#also thinking about how they prefer to release the show during the season the show is set

[its-cartooncrazy]

Okay i finished my dunmeshi reread where I was trying to predict which chapters will go into which episodes for season 2 (assuming 24 episodes)

I made some questionable splits towards the end tbh but I ended up with 24 without pushing too hard so. I guess I'll write down my thoughts here mostly so when season 2 comes I can compare them

So I'm gonna add my screenshots from my notes page so I'll explain that the yellow numbers was me guessing from chapter titles and my poor memory, and the pink is from my reread and focusing on content.

I started by looking at season 1 and how they split stuff up. Every episode was two chapters, save for a few that either didn't need full episodes, or were a lot of action which takes up more space in comics. (I don't know where exactly the dragon chapters split, but the 7 dragon chapters + good medicine were 3 episodes, so that makes 2 episodes of 3 chapters there.) They also preferred to keep 2 part chapters in one episode, but also didn't shy away from doing it either.

Theres only enough chapters left for 22.5 episodes at a rate of 2 chapters per episode, so we actually never have to group three chapters into a single episode again!

That being said...

On Floor One features would be a banger season opener. It features a couple of fight scenes, so it shouldn't be too long. I wouldn't want to split it into two episodes anyway because for a season opener, I wouldn't want to be away from the main cast for too long.

(It also, oddly enough, cuts back to our cast and gives them little name badges, which is a joke about the changelings, but also its very fitting to reintroduce our characters in their first appearance in season 2)

Bicorn / Stewed Head go together very easily, as do Succubus 1 + 2

Jumping ahead a little, roasted walking mushroom and 6 days would fit together nicely, especially with the Winged Lion taking place during the Succubus chapters, but. I don't wanna squeeze that in with them...

I think if trigger do their thing, 6 days could be an episode all on its own (and it could be one of the best episodes, too) And hey, if they need more content then there's a couple of monster tidbits extras that take place here that they could add!

Confit was the problem child. I wanted Rabbit and Curry to get their own episodes, but I also wanted 6 days to stay alone, which left confit alone. It features a fair bit of important stuff: reaching thistles house, cleaning up, finding the book (and opening it I think), and eating the phoenix, so I wouldn't feel right cramming it with something else.

So I ignored it for the time being, to see if Rabbit and Curry could be split in half.

Confit would lead well into rabbit 1, with them arriving at the house and having a meal, and then rabbit 1 takes place shortly after the meal. Rabbit 1 ends with laios getting got by a rabbit. That seems like a pretty fun cliffhanger to be honest. Rabbit 2 ends with them comforting marcille, and then curry 1 cuts away to several scenes viewed through the eyes of the mage, ending with them showing up at the house. And then...

Grouping curry 2 and thistle 1 together is kinda evil actually. Sibling flashback scene, that fight, and then thistle backstory?? Yikes. I love it actually. So yeah I'll go with that.

Thistle 2 and 3 feature the dragon fight (placing the teaser at a predicted episode 9) and then thistle 4 and 5 include the chat with laios, the lion eating thistles desires, and then the wrap up meal. I'm pretty satisfied with that if a little disappointed we don't end an episode with laios in the plant

Bavarois and whatchamacallit are both the canaries' interrogation so thats easy, ending with a cliffhanger of sorts where the lion is fully released by marcille.

Lord of the Dungeon 1 and 2 are both pretty full chapters. It continues the fight with the canaries, which unfortunately features a lot of talking still, and then the aftermath with our group waking up to a room of unconscious canaries and spider guts like that one community gif.

Dungeon 1 is actually a shorter chapter. Putting these two together would possibly make for a kinda sparse episode. So, we have a full episode and an empty episode. Can we borrow a scene from lord of the dungeon to even it out? No! Because almost all of Lord of the Dungeon 2 is kabrus epic fumble, which isn't a scene that can be cut up neatly. Let's set those aside for a bit and see if the solution comes from the next few.

We have three single chapters before our next grouping, which doesn't split nicely into 2s like I want it to. Unfortunately, none of these are particularly short, and we're past the point in the series where we can skimp on the details. Parasites starts with a shortish scene with marcille and frozen falin, so I wondered about giving that to dungeon, if I could group the three together with slightly less content, but I think there's still probably too much content to get through with those three chapters even without that scene. (Not to mention, I don't think season one ever split any part of a chapter between episodes, so I'm reluctant)

Honestly, I thought for a long time about how to arrange these chapters and never came to a conclusion, so I just moved on for a bit, to see if answers were in the next section. (Spoiler alert: they were!)

Marcille 1 is kind of a misnomer (if I know what that word means) since it doesn't actually focus on marcille at all, and instead shows people around the world reacting to the dungeons opening. I don't feel as bad separating it from the rest of marcille in that case. (It's also a short chapter but local cuisine has a fair bit in it so I think that won't matter)

So to sum up the last section before we move fully into the marcilles, we have Lord of the Dungeon, Dungeon, Parasites/Food Chain and Local Cuisine/Marcille 1. Phew, that was a lot of effort just to end up splitting them into pairs of chapters. (Dungeon may still borrow from parasites, but that's up to them. Yknow, if they were still looking at how to split them up in this stage of production or whatever XD)

Marcille 4 ends with the group hug and, as sad as I am to not get a week to sit with that scene, it wouldn't work as well as an episode ending during the big finale battle segment, so pairing it with Winged Lion 1 (mostly chatting up on that tower, concluding with them getting gobbled up by the monster pile lion) works pretty well and gives a good cliffhanger.

Winged Lion 2 and 3 gives us Lion backstory, and then laios becoming dungeon master, ending with him plopping his head back on like its nothing. Lmao I can't wait to see what the outtro is for this episode.

Winged Lion 4 is short, actually, and with the action of Winged Lion 5, that episode might be a bit sparse. But, well. Iunno I figured it's fine? Look, I started to give up and make weird decisions around this point. Winged Lion 5 ends with everyone freezing and then laios picking up "laios".

Winged Lion 6 I gave its own episode. It doesn't have enough content for that, to be honest, but I gotta put some single chapter episodes in here somewhere and where better than laios eating laios and laios and laios and laios and then the winged Lions desire to eat desires. Idk I said I gave up, didn't I?

Starting here, I start to worry about momentum. How long can you keep people interested after the Big Bad has been defeated? Def-eat-ed lol

The Island I also gave its own episode, just 'cause, I guess. It features the action packed escape from the dungeon, everyone washing up safe and sound, and then searching for laios, ending with a nice hug. I didnt seem to take my own advice tbh, that ending doesn't really force you to keep watching. Hm.

Falin 1 and 2 gives us everyone pitching in to prepare to eat laios sister, and also mithrun 🥺, but much like the last episode, doesn't end on too captivating a note (although it is a very good scene, it just doesn't lead in to the next episode so much) so I guess I really didn't take my own advice much. I swear I took this into consideration while I was reading but I guess I gave up lol

Falin 3 is the izutsumi show, where she asks everyone what they're gonna do now (not cooking, I mean in life!!) and ive put this one by itself because there are plenty of scenes that could be expanded upon, and also izu deserves a whole episode to think about her character development because she is the best and I love her.

This also lets us group falin 4 and dungeon meshi for the season finale. Another reason I wanted falin 4 to go in this arrangement is that this is where laios becomes king, which really just screams "finale" for me. We also get falin waking up, and a sweet epilogue of laios' fantastic reign, plus him being good with kids <3

So uhhh. Yeah. That's how I would split up the chapters. Quick recap/summary to make it clear hopefully:

1: 53,54,55

2: 56,57

3: 58,59

4: 60,61

5: 62

6: 63,64

7: 65,66

8: 67,68

9: 69,70

10: 71,72

11: 73,74

12: 75,76

13: 77,78

14: 79,80

15: 81,82

16: 83,84

17: 85,86

18: 87,88

19: 89,90

20: 91

21: 92

22: 93,94

23: 95

24: 96,97

That was a lot of waffling to end up with mostly just two chapters per episode tbh. If you've made it all the way, I hope you don't consider your time wasted lol. Looking forward to seeing how trigger does it!

[chirpsythismorning]

When the interviewer asked when we should expect s5 to be coming out, that’s when Shawn mentioned that a little bit of an answer to that might be out there soon.

He actually mentions that this answer could be out by the time the video for this interview comes out, and since this interview was filmed mid-May and it’s now mid-June, I’m assuming we could be getting something soon or within the next couple months, potentially about a release date aka possibly a small teaser with 2025 stamped at the end…

[shegetsburned]

Since you like Kusakabe, could you share some hcs for us Kusakabe fans 🥺🥺

making my pathetic heart full with this request, i absolutely can <3 this is basically what i could think of in the moment, I'd also love to see some hcs from you anon!

꒰ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙠𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 ꒱

man has back problems. he’s stretching and massaging his shoulders often to release the pain. i guess it’s carrying all that stress during missions or something.

i just know this man is always so unlucky. he wanted to avoid by any means necessary dangerous sorcerers/curses in shibuya and just happened to find himself beside none other than the king of curses. and he curses under his breath every time something like this happens.

i’m sure he rethought all his life choices as soon as sukuna showed up too.

like i already mentioned; enormous forearms due to his sword training. and they’re hairy too just how I like it

he’s like a dad who’s stuck with kids and doesn’t want to endorse these responsibilities but is so good with them nonetheless. like how he teaches stuff almost better than satoru so that the students understand.

so basically, the kind of teacher that doesn’t give a fuck but that all the students like.

he’s the type to say "fuck this job." then go to work every day.

kusakabe’s so grumpy bro. he’d answer your every question but look so done with you while doing it.

he snorts when he sleeps.

he has a whole ass collection of lures that he keeps hidden at home.

prefers to text than call and there are never any emojis nor traces of joy. he’ll never forget the coma too.

kusakabe’s determined to look presentable every day before work. not that he takes a lot of time to prepare. it’s more that he insists on wearing his usual black blazer and coat which makes him look more professional.

to go on about appearances, he shaves his beard every day and it’s so clean too. i mean, have you seen his perfect sideburns?

also, he’d just ruffle his hair and go on about his day, not other care needed and he looks so hot nevertheless

often mumbles "why the fuck am i here?"

prefers winter over all other seasons.

i feel like he’s also pretty healthy, i mean he has stopped smoking and i know he eats basic but healthy stuff most of the time.

has one favourite type of lollipop and doesn’t want to experiment with other flavours.

i’m sorry but his jawline? UGH.

𝙖/𝙣 : definitely going to do some for hcs for him as your man so never worry about the lack of content for him sweet anon, i gotcha. also i’m obsessed with him and will never stop being annoying so please be annoying with me kusakabe lovers.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: The Announcement

Still here! - 6x13 "Mixed Feelings"

I've posted several times about how 6x13 was the finale for me since the rest of the season COULD AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN YEETED TO THE SUN AND OBLITERATED but I digress.

The video above includes two scenes, one from 6x9 "Red Flag" and the other from 6x13 "Mixed Feelings". I've combined them to illustrate how they might be related. When Buck joined the team while they were sitting on the rooftop in 6x9, Eddie asked him, "Would you prefer an announcement?" and Buck replied, "Uh... I would" with the first scene from 6x13 when Bobby said, "Over here guys" because it seems like these were subtexts for the announcement of Buck & Eddie.

I've already completed two posts; one for 6x8 regarding the comment Buck made about "Raining Men" (linked here) and one that includes all six scenes of Buck and Eddie, Buck and Chris and the Buckley-Diaz Family for 6x13 (linked here). Also, I've mentioned before how I've watched 6x13 numerous times and each time I've watched it, I've noticed something new. The last time it was Bobby's comment of "Over here guys" that caught my attention because it reminded me of Eddie's question to Buck in 6x9 about if he wanted an announcement that prompted this post. It appears it may have been included as part of "the announcement" for Buck and Eddie too in addition to the "Raining Men" subtext that was included in 6x8, 6x9, 6x10 and 6x13.

Some may be asking, why is this important?

Well... it's important because IIRC, Buck and Eddie have NEVER entered the scene of a call LATE when they were with the 118. The entire team arrives at scenes together, they always have. The only time Buck and Eddie showed up to a call "late" or "just in time" was in 4x13 "Suspicion" but reminder, Buck wasn't in uniform and the 118 wasn't there since Eddie called it in and the 133 was dispatched 👀. Therefore, that scene was eliminated from this analysis.

Also, Captain Mehta was in 6x13 too (exactly two years later following the shooting - detailed post about Captain Mehta in 6x13 linked here) and I've been wondering why he was there if all they wanted him to do was play poker.

I've never believed that was it because reminder, Captain Shore was the 133's captain in 5x16 "May Day" and if the show wasn't trying to tell the audience something, she would have been at the poker table with Chief Williams (another person the audience hadn't seen since season 2 during the earthquake).

Eddie's and Buck's "late" arrival prompted A LOT of unanswered questions for me and I've listed some of them below.

Why were they late?

Where the heck were they?

Were they together? (Since they entered together, I think they were.)

What were they doing? 👀👀

Why didn't they enter the scene with everyone else?

Did Bobby know where they were?

If so, why didn't he call for them sooner?

Is it possible the way Bobby called them along with the way they entered the gym was the announcement about them becoming a romantic couple?

Based on the way season 6 ended, it seemed like the "RUSHED" and messy bridge collapse wasn't supposed to end the way it did and I've often wondered why Bobby was underneath the rubble instead of SOMEONE ELSE (based on the first set of BTS pics that were released, I have an idea of who it should have been but for some reason, it was all changed. Goodbye FOX network and hello ABC) especially since Bobby was trapped under Metro Dispatch's roof in 5x16. The storyline shouldn't have been for him because the team had already worked to get him out of the rubble in season 5 and it was significant then but not so much at the end of season 6. None of the rest of the season made any narrative sense and it's possible it never will if they continue the mixed up and forced narrative they threw in at the last minute for season 7.

It would have been easier if 9-1-1 would have just told the audience what they wanted them to know instead of expecting people to do mental gymnastics to figure things out but... anyway. Was Buck's and Eddie's entrance in 6x13 part of "the announcement" regarding them becoming a CANON couple? Only the showrunner(s), writers and producers know the answer to that question and HOPEFULLY it will be answered in season 7.

[celestial-specter]

So I finally got around to watching the first three episodes of the final season, and I’ve got to say, I’m very intrigued by the addition of the three clone cadets! Most of my interest comes from their names- and since I haven’t seen anyone else discuss them yet, I thought I’d throw my own thoughts out there.

As we have seen in many star wars projects over the years, character names seem to be overwhelming literal, either revealing elements of their background, or foreshadowing their future (think how in Rebels, Kanan means ‘little wolf’, while his true name, Caleb, means ‘dog’, foreshadowing his link to the Loth wolves.)

Of course, we know that the clones either name themselves or have the name bestowed on them by their brothers (think of Echo getting his name). The trio of clones that we meet in Paths Unknown are named Deke, Stak, and Mox. There hasn’t been much information released regarding at what age clones typically receive their names, however in the Clone Wars episode Clone Cadets, we see Cutup take his name from a trainer who criticizes him for his attitude. As that episode focuses on Domino squad’s final training simulation before graduation, and that they all appear to be fully grown adult clones, it can be assumed that they are all around ten years old, the same age of most clones sent to war. Given that we see Cutup choose his name during this episode, and that Echo is struggling with his nickname and remembering Fives’ name, it suggests that Domino squad had only recently begun thinking about what name they would choose for themselves.

While we haven’t been given a definitive age for Deke, Stak and Mox they are all still clearly children. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t even have names by the time they were taken off Kamino, and had to create names for each other while trying to survive on the planet they were stranded on.

To begin with Mox, his is the name I could find the least amount of reference for. There seems to be three possible interpretations:

Mox is a type of fuel designed for use in nuclear reactors.

Mox is a shortened version of moxie, meaning ‘energy, courage, and determination.’

Mox is the Latin word for ‘soon.’

I’m not overly drawn to the first idea, but I can understand the second - as Mox is clearly the eldest and protective over his younger brothers, I can see him taking a name which shows that side of his personality. I also see Mox as a direct parallel of Hunter; both are the eldest brothers of their respective groups, and are both incredibly wary of outsiders due to their need to keep their brothers safe.

However, I much prefer the third choice. The idea that Mox’s name means ‘soon’ can have both good and bad implications. For starters, Mox is clearly the most emotionally conflicted throughout the episode, unsure of his place on the mission, and of his place once they leave the planet. Hunter assures him that he has time to consider being something other than a soldier, and Mox offers his hand to Hunter. This action could be foreshadowing that soon, Hunter himself will be able to retire from this lifestyle, by finding Omega and Crosshair. Alternatively, Mox’s name meaning soon could be a very bad omen for the batch, as it could foreshadow the clone cadets being used as leverage against them (I’m thinking this could come into play when the empire attacks Pabu if the cadets are there).

Moving on, the word Deke was originally coined by Hemingway as a shortened form of the word decoy. We do not see him act as a decoy in any way during this episode, so I believe it is solely to foreshadow future events. Considering the many parallels drawn between Deke and Tech during this episode (e.g. Stak dubbing Deke ‘the smart one’ and Deke almost falling to his death in the base) his name meaning decoy only makes me more convinced that Tech is still around in some capacity (even if that capacity is just his body being used for cloning experiments).

Finally, Stak is most commonly considered to be an old version of the word stick, which makes sense when you consider the basic stick-based weapons that the cadets carry, and Wrecker’s first words to Stak and Deke when he meets them: ‘Blaster beats stick, kid!’ Knowing that the Star Wars writers love foreshadowing, this comment has me thinking things might not end so well for Stak. Interestingly, another link I found while researching this is that Stak is a common phrase in the Rogue Trooper series, in which a war is fought between facist Norts and democratic Southers (you can already see the obvious parallels to Star Wars here). In the series, in an attempt to win the war, the Southers create genetically engineered soldiers, but only one, known as Rogue, survives. Even more links involve one of the main stories of this series being titled ‘The Marauders’, and each one of the genetically engineered soldiers having a bio-chip in their body. While not a direct link, these coincidences do make me think there is a direct link between the two medias, it is possible that there is a fan of the Rogue Trooper series within the team behind The Bad Batch.

Either way, I’m very happy to finally be getting some explanation into what happened to the young clones who never saw the battlefield during the clone wars - though I am a little concerned that their worth being tied to their unexplored identity as soldiers could lead to them taking risks in further episodes in the hopes of proving themselves.

[thegoldheartlocketandkey-blog]

911 Spoilers Season 2: You’ve been warned. 😅

Episode 11-14

Episode 11

• This mostly an Athena and Maddie episode. Honestly one of my favorite episodes. So, much Drama and we sadly get to meet Doug. We technically don’t know he’s Doug, but early on we as a viewer know, the vibes are off.

• Buck is helping Maddie, teaching her self defense. Brother sister bonding time, we learn Buck is dating Ally, but she’s in NY. Maddie pokes fun at all of Buck’s Girlfriends leaving.

• During the Shark rescue, Buck and Eddie standing near each other. Buck is extremely excited about the shark being released back into the ocean. Bobbie and Eddie standing near each other happy admiring the scene.

• Maddie asks Chimney out on a real date. The 118 standing watching this happen from the second floor and proceeds to cheer/taunt Chimney as Maddie leaves. Eddie and Buck standing near each other. Eddie being extra silly.

Episode 12

• Chimney begins. Great episode! Timing wise is tragic, because of the cliffhanger in previous episode. Still amazing.

• No Buddie.

Episode 13

• Buck finds Chim stabbed on ground, realizes Maddie has gone missing.

• Eddie goes to the hospital, is there for Chimney.

• Buck is helping in the way Buck knows how to in trying to track down Maddie. Buck stealing crime scene evidence, Chim’s Phone, out of desperation in trying to find his sister.

• Buck getting caught stealing Chimney’s phone, Eddie criticizing Buck, but ultimately understanding why he did it.

• Eddie attempts to comfort Buck.

• Athena takes Buck with her to further investigate and find Maddie.

• Hen, Bobby, and Eddie stay at the hospital waiting for Chimney to wake up.

• Eddie meets Michael.

This is not a Buddie episode but seeing how everyone reacts to Maddie’s situation with Doug. This episode really show cases how the 118 is a family, and how close they all have become. The fact that even Christopher was at the hospital waiting for Chimney. Shannon was also there and was trying to comfort Eddie. It might be my own delusion but it seemed like Eddie would have preferred her not to be there.

Over all super emotional episode. Maddie is experiencing something so incredibly traumatizing and the people around her that care so deeply for her, are experiencing a trauma along side to her. In a way show casing the people that will always be there.

Episode 14

• Eddie and Buck being apart of Bobby’s presentation for Harry’s class.

• Buck and Eddie sitting next to each other on the Engine when having to patrol LA.

• Baby birth emergency where the mom experiences complications after giving birth. The moment when everyone thinks mom is dead, Eddie spechieally looks over at Buck.

• We get this iconic GIF Moment

• Buck falls off ladder truck trying to save kid, Eddie is on the ground watching Buck closely.

• Eddie scales the building to save the child. Buck is overly concerned over Eddie’s safety, but acknowledges that he would be yelled at if he attempted the same stunt.

• Eddie saves kid, but is trapped in the burning building. Low on oxygen. Buck is outside, freaking out, wanting to charge into the burning building.

I understand Buck is always willing to do the risky saves for just about anyone, and is always putting his life at risk. But this knowledge isn’t inherent, we don’t really understand Buck’s suicidal tendencies until season 4 honestly. We can make assumptions, but nothing is really concrete until we meet the parents. So if you’ve only watched up to season 2, you can safely assume Buck’s eagerness to get in there is tied to it being Eddie. But in all honesty, I know Buck would have the same eagerness if it was Hen or Bobby. This specific moment is simply just an analysis on who Buck is as a person.

• Buck runs towards Eddie and makes fun of Eddie’s spiderman stunt. Obviously was worried and now relieved, this is Buck’s attempt at masking those emotions with humor.

[heliads]

Hey again! Got another idea 👀👀 But could I request a Clove Kentwell x past victor reader (won very young) who lives in the capitol? Reader is good friends with Enobaria and Brutus and decides to check in with the tributes/mentors of that years game to see what's up and to give some tips and tricks. Immediately she hit's it off with the other careers other then Clove (who likes her but has no idea how to go about it), they accidently meet on the balcony and start to warm up with each other (R gives Clove a token since she didn't get one). Later on R watches the games with the mentors and not so secretly cheers on Clove (defo get's her sponsor packages). Clove wins and they reunite, with clove making the first move after realizing her feelings during the game. Thank you, and I hope this isn't too long!

'lessons worth learning' - clove kentwell

masterlist

The Hunger Games is always your least favorite time to return to the Capitol. As if any of the other opportunities are good, though; you can be trotted around like a prize pony, gawked at as a Mentor, or called up out of the blue to reminisce on the good old days when you won your Games and were lucky enough to have the lovely experience of murdering children who had done no wrong other than the simple misfortune of having their name pulled from a bowl.

The Games are worse, though. You stand on a balcony, knuckles tight like bone around the railing. Below you, two dozen children ripe for the slaughter mill around, testing weapons and receiving instruction from their mentors. You’re here for mentorship duties yourself, having won your Games a couple of years back and thus entitling you to spend the rest of your life watching other tributes attempt to do the same or die trying.

Some would call it a blessing. Sometimes, though, you envy the dead back in your Games. Their lives, although ended early, are theirs, and theirs alone. They won’t have to live forever as a poster child of the Capitol, an example of what District can amount to if they just try. That isn’t to say that you wish you had died in the Games– you are a fighter, always have been, and you’d rather bleed a thousand times than give up– but you do wish that you could have won without having to be a puppet for all the Games afterwards.

All the Victors know the feeling. You ache like a dog on a leash, all of you, having trained all your lives to win the Games if you were Careers or at least dreaded them your entire childhood, but upon doing the one task set before you, every pretense of independence was ripped away. What was once a prize mastiff or foxhound is now a muzzled lapdog, dolled up every season of the Games before being shut up in the Districts once the fun is over.

The first year of your Victorhood, you could hardly handle it. Everything was switched around. The jokes weren’t funny, and what was worth laughing at could cost your head. The food was too much and the clothes were too little. It was like living in a backwards world, one where one false step would bring destruction to you and your family.

Thankfully, you had your other Victors to help you. Enobaria and Brutus, also from your home district of Two, walked you through the gilded trials of a successful Victor, and in turn, you mentor the next sets of tributes to be sent your way. You won your Games young, surprisingly young, so Brutus and Enobaria tend to be the ones selected for primary Mentorship. 

Turns out most tributes prefer to be taught by actual adults, thinking them more experienced and a better shot at their own survival. That’s fine by you, by all accounts; the more time out of the limelight, the better. You’re still required to show up to the Capitol, being the youngest Victor in quite a while means you’ll never fully be released from the Capitol’s fascination, but you can be a quiet darling in the shadows any time you like. If there’s one thing the years have taught you, it’s that it is far, far better to be the dusty doll left behind in the toy chest than the one out on display.

This time around, however, Brutus and Enobaria called you up to give the tributes some advice. District Two hasn’t won a round of the Games since– well, since you, and that was more than a couple of years ago. Since you’re the most recent Two victor, you’ll have valuable insights to provide. Supposedly.

Thus, you find yourself leaning against this balcony, watching the tributes prepare themselves to die. There’s a good amount of competition amongst the Reaped ones this year, it’ll be a tough fight. You don’t envy anyone down there for the task they’ll have to face. Both the tributes from One look formidable, plus a good crop of others from a smattering of districts. Of course, your fellow tributes from Two look strong too, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Then again, the girl from Two this year, a certain Clove Kentwell, does seem to be impressing everyone in her path. She’s about your age, and you probably would have seen her around Two more often were it not for the fact that you’re more fond of suppressing memories in the Victor’s Village than training for the Games you’ll never have to enter again. She seems clever, which is a good thing. Clever girls can get themselves out of deadly loopholes. You can speak to that through past experience.

She’s watching you now, actually. It’s no surprise. Clove has been keeping her eyes on you since the moment she was Reaped. At this point, the quiet weight of her gaze on your shoulders has grown comfortable, more like a woolen cloak than a knife in your back. It’s not a hostile gaze either, this, just painstakingly present. Clove doesn’t mind it if you catch her looking. She’s not the type to glance away first. Good. Anything to keep weakness off her shoulders.

Clove’s fingers tap absentmindedly on her legs, then she seems to make a decision and walks up to talk to you. Your eyes flash to the Peacekeepers stationed at the exits, but they don’t flinch. Still, you have no doubt that they’re watching. It’s fine if the tributes want to talk to the Mentors, but you can’t give them any weapons, nor any advantage at all other than a few good pieces of advice. There’s only so far advice will go anyway, but you might as well offer up what you have. At least then you won’t leave this round of the Games as you do every other:  wondering if what you’d done was enough, and then trying to scrub another set of two young names out of your brain for another year in a row.

Clove reaches the top of the balcony and folds her arms across her chest, eyeing you down like you’re another tribute. It’s a mistake that’s been made before, actually. You’re awfully young for a Mentor, but then again, you were awfully young for a Victor as well.

“So, you’re supposed to be helping me win these things?” She asks daringly.

You nod. “You and your fellow tribute.”

Clove knows this, of course. She’s testing the waters, searching for some kind of reaction. You’re not sure what she wants, but she’ll probably convince herself of it soon enough anyway. Better not to get involved. Better not to get attached. You know how this ends, don’t you? You know better than to enjoy someone’s company if you know they’re going to die.

“You won a few years ago, didn’t you? You were the young one they couldn’t stop talking about?” Clove asks.

You force a smile. It’s as cold and disinterested as you can make it. “That’s me. Although I would have assumed your plan for winning the Games wouldn’t involve rattling off exciting facts about mine.”

“Isn’t it your job to share details about your Games so you can give me a strategy to win mine?” Clove snips at you. She’s fiery. Like you, when you dare to let your spark grow out of the stifling embrace of the Capitol.

“No two Games are the same,” you shoot back. “It’s a better use of your time and mine to consider the current situation instead of mulling over the past. The only things you should think about right now are the present and the immediate future. The next few weeks are your entire life. The past can rot with the rest of the tributes who died because they failed to plan properly.”

Clove whistles. “Charming. Did Brutus and Enobaria bring you here because of your knack for motivational speeches?”

Your grin is bitter. “That, and they knew I wouldn’t coddle you. These are the Hunger Games, Clove. Realism is all you have.”

“Because the Hunger Games are all that will matter in my life?” Clove asks, tone acidic. “Funny, I didn’t think the youngest Victor would have agreed with that.”

“I don’t,” you answer her. “It’s because you’re going to win the Games, and then you’re going to go home, and none of it will have mattered at all.”

Clove pulls a face, disbelieving. “Of course. Winning the Hunger Games won’t mean a single thing in Two. That makes perfect sense.”

“It won’t matter,” you insist, “Sure, it will, for a couple of days. Then you’ll be in Victor’s Village with the rest of District Two’s idols and you’ll blend right in. For months afterwards, you will be flush with victory, knowing you’ve done this spectacular thing, and no one will even care. It’ll be all you can think about, and no one will know. This is the Hunger Games, Clove Kentwell. They matter to you because you’re in them, but once everyone else knows their name won’t be pulled, it’s nothing to them.”

Clove’s eyes have gone quiet. “They’ll have to remember, though. Every year, when they make us do the Victory Tour or go back to the Capitol.”

“Sure, sure,” you say listlessly. “You’ll be one of the Victors. But they’ll forget what year you won, or what you did to deserve it. After a while, they won’t be able to remember if you were the sibling of a Victor, or the lover, or a friend. What do you think happened to me, huh? When you came in here, you didn’t even know my name, and I won just a couple of years ago. Face it, Clove. It all ends after this.”

Clove is silent for a while, and when she speaks again, her voice is quiet and wooden. “So how do I fight that? How do I be someone they’ll remember?”

You chuckle bitterly. “You can’t.”

Clove’s face flashes with irritation. “Then why are you here, huh? I thought Mentors were supposed to help us. Is your job just to depress us and then leave? Whose side are you really on?”

She’s started moving towards you with every word, inching forward threateningly. You don’t back down or move a muscle, and when you’re both eye to eye, barely a few inches apart, close enough to see how her chest rises and falls with the brunt of her anger, you bite out at last, “Yours.”

“I don’t believe you,” Clove hisses back.

You smirk. It’s not a nice thing to see. The Capitol has stripped the warmth from your emotions, leaving only blank ghosts of what were once shiny, vivid expressions. “You don’t have to. Look around you. You are in the Capitol. Look at how everyone here looks at you.”

You put your hand on Clove’s cheekbone, forcing her to turn around. You can see it in her expression as she gets what you’re saying, how her eyes harden even more, how she shifts back away from everyone else and towards you again. This, after all, is what it means to be a tribute. The Capitol citizens eye you like a piece of meat, the other competitors stare you down like a hawk who’s caught onto its prey. There are no friendly faces here, just territorial or greedy or both.

“So you’re the better option,” Clove murmurs.

“That’s one way of putting it,” you admit. “I know how it feels to be out there. Alone, despite your Mentors.”

“And you wanted to make sure I felt that, too?” Clove asks, somewhat bemused.

You shake your head. “I wanted you to feel the opposite.”

Clove considers this, then looks back at you again. The hostility is gone from her eyes, replaced with curiosity. “I think I do,” she says.

“Good,” you tell her. “Now we can work together on how to make you win this.”

After that, Clove is focused, her simmering rage honed to a knifepoint’s sharpness. She finds precise techniques to master and practices them over and over again until she’s sure of herself. Those skills that she’s unfamiliar with, she gains a bare capability. She doesn’t need to be good at everything, just not bad at anything. It’s far harder than it sounds, but Clove is all too willing a pupil.

Enobaria finds you later that night. She’s mulling over a drink, and you’re watching the recordings of the tributes’ daily trainings over again so you can spot any weaknesses or potential allies. “The girl seems to be taking to your lessons,” she notes. Her sharpened teeth flash in the low light of the room.

You keep your eyes on the screen ahead of you. “Clove is a proper Career. She makes our district proud. She’s had a lifetime of lessons, and not just mine.”

“Clove?” Enobaria asks, eyebrow arched as she calls out the first name basis. “Getting along quite nicely, aren’t you?”

You elect not to comment, instead focusing on the image of Clove’s form on the recording as she practices with her knives. Enobaria shakes her head, chuckling softly in a manner not too far removed from a jackal when it sights its prey. “I thought you knew better than to get attached to tributes, Y/N. You know Mentors should never fixate on those that will likely end up dead.”

“Of course,” you answer her. “And when you were mentoring me, you never did anything of the sort, right?”

With that comment, you finally look up at her, grinning slightly. Enobaria barks out a laugh, knowing full well that she’d seen you as a sister while you were training. “Get some rest,” she tells you at last. “Your Clove needs you to be functional.”

Your Clove. You can’t deny that you like the ring of it. Enobaria is right to warn you to keep your emotional guard up, though. Soon enough, the week of training is up, and then the tributes are receiving their last words of advice from their Mentors before being sent to the Arena.

You meet with Clove one final time, relating the last bits of information, though the last thing you say to her isn’t practical guidance but a raw, naked hope that she will survive. She promises you she’ll win. You’ve heard many such promises, but for the first time, you believe it.

Then she’s gone, and you are alone with only the other Mentors and Victors to guide you. There’s not a moment to waste, though. Clove has hardly vanished from your sight before you’re racing back up to the viewing stations, where you fling yourself wholeheartedly into the masterful game of winning over sponsors. If Clove has to be out there, fighting for her life, you’ll make sure she’s doing so with the best weapons, medicine, and food that you can bring her.

It’s a terrible thing, sending a friend to die. Worse still when Clove was the first tribute you let through your walls in a very long time. You spent a while winning her over with your experience as a tribute, but Clove won you over too. You watch her as much as you dare, your brave girl, cheering whenever she survives a tricky situation and engulfed in fear whenever she’s in trouble.

At the end of a couple of the longest weeks of your life, though, Clove emerges victorious, the final cannon blast signaling the end of her trials. You swear that you were more stressed during the showdown of the last two tributes than during your own Games, although surely that would be impossible. Clove is brought back from the Arena and immediately checked into the medical wing to handle several injuries from the final fight.

Once visitors are allowed, though, you’re the first one through that door. Clove is in your arms at once. Her eyes are bright upon seeing you, but there’s a shadow that wasn’t there before. She’s a Victor now. It’s not all grand and glorious celebrations. Once the euphoria of still being alive wears off, Clove will have to walk the longer and harder path, the one that doesn’t let you go after a matter of weeks. The memories of this torment will stick with her forever, and the nightmares don’t ease up just because you get older.

Clove will have you, though. Always. You promise her this now, and have just enough time to see the rush of relief in her expression before you’re separated again. Clove will have to be made over by her team so she can be crowned Victor in front of the Capitol. They’ll make her talk about the kills and the narrow escapes, but then she can leave, and so can you.

You watch her from the audience during the interview, then meet her backstage afterwards. She pulls you into a dark corridor behind the grand mess of stylists and Capitol citizens. There are many annexes and mouse holes in the mansions of the Capitol, small places to be alone if you only know where to look.

“You were stunning,” you tell her honestly.

“It’s over now,” she says dazedly. “Isn’t it?”

“It is,” you confirm. “You’ll go home. You’ll recover. They’ll drag a few more appearances out of you, but it’s over. You won.”

“I don’t know how to handle this part,” she confesses. “I don’t know how to be a Victor. Will you show me?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “You’ll be perfect at it, just like you were in the Games. You earned that crown, Clove. Be happy. As happy as you can.”

Clove’s eyes shine, rivaling the low glow of the Victor’s crown nestled in her dark curls. Out of some impulse, she reaches up and plucks the gold circlet from her temples before placing it on your head instead. Her hand lingers near your face, dropping slowly from your forehead to your cheek, where her fingers remain, soft against your skin. These are the hands that are responsible for twenty-three dead tributes, and your mouth is the one who taught her how to do it. Still, when it is just the two of you in the quiet dark, you would swear that you and Clove have only ever done good things; pure, too, like falling in love with a girl who grew up loving you, like finding someone to guide through death itself and ensuring that she would walk out the other side.

“I remember that from your Games,” she says dazedly. “You looked good with the crown.”

You laugh quietly. “If that’s all you remembered about my Games, I would be happy.”

Clove’s eyes are dark and large. Falling into them is easy, you don’t think you could escape if you tried. What a sweet way to drown. “If this is all I remember about mine, I would be happy, too.”

You take her hands in the dark. “I’ll help you forget if you help me.”

“Together,” Clove says. “Promise it.”

“Together,” you swear. “Always.” There is no such thing as always, not in the Capitol. Not in this hopeless city, not in this starving country. For a moment, though, for two girls away from the prying eyes of the world, it exists as a bond between the two of them, drawing them inexplicably and permanently together. It’s an oath of blood and gold, a crown that soothes and cuts to the core. Nothing is good here, not in Panem, but you will have Clove, and you will have her always.

requested by @beepboopnel-deactivated20240128, i hope you enjoy!

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[alwida10]

Do you think there is astroturfing around disney properties?

When Ant-man 3 was release, everyone was shitting on the movie but praised Jonathan Majors's performance but after the conviction I keep seeing statements like 'his acting was clownish', 'he was the worst part of Loki' etc.

You know since the recent poll about Loki, as of now 57.3% has passed on him,even after release of season 2 which was trending for a while got me thinking . Like, what happened ? Wasn't it the most watched show?

I really hated what happened to him so much that seeing him makes me eyeroll. My favourite MCU character ruined since ragnorak.

If Tom says he didn't like the show, would the opinion on it change?

Omg, yes! And thank you so much for coming to my inbox!!

So, first of all, thank you for teaching me a new word. For everyone else who -like me- didn’t know the exact meaning of “astroturfing”:

But I think the whole situation is complex.

1) i absolutly think that Disney has a team that does use shady methods to make the public opinion appear better than it actually is. I think it was @iamnmbr3 who noticed that some 5 star reviews on major rating sites looked like they were bot-generated (but it was quite some time ago. I linked the article in my master post). Twitter (now X) has so many bots on it and the platform allows them to tilt polls massively. So, yeah, I agree. But. I don’t think that’s necessarily the biggest influence on the public opinion.

2) I assume this is the poll you refer to. It doesn’t distinguish between series Loki, TR Loki, and OG Loki which might have biased the outcome in a negative way. I know some hardcore og Loki fans who did not vote at all, because they LOVE og Loki, but cannot give series Loki a “smash”. Others voted “pass” because the pic is of TR Loki which is still a turn-off for some. I assume that some series Loki fans might vote “pass” because there are many that never liked Loki before the show.

3) there are different types of fans. The hardcore fans stay, but during the airing a lot of casual fans come rushing in, consume, and eventually leave. These people are often very enthusiastic, sometimes even aggressively positive. by now they will have wandered further, leaving only the hardcore fans behind (old and new ones).

4) a lot of people loved the SHOW but not LOKI. I see these types of fans mostly on Reddit. They like the time travel, or kang, or the side characters or just the mcu. Those as well won’t care for Loki or even vote on polls around here.

And then there is also this trend to attack people for liking stuff produced by people who are in any way problematic. Majors trial made all those people drop him like a hot potato. Perhaps some are now trying to “atone” for saying good things about Majors by roasting him? Perhaps the people who never liked him to begin with feel now it’s “safe” to publicly criticize him, since his supporters must fear being attacked for “supporting a domestic abuser”.

All in all, I deeply agree with you on the series being very bad for Loki (as in “destroying any chance for a satisfying conclusion to his arc, his feelings about the adoption, and the time with Thanos”) and I fear it might also be bad for both Tom and the MCU (as in “the public interest is going down and while the show WAS praised widely it still contributed to the downfall instead of generating or reviving interest”).

And yeah, I have a post on how successful the show was in preparation. 🙈 sorry for being so extremely slow with that one. I prefer focusing on writing fanfics, these days. 🙂 OG Loki is alive in our fics, dear anon. No one can take him away from us! 🫂

[sheisjoeschateau]

“You’re there. You were always there.”

A MULTI-PART FANFICTION SERIES, INSPIRED BY STRANGER THINGS, WRITTEN BY MISHA ST. JAMES.

Steve Harrington x fem!character. Childhood friends to lovers.

Slow burn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Spin-off of pre-existing character.

A note from the writer:

—

Hello there darlings. What started off as a rough one-shot concept inspired by my rewatching Stranger Things season one for the billionth time evolved into my new favorite fan fiction series that I have written and created. This truly has become my baby. I said it in my original post when leaving a sneak preview of this work of mine…but I’ll say it again. This piece really has become my baby.

I overthink everything. I like to dive deep beneath the surface of things and overthink things into magnificent new realities. A seemingly random (almost forgettable) character in this show ended up making my mind spiral. As a writer, I believe that all characters in books and cinema have purpose. So naturally, my mind wanted to make something of a character that only appears at random yet crucial parts of the show’s story.

Nicole only appeared in season one and she was assumed to be a friend of Steve’s. To us, she was no one. Yet the Duffers introduced us to her as if she was an already established character in the series. Steve seemed almost too comfortable with her, like there was history between them. But we never explored that past the first season. That really started to bug me during this last binge-watch I had. So being the over dramatic writer that I am, I decided to make something of it myself. And damn, did it just…flow. I had no plans of making this such a big series but yeah, here we fucking are.

I gave her my last name because, well, *hair flip* I’m a narcissistic bitch like that when it comes to writing. ;) So in this series of mine, she is written Nicole St. James. I took some inspiration from The Breakfast Club because, ya know, Claire Standish? Molly Ringwald was an iconic redhead in the 80s film world, and that role in particular really seemed to fit how I wrote Nicole while fitting how she was presented in the show. I also did not want to give her a predictable personality either (because, again, as a writer I’m complex like that). So I did not take the typical “mean girl” route with her character because that honestly would just hit a wall. I wanted there to be a reason for her her in this show. I think the actress who played her did a good job with it, given there wasn’t much for her to work with.

I actually researched the actress a bit (Glenellen Anderson) and she’s actually very talented. She said something in one of her interviews about her role being small in ST but serving a crucial part in the first season of the series, given her being the reason that Steve finds out about Jonathan taking the pictures in his yard that night. Idk tbh I lowkey feel like a stalker who’s obsessing over an actor before they make it big so that one day I can be like YEAH I KNEW SHE WAS COOL WHEN SHE WAS STILL UNDERRATED. Lol ok moving on —

So I guess that’s it then. Time for me to shut up and just let the story I’ve created speak for itself. Thank you to some of my favorite writers on here and fellow Steve Harrington fanatics for inspiring me to release my own work into this universe. I’ve been very hesitant but I am glad to finally be doing it. I want to hear your thoughts and honest opinion while also asking kindly that you keep my emo heart in consideration when doing so 👉🏻👈🏻 If I forgot to tag you, I sincerely apologize. Please remind me in comments so that I can remember next time!

*disclaimer: this is based on pre-existing characters. in the show, nicole is portrayed by a redheaded white female actress so I based my writing around that. I do not discriminate against ANY race or preferred gender roles who choose to read and engage with my stories.

Enjoy and please leave feedback :)

x, MISHA

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY PLATFORMS WITHOUT PROPERLY CREDITING ME AS THE WRITER. I DO NOT GRANT PERMISSION FOR YOU TO CLAIM MY WRITING AND WORK AS YOUR OWN. YES, THIS IS A FAN FICTION BASED ON A PRE-EXISTING SHOW. HOWEVER THERE IS BASIC COURTESY TO BE EXPECTED IN THE WRITING COMMUNITY SO PLEASE RESPECT THAT. 🖤

Warnings: This is very much an 18+ written fan fiction series. Please read at your own risk. There is language, eventual mentions of blood and violence, drinking, sex, etc. There is also going to be mention of homophobia because the 80s were full of misogynistic men and women who were so unforgivingly dense (like fucking Tommy H. and Carol Perkins), so I want to address that as we eventually introduce Robin and Will into the series so that we can have our outstanding LGBTQ darlings welcomed and given the representation that they deserve.

—————

VOLUME I

“You’re there. You were always there.”

——————

Steve Harrington is six years old when he meets you: the girl who carries the other half of him with her. 

He first spotted her playing outside alone, in the yard right across from his. She has a big treehouse, and no one but herself to share it with. And even though you seem content — he doesn’t know why, but it makes him sad. Watching you alone, in your own great big world, and no one begging to share it with you. 

So after a week, he walks across the street to do something about it. He had watched you climb the little red ladder up to the top, making round trips with your backpack and various items. 

The door to your treehouse is made of wood, painted pastel yellow with tiny butterfly stickers adorning it in random places. He hears you, talking to yourself the way you would talk if you had company. Maybe it’s to an imaginary friend. Or maybe, you just like to talk to yourself. Regardless, he knocks, and your gibberish ceases. Eventually, he hears your feet padding closer and closer.  The door creaked open, revealing your curious grey eyes. Your red hair framed your small, heart shaped face, and the cream knit sweater that you wore looked almost as warm as you were.

“Hi,” Steve said. “I’m Steve. I live in that house over there.”

He pointed to the big house that loomed just across the street from you, and you briefly peeked out to look at it before looking back at him. Your full pink lips pressed into a shy smile.

“I’m Nicole,” you told him. “I’m six.”

“Me, too,” Steve tells you, proudly and with a dashing smile. But then he furrows his brow. “Why are you having a tea party by yourself?”

You look back into your little safe haven, following his gaze that stares at the eclectic assortment of tea cups and teapots set for multiple people when it was just you. 

“Oh, well I just like to be ready,” you tell him. “In case I make any friends.” 

Suddenly, you beam at him. Your usually shy demeanor dissolves as the gleam in your eye shines through. 

“Do you wanna be my friend?” you ask Steve, who raises his eyebrows in response.

“Umm, yeah,” he finally responds, nodding his head. He stuffs one hand into the pockets of his little Levi jeans, fastened with a belt and all, already a charmer with his polo sweater. His other hand goes to push back some of his floppy chestnut hair. “Yeah, let’s be friends.”

You smile brightly.  “Okay.”

And so you are, just like that.  Friends.  As you pour Steve a cup of chocolate milk, which you both confidently call hot tea without remark, you quietly hum to yourself.

Steve watches you, thinking you’re really pretty.  Whenever you go to pass him a teacup, he takes it and quickly looks around, pretending he wasn’t just staring at you.  He was in awe, really.  Fairy lights were strewn about, with potted flowers in the windowsills.  There was a table with lots of crayons, markers and gel pens, unfinished drawings scattered underneath them.  A few completed drawings were hung up on the walls.  

“Doesn’t it get scary up here all by yourself?” he asks you, genuinely curious.

As you set the little teapot back down, you shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. “Mm-mm,” you tell him. “I’m safe up here.”

You raise your teacup to your little pout to sip.  You seemed so content all by yourself, as if the word ‘lonely’ was completely foreign to you.

Steve is six years old when he sees the reflection of his better self in you.

_______

Steve is 7 years old when he calls you his best friend.

You’re both playing at recess, roped into a game of duck-duck-goose. A little girl named Carol is sitting next to you, and Steve watches her roll her eyes and huff throughout most of the game. You’ve been smiling and laughing this whole time, except when she gets mad that you don’t pick her when you’re circling the group of kids and selecting someone to chase you.

“Nicoooole,” she whines. 

You look at her as if you’re terribly afraid of what you could have done wrong. Carol crosses her arms, pouting.

“You’re supposed to pick me,” she complains.

“Oh,” you said, eyes wide.  “I-I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You shuffled your feet, your loafers twisting in the grass.  Your ponytail blew in the breeze, along with the little flyaway baby hairs, and you looked a little embarrassed – almost ashamed – as the kid you had picked goes to sit in the assigned mush pot, since she couldn’t catch you.

“Well I do,” Carol said, matter of fact. 

Steve grimaces. He hated seeing you so uncomfortable, and he really hated the way this girl was talking to you.

“Those aren’t the rules,” Steve argued, defending you. 

You looked at Steve, a little relief becoming evident in your timid eyes.

“It’s not not in the rules,” Carol snarks back. Alright, now Steve is just plain bothered. This girl is annoying. And shamelessly entitled. 

Carol looks back at you, glaring. “Pick me next time.”

You slowly sit back down next to her, sinking into the grass with a frown. You look so timid, sad even. Steve wanted to drag you across the circle to sit next to him, but he didn’t because you were suddenly standing again, stuttering a little “Oh,” realizing it was still your turn. 

You cautiously made your way around the kids, placing your hand on top of everyone’s heads while saying “duck.”  You started to sweetly grin as you approached Steve, who grinned back. You plopped your hand on top of his head, definitely messing up his hair, but he didn’t mind. It was you, and that was okay. Anyone else, no. 

You fearfully dubbed Carol duck as you passed her, and her jaw clenched. She kept her arms tightly folded, watching you like a hawk. Steve narrowed his eyes at the snarky girl, already hating her. You patted his head again, “duck,” and Steve watched you curiously. Surely, you weren’t gonna pick her. Then again, he was afraid of what would happen if you didn’t. 

But sure enough, you did pick Carol. 

Goose. 

Carol smirked so fast before bolting upright to chase you around the playground. 

Steve was wildly chanting your name, along with the others.

“Go, Nicole!” he shouted, rooting you on. The others echoed his cheers. Your red hair flipped in the wind, ponytail bouncing behind you as you dashed back towards him in your school dress and loafers. 

Carol looked so convinced that she was gonna take you down, but you were faster. She chased you with a devilish smile, which began to quickly dissolve once she saw you getting closer to homebase.

Suddenly, you plopped down beside Steve, out of breath. He and the others hurrayed, and you smiled as you panted.

But Carol scoffed, finally making it over to you all in the circle. She buckled over her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Ha-ha, Carol,” some boy sneered jokingly. 

“Yeah Carol, mush pot time,” Steve chimed in, a little too happily.

She scoffed again, louder this time. “No way, that’s not fair.”

Steve twitched incredulously. “W’you mean it’s not fair? She beat you.”

Carol’s jaw clenched again, and she stared daggers in your direction as she put her hands on her hips with a sour attitude. Steve cringed at the sight of just how nasty she looked, hating that it was being directed towards you. You shrunk back in your seated position on the grass, looking afraid. As Carol stalked over to sit in the middle of everyone, she kept staring at you with a look that could kill. You looked to the ground, and Steve kept his place next to you with a newfound wave of protection washing over him.

“Fine, well,” Carol sneered.  “I’m not your friend anymore.”

Carol’s words were nothing but laughable. To any mature adult — hell, any human not in kindergarten — her remark would have meant nothing. But to you? A seven year old with a heart of gold, and the desire to just make everyone feel included? Her words were detrimental. They meant you were a horrible person. You were to blame.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t —“ you stumble, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to, Carol, I-I…”

Carol whipped her head around to not face you. Your eyes were really sad now, and Steve’s heart sank.  You brought your knees to your chest, and your grey eyes went a little glassy.

“I can switch w-with you,” you kept trying. “I’ll sit—”

“Shut up,” she barked. “I said you’re not my friend.”

“Yeah, well she’s my best friend.”

Steve’s words landed hard. 

Carol whipped her head around again, now facing him. Everyone in the circle stared at the perfect-haired boy, including you. Sweet, innocent you. Your grey eyes peered over at him nervously. But there was a glint of hope in them, too, and if you weren’t so shaken up and close to crying you would have smiled. 

Steve shot one last disgusted look in Carol’s direction, then rose to his feet.  He reached out a hand, taking one of yours from your knees.

“C’mon,” he told you.  “Let’s go play somewhere else.”

You blinked, but didn’t hesitate to follow his lead.  You looked at him, giving him a small smile before looking downwards again.  Steve wrapped his fingers around your hand so tightly, and your little heart fluttered.  He was so warm, and you felt so safe.

Carol huffed, appalled.  “Since when are you best friends with ugly redheads, Harrington?!”

Your heart sank even lower as you saw Steve’s eyes go fierce, his jaw clenched.  He whipped around to look at Carol.

“The only ugly redhead here is you,” he shot back at her, and her jaw dropped.  All the kids reacted, some laughing and some making amused remarks.  But Steve didn’t pay them any mind as he stalked off with you, hand in hand.

You kept up with him as best you could with your little legs, feeling his grip on your hand tighten.  He looked so mad, and you gulped.

“Steve?” you asked, voice quiet.

“Don’t listen to them,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  He was staring straight ahead, mind racing.  You could tell he was really upset, and it made you feel bad.  “Or her.  She’s a bitch.”

You gasped, eyes wide.  “Steve!”

“What?  She is.”

You were shocked to hear him curse.  A few moments passed as you kept walking beside him, completely taken aback.  But then, you felt a grin tucking your lips upwards.  You stifled a giggle, and Steve turned to look at you in surprise.  You glanced up at him shyly, really giggling now.  His hard expression turned soft, a smile of his own creeping on his lips.  Eventually, he laughed too.

The two of you made it over to the swingset, and Steve let go of your hand.  You already missed his touch, the warmth of it.  He walked to stand in front of the tire swing, nodding his head at you to join.  You walked in front of the tire, reaching up to grip the chains from which it hung.  Steve crossed over to stand behind you.

“Here,” he said, placing his hands on your small hips.  You felt yourself flush, heart fluttering again.  A whole flock of butterflies swarmed your stomach.  Steve was happy you couldn’t see his face, because he felt himself flush too.  He wasn’t sure why a surge of electricity shot through him as he lifted you up into the tire swing, but as you swung your legs into its open middle he could smell your lavender shampoo.  It made him melt, and his hands lingered just a little longer than needed on the hips of your jeans.  You were safely seated now – had been for a moment.  Maybe two or three moments.  

Steve cleared his throat, rounding the wheel to climb onto it and sit across from you.  He tossed his feet into the hole, hands wrapped around the chains.  You looked at him with that signature warm, slightly shy smile of yours, and he returned it.  His smile was definitely more confident, though.  Charming, even for a first grader.

Your feet dangled in the air, so Steve used his to touch the ground and help you both begin to swing.  For a little while, you both just listened to the breeze.  The leaves were beginning to turn brown, a sign that autumn was approaching.  Kids laughed in the distance, buzzing with energy.  You figured you both only had a little time left, before you would have to return to classes.  But spending the last bit of playtime alone together was more fun than with the bratty kids you’d been spending time with earlier.

“Am I ugly?”

Steve had been watching a butterfly swarming nearby when you spoke.  He almost hadn’t heard you, with the way you spoke so quietly.  You sounded so small, fragile.  You were staring at the ground, your loafers criss-crossed as the two of you swayed on the swing, looking so vulnerable.  It made his heart split in two, the fire inside him burning again.  

“No,” he said, a little too harshly.  Your eyes shot up at him, a little surprised at his tone.  But he continued with no filter, cause what 7-year-old boy has one of those?  “Carol’s a liar.  You’re not ugly.  At all.  You’re beautiful.  Way more than her.”

Your eyes shone, and Steve watched your cheeks go rosy pink.  A small but real smile found its way onto your little lips, and you looked at him so sweetly before you glanced back down at the ground.  You kicked at the air, thinking to yourself.  While you weren’t looking, Steve memorized each eyelash concealing your grey eyes and the curve of your eyebrows.  He noticed that you only had a small sprinkle of freckles on your nose, but nowhere else on your porcelain skin.  He felt his heart skip a beat, losing himself in you.  God, you were perfect.  How could anyone ever call you ugly?  

“Wanna come over for dinner?” Steve asked.

You looked up at him, snapped out of your own thoughts.  “Yeah.  I’ll have to ask my mom and dad if that’s okay.”

“I think my mom is ordering pizza,” Steve continued, mouth watering.  “Do you like pizza?”

“Yeah, but I like mushroom pizza.”

Steve scrunched his nose.  “Eww, why?”

You giggled, shrugging.  “They’re really good!”

“Bleck.”

“You should try them,” you insisted.  

Steve would normally say something along the lines of hell no, but to you?  That was impossible.  He pursed his lips, nose still scrunched and shivering at the thought of eating fungus on pizza.  But he relented, sighing.

“Alright, I guess,” he said, kicking to swing you both again.  “But if I don’t like it, you have to help me with the dishes.”

You smirked.  “Deal.”

You both swayed, listening to the trees rustle.  Steve watched the teacher approaching everyone from her perch, knowing she was about to whistle for everyone to make their way back for school.

“Hey Steve?”

He turned back to look at you.  ‘Hmm?”

You paused, contemplating your words.  But then you gave him the kindest smile in the world, and it rendered Steve speechless as you spoke with more certainty than you had all day.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

__________

As the next few years went by, you and Steve continued to become a permanent part of them for each other.  

Your parents had easily become friends with his parents, making it a regular thing to have each other over for holiday parties and gatherings, or even just casual dinners.  Both your parents and his were too wealthy for their own good, too caught up in their own worlds to really pay either of you any mind.  Sure, they knew that the two of you were friends.  Close even.  But they didn’t really know much beyond that.  Steve’s parents were just glad to know that their kid had something to do other than bother them every day after school and on weekends, and your parents were so used to you playing by yourself that they didn’t really notice much difference.  Your families both lived in a swanky neighborhood, so becoming acquainted with one another hadn’t been something that required much consideration on their part.  They ran in the same circles.  Timeshare mutuals, and plastic veneer smiles who shared travel itineraries for whatever bougie seminar was happening that month, or the next.

Until you came along, Steve had been a lonely kid destined for a life of abandonment.  Once Chet Harrington had been given a son by Paula, he stopped the bloodline there.  “Good,” he’d remarked.  “Someone to carry on the family name.”  As far as he was concerned, that’s all his kid’s purpose served.  Take over the family business, get a trophy wife and repeat the cycle.  Siblings?  Why bother?  One kid was enough to handle.  They cost money and time, and the Harringtons didn’t just hand those out like charity.  If it weren’t so heavily frowned upon, or a threat to their reputation, they wouldn’t have even bothered with hiring a babysitter.  It was mainly Paula Harrington who insisted on it.  After all, she did love her son.  She just wasn’t a nurturing mother, giving her care to her pearls and pristine walk-in closet maintenance far more than her little boy, so her love was never felt by her son.  As far as Chet was concerned, once Steve turned 10 years old, a babysitter was no longer a needed expense.  Because that’s all it was to him: an expense.  So come the double digits, and Steve would just be a kid left to fend for himself, all alone in his great big house with no parents.

But so were you.  You, Nicole St. James, were just as doomed as he was.  Your parents were more aloof than anything.  They weren’t quite as cold as the Harrington’s.  But they weren’t all that warm either.  Ken had impregnated his wife, Alison, on a spontaneous trip overseas.  You’d been the result of a heavy night of gin, blue curacao and dirty talk.  Filthy sex and silky sheets in a Five Seasons were the blissful combination the night that you were conceived.  It had been a surprise for both of them, when that little strip read positive with a pink stripe.  They’d made a fuss of it, planning a frivolous baby shower with tons of guests and a plethora of gifts for their baby girl on the way.  They had found out the gender as soon as they could, not wanting any more surprises.  Your arrival had been a very anticipated event, so when you had been actually brought into the world the excitement fizzled away.  It seemed more exciting to celebrate having you, rather than actually having you.  Granted, your parents loved you.  You were spoiled with toys, new clothes every week, and social outings.  Not that you ever asked for any of those things.  The only thing you ever sought out from them were hugs, which they half-heartedly returned with barely a fraction of the love that radiated through your tiny arms.  

You had your mother’s hair, though hers was more auburn while yours was pure fire.  And you had your father’s grey eyes.  But what you had that they didn’t, was your spirit.  They were boisterous, loud and shallow.  You were quiet, shy and soft.  You radiated only genuine kindness, oftentimes just observing your surroundings and being in your own little world.  Your parents were party animals, constantly busying themselves with events and planning vacations.  It’s why they busied you with the same types of things by default, assuming you to be just like them.  Constantly wanting company, people to distract you and noise to drown out the silence.  But you weren’t like them.  You loved the silence, the chirping of the birds and the whoosh of the breeze.  You loved books instead of toys, and gardening tools instead of dolls.  Not that they paid attention to that, though.  Instead, they just bought you whatever the flashiest new item was.  Or, if you just so happened to take a liking to something, the St. James’ bought it to appease you quickly and not bat an eye.  Screw sentimentality, if it made you happy then by all means you could have it.

The only reason they had a treehouse built for you, was because Ken St. James had discovered his daughter’s makeshift fort outside.  It consisted of amateruly constructed cardboard boxes, with random blankets propped up on sticks.  He and Alison had just gotten home from a business trip, and your aunt had shrugged her shoulders when they asked how her stay had been.  She told them you had spent the whole time outside, playing in your disastrously built utopia.  Your parents didn’t give much thought to it, hiring a few carpenters to come and build you a proper treehouse for your sixth birthday.  You had beamed, telling them thank you a thousand and one times.  They’d thought it was cute, at first.  Until one night, as they got ready for a gala, you had gone to hug your mother as she coated her lips with a red rouge.  She’d yelped, surprised at your sudden touch.   

“I love you, mommy,” you whispered to her.  

“Nicole, darling, what are you–” she stammered, one hand holding her lipstick and the other swatting at you.

“For my treehouse,” you continued.  “I love it.”

“Oh, psh, honey,” she scoffed wryly, slowly peeling your little arms off of her shoulders.  “Enough now, you’ve thanked us too many times to count.  It’s a little exhausting.”

She had chuckled humorlessly, resuming her pampering.  You had watched her reflection, and if she’d cared to look at yours instead of her own she would have seen the look of longing and saddened wonder that filled your eyes.  She would have seen the way your full lips parted, no more words being spoken.  And she would have seen you quietly pad your way back out her bedroom door, where you made your way back to your room.  

Instead of finding love through your parents, you found it in your treehouse.  You found it in the swaying of the trees, and the butterflies that swarmed your front yard.  You found it in yellow crayons, and glitter gel pens, and the weeds you insisted were flowers as you pulled them and placed them into little pots.  You found love in the changing of seasons, and the twinkle lights that glowed at night in your safe haven.  You found love within yourself, and you found love in Steve Harrington.

The bike rides down the neighborhood streets, and down to the convenient store to buy snacks with your little weekly allowances.  The swapping of ice cream cones on hot summer days — when Steve noticed the way you eyed his chocolate waffle cone, as he secretly wanted your strawberry sugar cone instead.  The afternoons into nights spent in your treehouse together, playing make believe and coloring.  The fairy wands and pirate swords, and the battle of neverland that you fought side by side in your tulle dress while Steve wore a green polo and birthday hat with a red feather crudely taped to the side of it.  The field trips and summer camps with your classmates, always sitting beside each other on the bus and whenever you all had to eat in between activities.  Lord knows, if you two were sat apart, one of you would complain until it was made right.  The innocent secrets you told each other, and the way you both laughed at the silliest of things until your sides split.  The countless hours that you spent at his house, no parents or nanny in sight, playing hide and seek.  One time, it took him so long to find you that he panicked.  He was pretty sure you had actually disappeared for good, and his breathing quickened.  It took him calling out your name several times, until eventually it sounded like he was blubbering.  You had made your way out of his closet, where you’d proudly buried yourself underneath all of his clothes.  Steve saw you crawling out with a worried look on your little face, saying his name in such an assuring tone.  He had run over to you and hugged you tight, sniffling.  But when he pulled back, he’d already roughly rubbed his eyes so that no tears spilled.  The two of you resumed playing like nothing had happened.  

Most days were spent in your treehouse, except when a thunderstorm was coming.  That’s when the two of you would throw a bunch of blankets and pillows together in his or your room, making a fort.  A shelter, if you will.  The thunder rolled as the lightning streaked across the sky.  One night, you had both curled up with a big bowl of popcorn, boxes of cereal, pop tarts, sodas and candy, no trace of actual substance in sight.  You had flashlights and cards, playing Go Fish and War.  At some point, Steve had asked if you believed in ghosts.  You shuddered, nodding your head yes.  His eyes had gone wide, clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders.  You pulled the pillow in your arms closer to your chest, your grey eyes just as wide as his.

“Do you think…” Steve had started, his voice soft.  He gulped, a thought crossing his mind.  “D’you think we’ll ever have to fight monsters?  You know, like aliens or something?”

You gulped, too.  “I dunno,” you started, voice soft like his.  “I think that monsters in books and movies are really scary.  I don’t wanna fight them in real life.”

Steve nodded, thinking.  “Well, if we ever do… I’ll protect you.  Promise.”

You hugged your pillow tighter, your worried eyes shining and a shy smile meeting your lips.  “You will?”

“Yeah,” Steve assured you, with absolute certainty.  Because he meant it with all of his heart.  No monster would ever hurt you.  No ghost would haunt you.  And nothing would ever take you away.  “I always will.”

CRACK.  That’s when lightning struck the electricity box, and all the power in Steve’s house went out.  You screamed, and Steve gasped.  He grabbed one of the flashlights, shuffling his way over to you.  He wrapped the blanket around both of you, as the two of you huddled closer together underneath the pillow fort you both built together.

“S’okay, I’m right here,” he soothed you, feeling you shiver against him.  Your little arms were wound around his torso, your grip fierce.  He clung to him with so much trust, melting into him, even though you were scared.  He melted right back into you, holding you close.  “I got you.”

The winds howled outside, thunder still rolling and lightning flashing around you both in the quiet, still room outside of the walls of blankets enveloping you both.  

“Do you think there’s a monster out there?” you asked him, your frightened voice the cutest whisper in the world.

“Nah,” Steve said, but even he wasn’t so sure.  He couldn’t be scared, though.  He had to make you feel safe.  “But if there is, it won’t get you.  I won’t let it.”  He rested his chin on top of your head.  “Not ever.”

Even at nine years old, Steve knew he would never break a promise that he made you.  You did, too.

And right now, as you turned ten years old, you were surrounded by a bunch of faces.  Most of them, you didn’t really know.  Some were kids from school, and others were their parents.  Lots of random adults, buzzed with champagne and spirits.  But as you sat in a chair behind your pink birthday cake, all aglow with ten gold candles, there was one face you recognized and loved.  Steve’s.

He grinned at you, his smile growing more charming each day.  His hair was still iconic, always styled just right.  He wore a preppy polo with a collar, and khaki slacks with nice shoes.  His brown doe eyes shone in the candlelight – and even though the others spoke loudly over each other, he spoke so that only you could hear him.

“Make a wish, Nic,” he said, seated right next to you.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL!” your mom squealed, the inebriation evident in her voice.

“Wait, honey, wait,” your father chuckled, gripping his whisky.  “We gotta sing first.”

“Damn,” Mr. Harrington remarked, also laughing.  “These women just don’t have any patience, do they?”

The two men snickered, and Mrs. Harrington playfully scoffed and swatted at them before wrapping an arm around your mother.  She, too, was a bit tipsy.  

“Alright,” she purred, a smirk on her lips as she raised her glass.  “All together now.”

And so the song began.  Happy Birthday rang all throughout the house, echoing off the dining room walls of your childhood home.  Kids sang with enthusiasm, while adults sang in a million different pitches.  Some voices were happy, others were bored, and a few were drunk.  But the only voice you listened to was your best friend’s, who sat by your side with one arm resting on the table and the other perched on the back of your chair.  You beamed at him, and he beamed at you.

Steve swore in that very moment, that you were perfect.  The way your little baby hairs still escaped your hair that was pulled into a little half-up do.  You were wearing the simplest, most feminine pastel yellow dress.  The sleeves had tiny ruffles on it, your shoulders peeking out and arms bare.  Your face was clean of any makeup, aside from the white face painted butterfly wings around your grey eyes.  It was so whimsical, making you look even more like a princess than you already were.  Steve watched you look around the room, enchanted by your enchantment.  And as your gaze circled back to meet his own, he smiled bigger.  Your smile grew, too, and the crowd of people in the room ceased to exist.  You’d both forgotten them, until they started to cheer wildly as your birthday song ended.

“Nicky!” your mother squealed.  

God, you hated when she called you that.  You broke your gaze from Steve, looking at her.

“Come on, baby, make a wish!”

You looked back down at your candles, scrunching your eyes shut and thinking.  Steve’s eyes never left you, entranced with the way you looked in the orange glow of the birthday candles.  Selfishly, he made a wish too.  It wasn't his birthday, but it didn’t have to be.  Steve wished for all your wishes and dreams to come true.  He wished for this to be the best year yet, for you and for him.  He wished for you to never move away, to always be his best friend across the road.  He wished for you to never outgrow him, or want to be better friends with somebody else.  He wished it would always be like this, that no matter what changes came he would always have you.  He wished that he knew what you were wishing for, and he wished for you to be wishing for him.

Little did he know, he was your only wish.  It was already true, and as you blew out the candles, you wished for it to always be true.

________________

Steve was twelve when you saw him cry for the first time.

His parents had gotten his report card, appalled at the C and D despite all other A’s.  Paula Harrington was disappointed and embarrassed, but Chet Harrington?  Well, he was furious.  

“I didn’t raise someone stupid,” he spat at Steve, who leaned against the kitchen counter with his head down, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.  They had been arguing over this for at least thirty minutes.

Steve swallowed.  “I’m not stupid, dad,” he murmered, voice defeated.

“Sorry, what was that?” his father egged him on, voice bitter.  There was zero trace of kindness or understanding, and Steve’s mother could only watch them from the dining table with a pathetic pout.

Chet stepped closer to his son, sneering.  “Speak up, son.  Couldn’t hear you.”

“...said I’m not stupid,” Steve tried again, hating the way his voice still shook despite talking a little louder.

“Stop being a little bitch and look at me,” his dad spat, the air escaping his lips and onto Steve’s face.

“Chet, please –” his mother tried, pathetically. 

Steve felt the hurt inside of him bubbling into anger, unable to control himself.  

“I said I’m not stupid!”  He shouted back, having taken enough of his father’s bullying for the past thirty minutes.  The past month.  Several months.  Years.

But he was only rewarded with a slap to the face, so sharp it felt like a knife.  If it weren’t for the ringing in his ears, he would have heard his mother gasp.  The impact had made him turn a full 180 degrees, and he was stunned into silence as tears sprang to his eyes from the harsh blow.  Slowly, he turned back towards them.  He first made eye contact with his mother, whose hands were clasped over her mouth.  Eventually, he made eye contact with his father, who seethed and showed no sign of remorse.

“Your report card says otherwise,” he slithered.  He slowly backed up towards the kitchen table, taking his seat again.  He took a sip of his brandy, clicking his tongue at the taste.  “Raise your voice at me again, and you’ll see stars next time.”

Steve could hear his own breathing, could feel the anguish that spread throughout his mind, body and soul.  His heart ached, and he longed for comfort.  But the two people who sat in front of him wouldn’t offer him that.  Nobody would.

Except you.

So he bolted his stairs, seeking privacy so that the unshed tears threatening to spill over wouldn’t show his weakness any further.  He held them at bay, biting his lip so hard he was pretty sure it would bleed soon.  He ran into his room, throwing open his drawers as he breathed hard.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his only thoughts consisting of getting a change of clothes and heading over to you.  He threw a backpack over his shoulder, locking his bedroom door and sneaking out his window.

He knew the route all too well by now, having done it since he was six.  He crawled down the side of the house, walking towards the house next to his and the one after that.  Then, he made his way across the street, where he walked behind one house, then two, and then made it to yours.  This way, his parents wouldn’t see him heading to your house out their window.  

Once he was there, he climbed up the side of your home where your window was dimly lit by the glow of your bedside lamp.  Good, he thought.  You were home.  His heavy heart swelled with relief, and he mounted the side of the house and up onto the roof the way he always did when sneaking into your room at night.

Your window was cracked open, always ready for him.  The curtains were drawn, and he saw you sitting on your bed, reading a book.  Your brows were closely knitted together, your eyes intensely focused on whatever you were reading.  One leg was crossed over the other, glasses perched on your nose and hair tucked back into a messy topknot.  

Steve swallowed back the large lump in his throat and tapped the windowpane, just enough for you to hear him.  Your head snapped up, pulled out of your bookworm trance.  Grey eyes met brown, and you went to smile until you saw the distress in his features.  You set your book down and removed your glasses, padding over to him, quietly but quickly.  A large t-shirt hung to your thighs, landing just above your knees and accentuating your slim legs.  You pulled the window all the way open, looking at him with the most concerned expression.

“Steve?” you asked, voice gentle.

The dam broke.  Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer, any plans of trying to do so completely demolished as a choked sob left his lips.  His shoulders heaved forward, and you felt your heart break at the sight.  This was new.  This was very new.  You’d never seen him like this.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.  He gripped you back like a lifeline, crying into your shoulder.  You stayed there for a moment, before pulling back to bring him inside.  He clung to you, not wanting to let go, but when he realized that he was still in the window frame he allowed you to move away from him and followed you inside to stand behind you.  You quickly closed the window, turning to face him again.  

He was a good several inches taller than you, so you looked up at him.  Your expression was so soft, so full of empathy it only made him break down more.  You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his chest.  He buried his face into your shoulder again, weeping until the sleeve of your shirt was soaked through.  He shook in your embrace, the sound of his cries the saddest sound you had ever heard.  You stroked the nape of his neck, fingers playing with his hair.  His arms around you were so tightly wound, you thought he might never let go.  And you didn’t want him to, so neither of you made a move to do so.  You just stood there, holding one another, letting Steve cry until he couldn’t any more.

After a while, you slowly pulled back to look up at him.  Steve’s brown eyes were bloodshot, his stylish hair ruffled and messy – yet somehow, still perfect.  Even when he was sad, he was still so pretty.  

He rubbed at his snot sodden nose with his elbow, fruitlessly trying to wipe it away.  He sniffed roughly, not used to being the one who needed comforting.  But as you reached up to thumb away a few of his tears, he didn’t pull away.  Anyone else, he wouldn’t have let seen him like this, let alone touch him.  But you were the exception to every rule, and he wouldn’t dare pull away from you.  Not when you were so understanding, not casting any judgment towards him.  Any walls he had built around himself in front of others, he let come down in front of you.  Because when he was with you, he didn’t have to be strong, or brave, or cool.  He could just be Steve, a boy with big hair and an even bigger heart.

You smiled at him gently, waiting for him to speak.  He sighed.

“My dad said I was stupid,” he started, voice shaky.  “He said I – he said…”

Your small smile faded, your eyes boring into his.  He looked shown, shuddering a breath.  You took his hands in yours, guiding him to the bed.  You both sat down, your hands still intertwined.  You sat facing him, your legs crossed in Indian-style.  He mirrored you, matching your position and staring down at your dainty fingers in his.  You wore a few rings, minimal sterling silver bands.  Steve always loved how they made your piano fingers look even longer, delicate.  He twiddled in thumbs around yours, absentmindedly tracing shapes as he spoke.

“They saw my report card,” he continued, sniffling.  “I got a C in math.  And a D, i-in science.”

You furrowed your brows, still listening.  You wanted to say so much already, but you will yourself to stay quiet and let him finish.  He needed to let it out.

“It didn’t matter about the other grades.  Dad, h-he just cared about the bad ones.  Like no matter what, I’m j-just a failure.”

You shook your head, not having any of it.  “Steve,” you started, voice firm but kind.  “You’re not stupid.  And you’re not a failure.  You’re smart, and you study just as hard as anyone else does.”

He sniffled again, eyes still downcast.  “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.  “S’not enough.”

“You’re enough.”

That made him look up at you, his sad glassy eyes meeting your fierce ones.  The love that poured from your grey irises shot straight into his brown ones, and he knew you were being as honest as they come.

“He hit me, Nic,” he murmured, tasting bile as he admitted it. 

You felt a wave of emotions hit you all at once.  Anger.  Heartbreak.  Anguish.  Rage.  Pain.  And love.  So, so much love for this beautiful boy, who you got to call your best friend.  The thought of his dad hitting him – anyone hitting him – made you see red.  He didn’t deserve this.  Any of this.  And as you noted a slightly red mark on his cheek, you felt your soul split open.  Tears of your own sprang to your eyes, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” you whispered.  

His face crumpled, and you pulled him in close as he started to cry again.  You silently cried too, grateful that he couldn’t see you.  He kept one hand in yours still, resting on your laps.  The other wound around your waist, the hand you had placed on his cheek now draped around his neck.  You lightly swayed, allowing the silence and Steve’s breathy cries to wash over you both.  

Eventually, Steve’s tense shoulders sagged and his cries subdued.  He relaxed into you, and you could tell that sleep was finding him.

“Hey,” you murmured into his neck.  “Let’s get some sleep.”

Steve slowly pulled back, watching you pull the covers down.  Normally, it would be weird.  A boy, watching his female friend offer to sleep in the same bed without their parents knowing.  But you’d both fallen asleep together so many times over the years.  In your treehouse, on his bedroom floor, on the couch while watching a movie.  Even in the same bed, when studying or doing homework. Now was no different, as far as you both were concerned.

So as you nestled yourself underneath the covers, gesturing for him to follow, Steve didn’t hesitate to crawl in next to you.  He pulled the covers over the two of you as you turned out your light, only the moonlight illuminating your face in the dark room.  You both laid on your sides, facing each other.  You placed a hand on the mattress, in the small space between you both, palm up. He placed his hand on top of yours, wrapping his fingers around yours.  He sighed deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can stay here anytime you want,” you whispered beside him, your eyelids drooping but still watching him.  

Steve squeezed your hand tightly.  He felt an overwhelming sense of relief, his heart swelling with love for you.  He peeled his eyes back open, taking in your beautiful face.  If there was an angel watching over him, it had to be you.  God couldn’t have possibly given him a better one, because you were it.

“I don’t wanna go back,” he whispered back, timid.  “Unless you’re there.”

You sighed, nuzzling into your pillow with a little nod.  “Okay, then you won’t.”

Both your voices were tired, but the words you shared with one another held so much truth and conviction. Because you meant what you had said. Steve never had to spend a single night alone in his great big house, whether or not his parents were there.  You stayed there, or he’d stay with you.  It became an unspoken routine, refuge.

No matter what pain life threw his way, or yours, you both knew that so long as you had each other, it would be okay.

____________

But one morning, several months later, Steve’s mom found you in his bed.  

The two of you were sound asleep, her son starfished across the mattress and you curled up into a little ball.  At first, Mrs. Harrington just froze.  How long had this been happening?  That’s the question that sprang her into action.  Her motherly instincts decided to actually make an appearance, storming over to the bed to jostle you awake.  

“Nicole St. James, what in blazes are you doing here?!”

Your eyes shot open, finding Mrs. Harrington’s frantic eyes.  She had a firm grip on your arm, and you shrunk deeper into the mattress.  

“Steven,” she said through gritted teeth.  “Wake up.”

Steve stirred, not really waking up.  Such a boy.  A tornado can’t wake boys when they’re not even thirteen yet.

You, on the other hand, were wide awake.  Groggy, but alert.  You felt your cheeks flush crimson, knowing this looked bad.  Sure, at twelve years old you’re not fully aware of just how bad this actually looked.  But a boy and a girl, sharing a bed, behind their parents’ backs?  That had trouble written all over it.  As far as any adult was concerned, that screamed bad news.  And nine times out of ten, it was often a result of youthful scandal.  

But for you and Steve?  It was simply comfort.  Safety.  Codependency.

That’s not how his mother saw it, though.

“Steven!”

He bolted awake, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.  When he looked over to find you staring at him, your grey eyes terrified and lean arm in his mother’s manicured grip, he began to come to.  The reality set in, and Steve felt his chest clench.  You both had been caught.

His mother’s eyes held a fire that he had never seen before.  Even in all her beauty – loosely curled blonde hair, wispy bangs and silky white blouse to match her high waist trousers – she looked intimidating.  Steve realized at that moment, he had never truly felt intimidated by his mother until right now.  She looked absolutely furious, appalled even.  Her lips were pursed together into a tight, thin line, and by the looks of her clenched jaw he could tell she had gritted her teeth.

Steve swallowed, feeling the panic seep in.  “Wait, mom –”

“Not a word,” she cut him off.  “I didn’t raise you like this.”

You didn’t raise him at all, you thought to yourself.  If it weren’t for the fear you held, you would have had to really fight to stay quiet.  But as Mrs. Harrington kept going, you couldn’t have found your own voice if you tried.

“Bringing girls up to your room to sleep with them?  What filthy movies have you been watching?  Did you… Oh my god, did you find one of your father’s?!”

Steve’s eyes went wide with horror.  “What?!  No!  Mom, please –”

“I don’t know what vile things you’ve had put in your head, Steven.  By your friends, your father, porn or whatever the hell you kids are doing these days.  But this.  Ends.  Now.”

Your terror-stricken eyes expression became all the more terrified, and as Steve’s mother wrenched you off the bed you let out the most heartbreaking little yelp.  Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“MOM, PLEASE, DON’T –”

“And you,” she turned to face you, dragging you beside her out of his bedroom.  “You’re a young lady.  You should know better.”

You felt absolutely sick to your stomach.  Hearing Steve’s mom accuse you of being capable of doing something so grimey – of being a slut – made you feel so small.  And Steve’s panicked shouts weren’t helping.

“But I–I,” you stuttered, your voice so shaky and low it was almost inaudible.  How could she think you and Steve would do such a thing together?  It wasn’t like that.  He was your best friend.  Your safe haven.  Your favorite person in existence.

Mrs. Harrington slammed Steve’s bedroom door shut, trapping his shouts.  She was dragging you down the stairs as you heard him fling the door back open and barrel after you.  She whipped around, waving a finger up at him.

“You stay right there,” she ordered him, voice fierce and booming.  Then, as she kept going, she told you, “I’m taking you straight home to talk to your parents.  This friendship is over.”

The way that Steve wailed ‘no,’ had to have been the most excruciatingly painful sound you had ever heard.  Tears sprang to your own eyes, and you didn’t even try to conceal the whimpers that fell from your lips.  Mrs. Harrington couldn’t have cared less, ripping her car keys off the wall next to the front door.

“Mom, wait, just wait!” Steve’s voice was strained, but desperate.  

You tried to look back at him, only catching glimpses as you were being hauled away by his mother.  You could see the petrified anguish etching Steve’s features, his tired eyes practically popping out of their sockets.  His hair in complete disarray, his sweatpants hung low and his t-shirt all twisted.  He was the most beautiful mess, and you were being taken away from him.

“Not another step, Steven Harrington!” his mother barked, voice shrill.  

Steve came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk, and even though he was a good distance away now you could see his shoulders shaking and bottom lip trembling.  Your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt like throwing up.  

Paula Harrington was now standing next to her car, opening the passenger side door.  No way in hell was she going to march you over to your house, directly across the street, just so that all of your neighbors could watch and stare from inside their respective homes.  She ushered you in quickly, giving you no choice but to obey.  You crawled into the front seat, pulling your knees to your chest, crying into them.  You felt so ashamed and embarrassed – and for what?  Falling asleep next to your best friend?  Yeah, that’s exactly what you had done that caused this twisted guilt to stir up inside you.  

“I’m taking you straight home,” she told you, cold and fierce.  “And you’re not to step foot over here again.  Do you understand?”

You bit into your knees, clenching your eyes shut in shame.    Mrs. Harrington slammed the door shut, making you jump.  The sound, along with her words, rang in your ears.

This friendship is over.

Your mind was reeling, stomach churning.  You clutched your legs, tugging them impossibly closer to your chest and you rocked in the front seat of Paula’s car.  You looked out the window, watching Steve run towards you.  His mom held out a hand, and you could hear their entire conversation through the thin glass window as you sniffled.

“Mom, nothing happened,” Steven insisted, voice broken.

“You expect me to believe that?!” Mrs. Harrington shot back at him with zero sympathy.  “How many times has this happened, Steven?”

Steve raked his fingers through his chestnut hair, distressed and breathing hard.  “You don’t understand, we just fell asleep –”

“How many?”

“Whenever I can’t sleep!” Steve screamed at her, and his mother visibly pulled back.  “Because y-you –”  Steve gasped for air.  “D-dad, it’s just –”  Steve pressed his lips together, words failing him, so painfully frustrated with himself and this entire situation.  “God, it’s nothing, Mom.  Nic comes over here, and s-sometimes I go there –”

“You sleep at her house?” his mother interrupted, shocked.

“It doesn’t matter!” Steve cries.  His mother is now frozen, taken aback by the hysteria in his voice.  As her son stares back at her, tears threatening to spill over and lips parted, she finally shakes her head.

“You’re almost thirteen years old, Steven,” she says, voice low and bitter.  “You’re too damn old to be having little sleepovers with girls.  You know how this looks.  I know what you were doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve shook his head, violently.

“Yes.  I do.”

“NO, YOU DON’T.”  Steve wailed, completely falling apart.  “You don’t know anything.  And I don't care that you don’t, because Nicole knows and that’s all I care about.”

His mother gawked at him, and Nicole could tell that his words stung her a bit.  Still, Paula stood her ground.

“Well whatever you two are doing, it’s over,” she said, coolly.  

Steve’s face crumpled.  “No, please –”

“You’ve got plenty of guys you can hang out with, Steven,” Mrs. Harrington said, tongue sharp.  “They can sleep over whenever you want.  Go call them.”

Steve flung his arms up in the air, running his hands through his hair again as he whirled around in a full 360 before facing her again.

“I don’t care about them –”

“Start caring,” she said simply, turning to walk towards the car again.  She was approaching the driver’s side to open her door.

“Mom, no, NO!”  Steve lurched forward, trying to grab her car keys.  His mother jumped back, reacting just in time.  Her reflexes served her justice as she whipped the keys out of his reach.  

“What is the matter with you?!”  Paula looked absolutely stunned now.  

But Steve wouldn't listen, still trying to wrench the keys from her hands.  They rustled, arms and limbs tangled as they both struggled to overpower the other.  Paula stuttered verbal protests, while Steve whimpered and grunted.  You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell, despite how utterly broken you felt.  Because Steve wasn’t letting you slip away that easily – and while you were too timid to speak up for yourself, he wasn’t.  He was always the brave one.  At school.  Whenever you fell off your bike, or slipped on the playground.  Nobody could pick on you, so long as Steve was there.  Not even his parents could, apparently.  

Eventually, Mrs. Harrington got the upper hand.  No doubt due to the fact that Steve wouldn’t actually be physically aggressive towards his own mother.  She tugged hard, causing Steve to lose his footing and stumble back onto the ground.  He collapsed, landing on his side and barely catching himself.  Paula gasped, watching him make a harsh impact with the concrete sidewalk.

“Steve, baby –” she breathed, noting the bad scrape on his arm.

Steve began to convulse with ugly sobs, curling in on himself.  He gritted his teeth, lips stretched thin.  Mrs. Harrington stared in horror for only a moment before kneeling beside him to assess the damage.  She might not have been a warm person, but she wasn’t a violent one either.  That was all his father.  She didn’t believe in putting a hand on her kid.  She just didn’t do anything to stop it when Mr. Harrington did.

“Give me your arm,” she said, her voice shaking now.

“Please, mom, please,” Steve bawled, pulling away from her and cowering back.  Paula noted the way her son wouldn’t look at her now, and she hated it.  It reminded her of the way he was around his father.  And she was not his father.  She was hardly a mother, but more importantly she was not his father.  She swallowed hard, pride overcoming any deeply buried traces of warmth and love within her.

“Listen to me,” she tried again, voice still shaking.  “Give me your arm.”

But Steve just unabashedly wailed, now feebly sitting up.  Tears streamed down his cheeks, drops of blood forming on his freshly scraped arm.  The guttural cries escaping his lips were so agnonized, Paula couldn’t understand it.  She had never seen him like this.  He just kept murmuring unintelligible things that sounded like don’t, don’t, don’t, and please, no, and pathetically trying to get the keys from her.  His efforts were futile, but he wouldn’t back down.

“Steven,” she said, incredulously.  “Stop.”

“Mom, she’s the only friend I have.”  

Steve’s tortured words landed hard, on both you and Paula.  They hit you like a freight train, piercing your heart.  

Steve cried and cried, finally looking at his mother again as he admitted this treacherously painful confession in a wrecked voice.  Paula couldn’t believe it.  There was no way that Steve didn’t have friends.  She had seen him.  At his games, and social gatherings.  He got along with everybody.  She didn’t have to be at school with him to know he was popular.  All the girls had a crush on him, and all the guys wanted to be around him.  No way were you the only friend he had. No way was he as lonely as he was saying that he was.  He wasn’t, he just wasn’t… Was he?

But then Paula realized it wasn’t a matter of him not having friends.  It was only a matter of you.  You, his other limb since he was the age of six.  You, who spent every birthday and holiday with him.  You, who sat with him on the bus, and at lunch, and any party you both went to together or with your families.  You, who somehow seemed to be everywhere, in every memory.  She’d never really thought much of it, assuming it was just some childhood crush or next door neighbor that you would both eventually outgrow.  And when she had found you in his bed, naturally, she assumed the worst.  You and Steve were both in middle school.  This was prime time for puberty, and exploring sexuality.  It was the pre-high school danger zone.  No way around it.  But come to think of it, she’d never seen you act as anything other than friends.  Not that that mattered.  Friends liked each other, too.  It all had to start somewhere.

Paula glanced up at the passenger window of her car, spotting you.  You still had your knees to your chest, fresh tears of your own spilling down your cheeks.  She would never admit it, but the sight of you looking so hurt – thanks to her – made her heart ache.  She knew you were a good girl.  If anything, you were obnoxiously good.  Sometimes she wondered if you had a single mean bone in your body.  It was infuriating, really.

She turned back to her son, who was still weeping uncontrollably and waiting for her to respond.  That really drove the knife deeper into her heart, and she could feel herself cracking.  The brutal truth of it all was landing, the realization dawning on her.

You were Steve’s home.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would never be that for their son.  Nor would their great big house.  No social status, or money, or upper class school would give him refuge.  But you?  You did that.  Have been doing that for the past six years.  

Steve didn’t lack friends.  He lacked family.  And you were far closer to family than his actual family was.

Mrs. Harrington took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, keeping her emotions at bay.  She pushed her bangs out of her face, slowly rising to stand.  She closed her eyes briefly, mustering up whatever strength was left in her.  Then, she made her way towards you with a collected yet somber expression etching her feminine features.

All you could do was watch her, unable to breathe as you anxiously waited to see what she was about to do.  To your surprise, she reached for the handle…and opened your door.  You sat there, frozen in place.  Mrs. Harrington didn’t hurry you back out of her car, seeing how visibly afraid you were.  Instead, she just tilted her head slightly, and you knew that was your cue.  Newfound relief surged through you, and you felt the ice pick that was lodged in your chest finally melt.  Cautiously, you made your way out of the passenger’s seat, your bare feet touching the grass.  You looked up at her timidly, finding her expression to be blank.  

Then you turned to Steve.  Beautiful, sweet Steve.  He was still on the ground, his cries steadying.  When he saw you step out of the car, he stumbled to his feet, hiccuping.  You kept your head low, shoulders slumped as you made your way towards him.  You crashed into his chest, feeling the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as Steve’s arms wrapped around you.

Steve’s entire world had ended just a few minutes ago, and now it had begun again.  The second you were back in his arms, everything was alright.  He still hiccupped and whimpered, but you did too.  You just held each other, crying softly.  

All Paula could do was watch.  Something about the way her son held you – so protectively and so full of love – made something inside her stir.  A sour taste filled her mouth, wanting to feel touched by it but too bitter at her own miserable reality to let it do so.  Because her son resonated more love than her husband ever could.  The way that Steve clung to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he swayed you both side to side, was the truest form of love that Paula had ever seen.  Her friends had never held her like that, when she was a little girl.  Even all grown up, Chet had never held her like that.  Not even close.  Not even at their happiest, years ago.  Maybe she had assumed that their son would naturally be the same way.  

God, was she wrong.  Because as you fiddled your fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, whispering how sorry you were, causing Steve to just shake his head against your shoulder and tell you not to be, Paula Harrington saw the epitome of true love shine through her son.  And, by extension, you. 

She hung her head, unable to look any more.  It upset her too much.  So she quietly made her way back inside, refusing to speak of this ever again.  Not with Steve, or with you.  Your parents would never know, and Chet Harrington would never know either.  

As Steve held you close to him, refusing to let you go, somehow you both knew that you would never have to worry about this again.  You weren’t going to be pulled apart, or stop being there for each other.  Because even if you had been driven away from him today, Steve would have persisted.  You would have done the same.  Tethered souls cannot be untethered.

Steve was twelve years old when he found that out.

___________

It was Steve’s fifteenth birthday when he kissed you for the very first time.

His parents were out at some party that night, having brought yours along too.  So the house was his for the night, until they drunkenly stumbled home.  All of his friends were elated.  Big house, no parents.  That’s the way Carol Perkins always puts it.  Steve Harrington’s house was the coolest on the block.  Huge pool with a deck.  Two stories, plus a man cave basement with a fully stocked mini bar that felt like an underground speakeasy.  And best of all, no parental supervision.  

Steve had become quite the hit, come freshman year.  He was captain on the swim team, and his body showed it.  His charm was as enticing as ever, winning every heart of every girl at school.  His boyishly handsome features blossomed day by day, growing cuter by the second.  His hair had become his statement piece, coining his nickname, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.  He had it goin’ on, and everyone knew it.  Including you.

You, too, were a catch.  Your hair was longer, and you’d trimmed layers into your long red locks so that you had little side swept curtain bangs that all the girls wanted.  You were a cheerleader, but you really loved photography.  So you took that up, too.  You also had a great house for parties, which your mom was always too willing to host for you and your cheer squad girlfriends.  You never really planned those, so much as she did. And sure, you shared the same circle of friends as Steve.  But you still had that introverted loner streak in you, liking to do your own thing.  Steve was the social butterfly, his posse of admirers increasing more and more.  You were popular, given that you were the freshman heartthrob’s best friend.  ‘Steve’s girl.’  

Except you weren’t his girl, though.  Not really.  Yeah, you two were inseparable as ever.  That hasn’t changed.  But you weren’t technically his.  At least, not romantically…

“C’mon, big boy!  Chug the rest’a that beer so we can play some spin the bottle!”

Tommy H.  Somehow, that rowdy kid had gotten into your circle.  You weren’t really sure how.  He played basketball, but he was mostly on the bench.  His daddy was rich, too, but he was a drunk and a slob.  His step-mom was somewhere in her twenties, probably leaning more towards the younger end.  No one really knew much about his actual mom, but the mommy issues definitely showed.  Not that this had stopped Carol from being all over him.  Those two had their tongues down each other’s throats all the time, ever since she hit on him at one of the games.  They had snuck behind the bleachers to make out.  Probably more.  They bickered, sometimes being downright cruel to each other.  But it seemed to be their thing.

Oh yeah, and about Carol.  She was pretty much the same as she was in kindergarten.  Bratty.  Obnoxious.  Loud.  But when she had noticed you and Steve were still friends, and Tommy H. had made it clear to her that that wasn’t changing anytime soon, she’d retired her days of picking on you.  She pretty much had since that day at recess, but especially after seeing you were this untouchable princess in Steve’s world.  She didn’t get it, but she didn’t care to try.  She merely accepted it, and so you let it be.  You were stronger than you had been back then, having more of a voice.  But you were still a good girl at heart, soft spoken and a little too forgiving. 

“Oh Jesus,” Steve muttered, chuckling as he swiped at his perfect hair.  

Tommy H. has an arm slung around him, getting everyone to cheer him on.  You sat on the couch next to Stacy and Liz, your Paps Blue Ribbon in hand, grinning.  Chug, chug, chug, everyone chanted.  Soon enough, Steve’s bottle was empty and a circle was forming on the floor.  You settled on the ground across from him, shooting him a cute smirk.  He winked — and it didn’t matter how long you’d known him, it always made you blush.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up to find Christopher Cazaway standing above you, a soft smile on his lips.  You returned it, patting the empty space beside you.

“Be my guest.”

He obliged, not hesitating to take you up on the offer.  Christopher was a sophomore.  Blonde, handsome, 6’5” and a basketball superstar.  He was bound to get a scholarship somewhere great, no doubt in anyone's mind.  He was every coach’s dream, along with every girl at the school.  But as far as his personality goes, he wasn’t the jock type.  He was sort of a gentle giant, with a heartwarming smile and hearty laugh.  He could dribble and shoot hoops like no other, and he was drop dead handsome, but there wasn’t a vain bone in his body.  Christopher was surprisingly soft spoken, almost shy.  He was mature, sometimes seeming a little wise beyond his years.  He seemed to talk better with adults than teens in ways.  Still, everyone adored him.  He got invited to every party, hosting a few of his own but rarely.  

Secretly introverted kids like you noticed other like minded souls when you spotted them.  But little did you know, it was Christopher who had noticed you first.  Sure, he liked your vibrant red hair and ocean grey eyes.  Yeah, he noticed the lean build of your legs and slim curve of your neck and jawline.  Absolutely, he thought you were beautiful.  He liked the thin little rings you wore on your fingers, and he thought your laugh was adorable.  More than anything though, Christopher liked the way you carried and presented yourself.  He liked that you were so aware, observant.  You weren’t aloof, or like all the other girls that flung themselves at him.  You were real.  And he liked that.  A lot.  He kept liking more things about you, the more you both sat together in chemistry class or saw each other at basketball practice, since that’s where you had cheer meets.

“Man,” he said, crossing his legs.  “Haven’t played spin the bottle since middle school.”

You hummed a light chuckle, setting down your drink.  “Well if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never played period.”

He cocked an eyebrow, grinning at you.  “Is that right?”

You smiled sheepishly.  “I don’t get out much.”

He had to chuckle at that, knowing you were half kidding.  But he didn’t doubt that you’d never played before.  Not because you seemed awkward or uncomfortable, but because you weren’t like the other girls.  Or anyone here, for that matter.  You weren’t the typical snobby rich girl, from her snobby rich family.  You were different.

From across the room, Steve watched you two talk.  He found it interesting that Christopher and you talked with such ease, never having realized you two might be friends.  But Stacy and Liz chimed into your conversation eventually, and Tommy H. was back to hollering again.

“Everybody, shut up!” he shouted, silencing people for the most part.  He clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot.  “Let’s fuck some lips.”

Girls made faces and sounds of disgust, while most of the dudes snickered in agreement.   You kept a straight face, not really phased by his antics.  Christopher found the kid gross, but knew he was just an ignorant freshman who thought he was hot shit.  So he didn’t really let it irk him much.  

“Wait,” Carol interjected, cracking open a peach schnapp.  “What if, like, a guy lands on a guy?”

Tommy H. snorted.  “Then you roll again.  No one’s gay up in here.  This isn’t a faggot party.”

Steve’s nose scrunched at that.  “Tommy, c’mon, man.  Don’t say that.”

You squirmed, adding softly, “that’s really not nice.”

“What?!  It’s true.”  Tommy H. took a swig of his beer, shrugging.

“Okay, then what about girls?” Carol pressed.  Her boyfriend smiled devilishly.

“Nah, that shit’s hot,” he sneered.  

“Ugh, that’s not fair!” Carol whined, but her grin contradicted her complaint.  You internally rolled your eyes.  Oh sweet misogyny, you thought to yourself.  The selective homophobia of an insecure male asshole was enough to make you wanna puke.

“Okay, can we just — play?” Someone interjected.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said, waving his hands.  He placed his empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle, looking up to wriggle his eyebrows at everyone.  “Who’s first?”

“You are, big guy,” Tommy H. said, clapping him in the back.  “Birthday boy always kicks us off.”

Some of the teens oooh’d and giggled, dramatically.  All the girls were just itching for it to be them that the bottle landed on, so that they could smooch the hot new heartthrob of Hawkins High.  Their very own small town Prince Charming.

Steve shrugged, reaching to give the bottle a spin.  

As you watched the bottle turn and turn, you couldn’t help but feel the anxious butterflies dance in your stomach.  You weren’t sure why you hoped it landed on you.  Then again, you were.  In fact, you totally were.  You’d loved Steve for as long as you could remember.  It was inevitable, given your history.  You knew he loved you, too.  It just probably wasn’t like that.  Still, you wondered if maybe he wanted the bottle to land on you too.

But it didn’t land on you.  It landed on Becky, who couldn’t help but gasp.  She looked absolutely ecstatic, giggling like a school girl.  Steve look at her with a grin and raised an eyebrow, somehow looking both shy and confident.

Oh shit.  Were you about to watch him kiss another girl?  You hadn’t had to see that before.  Sure, you knew he’d kissed another girl before.  A few, actually.  Steve’s first kiss had been Elsie Fitzgerald.  8th grade, behind the P.E. building.  You knew that, because Steve had told you first thing.  He’d nudged you in line at the cafeteria, telling you in a low voice as he plopped a milk carton on his tray.  And you’d listened, pretending that it didn’t make your heart break.  He was pretty happy about it, more so for himself than he was actually lit up about having kissed Elsie specifically.  She had passed him a note in class, asking to be his Valentine.  Your heart really sank after hearing that, wishing it had been you.  After that, Steve had a few kisses with girls under his belt — none of which were with you.

You were still waiting on your first kiss.  

And as that reminder floated around in your head, you watched Becky crawl across the floor to lean in and kiss your best friend on the lips.  He sat still, kissing her with ease.  You wondered what it felt like.  The touch of his lips, which you always thought looked so soft.  Becky lingered a little while, and eventually Steve pulled away with a charming smile.  She squealed, flitting back to her seat and flipping her hair.  The butterflies in your stomach felt blue, but you kept a light smile on your face to mask it. 

Now, Tommy spun the bottle. One by one, teens kissed.  Some girls even kissed, making you flush.  You watched Steve kiss a couple other girls, all of them doing a horrible job at concealing their giggling fits.  At some point, it was your turn to spin — and it landed right between Steve and Tommy H. 

Now you really felt butterflies in your stomach. Their dance was a little angry this time, though.  Your anxiety spiked, dreading the thought of kissing Tommy but nerves wrecked as you thought about getting to kiss Steve.

Your eyes glanced up at your best friend by default, finding that he was already looking back at you shyly.  Tommy barked a laugh, clapping his hands.

“Look, I don’t wanna make any calls here,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “But uhhh, I’ll let the birthday boy take this one.  As much as I’d love to rock your world, princess.”

Your eyes narrowed at him.  “That’s one way to put it.”

“C’mon, birthday boy,” Carol snickered.  “Kiss your best friend.”

Steve felt himself blush, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.  God, he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you for so long without even realizing that he had until this very moment.  The way you were looking at him right now, looking so calm and content, he never would have known that you were so completely in love with him.  He was pretty sure that he was a party of one, in that department.  

Tommy kept making gross kissy noises.  Steve cleared his throat, feigning lighthearted cockiness as he looked wryly at Tommy.  

“Knock it off, man,” he mumbled, turning back to face you.  

You watched him eye you with curiosity, as if he was silently asking you if this was okay.  But you just smiled warmly, welcoming the contact.  So Steve got on his knees and crawled over to you, meeting you halfway.  As he got closer to you, he could see those tiny sun kissed freckles that lightly dusted your nose, and the smooth surface of your porcelain cheek.  He could see the light whisk of mascara on your eyelashes, and the very neutral shade of lipstick on your full lips.  He felt himself swallow, his usual bravado failing him.  You looked so gentle, sweet as ever.  He wondered if your tongue tasted as sweet as you were…

You sat back on your knees and heels, hands placed in your lap as you looked at him, patient and a little sheepish.  Steve was so close to you now, basking in the scent of your soft perfume.  It smelled like the ocean, with faint traces of coconut and vanilla.  He wanted to kiss you.  He really did.  

“Oh my god, kiss already!” Carol screeched.  

But neither of you flinched, even as the others echoed their sentiments.  You breathed a tiny laugh, making Steve grin.  Without thinking, he found himself placing a hand to the curve of your jaw.  Oh.  He hasn’t done that with the other girls.  His breath lightly hitched at the contact, realizing he’d never actually been this close to you.  Which made no sense, given you’d fallen asleep in the same bed for how many years now?  But this was different.  This type of intimacy wasn’t the same.

You subtly leaned into his touch, eyes never leaving his.  His thumb stroked your cheek, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.  Your noses touched, the sharp tip of his against the little perky end of yours.  His breath was warm against your skin, feeling like a blanket wrapping itself around your face.  You both kept leaning in, slowly.  Ever so slowly.

Finally, his bottom lip grazed yours.  And those butterflies in your stomach were doing a full blown ballet now.  Steve felt his heart skip a beat.  Maybe several beats.  

Damn, he thought.  Since when did kissing feel like this?

It was the way your lips moved against his, so graceful and supple.  The way your fair skin felt like satin beneath his finger tips.  Steve felt a rush of euphoria overcome him, reveling in the feeling of your mouth against his.  Becky didn’t kiss like that.  Elsie didn’t, or any of the other girls.  People always said that kissing is an art.  Steve did have a reputation for being a good kisser, even at just fifteen years old.  He just didn’t really think much of it until he was enchanted by your kiss.  

Part of him thought that there was no way you hadn’t kissed somebody before.  Not with how incredible you felt brushing your lips with his.  Then again — maybe it was because you had never been kissed before that it was so magical.  That innocent bliss of being ‘untouched,’ not yet tainted by anyone or anything.

Meanwhile, you reveled in the rhapsody of Steve’s kiss.  It was everything you ever could have dreamed it would be, and more.  His lips were soft, cloud-like to the touch.  He was gentle in the ways you thought he might be rough, and tame in the ways you thought might be wild.  He didn’t rush anything, taking his time with even the most microscopic of movements.  The light yet firm grasp of his hand on your jaw was slightly edging down towards your neck, and it was all you could do not to hum with lovesick satisfaction.

Yeah, no, everyone thought.  He definitely hadn’t been this tender when kissing the other girls here.

It made those other girls watch you with envy, guys cocking an eyebrow and making immature, snide remarks under their breath.  It was so obvious, the magnetic pull between the two of you.  Anyone could see it.  Even the two of you did, but neither of you would ever admit that.  At least not anytime soon.

And as the kiss ended all too soon — well, too soon for you guys, not necessarily the others — Steve’s pillow soft lips parted from yours as he ever so slightly pulled back to look at you.  Your angelic face was still just an inch or so away from his, your eyelashes fluttering open to reveal your grey irises, exposing a new tint of lovesick blue.  They sparkled, dancing as you looked into his brown eyes that now looked more like the color honey.  You bit your lip, a timid smile finding your freshly kissed pout.  

God, Steve thought.  He would've kissed you again, right then and there.

But as Tommy H. hooted and hollered, snapping your two out of your gaze, reality sunk in again.  This was a party, and it was just a game.  It wasn’t a real kiss.  It was prompted by a bottle and reckless youth.  Nothing more.

Right?

“Well alrighty then, lovebirds,” some guy chided with a dark laugh.

You blushed, casting your eyes downwards.  You composed yourself, watching Steve do the same.  Yep, it was just a dream.

“Yeah, since when did this become a love making session?” Tommy H. jested.

Steve shot Tommy a scowl, before watching you scooch back to where you’d been sitting.  You gave him a shy smile, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.  Steve quickly scooted back to his place too, across from you in the circle.  He smiled back at you softly, before Tommy gave him a macho shove.  Steve shoved him back, but with half the strength.  He was still snapping out of it.  Soon, he cleared his throat, forcing his mental fantasies to the back of his brain again.

“Alright, next up,” Steve said, straightening his hair.  Fuck, did anyone else see how nervous he felt?  Apparently not, because everyone seemed to resume the game like nothing had ever happened.

Christopher clicked his tongue and slapped his hands on his knees.  “Welp,” he said, leaning forward.  “Guess it’s me.”

He gave the bottle a good spin.  

Lo and behold, it landed on you.

“Oh shit!” Tommy H. exclaimed, rolling over into a ridiculously unnecessary fit of laughter.  

Carol made obnoxiously loud remarks, too, along with lots of people in the circle.

Yeah.  Oh shit, indeed.

“Aww, little princess is getting all the kisses tonight,” she cooed condescendingly, her high pitched voice so fake and sugary sweet.

You felt your cheeks flush again, allowing yourself to tinker a laugh.  You turned to face Christopher, finding him rubbing his neck with a bashful smile on his face.  He looked at you with slightly timid eyes, chuckling nervously.  He was nervous?  Why would he be nervous, you wondered?

Oddly, you felt very at ease about the situation.  It was just Christopher.  He was always kind to you, and a good friend since you started high school.  If you’d had to kiss anybody else in the circle, you would prefer it be him than some guy you hardly knew.  And you certainly hoped it wouldn’t land on Tommy. 

You shrugged your shoulders, giving him a little grin.  He grinned back, brightly.  The corners of his eyes crinkled, and it was adorable really.  

Given that he was seated right next to you, no awkward crawling towards each other had to take place.  You just pivoted to face him, comfortably.  This kiss didn’t make you nervous.  You’d just gotten your first one out of the way, with the one guy you had been in love with your whole life.  So a second one with someone who was just a friend?  It seemed pretty easy.

Christopher had his eyes intently on you, which dropped down to look at your lips then back up to your eyes.  He leaned back on one hand, which he placed slightly behind you firmly into the carpet.  It gently brushed against your hip, his tone arm ghosting over the fabric of your dress.  He leaned in closer, slow and calculated, so that he was slightly looking up at you.  You still weren’t nervous, though, even as you looked into his dark blue eyes.  You just smiled, waiting.  His loods became hooded as he tilted his head just right, so that yours could tilt the opposite way whenever your lips made contact.  Sure enough, his lips found yours, and it was the most grounding kiss.  It was sweet, a little firmer than Steve’s.  He was soft, just a little more assertive.  Suddenly you felt his other hand cup the back of your neck, his touch tender and caring but secure.  It surprised you, but you didn’t pull away.  In fact, you instinctively placed a hand on his knee. 

If you hadn’t been busy locking lips with Christopher, you would have seen the melancholy expression on Steve’s face.  But you didn’t.  

Steve hopelessly watched you kiss the handsome sophomore, overcome with a sense of dread.  He hadn’t taken this into account when playing the game.  You know, that he’d actually have to watch you kiss another guy.  Maybe that wasn’t really the problem, though.  No, the problem was the way that Christopher kissed you.  Was still kissing you.  Steve could have sworn that he saw the blonde athlete move his lips against yours a second time, and envy creeped up his spine.  Christopher definitely hadn’t kissed Linda or Molly like that earlier in the game, when the bottle had landed on him during their turn.  Nah, this was just with you.  Why the hell was he kissing you like that?

…why the hell was he still kissing you like that?

Steve squirmed.  He felt as though he might laugh, or shout, or blurt something without being able to control himself, and he probably would have had it not been for you finally breaking contact with Christopher.  Oh thank Christ, Steve thought, as he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding this whole time.

You simply gave Christopher a warm smile, but your eyes looked slightly dazed and confused.  Because you were.  It had caught you a little off guard, the way that he’d just kissed you.  It definitely lasted a little longer than needed.  Not that you minded it.  You didn’t really know what to think of it, actually.  One thing was for sure, his gaze on you was not one he’d given any of the other girls that night.  You knew that much.  You might’ve been uncharacteristically oblivious to Steve’s feelings for you, but you weren’t blind to someone else’s.  Before now, though, you never really thought that Christopher felt anything for you aside from friendship.  But now, it seemed that he did.  It seemed he very much did.

Huh, you thought.  Interesting.

You still hadn’t looked over to see Steve’s disheartened expression in the midst of all the immature teenagers in a circle, making a series of noises and comments following the kiss.  He hoped that no one was watching him.  Then again, would he even care if they did?  That didn’t matter, not when he cared way more about the fact that some other guy was looking at you like that.  It didn’t sit right.  It really didn’t sit right.  

But what was he gonna do about it?  Say, “Hey Christopher, it’s my birthday, so maybe back off my girl?”  No, because you weren’t technically his.  You were your own.

…but your heart was his.

…and his heart was yours.

Steve doesn’t really remember much after that.  He knew they hadn’t been playing for much longer, and that eventually everyone wanted to shotgun some more beers.  He knew that Linda and Becky had been saying something to him in the lavish living room, as they twirled their hair and batted their lashes.  He knew that Tommy H. had been daring everyone to jump in the pool, dragging Carol in with him.  Teens screeched and hollered, splashing and laughing while the Eagles blasted in the background from the Harrington’s flashy stereo inside the house.

Steve does remember when “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith had started to play.  He was leaning against his kitchen island, making small talk with some of the guys.  You were out by the pool, red solo cup in hand, and you had started to sway to yourself.  The skirt of your dress flicked at the corners, your toned legs sashaying you from side to side.  You turned a little, so that he could see your profile.  You were grinning ear to ear, in your own little world.  He loved when you did that.  You were so damn adorable when you did that.  You lifted a hand into the air – the one not holding your cup of booze – closing your eyes, and singing the words.

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

You talk about things that nobody cares

Wearing out things that nobody wears

You turn so that you’re now facing the open sliding glass door, opening your eyes as you fix your gaze on Steve.  Your eyes are a little hazy, but still glow.  You point your finger at Steve, serenading him in your buzzed stupor.  Your grin deepens as you sing the next words along with Steven Tyler.

You’re calling my name, but I gotta make clear

I can’t say, baby, where I’ll be in a year

Steve can feel himself smiling like an idiot, shaking his head as he lets out a throaty chuckle that’s drowned out by the music.  He bites his lip absentmindedly, watching you just exist.  You throw your head back, smiling at the sky, hips still swaying.  

Stacy makes her way over to you from the other side of the pool, definitely more drunk than you were.  She sings loudly, catching your attention.  You look down from the black night sky to look at her, and you laugh when you see her wanting to join you.  She grabs your hand, twirling you around and singing everything off key.

Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent

Said my get up and go, must've got up and went

Well I got good news, she's a real good liar

'Cause the backstage boogie sets your pants on fire

As the guitar solo rips through the stereo speakers, your dancing intensifies.  Everyone in the pool seem to be getting rowdier, also singing Aerosmith at the top of their lungs.

Stacy’s footing betrays her and she stumbles, laughing drunkenly.  You catch her, making sure that she’s okay and stifling a laugh.  But once you see that she’s clearly fine, you laugh too.  Liz makes her way out of the pool to check on her, squatting down and clutching her hands and still singing while Stacy just keeps laughing.

Steve takes the opportunity to approach you as you stand alone again, sneaking up quickly to grab you and spin you around.  You squeal, feeling his chest pressed to your back as your legs dangle off the ground.  You hold onto his toned arms tightly, giggling uncontrollably.  When he sets you back down, you turn so that you’re looking directly at him.  

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

Your stomach does flip-flops, seeing his signature Steve Harrington smiled directed only at you.  His brown eyes hold a certain mischief in them, and you can’t help but feel a rush of love for this boy you’d known since you were just barely in kindergarten.  He lifts your hand to twirl you, and suddenly you’re six years old again, dancing in your treehouse with Steve.  The real world ceases to exist, and it’s just the two of you in your own fantasy world.  No matter what ups and downs, highs and lows, good days and bad days, heartache and joy, that reality throws both of your way – the one constant you both have had is each other.  Somehow, that’s never changed. 

You both sing to each other, hand in hand and hips in time with the music.

I pulled into town in a police car

Your daddy said I took it just a little too far

You're telling her things but your girlfriend lied

You can't catch me 'cause the rabbit done died

Yes it did

Now everyone around you is losing their mind, screaming the words and partying like animals as the song continues to blare.  It’s an 80’s rock-n-roll kind of vibe, full of teen angst, booze and sexual tension.  Guys shotgun more beer by the pool, couples make out in the deep end.  Girls hold each other with limp limbs and sloppy smiles, slurring the words and proclaiming their girl power love for each other.  They won’t remember it tomorrow, but for tonight it’s the glorious eternal truth.

As for you – Nicole St. James, the freshman mystery girl and princess in the making – you’ve only got eyes and moves for your best friend in the world.  Steve Harrington, Hawkins High’s soon-to-be very own King Steve.  Two best friends and lovers in denial, hopelessly devoted to one another, just without the title.  You both dance around the truth together on his posh pool deck.  The confident shake of his hips and thrusts of yours fool you blind from seeing that you are just as equally afraid as he is to make the wrong move.

Stand in the front just a shakin' your ass

I'll take you backstage, you can drink from my glass

I'll talk about something you can sure understand

'Cause a month on the road and I'll be eating from your hand

Steve knows that something’s gotta give.  He knows that it can’t go on like this forever.  But for him, this is safe.  This is forever.  What you two have guarantees that you’ll both make it.  That you’ll never go away.  You won’t abandon him, or lose interest in him.  If he keeps his distance, even tangled up in your arms when dancing in his backyard or falling asleep next to you, then he’ll always keep you close.  All the money in the world, but he could never afford to lose that.  Not ever.

And you don’t say anything to make him change his mind.  To make him ask you to be his.  To make a move beyond a kiss shared in a public game of spin-the-bottle.  To tell you that he doesn’t just love you – but that he is in love with you.  You don’t confess it either, no matter how fiercely you want to do exactly that.  Because as selfish as it was, you were content too.  You never minded being on your own, but a world without Steve stopped being fathomable in 1972 on that brisk afternoon in your treehouse.  The second he had knocked on your pastel yellow door, in his little sage green sweater, jeans and converse, your solitude had made room for a second person.  He was your other half, so it really wasn’t even surrendering solitude.  It was simply completing it.  Steve completed it.  Completed you.

_________________

To be continued…

VOLUME II next month 🖤

TAG LIST: @loveshotzz @creelhousesteve @t-lostinworlds @freezaz123 @zbeez-outlet @cutiecusp @unhealthyobservationsloves @sunioli

[ultraericthered]

Assorted Dragon Ball Dub VA Thoughts

I do not like Ian James Corlett's take on Son Goku. Disrespectful as that may sound seeing as he was the original English VA for the character, I just think he brought the wrong energy, wrong tone, wrong inflections, and just wrong portrayal to the role. He made Goku sound like a mature, macho superhero, and that had a negative effect on how Peter Kelamis and Sean Schemmel had to perform the role when they took over for Ian. Everything uncharacteristic about Goku in the early dubs can be traced back to Ian's portrayal of him.

The big three English voices for Goku to me are Sean Schemmel, Peter Kelamis, and Kirby Morrow. Schemmel is easily the most iconic and recognizable, and he really made the role his own as he improved over the years, Kelamis' portrayal of Goku in the Pioneer dubs of the first three movies is as close to a dead ringer to Masako Nozawa in English (but from a male VA) as you could ask for, and I think the late Kirby Morrow, who took over from Kelamis in the Westwood dub, was the only VA for Goku from the Ocean Group to get the character down right in the show itself, doing less of the cheesy hero shtick. All of them work really well for Adult Goku.

For Kid Goku, however? Sorry, but I can hear literally no one else but Stephanie Nadolny in that role. No one else even comes close. Her rough voice and delivery of her performance was just pitch perfect.

Bulma's best dub VA is still Tiffany Volmer, who never gave a poor, half-assed performance in the role except for her debut outing in Season 3 (which was just cringe). Monica Rial comes in as a close second but the trouble with her is that when she needs to get comically frantic and really emote, she sounds very immediately recognizable as a Monica Rial performance, whereas Volmer always sounded more unique. Three other Bulma VAs that go overlooked are Lalaina Lindjberg, Maggie Blue O'Hara, and Wendee Lee. Lalaina's Bulma is underappreciated, as it was very fitting and well acted. Maggie's Bulma sounds the most "real" out of all the Bulma voices, but in that movie dub she sort of underperformed compared to how she could've (think Lime) and she should not have been brought back in the Westwood dub. And with Wendee Lee, I just find it funny that she technically was the first to do Bulma in English for the lost Harmony Gold dub and then reprised the role many, many years later in the short lived Bang Zoom dub of Dragon Ball Super.

Gohan's a complicated case for me, since unlike Kid Goku, I was never big on how Stephanie Nadolny voiced Kid Gohan - she undersold everything during the Season 3 dub and then was too try-hard in the redub and every reprisal. I greatly preferred Saffron Henderson and Colleen Clinkenbeard's more natural takes. However, Nadolny absolutely killed it as young Teen Gohan in the Cell Saga, to the point where every other VA to perform the role during those events just will not sound right. As for older Gohan, while I love the way Kyle Hebert does him, Chris Hackney in the Bang Zoom Super dub was almost just as good. Brad Swaile in the Westwood dub and even Lex Lang in the US release of Final Bout showed potential too.

I always liked Terry Klassen's Krillin in a semi-ironic way. Like, he had a naturally fitting voice for the character but often overacted like crazy and made him hard to take seriously. Sonny Strait, like most, started off a weak replacement in Season 3, but nowadays? He IS Krillin. He breathes so much life and likability into the character and for years I'd believed Sony would never have a role that could match or surpass it...until a certain yellow octopus teacher came along. While I also like how Mike Thiessen and Brian Beacock approached the role, they fail to stand out when stacked against Sony's take. Also, major props to Laurie Steele as Kid Krillin - her voice for him sounds exactly like a kid who'd grow up into Sonny Strait's Krillin.

Scott McNeil and Chris Sabat are both hailed as the best VAs for Piccolo by many, and I'd say that's right....but Sabat himself has gone on record to say that he believes his Piccolo is utterly dwarfed by Scott's even now, so I'm sort of inclined to believe him. Solid as Sabat's Piccolo has become, there's just this gruff, gravelly, badass quality to Scott's Piccolo that just cannot be matched. Aside from them, Dan Woren and Ray Chase were fitting VA picks for Piccolo (though Woren was sadly misdirected given where he featured in), and you just gotta have a soft spot for Paul Bandey as Big Green!

Chris Sabat was, however, the best voice for Demon King Piccolo in the Dragon Ball dub, which helped make his Piccolo Jr. better.

Vegeta....is a toughie. Chris Sabat was horrid as the character in Season 3, showed improvement in Season 4, came into his own in Season 5 onward but also sounded awful in the redub and phoned it in for a lot of his subsequent outings, and then ever since dubbing Kai, he's been excellent enough to secure his place as the definitive English voice of Vegeta. Like, his Kai and post-Kai performances are objectively the best Vegeta has ever sounded in Western dubs, he just embodies the role so much. ...And yet, whenever I think back to or revisit the first two DBZ sagas, it is exceedingly difficult for me to get Brian Drummond's Vegeta out of my head. The nostalgia is a large part of that, but on its own merits, Brian's Vegeta was just so deliciously sinister sounding and oozing with underlining arrogance and spiteful fury that made Vegeta seem so intimidating. This is the guy who made "OVER NINE THOUSAAAND!" and "MY WRAAATH!" so unforgettable! He did fine, if not a touch weaker, in the Westwood dub as well, though by the Buu Saga I definitely prefer Sabat's take. The only other English VA to come close to these two would be Kaiji Tang in Bang Zoom's Super dub, but even that's mainly due to him strongly channeling Sabat into his Archer-esque vocal portrayal.

Linda Young's Freeza remains iconic for many, and I will say that I can't pass any blame on her for having been in the role and any missteps she might've committed in it, as she was cast to be a soundalike replacement for the late (and sadly miscast) Pauline Newstone. I will also say that in her first five years voicing the part, from 1999 to 2004, her Freeza sounded pretty great and she was skillful at voicing the character as it had been translated. In Season 3 she'd been the highlight and its sole shining instance of competent voice acting, giving Freeza different, fitting voices for all his forms and nailing the character's sadistic evilness in spite of the scripts feeding her some truly horrendous dialogue. However, by 2005 and the redubbing of the Namek/Freeza sagas, Linda had, for whatever reason, decided to start voicing Freeza in this "tranny granny" voice, like a high pitched, chainsmoking old diva with obnoxious line reads and screams like Rita Repulsa, and the voice directors just...let her do that. And this was especially harmful for Freeza in his final form, as the voice acting did not match the character as depicted in any way whatsoever. Her being recast for Kai was a not pre-planned thing, but I was and still am so relieved it happened. It's what had to be done and indeed what should have been done a long time back.

The late, great Christopher Ayres is bar none the best dub VA for Freeza. He redefined how the character would sound like in English, delivering a take on him faithful to Ryusei Nakao's original portrayal while also making enough distinctions to stand on its own. While Ayres is still greatly missed in general and his passing was a huge loss for the industry, it wasn't a huge loss for the role of Freeza since Daman Mills is freakishly beyond brilliant at recapturing that voice and doing similar performances to carry on that legacy, so we are so fortunate to have him. Beyond them, the only other offical dub voice for Freeza to even begin to match up would be Derek Stephen Prince doing his Vexen voice for the character in Bang Zoom's Super dub.

Cell's an interesting case where all dub VAs to do Imperfect Cell sound alike and all suit him well, but for Semi-Perfect Cell, Travis Willingham surpassed Dameon Clarke in how he performed the voice prior to Clarke's reprisals starting with Kai, where he improved the Semi-Perfect Cell voice to stack up to how Travis did it. And Perfect Cell? Dameon Clarke stands alone there, unmatched. He is perfect!

Both Josh Martin and Scott McNeil give portrayals of Mr. Buu that work for his character. The same can't be said of Corby Proctor's strange Jar Jar-Gollum hybrid voice, and Spike Spencer trying way too hard yet failing to come off as convincing.

Justin Cook's initial outing as Super Buu was...off. He just sounded way too scary and ominous for a character who's supposed to be not just demonic, but savage, brutish, and petulant. Brian Dobson in the Westwood dub actually played the part better. But in practically every reprisal, especially by Kai, Justin proved able to easily match that.

Am I the only one who has a hard time stomaching Eric Vale as Future Trunks these days? From his first shot at the role all the way to the Kai dub, he absolutely nailed the character and endeared him to so many fans with his emotional performances, but afterwards he started making the voice way too gruff and snarly and it's made Trunks harder and harder to take seriously. I don't think he's no longer capable of doing Trunks as good as he used to since other roles like Yuki Sohma suggest that he still could, so I don't know what he's going for anymore. Sean Chiplock sadly never got the chance to go into more Trunks material since Bang Zoom's Super dub lasted those first two sagas, but I think he'd sound a lot better in the role.

Master Roshi had a great VA for him for Funimation's initial dub of Dragon Ball in Michael Donovan, and it's weird that he was never brought back for DBZ. Out of the other Ocean Group VAs to voice him, I only really liked Don Brown in The World's Strongest - Ian James Corlett, Peter Kelamis, and Terry Klassen never sounded right and were never convincing. Mike McFarland IS Master Roshi in English: he did a good job crafting the character's voice and playing the part from the start, and by the second, full dub of Dragon Ball and going onward he's just nailed it, sounding more and more natural in the role the more he himself ages. He gives the character so much charm, humor, and stern seriousness when needed that it almost, almost, makes his dated old pervert shtick easy to overlook! The only other good Roshi voice is Kirk Thornton is the Bang Zoom Super dub, but even he can't quite hold a candle to McFarland's iconic take.

Chi Chi has mostly had fine VAs whose portrayls of her have worked for what the character calls for. Of particular note are Carol Anne Day, Lisa Ann Bailey, Lara Sadiq, Nicole Oliver, and Cynthia Cranz.

I only really like Dave "Squatch" Ward and Dave Petit as the Ox King. Kyle Hebert's not awful or anything, but his Ox King never sounded natural. Best you can say is that it's better than Mark Britten's take.

Likewise I only really like Elan Ross Gibson and Linda Young as Fortuneteller Baba (who had some male VAs voicing her a lot for whatever reason?), and only Brian Drummond and Mike McFarland for Yajirobe, though with a bias towards Drummond in the latter role since he got it down earlier and his delivery was more memorable. And I will remain forever insistent that Yajirobe is a Chris Sabat role he never got. Sabat's Kuwabara voice seems meant for the part!

It seems to be an unpopular opinion but I preferred Ward Perry to Dale Wilson as Kami Sama. And Dale was very good as Kami, mind you, but Ward Perry just has a natural gravitas in his voice and carries an aged god-like quality that makes his Kami voice my favorite. Third place goes to Chris Sabat, as it should be a natural choice to have Kami and Piccolo share a VA, but it took until the dub of Kai for Sabat to get it down. Beforehand, his Kami was too wheezy and like a younger man doing a weak impression of an old man.

I prefer Chris Casan to Chris Sabat as Mr. Popo, but prefer Alvin Sanders to them both. Sanders is the only VA to give that odd looking caricature any dignity, and him actually being black helped as well.

I will freely admit that Don Brown remains the definitive King Kai voice in my mind, as he most effectively balanced silly clownishness with an aged wisdom and dignity to him. Dean Galloway in the Blue Water GT dub and Michael McConnohie in the Bang Zoom Super dub are also excellent, with the latter sounding the most like the OG Japanese voice for Kai. Sean Schemmel....I've gotten used to his King Kai and he performs the part more competently nowadays when compared to how he started, but I still think the voice he goes for is just not what the character called for. It sounds too stupid, everyone has made fun of it. I mean, on literally day one of that early Captain Ginyu: Double Cross VHS release back in 1999, the friend who lent it to me had to warn me that this stupid voice was coming! That out of all the poor replacement Funimation voices, it had to be singled out as being particularly awful! So it's bizarre Sean's still kept with it.

Ward Perry and Chris Rager are the only good King Yamma voices.

Young Andrew Francis was the best and most natural voice for Young Dende, but Maxey Whitehead is definitely the next best thing. While Laura Bailey's Dende was well acted, the voice she used couldn't really disguise the fact that Dende's being voiced by a girl, unlike her Kid Trunks. The less said about Ceyli Juliann Delgadillo, the better. As for older Dende, only Justin Cook does it great.

Only Bill Jenkins got Grand Elder Guru down right. Robert O Smith's creepy Alfred Hitchcock voice didn't fit the large elderly Namekian and didn't even sound weary enough. Chris Sabat sounded more weary in Season 3 but was clearly a fake old man voice that didn't require much from him, and he sounded a lot worse in reprisals.

Chris Rager is Hercule Satan. It's the role that literally launched his career as a voice acting and he's never missed a beat in reprisals of the character. Jamieson Price in the Bang Zoom Super dub fits him very well too, even if he's naturally easily eclipsed by Rager. While I could get what Don Brown was going for with his take, I just don't like the performance - we all know the Ocean VA who should voice Mr. Satan is Trevor Devall, but that Kai dub they did was never released so we'll never know if he ended up doing it or not. And Dave Petit as Mr. Satan is such a massive letdown. You'd expect the dub VA for Master Asia to easily nail Mr. Satan, and yet he gave us THAT???

Kara Edwards is definitively Videl. She did great as her voice since she started voicing the role and has only gotten better by Kai. Monica Stori in the Westwood dub isn't bad per say, but I feel Myriam Sirois would've been the more obvious and better casting choice there. Erika Harlacher was spot on casting for the character but was sadly hampered by Super's lackluster Videl-in-name-only material.

I could never quite buy Laura Bailey's Erasa, as she sounded like a sweet Girl Next Door trying too hard to sound like a ditzy diva. Kelly Sheridan pulled off her voice more naturally in the Westwood dub, but Alexis Tipton in the Kai dub is easily the best of the bunch.

Bradford Jackson is the definitive Oolong voice, and it shouldn't even be close, yet Bryan Massey, Richard Newman, and surprisingly even Ray Chase give surprisingly close enough to match his portrayal. The only real opinion I can give is that as much as I enjoy Massey in the role, I think that after Jackson left the second time, they should've given the role to Jeremy Schwartz, who's an even closer soundalike.

Once he finally shook off the absurd Harvey Fierstein impression that Paul Dobson originated, Chris Sabat has played the best Korin. Roger Rhodes, Paul Bandey, and Theodore Lehmann also have very fitting voices for the old cat and they work in their own ways. Ted Cole is by far the most baffling to me, as he opted to play Korin like Garfield even though he was coming off of Dobson's Fierstein voice, creating a huge whiplash in what's meant to be the same character.

Speaking of Ted Cole, though, his Yamcha is still my personal favorite voice for the character. Sabat's Yamcha is fitting too, but can also grate on you after a while and it's more than a bit awkward to have Yamcha and Vegeta voiced by the same person. The other best sounding Yamcha would be Grant George in the Bang Zoom dub.

For whatever reason, Tienshinhan has barely recieved a good dub voice. John Burgmeier stands out as easily the best of the bunch, though Brendan Hunter and (yet again) Ray Chase are good as well.

Chuck Huber is the definitive Emperor Pilaf and I will accept no substitutes. Not even Don Brown, Dean Galloway, or Tom Fahn.

Kent Williams is easily the best Tao Pai Pai, but Doug McKeag in the Blue Water dub did a fittingly menacing yet campy take on him as well. Scott McNeil in the Westwood dub of DBZ is also entertaining to listen to, but giving an oriential dressed character with an oriental sounding name a Russian accent was...questionable.

While the older dub for Mystical Adventure is pretty cringe on the whole, it featured easily the most fitting vocal performance for Master Shen the Crane Hermit from the late, great Robert Axelrod. The only VA who comes even close to comparing would be Clark Robertson in the Blue Water dub. Chuck Huber comes in third place here, I never much liked his Shen, especially compared to his Pilaf.

Jason Gray Standford and Justin Cook have both given us equally perfect vocal portrayals of Raditz. Likewise, Michael Dobson and Phil Parsons are both solid as Nappa, though here I'd say the latter gets a definite edge over the former since he plays the role straight as the cruel, brutish and imposing Saiyan commando Nappa is meant to be, whereas Dobson delivered a lot of his lines in too juvenille a way.

Dodoria's voices in the Funimation dubs all work for him, but John Swasey is especially well cast as he effortlessly bridged the divide between the higher, raspy take by Paul Dobson and the deeper, throatier take by Chris Forbis into one pitch perfect voice.

J. Michael Tatum is the only VA for Zarbon who was just flawless in his approach and performances, so it sucks that he parted with the role once Mira became his main DB role to voice. Paul Dobson also did a kickass job, giving Zarbon a more masculine characterization than I think would be expected of him, though the Australian accent was certainly a choice. Chris Sabat has been all over the place here - he did a spot on Paul Dobson impression in Season 3 but then settled into a more refined, vaguely British sounding voice until suddenly he began doing his flamboyant, campy Ayame Sohma shtick for Zarbon and it sounded awful and ill-fitting. Now that he's got the role again he's notably improved once more, retaining the Ayame voice but changing up the delivery so that we buy Zarbon is actually taking shit seriously and so we're able to take him seriously.

The ideal lineup for the Ginyu Force would be Brice Armstrong as Ginyu, Vic Mignogna as Burter, Chris Sabat as Jeice, David Kaye as Recoome, and Terry Klassen as Guldo, as those were all the best fits for those characters. For Ginyu I also love Richard Newman, Richard Epcar, and R. Bruce Elliot's versions - Dale Kelly is the only one who flat out sucked, as he was horrendously misdirected and sounded like a generic big dumb goon or an evil Popeye the Sailor Man. Don Brown was a good establishing voice for Burter, and while Vic can no longer voice him for obvious reasons, I'm glad Sabat is doing better in channeling him rather than Mark Britten, who was the worst Burter. While I like Scott McNeil and Ernesto Jason Liebrecht's Jeices in their series' better than Sabat's, Sabat as Space Australia Jeice in all the video games has been the most entertaining. Obviously David Kaye's original Recoome can never quite be measured up to, but as of the Kai dub Chris Sabat finally found his footing with the role rather than doing a bad attempt at Kaye, a weird Schwarzenegger voice, or a painfully unfunny blithering retard stereotype voice like before. And while Bill Townsley did alright as Guldo, I think Greg Ayres really refined and perfected the whiney froggy voice he was going for.

Jason Douglas is the only VA to get King Cold down pat. Bradford Jackson's approach was a bit too literal-minded in sounding like a posh, faygala king and then transitioning 100% into a threatening thug when swinging the sword at Trunks. Michael Dobson just sounded like a generic evil brute. Douglas gets down the king quality, the cold quality, and the subtle menace all in a fairly deep voice that's just deep enough and aged enough to perfectly suit the character.

On the Androids...obviously Todd Haberkorn was best suited for 19 seeing as the competition was a high pitched racist stereotype voice speaking in monotone and Cathy Weseluck trying way too hard to sound like a big dumb fatso. Both Kent Williams and Brian Dobson were stellar as 20/Dr. Gero, but the former became especially suitable for the role with each reprisal of it he's done. It's no contest with 16, as even before his improvement for Kai and beyond, Jeremy Inman's voice fit better than Scott McNeil's overly done giant voice. And while Chuck Huber and Meredith McCoy are the most iconic and perfectly suited for 17 and 18, I think all the VAs to for the characters did good enough jobs, including Colleen Clinkenbeard's 18 in Kai.

Duncan Brannan did the best Babidi, it's not even remotely close.

Beerus and Whis are simply owned by Jason Douglas and Ian Sinclair, though I don't think John DeMita and Doug Erholtz in the Bang Zoom dub were awful, they just could've been directed better.

Champa, meanwhile, is a case where the short-lived Bang Zoom dub actually managed to outdo Funimation. Kirk Thornton fits Champa's appearance and personality better than Ernesto Jason Liebrecht, and it's not even close, though Caitlin Glass and Tamara Ryan do come close to each other as Vados: their voices and tone are both perfect.

James Marsters as Zamasu is just...if anything sells Zamasu as one of the all-time greats of villainy in Dragon Ball, that casting does.

I slightly prefer Don Brown as Garlic Jr. (his monologue upon gaining immortality really clinches it for me), but Chuck Huber also put in a tremendous effort to bring life to the role so that he seems a bit more than just a throwaway filler villain. Should he ever resurface, I think Bill Townsley ought to have a crack at voicing him, as his Babidi voice was closer to Huber's Garlic than to Duncan Brannan's Babidi.

Dr. Wheelo has three VAs and rather curiously falls into the exact same situation as the three VAs for Andross of Star Fox - one of them (R. Bruce Elliot) fits a big scary villain but doesn't carry much of an old scientist quality to him, while another (Douglas Rand) sounds like a mad scientist but carries virtually no menace in his acting. And then there's the one, Ward Perry, who gets it down juuuust right.

Turles is another great Ward Perry villain role, though more so in the uncut Pioneer release dub than the TV dub where he put on what sounded like a forced impression of Brian Drummond's Vegeta. Chris Patton didn't really carry the same quality to his take on Turles in the redub, but in the games to feature Turles afterwards, especially by Xenoverse 2, he's become just as definitive a Turles voice as Ward.

Jonny Yong Bosch as Broly > Vic Mignogna as Broly, come at me, but I'm right. Also, Paul Bandey was actually the significantly better (and more entertaining) fit for Paragus in the Big Green dub of Movie 8, but the more aged Dameon Clarke fit Super's Paragus far better.

This doesn't seem the common opinion, but for the GT version of Pan I think Caitlynne Medrek of the Blue Water dub > Elise Baughman of the Funimation dub. She sounds closer to the character's age and doesn't deliver most of her lines like she's half-yawning all the time. Similarly, Carol Anne Day > Amber Cotton as Valese in that show. You just can't go wrong with Carol Anne Day!

Bura, meanwhile, is a case of when the English VAs get better and better. Parisa Fakhri had a decent voice but was a notably wooden voice actress who never really committed to selling her characters. Leda Davies in the Blue Water dub had more energy and I'd argue she fit Bura better than she ever fit Bulma. Brina Palencia took over from Parisa for a cameo in Budokai Tenkaichi 2, delivering a similar voice saying more competently acted lines. Lauren Landa, who's been Bulla ever since the end of Kai, is easily the best Bura voice, as she gets down the right voice, right energy, and right line reads.

Lastly, let's talk about the Dragon himself. Don Brown, Chris Sabat, and Dave Petit are all top tier voices for Shenron, all making him sound believable as a mighty, magical wish-granting dragon diety. Sabat has become easily the most iconic out of them and he does wonderfully....but my personal favorite remains Don Brown. Partly because of that growl he has that's very Tiger Head Cave from Aladdin sounding and befitting a dragon, but also partly because it's Don Brown. Look at his resume, particularly as DB characters like many mentioned on here, and would you ever guess that was him?

[simplylove101]

FANFIC TAGGING GAME

I got tagged by my lovely bestie @backtothestart02. Thanks for thinking of me, hun. <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 11 (and at least 4 on ff.net, though I had a few I deleted as well, including my longest story on there out of embarrassment lol)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

168, 530 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

On Ao3, it was strictly Gertchase from Runaways (Marvel) but I've also written for Gossip Girl & Harry Potter as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Most of them are my earlier stuff but there's one that was more recent that people seemed to like my take on a scene. 1. A Place Isn't Home - it's my baby, my first dip into writing fic in YEARS & for a ship that I'd only just gotten into. I put a lot prep & care into it beforehand so I'll always be proud of it considering it's centered around one trope - sharing a bed. lol 2. Lost Moments - doesn't surprise me now since there were lots of missed opportunities for good Gertchase content in S2 so I just had to do a missing moments fic for them 3. Over & Over Again - inspired by the Runaways promo team releasing the first few minutes of S3 before the season dropped & gave me the opportunity to write in Chase's pov which I love since it's easy for me. 4. Maybe I'm Falling - based on the teased bed talk with Gertchase before S2 dropped (which is still a cute scene) but I kinda prefer my version lol And 5. It's Your Call - my two different takes on Gertchase's S2 kiss scene written right after the trailer had been released. And guess what? Neither one was at all like what we got. lmao

5. Do you respond to comments?

Most of the time. Considering kudos are usually the only way I know if people are liking a fic by me, getting any comments on one is kinda a big deal to me cuz I love getting them. lmao

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest ending... Well, even when I write angst, there's generally some kinda hope since I like to write angst with a purpose even if it cuts hard. But since you were my home but now i'm (so) lost is about Future Chase reflecting on Gert's death & deciding to save her, I guess that's the automatic answer. But also, Lost Moments technically since it ends with Gert deciding to get over Chase after his betrayal (I was proud of that chapter tbh)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ummm, basically the majority of them are happy like I said. lol Maybe I'm Falling is the purest tho since the whole thing is fluffy. hell was the journey but it brought me heaven was pretty cute too imo.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not on Ao3 since like I said, I hardly get comments as it is. But on ff.net... Trust me, I got some flames. It wasn't pretty. lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Before I wrote love doesn't know what distance is, the answer would have been a hard no. Mostly because I would always chicken out before I even got started. lol Somehow I convinced myself to get it a proper try on that fic and I didn't hate it??? Do I think I'm the best at it? Still no. But I'm not as scared now. It's pretty basic but at least I did it. lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not with my Gertchase fics cuz I suck at that kinda thing but during my Harry Potter days I used to experiment with AU ideas that never went too far before I deleted them. I remember I was gonna use a Real World (yes, the reality show lol) concept for a Harry/Ginny fic that never made it passed Chap 1. lmao

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh, this is so hard these days because younger me would always say Chuck/Blair and they are still up there.... I think Cole/Cassie from 12 Monkeys might be my most epic ship tho, despite me never having written for them before (I wouldn't know where to start tbh) And my heart will always belong to Ron/Hermione too. I love Gertchase but at the end of the day they might actually be more of a top 10 ship for me, I just am able to be inspired to write for them.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The ultimate WIP for Gertchase for me is a post-canon fic that initially was gonna be just a simple proposal but then I wanted to include other stuff like Gert getting pregnant, etc. so it could be a mini fic. But I've just never written it because of lost inspiration (the real life drama of the cast did kinda taint the show a bit at one point but also, the fandom's pretty dead too) That said, never say never. Maybe one day I'll do it. There's scenes I had written for it that I still have somewhere so it's possible. We'll see. lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. lol I know it is because that's how I start writing my fics. I tend to write scenes out like a script first because it's how I'm able to start visualizing the rest of it. Rarely does a fic of mine not start with a quote or at least a train thought by a character. I also like to think that when I do write angst I'm not afraid to go for the jugular so to speak because it's meant to hurt BUT I do always want it to have a purpose and move the story along. Also, apparently when I'm really feeling a chapter I'm not afraid to have a big word count. I can't help it. lol

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The actual writing process. lol It doesn't always come naturally to me. I don't usually write anything all in one go unless I'm truly feeling it. Also, descriptive stuff. There's a reason why dialogue is my strength. It's writing around all that I struggle with a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Um, it's intimidating. lol I did consider doing it a few times because Gert is fluent in Spanish & she was supposed to tutor Chase for it so I always thought it would be fun to tease that in a fic or two but never did. I don't want to get the translation wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. Because I was obsessed with Ron/Hermione. And yet if you looked at my old ff.net account you'd assume it was Harry/Ginny because I deleted all my RHr related fics. lol

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Omg, the hardest question. lol Most of them are all my bbs for different reasons. I do think my mini The College Woes trilogy is some of my strongest work to date tho because all of that is pure me going for it since it's all post-canon. I did research and had fun with the process.

Anyway, I don't really have anyone to tag myself because I don't know who follows me and wants to answer these questions but hey, if you write fic and see this, consider yourself tagged! Also, even tho I haven't written in a while & might never again in the foreseeable future, if you like Gertchase, my A03 account is When_the_Day_Met_Night21 :)

[magiccifi]

I just saw the new teaser that was released at some sort of convention and I’m not elated nor am I unhappy…I’m pleased to hear/see more tho!

Here are some things that I’m hoping with the reboot so far (or just simply thinking about):

Warning potential spoilers!!!

I hope that the animation gets polished a bit more; I’m very hopeful on this considering the show isn’t coming out til next year, and any sort of developing polishes a product as time goes on, even if the deadline is soon

I have already seen people be a bit concerned about the mention of social media, with I also am a bit; it’s important to remember that winx came out during a time in which MySpace was very popular and Facebook was both a rising platform and at some point in the winx running time THE social media to be on, which was not really that reflected in the show; so I’m hopeful that social media and it’s presence will either a) be limited to earth and magix/alfea doesn’t have much or b) the creators won’t lean to heavily into it but will be present in magix/alfea

I definitely can see the girls having their own social media accounts, but I don’t think that social media will be too heavily present considering the winx is all about being fairies and defeating evil with friends and you don’t have much time being an influencer doing all that

I do think we have to accept that social media overall has a much heavier presence in the life of people, inducing children (which I do think make up a core of the target demo of the show, accept it or not 🤷🏾‍♀️) compared to the 2000s; it makes sense that it will be at least mentioned here and there

if the reboot gets far, pls do not kill nabu 😫 I didn’t get that far into winx just yet, but I hate that he dies nevertheless

While I’m not the biggest fan or hater of the animation/style of the girls, idk how well it will look on the specialists…

I was very repulsed when bloom smiled at mitzi in the clip, did not like that at all; I pulled the same face when she smiled when I played totk and that one cutscene shows ganondorf’s big ass feet ew; that part of the animation is really off putting…so no more smiling!

I do like that it seems that bloom’s background as a normal girl will be shown before she learns about being a fairy; it also gives us a better idea of mitzi in terms of a school bully rather than some weirdo that is mean to some girl on the street lol

THE LOGO IS STUNNING!!! 10/10 BEST PART OF THE ENTIRE TEASER

look at it!!! (Got the pic from user @/wingsofthe on Twitter)

I saw the prototype of the same scene and have to say, prefer the prototype more but I’ll keep an open mind until the show is actually out; the hair is 100% an improvement tho

with the expectation that the reboot will be good and do well, I demand to have comics similar to manga volume style, not the small thin ones; imagine how beautiful they could be 😍

…someone on Twitter pointed out that Sirius black’s (ya know from Harry Potter) wanted poster can be seen in the background of the bathroom scene…they wildin’ in Italy 😀

Could be a little wink to the German dub referencing Harry Potter in season 1 lol

Someone on Twitter also made a point about Stella being the fairy of the sun AND THE MOON; hope the reboot focuses on Stella’s relationship with her mother and the adjunct powers in the same way they did with her and her father

Anyways the winx are back baby!!!

[oscarupsets]

Hello, 1960s! New decade, new vibes.

Widely acclaimed Best Picture winner The Apartment left me upset-less for this year. While critics are lukewarm about the other nominees, one source did hint towards another fan-favorite: Psycho.

I will not hide it, I LOVE The Apartment. I think it's the humor that gets to me. There's also something Jack Lemmon brings to his characters that is just SO good. He's quirky, he's funny, I just can't explain it. Caught between Lemmon and past-Upset star Fred MacMurray, Shirley MacLaine delivers an equally endearing performance.

Released 20 years after his Best Picture winner Rebecca, Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho is one of his many later films that missed out a Best Picture nomination.

In 1960, Psycho was groundbreaking in terms of violence and sex in film. The violence in question is some stabbing that doesn't actually produce wounds, while the sex is two unmarried people sharing a bed. Not knocking it, just interesting how far we've come from 1960.

The production also felt groundbreaking for the time, especially the camera angles. They were all over the place and super fun, especially the really low shots and the birds-eye-like staircase shots.

Alfred Hitchcock implemented strict standards during the showings of Psycho. People were not allowed to be admitted into the theater once the film had begun, and even pay-per-view equivalent televisions would not allow viewers to start a showing after the start time.

The Apartment was the most nominated and awarded film of the night at the 33rd Academy Awards. And while the actors missed out on wins at the Oscars, they were thankfully recognized previously at the Golden Globes and the BAFTAs. Psycho's one major award for the season came from the Golden Globes for Janet Leigh.

Psycho was not named as a Top 10 Film by the National Board of Review in 1960, but has been recognized alongside The Apartment in many other, more recent lists.

Unofficial Review: I enjoyed both very much, but I still prefer The Apartment. This should not, however, dismiss the impact Psycho had on film!

[aesthetic-uni]

While everyone else is watching season 4 of Lego Monkie Kid, which just released in dub version, I am watching THE VERY BEGINNING

Yeah I just started Lego Monkie Kid, and I very much regret not starting it sooner, and I wish I had heard about it sooner. Oh well, better late than never I suppose

I don’t know if I’ll review all the episodes, but I’ll at least review A Hero Is Born

First off let me rave about the animation: This is amazing. I haven’t watched anything else lego-wise, so I don’t know if it’s usual for them to have stellar animation, but this is literally some of the most amazing animation I have ever seen-and I have seen a lot of animation. It’s just, every single scene is so fluid and fun, and the scenes where they are not are stylized to be fun gags that perfectly display the emotions of the characters. And even if the animation wasn’t amazing, the way they have built (hehe) this Lego world is so beautiful. Everything looks so gorgeous and has this absolutely beautiful stylized look that I would say is on par with Spiderverse and Puss In Boots. In case I’m not clear, I’m just saying that how they design everything fits so perfectly when thinking about the media they actually come from. Like yeah this is how I would think a Lego world would look like! And oh my god the colors! They so bright and fun and work perfectly when you consider almost everyone in this world is yellow! It’s just such a beautiful show to look at! I haven’t seen the whole thing but I have to say right now, one of my favorite scenes is just MK delivering noodles and driving around this city, ugh I love it.

Okay so let’s start with the characters: I really enjoyed them all! I loved Mei so much,and I’ve only heard good things about her so I can’t wait to see more of her! Red Son was a fantastic funny villain, while I did enjoy his parents as more serious villains. I think I prefer Princess Iron Fan as a villain, she just seems a bit more grounded and serious compared to DBK who’s kinda over the top (like father like son!), but who knows maybe that will change. PIGSY AND TANG!!! I fucking adored them. Already I ship them, but every scene I see them I can’t help but think of their counterparts and laugh at how not them they are acting. And yeah, I absolutely love Dadsy, he cares so much for MK in this one episode and you can tell. And for Sandy, he’s adorable obviously but I just want to see him snap. I don’t know why but I really just want to see him fucking destroy something. I’m really disappointed I didn’t get to see much of Sun Wukong. Like I know it’s MK story but I’ve seen so much stuff of Sun Wukong I want to him to be here already dammit! Also yeah he’s definitely hiding more than he’s letting on. Now to MK! I love him. This is MY son and EVERYONE is required to be nice to him! He’s just a fun character, he reacts to things in such a normal way I absolutely love it. I can’t wait to see more of him.

Also, this episode was just hilarious. I loved all the jokes and visual gags. My favorite joke has to be during the race scene when Red Son pulls out the motorcycle and is like “You think I would build just one car!” AND HOLDS UP LEGO INSTRUCTIONS LMAO

Plot was, basic. The only thing I found really compelling was Princess Iron Fan, I’m not going to lie. I didn’t dislike it, it’s just a standard pilot plot so I didn’t care for it. I think I liked the first half more than the second half, because after Bull Demon King gets his armor, everything just goes so fast that I stopped really caring.

Now, my main problem with the episode is just, it was so incredibly rushed. Which listen I get it I do! It’s only one hour and they have to introduce the main conflict, introduce the whole cast, actually get the main conflict, actually get the resolution, and solve the main conflict. That’s hard to do with full length films, of course it’s going to be rushed. But, it did make it less enjoyable for me. I don’t know maybe it’s just a me thing, but I hope as I watch the seasons they’re able to slow down the story a lot more. Also, yes I know it’s a Lego show, but my god did they put so many obvious “we made this in order to make a toy” scenes! I get they have to sell toys but there was just way too many for one episodes. I hope they’re at least spread out in the next season.

And that’s my review! Sorry it’s not very put together, I was mostly just writing down whatever came to my mind about the episode. I might do season by season reviews, or a few episodes at a time. Either way I think this show might be a new favorite of mine and I’m excited where to go!

Also a few things: I don’t care for spoilers, and I have actively spoiled myself with this show. I also joined the fandom way before I even watched the show. You guys just make way too cool fanarts and edits Dammit! Anyway I don’t care if you spoil me in the comments lol, I probably won’t even realize what you are talking about until I get to that scene so, it’s all good

[adultswim2021]

Moral Orel #36: “Dumb” | October 30, 2008 - 12:15AM | S03E06

Dumb takes place during School Pageant and Nature parts one and two. It begins with Joe, Orel’s delinquent friend, returning home from the school pageant. His father, the way-too-elderly Dr. Secondopinionson, couldn’t make it. He’s too old to move. Joe is a dick about it, and his allegedly middle-aged half-sister (the adultswim.com description calls her this, canon disputed?), who has a traditionally masculine voice.

That last bit is a little contentious in times where more people are aware of transgender issues. In a previous episode, she was Principal Fakey’s receptionist, and we heard her through what appeared to be a tinny-sounding speaker, but when they cut to hear speaking on the receiver she’s seen pinching her nose, the actual reason for the bad sounding speaker. I don’t think the intent of the joke was to mock transgender people, it was just meant to add another layer to the previous joke. That probably doesn’t keep the portrayal from being uncomfortable for some viewers, but eyyyy what can you do? Hope that detached nihilistic irony comes back into fashion one more time before the world ends, I guess.

Nurse Bendy calls Joe’s sister. It turns out she calls her to keep tabs on Joe so she can use biographic details on her own ersatz child, Sonny. We saw her talking to her teddy bear family in a previous episode, Alone. From here, Joe winds up going on a journey to reunite with his mother, whom he was told died during child birth. He finds out from Coach Stopframe that this isn’t the case. He eventually meets Nurse Bendy, said to be his actual mom. He likes her youth and her filthy ‘tude. The two begin to bond, and she takes him to her apartment to meet her teddy bear family. He disrespects them, sticking his tongue out at Sonny and what not. He fucked with the wrong hombre in that regard, for Sonny can dish it out exactly as hard with a simple squeeze. Sonny and Joe…  they are quarreling!

Joe beats the shit out of his father out of anger, but this is played sorta for laughs as it happens in the background. He tries to go back to Bendy’s apartment and sees Sonny in the trash. He finds her at work and she explains she threw him out because he didn’t work anymore, and that she hoped Joe could be her Sonny. The episode ends with Joe and Bendy imitating Sonny’s retractable tongue. It's heartwarming as fuck. Credits roll. 

This is a really great episode which demonstrates how this show managed to transform itself into something soulful and emotionally affecting while staying entirely in character. The style of joke-writing, the characterization, the absurdly hyperbolic explosion of anger displayed by Joe when he beats up his dad, it’s all very much in line with what Moral Orel has always been. The ending is heartwarming and sweet. The episode is scored by “Failsafe” by The Choir Practice, which is also a New Pornographers song. It’s written by Carl Newman from New Pornographers, but The Choir Practice version was actually recorded and released first if wikipedia is to be trusted. I think I prefer the version in this episode. It just sounds so beautiful in this episode. 

There are continuity tie-ins: We see Orel before and after the hunting trip. We also see Bloberta clutching Dr. Potterswheel’s handkerchief. Joe’s fear of getting old is explored a little more, which was most recently alluded to in Orel’s Movie Premiere. Nurse Bendy’s teddy bear family was first introduced in Alone from earlier in the season (I already mentioned this, but I struggled to think of a third thing). 

One dark thing to note is that the script for an unproduced episode, “Narcissism”, reveals that Nurse Bendy is 24, which means that she gave birth to Joe at the age of 12, which means Joe’s father prooooooooooooobably deserved his beating. It might potentially explain Nurse Bendy’s arrested development. 

These episodes take place in different moments in the chronology of events of Moralton surrounding Orel’s hunting trip. Some of them, like this one, take place across a span of them. And it’s fun trying to untangle it all. But this episode and Alone sorta tell me that trying to perform an actual fanedit of the show, attempting to make a movie or something out of these highly-connected episodes, would ultimately be a failure. Seeing Nurse Bendy’s traumatic freak out in the middle of these scenes probably wouldn’t enhance the story of Joe and her connecting to one another as mother and son. They’re probably better off as two separate things. But I’ll still download it and watch it if you make one. Just saying.

44 NIGHTS OF OREL

The 44 Nights of Orel was an event where Adult Swim showed the entire series in a special running order where continuity-specific old episodes were meant to enhance the season three premieres.

This episode was preceded by Elemental Orel, because it shows Joe’s Elderly father (for the first time?). After that was Holy Visage, which Dino says they went too gross with the wound (I agree!) but this episode shows Joe’s father working as a doctor, hence it's inclusion.

[mistyheartrbs]

thinking a lot of thoughts about the wilds and how it completely fumbles its own bag in s2

like. season one is laser-focused on the horrors of teenage girlhood. it’s spelled out in leah’s first voiceover in the pilot - just being a teenage girl in america is so traumatizing that these kids genuinely found being stranded on a remote island with a bunch of strangers and no hope of rescue preferable to it. 

the girls are all victims of circumstance; we see over and over in the flashbacks that they barely have any agency, that they’re being kicked around by people and forces bigger than themselves, that even when they hurt people whether intentionally (nora) or unintentionally (shelby) it’s because of the larger societal forces around them. and it’s hard to watch and it’s what makes the island sequences feel like a release; here they are, thriving despite it all. 

and there’s a reason that nora’s story is the last one we see (in addition to the more obvious of it needing to happen after the big reveal) - because to some degree we get it. we’ve spent the entire season watching the unsinkable eight experience such awful things, nora herself is grieving her friend and she’s seen her sister waste away, of course she’d listen to anyone promising something better (and gretchen is absolutely preying on this), so we don’t hate nora as much as we might’ve otherwise. 

the boys kind of. make everything worse. because after seeing this group of girls go through the absolute wringer for an entire season it’s hard to make us care about these new characters at all, but especially not when they

and there are awful expectations of masculinity, teenage boyhood is, i’m sure, its own kind of nightmare, but 1) there are plenty of shows that already examine this 2) the wilds was not about that 3) it’s not even a reasonable equivalence because by and large the situations the boys ended up in during their flashbacks were their own faults. they’re not victims of anything larger at play frankly even when it would make sense if they were - instead of meaningfully examining the difficulties faced by, for example, a Black gay boy in the middle of texas, the show delivered a weird muddled message about...social media? and cancellation?? the writers were facing an uphill battle even bringing boys into the show in the first place, i’m really not sure why they made the choice to have them be so unlikable. 

also. it’s weird that they proved gretchen right. like “here’s our villain who set up a bogus experiment to showcase a simplistic girls good boys bad dichotomy wherein the girls are expected to be natural caregivers and the boys are expected to tear each other apart.” okay. “the outcome of her bogus experiment was that the girls cared for each other and the boys tore each other apart.” why would you do that. like just don’t put the boys in there then.

i’m bummed that the show got cancelled when it obviously had more story to tell, but, god, wouldn’t it have been easier for them to just. not take away what made it compelling in the first place.