are causing all of the things going wrong in the world have names and addresses and are mortal <3

Also another takeaway from the movie: imperialism, religious extremism, ableism, and authoritarianism will be the end of us all <3

Anyway. Good movie. Can’t wait to watch it again in my own home with subtitles so I can actually like… process everything everyone was saying LMAO and take better reaction notes.

I’m still sitting in the theater parking lot it’s been like 30 minutes LMAO okay thanks for coming to my tedtalk or whatever

[kalinara]

Oddly, I find myself inspired to talk about Scott/Emma today.

I want to disclaim first that I actually really do enjoy the Scott/Emma ship. I think, at their best, they were amazingly good for each other. I think she was the partner he needed at a time when he needed to be harder and more ruthless, less yielding, for the sake of the survival of their people. I think he helped her remember the good person that she;s always been capable of being, despite her anger, rage and pain, and made her want to be that person again.

But I will never not be frustrated by so many aspects of how the relationship began. And I'm going to get into them below the cut.

(Content warning: I'm going to discuss violation, victim-blaming, and sexual assault/rape.)

So, let me talk about my first frustration:

I will never be able to stop my knee jerk reaction whenever I see someone, in character or out, call it a "psychic affair", when it goddamn well wasn't.

(New X-Men #131)

What it was, was a case of therapeutic abuse. He went to her FOR THERAPY. The "affair" was conducted in the course of therapeutic sessions. This isn't just malpractice, something that, were Emma a real person in the real world, would cost her her license.

In the State of New York, real world, what Emma's doing is a prosecutable crime. Because a patient, in the course of therapy, has diminished capacity to consent.

And look, it's not that I think this is a deal-breaker to their future relationship. The X-Men are fucked up. We all know that. But it is irksome to me that, to this day, this is referred to as an "affair", and not a single character has ever pointed out that Scott was not actually a consenting equal partner here, but a victim.

(In retrospect, maybe THIS is the first initial sign that Hank McCoy was slowly drifting to the dark side, because I cannot imagine a man like DOCTOR Henry McCoy, of this era and before, not being seriously aware of and passionate about the ethical responsibilities that a doctor has to his patients.)

It's probably fair to note the Doyleist elements. It is possible that the writer/artist team never intended this to be as violating and victimizing as it is. But I am skeptical of this. You can't tell me that the people who wrote and drew THIS SEQUENCE:

(New X-Men #128)

did not know they were writing Emma as a sexual predator here.

(I have seen folks bring up the "defense" that Scott was a fucking idiot to go to her for help, as though that in any way excuses her actions. Surprise! Someone who has been recently traumatized does not make wise decisions! That is entirely shocking! It's almost like he might not be in a position to consent to a sexual relationship with someone claiming to act as a therapist!)

--

You know what's even more frustrating though? The shit Scott gets for the actual START of their relationship.

You remember how it goes? Jean's dead. Scott is at her grave, mourning. Emma goes to him with an offer - a relationship and a co-leader position at the school. He accepts and there's that infamous making out at the grave scene.

It's awful! It's completely understandable that this turns off a lot of folk both readers and in character.

Except that's NOT what initially happened.

THIS is the scene as it initially, actually happened:

(New X-Men #151)

So yeah, THIS is what actually happens. Emma makes her offer. Scott says no. He leaves.

But THEN we get a whole storyline with future bad things happening, and well, apparently someone gets the idea that there's one really good way to avoid all of that mess happening.

So in New X-Men #154, we get this:

And the same scene again:

The exact same scene. Same place, same dialogue, same time.

But what's Scott's response:

It's really hard not to read this as anything but Scott having his "No" literally rewritten to a "Yes" by a future version of his own wife.

And here's the thing, this isn't a meaningless action. Scott takes a LOT of shit from a LOT of his friends and family for this decision. Not just taking up with Emma so early after Jean's death, but also where it happens. THIS IS JEAN'S GRAVE after all.

Rachel, his DAUGHTER, is furious. She basically disowns him outright, switching to her mother's surname and costume. It isn't until the End of Greys (meanspirited bullshit of a story worthy of another rant someday), and their shared grief, that they're able to reconcile.

Hank, probably the closest friend he has at this time, is utterly disgusted. And so many others have similar reactions.

Look, it can be frustrating to read and talk about X-Factor because, in my opinion, so much of Scott's choices are mischaracterized and taken out of context. But at least those are CHOICES that he actually made.

This wasn't a choice! This was an incredibly fucked up act of spousal rape by proxy committed by a hypothetical future version of Jean, where all of the negative consequences fell on the victim's head. Both victims, really, because Emma was not a willing participant in the violation of her new partner.

And what makes it so much more frustrating is that this will never be addressed. There is, I think, a very slight chance that one day an actual, ethical therapist or Doctor might hear the story of the affair and point out "actually, no, that was actually something terrible that happened to you."

But no one is ever going to learn the truth here. Why would it even come up? Scott and Emma have been longer as exes (Krakoa polyamory possibilities aside) than they've been together. Jean isn't the same Jean, she's as innocent of this as young Hank is of any of Hank Prime's crimes.

So this will never get addressed, ever, and I will seethe eternally at yet another example of unjust treatment toward my favorite character. And I can't even be mad at the people involved this time (unlike AvX!) because he DID what they're mad at him about.

It's just he DIDN'T initially, and it's so frustrating.

--

Again, i don't intend this rant to reflect on Scott and Emma as a pairing on the whole. As I said above, I think, on the whole, the two have been very good for each other. I like the weird whatever-it-is they had going on in Krakoa.

(I could have done without that X-Men Blue storyline where she tries to psychically force baby Cyclops INTO adult Cyclops, but that's a rant for another day. I was really glad to see her back as a proper anti-heroine in Rosenberg's run later.)

I just hate that these darker parts of their origin have never been satisfactorily addressed and it will always bother me.

[kurishiri]

18.5 . . . “ a meaningless emotion ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 his side story, chapter 18. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: the very end may be considered suicidal ideation.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

I slipped out of the bed and changed——if I loitered around the castle, running into her would be a pain.

(Today there’ll be some merrymaking happening amongst the eccentric nobility.)

It wasn’t as though I wanted to go out of my way to go there, but it was a perfect way to kill time.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: Alright then, what shall we bet on next?

Drunken man: I got it! How about this oil painting that my old man said was his most valued one, not that I know anything about it!

Crossdressing woman: Did you steal that? Vincent… huh, who is this? Never heard of him. Isn’t it just a cheap thing?

Alfons: Hehe, I must say it’s quite unlike nobility to worry over the value of the good.

Crossdressing woman: But it’s not so exciting, you know, it’s better to have something that shows its value.

Alfons: Well then… how about I give a dream where “this painting is worth 500 pounds?”

Man smoking a cigar: Oh, that’s a good idea.

Whether it was nobility, drunken people at some street corner of the bar, the orphans at the East End, and what have you, they weren’t so different.

They would find any pleasure they could through gambling, liquor, or sex, so they could live while avoiding their pains and worries.

Drunken nobleman: Hey, Al, is that rumor about you having a recent favorite true?

Noble lady with gloves: Al, you mustn’t become someone’s partner! We need you to stay a star of all single nobles.

Alfons: Yes, yes, such was my intention.

Drunken nobleman: So you say, but your heart’s already taken by that person, isn’t it?

Alfons: Hehe, I digress.

Man smoking a cigar: …Let’s just leave it at that. If we question him any more, he may never come again, and that would sure put us in a bind.

Man smoking a cigar: Even if his heart’s got its sights set on someone, it’s fine as long as he shares some of that pleasure… isn’t that right?

Noble lady with gloves: Well, I suppose. Ahh, I hope my father gives up on matters of my marriage soon…

(‘My heart’s already taken by that person’… huh.)

When I heard those words that seemed to embody the soul of romanticism,

Kate was the one and sole person who came to mind, and for a moment, I felt called out.

——You hurt me so much and leave me in the dust, but now you decide to commit? That’s just cruel…!

At some point, the little robin had made its home within my mind, making an angered face and suddenly turning away.

(Hehe… it’s not as though I’m committing.)

Alfons: Perhaps I do have some guilt left in me… ah, it’s a straight flush.

Drunken man: Al’s win again?!

As I was staring in a daze at the trump cards raining and fluttering down,

just as I had intended, time melted away into idleness.

I ended up drinking through the night until dawn and having a meat pie from a street seller for breakfast, I returned to the castle, and——

Alfons: Oh?

In a stroke of bad luck, I happened upon Roger and Miss Kate walking together.

Kate: Ah... w-welcome back.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

Leaving aside the mentally strong former doctor who, regardless whether he was aware he was being hated on, would initiate a conversation with a light tone and carefree smile,

Miss Kate very obviously looked awkward.

(I can’t even flatter your acting skills.)

She was the complete opposite of me, who had a lot of practice when it came to plastering on a smile.

Alfons: Well I’ll be, are you on your way to a most friendly outing, the two of you?

Kate: Ah, no, we’re...

Roger: What, curiosity got you piqued?

As if to make a point, Roger wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulder snugly.

Kate: Roger!? What are you doing—

Roger: Alright then, let me fill you in. We’re gonna be spending the whole entire day holed up in a locked room, just the two of us. Let’s get along now, yeah?

(This man needs to get a hobby.)

(I hardly have any intention of hopping on that cheap provocation.)

Alfons: Oh my, is that so? It would appear you’ve found yourself a lovely playmate while I was not around. I’m happy for you, Miss Kate.

Kate: …

I gave a smile to convey I didn’t think anything of it, and Miss Kate, as though hurt, furrowed her brows.

(Aha, you poor soul, you.)

I figured she probably wasn’t clinging to Roger in hopes that he would heal her broken heart.

I knew very well that she was hardly the type to be able to do such things.

Her single-mindedness in facing me no matter how much I refused or hurt her was staunch to be sure.

(And that’s exactly what makes her different from me… I suppose.)

(Well, whether she’ll make it out safely from the basement after being alone with this man is a different story…)

(But it doesn’t have anything to do with me, so.)

The moment I tried to leave, Miss Kate opened her mouth, as though trying to pull me back.

Kate: Alfons..!

Alfons: ? Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...I still very much like you.

Alfons: ...Come again?

Roger: ... (O_O)

It was such a sudden confession of love, I stiffened out of instinct.

(………Has she gone bonkers?)

(You do know I’m the man who played your feelings of love, and to top it all off, told you it was all a ‘nuisance’ and left the bed, right?)

And yet she still insisted on pouring these dazzling words on me; what else could I think her as, if not crazy?

Kate: Even if this all amounts to a nuisance to you... this is the ‘truth’ for me, so.

Alfons: .........

(Ah, now I’ve done it. This should be the part where I laugh it all off.)

I needed to make her think that, no matter how earnestly she threw her feelings at me, they would never get through, so she could give up on me.

(So that these feelings of love she holds for me amounts to nothing but garbage…)

(I need to laugh at her, to deny her——)

My mind knew that, and yet for some reason, my lips couldn’t form a smile.

Kate: Okay, we’re going, Roger.

Miss Kate, seeming as though she wanted to run from my silence, ran down the staircase leading to the basement.

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps grew more distant, I heard an unpleasant laughter.

I hated how this man would not seem to pay any mind to the feelings of others like that.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly turning for the staircase, those egoistic lips showed a provoking smile.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

Perhaps the reason I felt displeasure rise up from within me was because the one before me was a man filled with haughty arrogance.

Or was it because she was the one getting stolen?

(Whichever it is, I shouldn’t care for the answer.)

(Because, in any case, I didn’t have such a choice to step even further into her life to find the reason for this temporary displeasure.)

If that was the case, thinking on it was foolish. And yet——

Her lips, which were trembling as she declared how she ‘still liked me,’

the palms of her hands, which were gripped tightly together as though grasping onto courage,

and those eyes that looked so directly at me, as if to say to not misunderstand,

were all engraved into the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

The heavy footsteps going down the staircase grated on my ears, severely so.

For the feeling of a favorite toy being stolen away, it felt extremely bitter.

(Is this… jealousy? Me, of all people? But, how?)

The notion of getting something I said I didn’t need taken away, and then still feeling displeased over it and whatnot, was much like a child’s selfishness.

And besides——

(…The most I was able to do was imitate love, feeling nothing but emotional disconnect.)

Alfons: …I suppose the biggest mystery to one is themself.

Labeling the jealousy I felt that bubbled up from somewhere in me as ‘meaningless,’ I threw it behind me.

Thinking on it more would only make my helplessness more clear than it already was.

Hoping to idle the time away, I walked to my room, when all of a sudden, a certain question came to mind.

(Come to think of it, if they’re not doing anything shady, then what in the world are those two doing in the basement…?)

For a moment, I felt a sense of unease.

Miss Kate, who had said she ‘still liked me,’

was with Roger, the one who spouted off some nonsense about ‘changing fates’ and whatnot,

and they were in the basement, where a lot of documents concerning ‘Cursed ones’ were abundant, which would mean…

Alfons: …Now that just can’t be. She wouldn’t be so much a fool as to not know when to not give up, would she.

I denied it with my voice, but my chest got more and more filled with that uneasy feeling.

(What if, even after I pushed her away this far, it was already too late?)

(What if she poured even more of her feelings into me, continuing to spend more time with me——?)

Alfons: …Should that time ever come,

A: Perhaps I should simply up and disappear, just like that.

← back next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

NOTE: this is the last his side story i will translate, and the last chapter i will translate concerning alfons main story. thank you for accompanying me so long in this translation, to those who have read it all! it really means a lot to me! i enjoy translating for al lots, and i hope that came through as you were reading overall 🥹🙏

to those who will be reading his route in en, i hope you enjoy what this roller coaster of a route has to offer! theres a lot of complexities woven into his route thats sure give you something to think about. i translated this last chapter to close off the project, putting in my best wishes for you 🫶

i have heard from those who have read what i did for elbies main story that reading my tl has helped enhance their reading experience in en, and i hope this can do the same for you! or if you cant afford the premium stories or dont want to grind for these his side stories, i hope i could provide a way for you to access them more freely. again, thank you to everyone who has supported me, read my tls, interacted with these posts, etc.

its largely thanks to you that i can close this project and look back on it with positive memories! 🪞🤍✨

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia

[traintrainingmontage]

Another interesting thing about Gordon that I like in conjunction with this analysis is that I get the sense that he sees himself as the alpha of the pack or the rep of the class. He feels that it's his job to help make sure the railway runs well, but also to look out for everyone and keep an eye on "his people." As stated here, when big things happen, especially to "his people" and they are no longer in a position where he can look out for them, he feels irritated and upset.

Furthermore, there's several examples in the RWS where Gordon compliments and praises the engines around him. Here are a few that I found super quickly: To James: "You did well with those coaches I hear... good, we'll show [these trucks]!" (James and the Express). To Percy: "Well done Percy, you started so quickly that you stopped a nasty accident" (Percy Runs Away). To Thomas: "You make me laugh. I like that" (Down the Mine).

There's also plenty of instances where Gordon hides his true feelings beneath bluster, such as in Gordon's Whistle, where he complains about Henry's overhaul, but moments later, says that he's glad to have Henry back--as though he realized that he'd maybe not expressed himself well.

It's also clearly stated in Down the Mine that Annie and Clarabel have a "great respect for Gordon the Big Engine." This is interesting, because they hate when Thomas is rude, so they clearly don't see Gordon as rude. But why not?

Tying into what's been explained above, I don't think Gordon is actually that rude or mean. He's arrogant, sure, but it comes from a place of pride in his railway. Honestly, a lot of his nitpicks seem to be because he wants the engines around him to do and be better! And part of his job is helping them get there. (He doesn't always have a leg to stand on [a tender to back him?], but that's beside the point.) It seems to come from a place of care a lot of the time rather than superiority, even if it comes across as being overbearing, arrogant, or condescending. Thus, much of his perceived bad behavior comes from when he just can't help the people he cares about, when "his people" have left either temporarily or for good.

(As a sidenote, I find it interesting how upset he gets when Henry says "Hullo, Fatface!" in Off the Rails. Gordon seems so out of sorts about this, moreso than usual, like if James or Thomas had said it, that I wonder if he's actually a little hurt by the comment. After all, in his mind, he'd worried about and cared about Henry, only to be insulted. This is the same story as mentioned in the analysis above with "Mind you keep on the rails today!" I wonder if this bothered him enough that this was why he threw a hissy fit and decided to cause mischief at the turntable?)

I'm not trying to idealize Gordon here, but I've long thought of Gordon as a "protector" or "guardian" kind of character, so I think this analysis is an especially good one.

Forever and Ever... Even in the 1920s-1960s

Started going down a long digression in the 2+4 essay. Gonna follow this breadcrumb trail over here instead...

One of my arguments is that Gordon actually behaves well and graciously way more often than he is usually given credit for (and starts doing this way earlier than often credited, too).

Along the way, I realized that his spots of bad behavior are not random. When he starts acting all Ass, it's almost always in the period of some sort of major change in his life:

The Three Railway Engines - *waves hand vaguely* all of it -> he's just transferred from the GNR to Sodor

Troublesome Engines - *waves hand again* y'know, all of it -> Thomas moved away :(

Henry the Green Engine - harrumphing about how Henry has let the side down in like three different ways directly after Henry's major reconstructive surgery -> the horrible wreck where Henry, his best friend, could have died, and instead was in hospital the rest of the damn winter

Gordon the Big Engine - "Mind you keep on the rails today!" and then, when he gets pushback, retreating to old friend "boasting" -> is he mother-henning Henry?? he's explicitly referencing the Kipper accident! I would not be too shocked to learn that Gordon gets twinges of unease that he never examines every so often whenever he sees Henry with a train

Percy the Small Engine - "Quack quack quack!" and trying to bully Duck (lol. lmao, even) -> Percy is gonna move away :(

Main Line Engines - getting on his high horse about "Branch Line Diesels" and then getting into a huge spat with Edward that results a brand-new beat-down of a dead horse named "Edward is Weak and Useless" -> We learn in "Wrong Road" that his fireman is new. Presumably his old fireman advanced to fill the role, leaving the vacancy... which means that Gordon recently lost his old driver to retirement.

You might be thinking "well yeah, stressors are stressful, most people's outbreaks of bad behavior have to do with some sort of Big Life Thing" - I certainly thought so, for a mo'. But this isn't true of the other major characters? James's worst behavior in the Wilbert books comes when he is slightly delayed sometimes during his work day and when Toby just, erm… exists. Thomas's worst behavior is because he… doesn't like his snowplough, and has a careless cleaner.

No, only Gordon's poor behavior can so consistently be linked to big changes. Indeed, not many RWS characters have been seen with quite as much of an interior life as we learn Gordon has in "Tenders for Henry." By that point, Gordon has matured enough that he doesn't express his feelings in this emotionally-stupid make-it-everyone's-problem sort of way. But we can see clearly that the end of steam seems to affect him more deeply than anyone else at Tidmouth.

So yeah, I think there's something real and insightful in the above pattern. Once again, my friends - Galloping Sausage with Feelings.

[allofuswantgwinam]

I actually had the worst day I’ve had in awhile now but i survived it

[arthursfuckinghat]

1899 Arthur Morgan, chronically exhausted, ill, afraid, and working himself to death trying to save what was left of the gang.

1911 John Marston, tired, frustrated, and running himself ragged trying to get enough help with taking down the last of the gang.

1914 Jack Marston, alone, depressed, and not stopping for anything or anybody until he avenges his father. He is the only true remaining tie to the gang.

Arthur didn't care strongly for revenge, but it was important to John, then it was important to Jack. Whether they realised it or not, they fed the cycle of revenge and damned themselves in the process.

[brick-van-dyke]

If there's one thing I've respectively noticed from Zionists and defenders of Israeli war crimes, it's that every source, argument and potential avenue to explore each explanation is riddled with cherry picking, moving the goalposts and mental gymnastics to explain why their conclusions, which typically are barely even related to the sources they use, somehow overshadow literal reality and what we see with our own eyes.

While scrolling, one example I came across was the repetitive misrepresentation of BLM, antifa and quotes from Martin Luther King Jr, as well as statistics, scholarly journal articles and government website information. These are all good sources, yet every single time they're mangled completely until the only possible "interpretation" of any of them is "well Israel is right to defend itself after shorting rockets beforehand because the retaliation was brutal and all Arabs are bad by default therefore". As if any of these sources are even about individual exceptions of Israel versus hatred towards Arabs.

I think what I find most absurd, as someone in the middle of their own studies, is how every bit of critical thinking and logic goes out the window as they do every single thing possible to do what professors worldwide say NOT to do when evaluating sources. It's like watching a race to see who can tangle and misconstrue scientific information to fit their world view the fastest. Then said people say "um actually I studied at university before so it's actually not wrong that I'm doing this exact this everyone is warned not to do because I have a permit". Ignorance I can forgive, but willful and arrogant manipulation? That's another thing entirely.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[caterjunes]

i know my body is doing its best but christ alive.

[broke-on-books]

Best thing about being a Scooby Doo fan: you can meet some of the nicest people with some really cool ideas and hcs, there's such an abiding love for the franchise, which on its own is just AMAZING, such a wealth of content to dive into, and I haven't even gotten into the fan REDESIGNS and aus and-

Worst thing about being a Scooby Doo fan: people irl in public will come up to you with some of the worst Scooby takes ever (Scrappy found dead in Miami, SDMI revolutionized animation, etc.) and you have to restrain yourself from getting into a fistfight with some rando acquaintance/friend-of-a-friend in public ALL THE TIME 💀