#and you're not even that good at the job all of us are here to do

[ariaste]

Hello, professional author here. I agree with mmmmooost of the above (certainly agree with the general idea that you should free your mind from worrying anxiously about the audience too much, DEFINITELY agree with practicing engaging with a piece of art on its own terms) but I have a couple philosophical quibbles to.... well, quibble about.

First of all, the black-and-white framing of the dichotomy of "pushing a product" (coded here as a Bad Thing, perhaps even a Contemptible Thing) versus "creating a work of art" (coded here as a Good Thing, perhaps even an Admirable Thing). For one thing, these two states aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. I think that what the above poster meant by the word "product" was probably "cheap corporate shit with nothing to say and no intention or care behind it except to make money", except.... There is this myth in our culture that artists shouldn't ever worry about money at all, that you should make art purely for the love of it, etc etc. This myth is the justification that those big corporations use to defend their decision to underpay creatives (e.g. writers, animators, voice actors, visual artists, etc etc etc etc). Like, the whole AI art thing that's happening right now is linked to the brutal devaluing of artistic labor. I'm a professional author; my work is my job, and my work is valuable and worthy of fair compensation. So I do want to gently push back against the implication that an artist can't or shouldn't ever think of their art as a product (and here I am using the word "product" in its more neutral sense of simply "a thing that can be sold for money"). If we as professional artists want to fight back against the corporate exploitation of art, we HAVE to start valuing our artistic work, understanding the ins and outs of the business, and defending both our right and the rights of our colleagues to earn a living from the job.

So let's rephrase "pushing a product" to a more neutral term, one that's actually used in the publishing industry: "Writing to a market".

Here is the thing that I want to point out for any aspiring authors... "Writing to a market" versus "writing for yourself" is not an either-or situation, but a SPECTRUM. There are many circumstances where you actually do NEED to consider the audience -- if you're writing children's picture books, for example, then I damn well hope you're writing for your audience, because your audience has very particular unique needs that have to be served. "Writing to a market" is also used for things like the romance genre (please note that this too is often WILDLY devalued and considered contemptible in our society, and that is 100% because of misogyny committed by people of all genders) -- a romance book has a structure to it the same way that a sonnet has a structure, and if it does not follow that structure, then it is simply not a sonnet, but some other kind of poem. Knowing those genre conventions is part of writing to a market. Even just saying "I'm going to write this book for all the 16 year old girls who, like me, really wanted the princess to slay the dragon" is writing to a market -- but it is ALSO sincere and genuine and authentic to you yourself.

Imagine an actor on stage. They MUST do some thinking about their audience -- where are they standing? Can they be seen, or are they hidden (either could be important)? Are they speaking loudly enough to be heard or are they making the audience strain to hear them (these too could be important, depending)? Are they getting the timing of this joke right so that the audience laughs? For a professional author, generally the baseline "thinking about the audience" things you do are: 1) age bracket and 2) genre. Like, where is your book going to be shelved in the bookstore so people can find it?

And that's how I know that Miyazaki in the above screenshot is... being a LITTLE hyperbolic. He doesn't NEVER consider the audience (I daresay that he knows that one category of his audience is "people who love animation", for example) -- he just doesn't let his ANXIETY about the audience rule his creative decision making. He does not let the audience and their expectations/demands become the tyrants of his art.

So it's a spectrum, not an either-or -- there are definitely people who are hard at one end of the spectrum or the other (on one hand, people who ARE producing soulless AI-generated corporate drivel, and on the other hand, people who are making the WEIRDEST art you have EVER seen, truly and aggressively pushing the limit of "can this be understood or related to by even one single other human being"), but there is an ocean of fuzzy grey shades in the center, and I for one did not realize that until I was knee-deep in it.

You don't have to Never Consider The Audience in order to be an artist. But I would recommend, at minimum, setting some healthy boundaries in your own head between yourself and the audience. Decide what they do and don't get to say to you. Decide what kind of treatment you will and won't put up with. Decide how much you're prepared to allow your work to be impacted by your imaginary worries about what someone else might think (What will your mother say if you paint that nude portrait? What will the internet say if you tell that story? What will some rando on twitter say if you post that photograph?).

Here is where I'm at on the Death of the Audience spectrum, at least for right now (this might change over time, but that's okay. I get to change my mind as much as I want). Put beneath a cut because it was starting to get a little long...

For me, writing a book is like inviting a few people over to my house for a nice home-cooked dinner. I'm going to make sure there is food enough to feed them; I'm going to make sure that it is nourishing and well-cooked to the best of my ability; I'm going to invite them into my home and welcome them to a seat on the couch and offer them a drink (tea? fancy little cocktail? can of soda? glass of water, with or without ice?). I'm going to communicate what's in each dish and have a variety of options, so that the people at my table can pick the things they like and avoid the things they dislike (or have allergies to, or that their doctor advised them to avoid, or that they're not eating for personal ethical reasons, etc etc).

But here's the other thing. The dinner guests don't get to decide what I'm putting on the table. I'm going to cook dishes that I like (because I'm the one having to cook them, and I'm the one living with the leftovers!). More than that, I'm going to cook dishes that I'm confident about -- by which I mean that I'm going to practice a brand-new recipe in private for a while, just in case it goes wrong, before I put it on the table for guests. Now, that said, if a very dear friend texted in advance of the dinner party, "Hey, could you make those garlicky mashed potatoes again? I LOVED them" then I might listen to them -- but then again, I might already have my own menu plan. (Sorry, friend! But the compliment is accepted with love and gratitude, as a compliment, rather than as a demand.) I'm always trying to expand my skills as a cook and exploring new recipes and techniques, but I'm going to do that on my schedule. Nobody gets to tell me when my pumpkin spice cream puff recipe has been perfected enough to be presentable -- that's between me and the kitchen gods. This ain't a restaurant, after all, it's my home!

If someone wanders in off the street to eat at my table, then they are welcome to all the hospitality of my house. But if they don't like the food or if I didn't make their favorite dish, I'm not going to let that ruin my day. They opted in when they crossed the threshold and came inside, and they can opt out just as easily if I'm not serving what they like. I am not the only source of food in the whole world, so they're not going to starve if I keep doing my thing and ticking off things from the list on my fridge and swearing under my breath because I forgot to season the green beans before I put them in the oven to roast and now I'll have to wing it with a savory sauce or something to put on them instead.

A VERY EXTENDED AND POSSIBLY CONFUSING METAPHOR but I hope you see the shape of what I'm getting at here. Again, this philosophy might change in the years to come. But for now, this is the amount of consideration that I give the audience. Your mileage may vary! :)

fuck an "intended audience" how about we normalize engaging with new and unfamiliar art pieces on their own terms

[pricesprincess]

from this ask | 1.4k wc | smut mdni | incest | dark content | breeding | daddy kink (you say dad as well) | milestone event

"mom!" your stomps could shake the entire house from anger as you came down the stairs, your face twisted in annoyance from the bathroom sink being covered in wiry dark brown beard hair, again.

it was the third time this week you've voiced your distaste loud enough that john, your stepdad could hear you but it didn't matter. it was obvious he loved getting under your skin and riling you up.

your mom leaned against the counter dressed in a blouse and slacks with heels that scream businesswoman. ever since the divorce she went through a phase of getting a whole new job and work harder.

her spending time away from home also came with the new job, her time was solely for trips and business dinners and since you were busy with renovating the pool house in the back for your own place you spent a lot of time decorating and getting everything in order.

john also came with the new job, her version was that they met at a coffee place that she frequents but to him, it's the grocery store but wherever they met was where they fell in love you suppose.

"i don't have time for this honey, i have to get to work. breakfast is in the oven, i'll see you later tonight you two." your mom told you with a kiss on the cheek and a hug for john who used only one arm.

clearly, they were having issues and you could tell. john opted to sleep on the couch when she stayed the night here and when she didn't he sometimes would crawl into your bed for some cuddles.

your plush body melded so perfectly to him he had to remind you time and time again how you were made for him, and that's all that ever happened even though you wanted your stepdad, badly.

was it gross? maybe.

but did you care? hell no.

not when he was sad and lonely, the way he held you and nuzzled his face into the softness of your neck as he groped your hips and just holding you close to him, back to chest that way he could enjoy your scent that wafted around him like a morning haze. soft and sweet.

you couldn't even remember the last time it was when you had someone to hold you and to banter back and forth with, which isn't an excuse but you were only a human who craved attention.

the moment the door clicked close you turned to john with a look that could kill, your upper lip curling. "must you do that? you need to shave outside since you're a bear, hairy all over the place." you huffed.

john's grin widened as he placed his coffee cup down bringing your attention to his attire, a loose t-shirt, and sweats where you could see the outline of what he had to offer. "want to shave for me then?"

"i'd rather shave a rat's ass before helping you." you hissed annoyed with the hair you'd have to clean up once more. he chuckled and brushed past you with a wink before heading up the stairs.

your bratty attitude was like red flares as you stomped back upstairs to the guest bedroom making a show of cleaning the hair. "i don't think your mum spanked you enough since you act like this at your grown age." john murmured when he appeared in the doorway.

warmth flushed through your entire body as you felt the flame of desire meltdown to sap that flowed through your veins like honey. "have a baby with her then if you want to discipline someone." you shot back with a fake smile hating the idea of that.

john took that as an invitation and stepped inside the bathroom shutting the door even though there was no need for it, his look was predatory as his eyes drank you in, your pussy almost ate your cotton sleeping shorts and nestled between warm plush thighs.

years of yearning and subtle touches boiled over igniting the room with the heat of desire and need. "i don't have any kids of my own so you're going to be a good girl and help me with that, aren't you?"

your eyes went wide and your jaw went slack as a second heartbeat came to life in your clit, you ached to be touched by him. you couldn't say anything but step forward to crush your lips to his quickly.

they were warm and a bit dry but flavored with coffee which you tasted more when your tongue glided against his as john drew you closer in an embrace that made you feel like jelly as he held you.

his hands went down to your ass, groping and massaging the globes as he rutted against you before he was pushing you against the counter. "gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy." john rasped as his mouth moved to your neck and chest.

while his lips suckled on your pulse point his fingers drifted along the bottom hem of your shirt before he slid his palms under the fabric to pinch and twist your nipples into stiff peaks, tweaking the pleasure that zipped up your spine. "don't tease me dad, i want you so bad."

"no daddy? you're a nasty girl who needs to keep her mouth occupied." without any words you dropped to your knees pawing at the band of his sweats to pull them down freeing his fat cock.

you parted your mouth and leaned forward eager to suckle the tip to hear him hiss and grip the counter as he leaned over you and bullied his dick to the back of your throat making you sputter wetly.

john held your head still and fucked your mouth as you kneeled so prettily for him, his cock throbbed on your tongue that you used to lave every warm and silky inch of skin while you cupped his sack.

there was no thinking about anything else or how this was wrong on many levels you just didn't care, not when john looked at you like you were his own personal pornstar ready to do whatever it is.

your eyes flicked up to him and you smiled with them as you gagged around his cock, your fist jerking off whatever was left that you couldn't suck on as you bobbed up and down giving him your all.

before he busted in your mouth and ruined his load john pulled you off him with a wet pop, and then he helped you up while you shucked your shorts off and hopped up on the counter spreading your legs.

john met your heated gaze as he stood between your thighs, your pussy slick and pretty as it glistened under the light. unable to help himself he thumbed your clit softly and sucked your essence off it.

"fuck me please, dad." you begged, your hands busy squeezing your breasts as you batted your eyelashes at john with a sweet pout.

"you're making it hard not to darlin'." he muttered and fisted the base of his dick to slap the tip of it against you with a chuckle hearing you moan then he afforded you the pleasure by thrusting just the head in.

it was enough to make your eyes go wide as you gripped his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist pulling him forward giving him no chance to go anywhere as he bottomed out.

john growled in your ear feeling your wet heat so tight around his cock. "you're going to be such a pretty momma." he cooed in your ear as he found a slow pace making sure you felt how he throbbed in you.

you felt so full of him.

the bathroom filled with your pants that fogged the mirror as he folded you up more and fucked you deeper, your knees pressed back as he held your thighs obscenely wide open for his viewing pleasure.

he watched as you coated his cock with a creamy white sheen that made him groan deep in his chest, moving one hand he pressed down on your lower tummy savoring your soft squeals.

your orgasm ripped open causing you to cry out and knock over the bottles as you gasped and writhed under him when his thumb joined in to circle your clit making your cunt spasm around john.

it wasn't long before his hips were stuttering and his own climax rose high and crashed over him sending tingles down his spine as he coated your walls with a thick load that he kept you plugged up with.

john held you close to him as you both came down from your highs that cleared your head. "we should probably start crib shopping." he whispered in your ear before he pulled out and kept you plugged.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Ghost and his marriage problems w/ you

part 1: Price | Masterlist here! | Inspo playlist here! Angst to comfort

Ghost is a man of few words, the comment of it being 'few and far between' used too often to describe him and his stand-off demeanor with you in public.

Though, he cares not for those things, only ever lending an ear for you only.

Yet you wished he did when manhandles a man that was only trying to talk to you about baked goods you were selling.

You slammed your front door closed after Simon went ahead inside and paced around the living room, before settling on a chair once he hears you stomp in.

"What the fuck was that Simon?"

You seethed, pissed off at how Simon was so quick to assume things, turning things to an eleven when it didn't to be-- making an issue at a situation you were very well handling yourself already.

"He got too close," he grunts with a shrug, "too suspicious for someone just 'asking' a question."

You rubbed your face roughly.

You think maybe he was emotionally and socially stunted but no, he was able to conduct himself just fine at his jobs and during missions-- what the fuck is he on right now?

"What kinda bullshit is that?" You scoffed at him and he huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees yet still making eye contact with you.

"You..." He starts but then breaks off, sighing and ruffling his hair.

Simon wanted to choose his words carefully. He couldn't say it was gut feeling that he gets when someone gets too close to hurt you.

As a soldier, he was trained to always be on his toes, and that type of behavior becomes hard to rub off when all he thinks of is protecting you whenever you guys go out.

He knows that no one knows how his face looks like out in public, but he is still scared-- haunted by the notion, or even the thought of you getting hurt as a means of revenge to get back at him.

He knows his records aren't clean and he isn't proud of some of the things he did either, but he knew it was worth it when the world could have its bits and pieces of peace from it-- especially if you were, and you still had that same gleaming smile whenever you greet him home.

So he tries to keep that all away, to keep the peace, and most importantly-- to keep you happy.

Even if that required him to be on guard 24/7, always wary of the things going on in your life and working double to make sure you were alright.

Even if it gets him the short end of the stick, getting the brunt of your anger.

"He..." he licks his dried out lips, "...he looked like he had ulterior motives, hun."

You stomp to him, hands grabbing his face as you stared down at him, eyes so pointed and open that there were unshed tears at the end of it.

"And who are you to be the judge of that?"

He bites his lip, sucking in a breath, and he just wants to speak--

"Because I've been onto him."

"...What-?"

You were breathless for a moment, letting go of Simon as he whispered words that made it cloudier-- made him more vague and so stubbornly confusing.

But when he doesn't reply for moments after that, you ask him what he meant by that. What he wants to mean by that-- because all these conjured up thoughts swirling in your head were doing no good for the position you were putting Simon in inside your head.

"Simon please..." you breathed out in resign, "...just tell me."

Yet he doesn't.

He sits there, ever so still.

And you think he's stuck like that if it wasn't for the constant soft crunching of his gloves as he grips and releases it.

If it weren't for his chest heaving up and down-- you would have thought you lost him.

"If you're not gonna talk, I'm leaving." You decided, having enough of working today and just... all of this with Simon.

You love him, you truly do, but him shutting himself like this is just so exhausting-- and you couldn't take another moment of it.

"Wait."

His voice rings loud enough from the doorway, where you already putting on your shoes, and you pause, letting him have a couple seconds to follow-up.

"...Its cold out, grab your coat."

You huff, slamming your shoes down again for the second time tonight. Luckily, there weren't your favorite pair, but they'd understand if its them dealing with as stubborn of a partner like Ghost right? You could only amusedly think so for a moment before going close to Ghost, glaring down at him while his face was turned downwards to the floor, no longer making eye-contact with you.

"'s that all you're gonna say to me?"

You ask again, giving him another chance, another out for him just to get it off his chest-- to just,

"FUCKING TALK SIMON!"

Your breaths are heavy and from the way Simon didn't even flinch nor move, you decided to forego that chance. To just leave and--

"He was stalking you."

You turn to him again, facing him with less intensity that you thought when you finally see him.

He's disgruntled, hair a mess, mask and gloves off, disheveled clothing-- face so scrunched with lines, you'd think he was carving the wrinkles on his face permanently.

You wait, nodding at him to continue-- not trusting your own voice at the moment to convince him to keep talking.

Simon breaths in deep.

He had no choice.

It was either he lets you leave him (and fuck him and everything he lives for if he just lets you do so without him even trying) or he talks, and shows... everything and risk you leaving either way.

If both ends at the same conclusion, fuck him for throwing caution to the wind and giving one last damn shot to keep you by his side.

"Remember when you got that weird text?" He starts off and once he sees you nod in confirmation, he continues. "Thought I should look into it."

"I told you it was just spam." You mutter and you see him shake his head, muttering a small- "not to me."

And you kept your mouth shut at that.

"Once I did," he gulps, "started seeing all the nasty shit he had on his computer and what he planned to do..." he paused, breath coming out steady.

"...once he got to you today."

You feel like a bucket of ice cold water just got splashed onto your face, your stomach dropping, your throat constricting.

"..what...?"

Was all you could manage before you see Simon stand, and you could finally see why people were scared of him, the elusive and ruthless man on the field-- the man they call Ghost.

Now you knew why he sat, why he also took the low ground with you, why he showed himself to be smaller than you because seeing him right now-- standing at his full height with a gaze you can no longer call familiar.

It was downright chilling to the bone.

"He was going to take you for himself." He growled, his emotions resurfacing once he saw the guy's search history and the not-so-elaborate plans he shared with a couple of mates on his messaging app. He had the receipts and he was going to fucking expose the guy if it weren't for your interference--.

No. He shouldn't think about it like that. You were worried for him. Yeah. You weren't disrupting anything, you were just looking out for him. That's it.

'Keep it down, Ghost.'

"If I didn't intervene," he grabs your jaw and forces you into his gaze, "I would've broken my promise to always protecting you."

This breaks the dam.

Simon, as much as he was an emotionally stunted man, meant every word he made to you in his vows.

And at the end of it all, he swore, he promised--

'Promise to protect you always.'

Was how he ended that, and how he slipped that band on your finger right now.

You felt so stupid.

Maybe it was you who were quick to assume such things of a man who would no thing to hurt you.

"Shh..." He holds you close, finally closing the distance he wanted to make ever since you guys got home. "I'm sorry."

He whispers onto your hair as one of his hands stroke it while the other was wrapped around your side.

His chin was on your head, and he just lets you sob onto him-- lets you say your apologies, but he doesn't take them.

It wasn't your fault. It was his.

And he wants to make amends.

Even if that ended up with you leaving, he'll still fulfill those vows he promised.

Because he swore it to the only person who accepted him for all that he is.

So, he'll try his best to make it work. For the both of you, or even just for your sake.

"Lovie," he mutters once your sobs turned to sniffles, "your smiles look better on you."

You huff, unable to stop the breath of a laugh from the sudden left hook of a compliment.

"I'm sorry Simon." You finally peel away from his chest to look at him and place your hands- more gently this time- on his heated cheeks.

He shakes his head-- "no, 's not you." He kisses your palms, trailing it higher until he reaches that golden metal on your finger, and his lips linger on there for moments before talking again.

"I should've told you," he admits, "just didn't want you to worry."

You immediately smacked him which made him slightly flinch at the sudden hit on his cheek.

"Dummy," you sniffle, "I still would-- whether you didn't or did."

You pout at him, "you know me Simon, I'll always worry."

He nods somberly.

"Just don't wanna add onto it." He pokes your forehead and you giggle.

"See, its already so big--"

"Shush!" You slapped away his hand this time and you could see a smile starting to grow on his lips.

"I'll remember that for next time." He promises, this time replacing his finger with forehead, tiredly connecting it to yours.

"Promise to tell me next time?"

"I promise."

"I'll worry with you instead."

He chuckles at this, relenting to your whims once more.

"You're gonna make my head bigger like yours then."

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 6 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1])

ooh the "magick" mitzvah? I've been puzzling about the connection between william and billy, that's an interesting detail. I'll elaborate in a minute

I've seen a lot of irony about joe locke clearly not being 13 here, but the thing is, sometimes boys do suddenly hit puberty and have an insane growth spurt! and then you get the hilarious visuals of some guy sitting in a tiny desk in a classroom full of children.

my point being, they should have had joe dancing with a bunch of actual 13 year olds, it would have been so fucking funny

I love mama and papa kaplan, and it really gets to me that they lost their boy and don't even know it. I was worried about billy's episode because I thought it would be just a bunch of marvel tie-ins with no heart. glad to report I was wrong

lilia who hates witch stereotypes performing those very stereotypes in order to not fucking starve

william's reflection is billy reversed

lilia foresees william's death and billy's takeover, and she is SO sorry for him. patti as usual conveys so much, you can tell her heart is breaking but she's being kind and lying in order to not scare this poor kid. and this is exactly why being a Seer has always been a burden to lilia, how do you form any relationships, how do you love someone when you've already seen the day you're going to lose them?

“The Tower Reversed.” disaster, destruction, sudden upheaval. but reversed, it means miraculous transformation.

and there is something about lilia choosing this moment as the most representative for billy, a moment that symbolize both billy and william. this is future!lilia embracing her own strength and reclaiming the coven and the community she denied herself her whole life. and not only she includes billy in it, but also william as a fundamental part of billy, a kid that she protected and cherished despite meeting him only briefly.

not only lilia goes above and beyond for william, hiding the truth from him, inviting him to enjoy the party she knows will be his last. she hides the sigil on him so she can protect billy too, because she knows that another little boy is about to wake up in a strange reality and be so lost. she tells william he's a good egg, but she is the goodest egg.

I love the little choices here. wanda's voice on the radio, pretending she's in an idyllic sitcom marriage. and a real life marriage where wanda's 1950s tropes are reversed, rebecca is the one who drives and grabs her husband's hand to reassure him.

another great detail: the dissolving Hex reflected in the car window.

the parallels are taking my breath away. two moms, agatha and rebecca, fiercely loving and protective. both would blame themselves for their sons dying.

but sometimes, boys die. and to quote jac shaeffer, that is tragedy enough to fill the universe.

you can hear william's heart slow down and stop. then, when billy takes over, it starts beating like crazy.

and here's alice, who's also never met william (or billy) before, but she will unquestionably do her utmost to help.

I miss you so much, alice

he's so scared. the way he shakes his head and doesn't know where to look.

imagine being born yesterday, and suddenly you are in a different body and your head is cracked and you're surrounded by strangers. and your brother is nowhere.

that is the worst omelet I've ever seen in my life by the way

(also I know billy is used to instant growth, but imagine switching from child to teenager just like that, it's like going through puberty in two seconds. kafkaesque nightmare fuel)

and it's just so realistic and so moving that the kaplans are presenting a united front even though they are crumbling underneath. and they won't say any of it out loud because they are good fucking parents and it's their job to protect and worry without their kid ever feeling guilty about it. (billy does end up reading their minds because they're not equipped to parent a superhero yet. not that they wouldn't RAISE TO THE FUCKING CHALLENGE. I love you rebecca and jeff kaplan)

william liked classic movies, board games and magic tricks. there were budding hints at a goth vibe too, with dario argento quotes and creepy victorian posters. it doesn't seem at all incompatible with the person billy will eventually grow up to be, I know he had to settle into william's life, but he didn't revolutionize any of it, he kind of followed in william tracks. I think that yes, william died just as wanda dissolved the hex and it was a wrong place and wrong time kind of situation, but he also had to be a compatible donor - as similar as billy as possible, I don't know if genetically or soul-wise or what. they even look a bit similar, same ears, same nose, same eyes, same chin, same triangular face.

these guys really like doing mirror shots, don't they

by the way I will keep calling him Boyf because it's so damn funny, but I do know his name is eddie and I'm really really happy for the representation. there won't be any particularly deep meta about these two because gay boys are so, so far from my realm of interest or expertise, I'm sorry if you were looking forward to it. if you want to add context or ideas about them please do!

another possibility is that billy's soul, while not having any of wiliam's memories, was still shaped and conditioned by his dna and brain chemistry and past experiences, so in a sense william is still in there. you put software in a different hardware, it's gonna affect its performance.

I'll say this about boyf, he's very sweet. billy gives him this crazy story and he doesn't flinch, he just tries to understand and be supportive.

*cough cough* nerd

but look, he's pulling a detective agnes! he really is an agatha mini me.

ah yes, the future coven looking after billy even before meeting him. lilia giving him the sigil, alice being first responder on the site of the accident, jen saving his dating life by teaching him good skincare (he's a teenager! he's got pimples!)

you guys, I hope you don't mind me dedicating some time to billy alone, but I do like this episode a lot.

and tomorrow: it's the return of butch agatha!

[toasts-httyd-hyperfixation]

To answer your question, we don't know exactly how old they were when they got married

Also, its a good point about her being pregnant, and it's definitely something that you can use to have the timeline and ages make sense and be more accurate, but there are a few things

One, them announcing they're trying for a child is irrelevant because that's expected of them the moment they get married, like producing an heir, thats part of their job, they're supposed to be doing that

Two, its not inherently true that Hiccup would be considered heir as soon as he was conceived

There are places and times where that was the case with heirs, but babies weren't typically considered heir until they were born (hence the term 'firstborn' often being used) because obviously, something could happen and cause that baby not to be born, that baby might not be considered legitimate, and, regardless of your opinion on whether a fetus is a full person or not, historically, a lot of places did not consider fetuses people until they have been born, and in some cases, until they've been Confirmed

And we don't know when a baby is considered Officially the Heir in universe, but we do know A: pregnancies and life in general was dangerous for them, so there's no guarantee that the baby will even be born and B: the babies could also be a runt and therefore have to be put to death

So in my opinion, the most likely time that Hiccup was declared heir was After he had been taken to the Naming Dame, when everything is all clear and he's (supposedly) legitimized

And even if it is from conception, I don't know that the amount of time for a pregnancy strictly gives enough time for the ages to quite fit

Because pregnancies don't last multiple years, and say it was that they announced Valhallarama was pregnant when Snotlout was 3 almost 4, lets be real here, Hiccup was probably a premie so like 8ish months, that still only gets him to 4 years older

And that's assuming they know Val is pregnant from the moment he's conceived, which, you cannot know you're pregnant right away, and Vikings didn't have accurate pregnancy tests, so either they're going based off Vague Inaccurate Prediction ( which, not unlikely) or they're not really gonna know until she starts showing symptoms, and that could be anywhere from a week to over a month or more

In which case, they wouldn't be announcing it right away, there would be additional time cut out of this, so there's still not quite enough time to span the 3- possibly 6 years

So like, yes, the gestation period could have an affect, but since this was all based on the fact that in the book Snotlout specifically refers to Hiccup being Born, and then taking everything else into consideration, in my opinion, it probably isn't relevant

But regardless, yeah, it is definitely something you could use to make the ages all fit a little bit better

And just to be clear, I, obviously, am not an expert on any of this stuff, this is all based on what I came across while doing a little research into inheritance laws, so anyone who sees this, feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong or if you have anything to add

I realise none of this is probably really relevant to my original point in this set of posts, but I enjoy doing random research for funsies and I have a need to explore various concepts so, yeah 👍

Love that with the way its set up, Snotlout is anwhere from barely 3 to almost 5 years older than Hiccup

[lovemybluebully]

Feels Like Home

Holy shit! What the fuck is going on???!!! I finished a fic!!!! 😱🥰 So proud of myself right now.

Get your special sock out, nerds. It's gonna get good. 🤣

Logan has become downcast about the prospect of moving into a new apartment. Wade offers a foot massage to help him destress and.....You already know where this is going. 🤣

FYI! So yeah this fic is all foot tickles so if you're one of these people who detests feet then you may not want to read this. It is all SFW fluff kinda tickles though.

I skimmed through it as a quick edit so there may be some small fuck-ups, but I'll recheck it later and try to fix anything. Please enjoy!!

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 5,670 (That's a lot of words! 😳 You'll be here for a minute. lol)

It had been a few months now since Wade had returned triumphant to restore his timeline's integrity. No one really knew what to think when he introduced his newfound roommate to all of his loved ones, but with Wade being the happiest they had seen him in a long time they realized this Wolverine was responsible for that and were quick to accept him.

The adjustment period with Logan getting used to routine and having a place to return to every day went surprisingly well, and he found that he got along great with Althea. They bonded over ganging up to shit-talk Wade whenever he would get overbearingly obnoxious, but Wade simply revelled in it all. Hardly anything seemed to truly bother him these days.

Because with Wolverine at his side Wade now had some clout and was back to doing some mercenary for hire jobs, which more than covered the full rent of his apartment, bringing much relief to Althea to not have to worry about that anymore.

Logan solely had been offered some side work from Shield, but he insisted that he and Wade were a team and the only way they were getting him would be if they accepted Wade as well. They of course agreed to his terms and Wade was beyond grateful that not only was he now officially part of a team, but that Logan had stood up for him.

With their new jobs they were easily able to afford a much larger apartment as Wade excitedly broke the news to Althea that he and Logan would be moving out, though they still planned to pay her rent for her. He thought the woman would be ecstatic to finally have a place all to herself again without having to put up with his constant bullshit, but a wave of sadness seemed to wash over her instead.

The two men picked up on it instantly and after exchanging a glance with each other it didn't even require any further discussion. Blind Al was coming with them. They set upon getting her settled in first and made all the required trips back and forth between the apartments to move in all her possessions and made sure that she had everything she needed.

Logan stayed behind to box up the rest of their things while Wade dropped Althea and Mary Puppins off at the new apartment and the merc was happy to see how excited Althea was about all the extra space and no longer having to share a room with Wade.

Upon returning to help Logan, Wade found that he had already gotten everything that was remaining by the front door and ready to be moved. Really the only thing left in the apartment was their old couch that they were leaving behind, though this is where he currently found Logan laying and staring up at the ceiling in dull silence.

"Time's a wasting, pal. Get that sexy ass moving and let's haul the rest of this crap over to the new place," he called as he started to pick up one of the boxes before noticing that Logan hadn't moved or responded. Setting it back onto the floor he walked over to stand over the other man and look down at him, snapping his fingers in his face.

"Helloooo? Are you alive in there? Blink twice if you're not being mind controlled and held against your will."

Logan didn't blink. He hadn't this whole time. His eyes just seemed to be staring straight through Wade with a sadness hidden in the back of them, but he did give a soft sigh of a response.

"Yeah, I hear ya, bub."

Over time Wade had become better at figuring out when situations needed a more serious approach so he backed off on making another joke.

"What's the matter, Log? Aren't you anxious to get to the new apartment?"

"Sure," he said with no real emotion; his vague answers not revealing anything to Wade and making him determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Okay, what in the actual fuck is going on here? It's all we've been talking about for weeks. Explain the sudden melancholy," Wade allowed him a few moments, but when Logan didn't reply he narrowed his eyes at him, "Talk, or I'll make you talk."

He then gave a warning poke to Logan's ribs as the older man jumped and seemed to come out of his trance while his eyes finally blinked to focus on a concerned Wade. Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his listless face.

"Fuck. I don't know, I guess.......I guess I just realized that I'm gonna miss this place. A lot. Yeah, it's kind of a shit hole, but it's the first spot that I've been able to call home in a really....really long time. A place I actually belonged."

Wade's demeanor softened immediately once the truth had been revealed. Even though Logan had never said it outright Wade knew he had been grateful for the invite to live together. He just didn't realize exactly how much it all had meant to him.

"Hey hey cheer up," Wade placed a hand on his shoulder to give a gentle squeeze, "We're moving onto bigger and better things, my stab-happy friend. Now's not the time to be down when we should be celebrating."

Logan let out another unenthusiastic exhale, sitting himself up.

"I know it. Sorry, it just isn't sitting well with my head. Everything about this apartment holds a place in my memory, and this couch.....I've spent a lot of time on this couch. It ain't the most comfortable, but it gave me a place of my own where I could sleep in peace," he rubbed his hand over the couch arm fondly.

"You're going to have your own bed now, buddy. A real one. Not this piece of shit pull-out," Wade kicked the couch but immediately regretted it when he saw the frown of offense on Logan's face, "Sorry. I'm just saying we don't have to settle for mediocrity anymore. And hey, it's not the end of the world. Our new place is going to be just as good. Better even, and the most important thing is that we're all still together."

"You're right, and half of me is looking forward to it. Just the other half of me doesn't want to let go so easily. It's one of those bittersweet kinda things. I appreciate what this apartment has done for me.....what you've done for me, even though I know I don't make it easy sometimes."

"You're right on that one, buddy. But that's okay, you know I like it when you make it hard," Wade took a try at making a twisted innuendo, feeling hopeful when Logan huffed out a barely noticeable snort through his nostrils and shook his head.

"I don't know where I'm going with all this. Just ignore me. Stupid thoughts in my head. But I would like to just sit here a little longer though, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is. We got 'til the end of the day on the lease so technically it's still ours until then," Wade replied as Logan gave a short nod and lowered his eyes, making Wade tilt his head in concern for his friend, "You sure there's nothing I can do in the meantime to cheer you up?"

"Ya don't have to waste that kinda effort on me, Wade. But maybe....if ya don't mind that is....you can stay here with me. Kinda eerie bein' in this place without ya and not hearing your obnoxious loud mouth every five seconds," the corner of Logan's mouth ticked up into the smallest of smiles, making Wade's heart flutter in joy.

"I knew deep down under all the insufferable machismo that you love me. I'll be writing a long, self-gratuitous entry about that in my diary later tonight. Only my version is going to be a lot more risqué," Wade added, trying to get another reaction out of him as Logan just rolled his eyes.

"Just keep it to yourself, moron. Ugh, too bad we already moved out all the alcohol. I could really use a drink to clear my head," he lifted a big hand as his fingers massaged the temples on the sides of his forehead.

Wade's face twisted in thought as he looked for something helpful around the empty apartment that he could use to lighten his friend's mood. But they had done a pretty thorough job cleaning up the place so Wade could get the deposit back, making him come up empty.

Still Logan had only wanted for Wade to stay there with him so he figured he might as well make himself comfortable. As he looked towards the end of the couch to find a seat, he quickly took notice that Logan was barefoot, which was not an uncommon sight these days.

Once he'd originally made himself at home in the apartment, Logan had begun ditching his footwear every day as soon as he'd enter the abode. He preferred the feeling of being free of constricting shoes and with his heightened senses he enjoyed the sensory feedback he received by having such close contact to the ground.

Even though it left him vulnerable to Wade's irresistible urges to go after his feet, which the hyperactive man had delightedly found to be devastatingly ticklish, he still felt it was worth the risk to truly feel content in his own skin. He always had to be on his guard though.

Wade now smiled widely as he came up with the perfect solution that was guaranteed to get the both of them into better spirits.

"What are you doing, Wade?" Logan inquired suspiciously as the merc picked up his long legs, sitting down on the couch before lowering them back down to end up with Logan's feet on his lap. He then smiled innocently at the perplexed man.

"You need to unwind a little, Peanut, and Dr. Wade is here to prescribe the remedy.....One soothing, with totally no underlying motives, foot massage coming up!"

Logan's body noticeably stiffened up at the thought of his feet being touched, an uneasy growl rising up in the back of his throat.

"Have you seriously not learned from the hundreds of times I've kicked you? I'm way too ticklish for you to be doing that," he started to pull his feet back, but Wade grabbed onto his ankles.

"Oh, don't be silly. You're not that ticklish," he yanked the feet back with little resistance while Logan quirked an eyebrow.

"Tell that to your nasal septum that I caved in last week."

"And my nose has never looked better! Look sort of like a young Marlon Brando, wouldn't you say?" Wade chuckled as he turned his head to give a side profile while Logan frowned skeptically, "Come on, just let me try. Just take a deep breath and relax and it will be no problem. Trust me, it'll make you feel a lot better."

Logan sighed, running his hands over his face and then back through his hair as he considered the proposal. He knew whenever Wade was dead set on something it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it so most of the time he wouldn't even waste his breath. And hell, maybe this really would help him feel better.

"Just don't say I didn't warn ya. Absolutely no promises that I won't end up kicking your fucking teeth into your skull. Especially if ya tickle me on purpose."

Wade delivered a goofy salute and scooted around into a better angle to deliver attention to the feet on his thighs.

"I hear you loud and clear, and I sign the waiver releasing you from all responsibility to any injuries I may sustain in the process. I'm not going to try to tickle you though so just get that thought out of your head, okay? Gonna start off super slow here."

First Wade wrapped a hand around each foot and just held them there, not moving and attempting to get Logan used to the physical contact. Though as soon as the hands were placed on his feet Logan's muscles immediately tensed again.

He tried to do as Wade instructed and will his body to calm itself as he took some deep inhales and exhales and tried to force the muscles in his legs to loosen up. 

"You doing alright there, buddy?"

"I'm....I don't know yet. Just get on with it. The anticipation is killing me the most here," Logan shook his head, trying to put his mind outside of his body and not focus on the touching too much. For a man with heightened senses though that was easier said than done.

"Hmm eager, are we? I would be too if I were in your place. My fingers are positively magic. Sorry I don't have any of my massage oils here though," Wade's fingers gently moved around and started slowly kneading at the balls of his feet as Logan breathed deeply and clenched his jaw to keep a straight face.

"It's fine. Would probably make it worse, honestly."

"You're so dramatic. But so far so good, right? How about this....?" He held both sides of one foot and firmly pulled the flesh out in opposite directions repeatedly before doing the same to the other foot. 

He hadn't heard a peep from the other man and looked over to see a grin had fought its way onto his face while he had also closed his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else.

"Remember to breath, big guy. Isn't this nice?" He then cradled the top of Logan's right foot with one hand and begin rubbing his thumb in small circles into the arch, prompting the foot to instantly be yanked from his grasp along with a loud snort from the Wolverine.

Logan shook off the shiver that had just shot up his spine and looked up to find Wade smiling at him in amusement before beckoning forward with his hand.

"Don't fuckin' give me that look. Ya know I can't help it," the feral mutant muttered sheepishly and offered back his withdrawn foot.

"Aw c'mon, you can't tell me that doesn't feel good at least a little?" Wade smirked and repeated the same technique he had just been doing as Logan forced himself not to pull away this time and instead just let out some of the giggles that he'd been holding back. It actually did feel good in a maddening sort of way.

"Kkkk-Kinda-ehehehehehehee. Buhut it st-still tihihiiickles," his body was squirming now, his feet twitching under Wade's hands as he fought to get control of himself.

"You know being ticklish is more mind over matter. So tell yourself that you aren't ticklish, and you won't be," the merc tried to offer what he thought was some solid advice, but Logan simply scoffed at it

"Bullshit," Logan had a few more giggles slip past his clenched teeth, "Don't thihink I wouldn't have alreheheheady tried thaahaat?"

"It's all about willpower. I'm not saying it's easy, but it's definitely possible. Not that I'd ever want you to stop being one bit less ticklish," Wade now used the tips of his fingers to drag his blunt nails down the lengths of both soles.

"Gaahaah!" Logan had not been expecting the sharper sensations and almost went through the roof as he jerked his feet back with his knees nearly hitting himself in the chest, "Goddammit! You wanna get kicked?! No tickling!"

"I'm not tickling. I'm simply waking up your nerves to increase the effectiveness of the massage. It's a legit method, look it up," Wade gave a smug little smirk at this loophole he'd found while receiving a skeptical glare in return.

"Trust me, they're awake. You can skip that one, alright?"

"No worries Peanut, I gotcha," Wade nodded, sitting up straight and patting his lap before holding his hands out expectedly, "Now if you would, please resume the position." 

Logan hesitated with his brow piqued while internally questioning the sincerity of the man before him.

"You gonna be nice?"

Wade mocked a face of offense, placing a hand over his heart.

"Moi? How could you even say that? You know I'm always nice. Now let me finish what I started here. It's not gonna be as good if you don't let me complete the process."

Logan took another moment to consider the situation as he carefully weighed his options. He could decline and go back to sulking while Wade just pesters him the whole time about why he should let him complete the massage, or he could just skip all that hassle and allow Wade to continue now.

Wade smirked in victory as Logan reluctantly returned his feet to his lap and sat back in resignation with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's a good boy. I'll try something a little different this time. Maybe what you need is a firmer touch," Wade now made a fist and used his knuckles to knead into the balls of his feet with a twisting motion as he went along, using his other hand to hold the feet stable. 

He thought it was succeeding in not causing a ticklish sensation, but seconds later Logan's legs tensed up again while he started letting out little growls to conceal the more embarrassing sounds. Wade only laughed softly and shook his head in amusement.

"Serious question, did any of your enemies know you're this ticklish? Not that I can picture you being in a tickle fight with the likes of Sabretooth. Mmm, potential fanfic idea. Gotta remember to jot that one down in my diary."

"Of course they dihihihidn't," a few giggles slipped out as Logan could feel the electricity running up his legs, transforming into his upper body squirming about, "I d-don't advertise it. Hehehe, watch it."

Wade's knuckles were rolling along his arch at this point.

"Well, you certainly dodged a bullet there, compadre. If they all knew how easily you fall apart from being tickled then you'd be the biggest liability ever! Every villain in the MCU would want to get their hands on you to get you spilling all that top-secret information and most well-guarded secrets," he grabbed all the toes on one foot and stretched them back while applying pressure with his thumb underneath the ball of the foot to rub tight circles.

"Th-That's-That's nohot truhue," Logan sputtered in response to the new technique being used, "I wohohohouldn't break. Besides, they prefeheher hehehehe-hurting me and mahahahaking me bleeheeheed."

"Maybe, but they know using pain against you is useless, you little masochist. They need to explore alternative methods. You think I'm bad? Well you haven't seen real tickle torture, my naive honey badger. I'm only capable of getting you in maybe two spots at once. But them? They would tickle you everywhere. All. At. The. Same. Time. Guarantee you'd be a straight goner."

A foot gave him a harsh kick in the ribs.

"Wihihill you shuhuhut up alreheheady?! That ihihisn't hehehelping," Logan snorted and put his hands over his face, giggling behind them as he slumped down on the couch and tried to clear those disturbing images from his head, "You-You almohohost dohohone?!"

Wade chuckled at his success in managing to fluster the complete fuck out of Logan.

"Not quite. This might take a while. We've got a lot of ground to cover here. Hmm, another question. Now I could be wrong, but haven't I seen these puppies in a Tarantino movie?"

"The fuhuhuck are yoohoou tahalkin' about?!" Logan removed his hands from his face to give Wade a disturbed look, his expression making Wade giggle himself.

"Just making idle conversation. Oof. Not only big, but heavy too," he held one foot up under the heel in his palm as he took in the weight before setting it back down to firmly squeeze the heel now, giving Logan a small breather.

"It's the ahaha-adamantium, dumbass. My-heehehehe-whole body is pretty muhuhuch a deadly weapon."

"Is that right? Ah yes, I see it now," Wade smirked as he simultaneously pinched the first and fifth toes and gently tugged on them, watching how his foot immediately cringed and wiggled to escape, "They sure look pretty threatening to me."

"W-Wait! Nohohoo!" Logan snorted and snickered uncontrollably, trying to sink further into the couch cushions with his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, "Not the dahahahamn tohohohoes!"

His toes flinched away and curled under protectively, but Wade continued pulling them one by one from their hiding spots to stretch them out. It reminded Logan of the times he'd been drunk and the merc decided to be an asshole and tease him by playing 'This Little Piggy' with him.

"No? Oh, but I must. The toes are an important part, and they deserve just as much attention as the rest of the foot, if not more. A lot of tension can be alleviated through them, and you, my fine Wolvie, are very very tense," Wade grinned as he attempted to massage the stem of one stretched out toe, receiving a dirty guffaw as the foot immediately twisted out of his hold.

"GWAHaha! Fuhuck off my toes!"

"Hey, I'm just trying things. But fine, no more toes. I'm absolutely positive that you're really going to love this next one though," he went to his other foot, grasping both sides with his thumbs on the soles and starting at the ball of the foot he squeezed one side at a time back and forth in a see-saw type motion as he worked his way down the foot.

"Sh-Shit! Ahahaheeheehee! No waahaay thahahaaat's a real mahahahaha-massahahahahage tehehechnique!" Logan squeaked out through his laughter that had progressively become impossible to hold back.

"Of course it is. I'm purely a professional and I don't appreciate your ignorant accusations," Wade worked his thumbs more aggressively down the arch, knowing that at this point no matter what he did it was all just relentlessly tickling his friend now.

Logan was practically in a full-blown giggle fit that showed no signs of slowing down, all the while trying his hardest to remain cooperative and allow the unbearable fondling of his ticklish feet.

Wade sighed with a contented smile as he watched his roommate crumble to pieces from what was supposed to be a relaxing massage. At least Logan was undoubtedly no longer thinking about the move from their old apartment, which had been Wade's goal of this whole thing.

His work here was pretty much done, but there was one last thing he needed to do to make it all complete.

"Hehe, alright you win. I guess you really are too ticklish for a foot massage. Spoiler alert, I already knew that. Welp, if you can't beat 'em....," Wade shrugged as he smoothly wrapped up Logan's ankles securely in his arm and started scratching playfully into his soles. 

Logan had been trying so so hard just to bear the feelings of the massage that it took his brain a moment to relay that he was genuinely being tickled now. But once it all finally caught up Logan completely let everything go, throwing his head back in a howl of laughter and pulling with all the strength he had to get free.

"Waahahahahahahaa! Ya fuhuhuhucking dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!!" Logan squirmed back on the couch while tugging ineffectively at his legs trapped in Wade's vice-like grip. He should have known better than to have thought that this whole massage idea wasn't going to end this way.

Actually, he knew damn well. And yet his dumb ass still let it happen.

"We gave it our best shot, Log. I guess foot massages just aren't happening for a guy with your level of sensitivity. Of course, I'd be more than willing to give it another go sometime," Wade teased while his fingers crawled rapidly back and forth across his delicate arches, making the man yelp and struggle more desperately.

"Nnnnever agahahahahain! Let go! Leggoooohohohoohooo! Heheheeheehee! Nohohot thehehehere! I'll-I'll end yohoohoohoohoou!" Logan snorted uncontrollably between hysterical giggles as he found that he felt no malice towards Wade despite how it may have appeared. He practically surrendered himself to his fate and collapsed against the cushions with his head tilted back in mirth.

Wade glanced behind him over his shoulder to see Logan's face and nearly died from how adorable he looked. His eyes were squinted shut with the crow's feet gathered at the outer corners and his nose wrinkled up to match, his lips pulled back into a gaping smile that revealed his enlarged canine teeth, and his cheeks glowing with a crimson blush that stretched up to his ears, down through his neck and to the bit of chest that Wade could see peeking out of his low cut shirt.

If Wade could keep him looking like this forever then he absolutely would. He was literally addicted to the man's laughter and had been over the moon the day he had discovered how ticklish he was. Even though Logan would hurl a slew of threats at him every time he tickled him, he never once followed through with any of it. Which just made it all the more fun for Wade to mercilessly tease him.

"Awww, does wittle Wolvie have ticklish wittle feet? Have I found the mighty Wolverine's Achilles heel?" He emphasized his metaphor by scratching at a particularly sensitive spot he knew of above Logan's heels. Logan instantly arched up off of the couch and tried using one foot to shield the other as Wade just easily switched between tickling whichever foot was exposed.

"Ahahahahaha! Nooo dohohohon't! Fuhuhuhuhuhuck! Waahaahaade stahahahahap! I cahahan't tahahahaaake ihihihit!"

Wade's favorite part. Where Logan's pride and resolve started to fall apart, and the threats begin transitioning into begging.

"Can you imagine what evil out there would pay to know this information? I could retire as the richest mercenary of all time," Wade smirked as he scribbled at his arches again, making Logan wheeze harshly from the intensity of the sensations.

"You'd behehehetter nohohohohot! If-If-hahahahahaa ya knohohohow whahahahat's goohoohoohoood for you!" He struggled to speak clearly as Wade wasn't letting up.

"I'm just teasing, big boy. I'd never let them have the pleasure. You and your ticklish ass are aaaall mine." 

"Okaay! Okaaahahahay fihihihine! Aahahahahaahahaa! Stohohohop ticklin' meheheheheh! C-Cahahahaaan't breeheeheeeathe!" Logan pleaded as Wade simply tsked and shook his head. If he could still form coherent-ish words then he could still breathe, meaning he wasn't completely done yet.

But Wade knew it was about time to wrap this up as he prepared the grand finale.

"A little courtesy goes a long way, you know? Now say pleeeeease....," Wade grinned deviously as he went in for the kill. His fingers squirmed up under Logan's toes to dig into the highly ticklish crevices that he knew would drive him insane and Logan more than delivered on his reaction.

"PLEASEPLEASENOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA!! PLEEEHEHEEHEEEHAAHAAHAAHAHAHA!!" Logan laughed wildly out of control with his head thrown back and tears creeping from his eyes, clutching at the couch tightly with the strength to rip the cushions clean in half.

Hearing the Wolverine completely lose his shit always gave Wade that little rush of sadistic glee that made him not ever want to stop, but at this point it was bordering on torture now and that was not Wade's intention of this particular session.

"Oh, so he can be polite. Okay okay, since you said please," Wade released his ankles as promised before an evil idea crossed into his mind.

Before either of them knew what he was doing he snatched up one foot and blew a loud raspberry right into the middle of the arch. Logan's mind went completely blank as he had an out-of-body experience and let out an inhuman screech like Wade had never heard him do before.

Though that moment did not last as Logan's other foot immediately slammed hard into Wade's face with a sickening crack to obliterate the cartilage of his nose as Wade let out a scream and dropped the foot to grab onto his face.

"Aaargghh! My nose! My beautiful nose! Dammit! Awww shit, guess it's back to looking like Ryan Reynolds again."

"You.....You fucking....freak....," Logan breathlessly wheezed as he just stared in amazement at the other man, unable to believe that he had taken it that far, "You tryin'....to get killed?"

Wade grabbed firmly onto his nose and pulled it back into position with another loud crack as he yelped in pain.

"I mean did it really call for that harsh of a reaction though? Couldn't have turned the power down just a little on that adamantium stomper?" Wade gestured to the offending foot as Logan caught his breath back.

"Hey asshole, you were warned. Told ya it was dangerous to tickle my feet. You got what ya fuckin' asked for and I'm not one bit sorry," Logan stated firmly as he swung his feet to the floor to sit more naturally on the couch.

"I'll make sure you're sorry later," Wade muttered under his breath, forgetting that Logan was more than capable of clearly hearing below a whisper.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Aah! That was supposed to be a secret surprise! Damn you and your ears!" Wade reached over and wiggled a finger into Logan's ear as he grunted in annoyance, but still smiled as he shoved him away

"Fuck offa me, Wilson. I've about had my fill of you for one day."

"Really? That's funny because I don't remember being inside of you. But there's still time to change that," Wade grinned as he put his arm around Logan's shoulders, giving him a suggestive squeeze. Logan's brow arched high as he just stared at Wade's stupidly smirking face.

"Save that for your creepy diary of sick fantasies," Logan shook his head as he ended up smiling again before looking around the empty apartment, "Well....that sure as shit wasn't how I expected my last moments in this place to go." 

"And you're totally welcome. I know you're feeling a lot better now, right?"

Logan growled gently in response, but in no way could deny it. He fucking hated that Wade was right. It seemed to always take the weight off of his mind every time Wade tickled him to tears, and he appreciated it more than Wade would ever know. Because he would rather die before ever admitting that out loud.

"How about a thank you? A kiss on the lips will also suffice," Wade puckered up his lips as he leaned in, but was immediately pushed away.

"How about I cut those lips off if ya don't get them away from me?"

"Well, you know that's never going to happen. Especially since my lips and your tummy have an intimate date scheduled for later," Wade teased before frowning down at the bloodstain on his shirt that had dripped from his nose earlier.

"Always bleeding everywhere. You should probably start wearin' red more," Logan smirked at it being his turn to pick on the other man.

"Yeah duh, that's why my uniform is red. Didn't realize it was going to be an issue around friends though," Wade narrowed his eyes at him as Logan unapologetically shrugged his wide shoulders.

"In my defense, it wasn't a reaction I could control. Ain't the first time that happened either, so ya knew the risks."

"True. But I'll still whine about it next time too," Wade was back to grinning as Logan groaned at the implication of there being a "next time". They managed to sit in silence for a few moments before Logan sighed and started moving.

"Well....guess it's that time," he then leaned over to grab his boots and socks from beside the couch and begin putting them back on.

"Yup, we had better head out. I promised Al I'd pick up something to eat on the way back. I could really go for some sushi myself. You feeling that?

"Sure Wade. Sounds great," Logan nodded as he finished lacing his boots before standing up and walking to the door with Wade trailing behind him. As they reached the front door Logan turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.

"It's strange, you know. I've always been chased out of literally every place I've tried to settle into the past several years. Now I'm leaving this one on my own accord."

"You're not in that universe anymore, big guy. And as long as I have anything to do with it, you'll always have a home. I give you my word. And don't worry, this new place will feel just like home before you know it," Wade smiled and grabbed some of the moving boxes from beside the front door before promptly dropping them as he was pulled into a tight hug.

After getting over the surprise, Wade carefully returned the embrace as Logan sighed heavily into Wade's shoulder while he clung to him.

"Thanks Wade. For everything. I know I don't tell you enough how much I appreciate you, but just know I truly mean it," his eyes were a little watery when he finally pulled back, turning Wade's heart to mush as he smiled and gently patted him on the shoulder.

"The pleasure is all mine, believe me. I hope you know everything in my life is now better because of you, but if you didn't well there it is. So don't think this is all one-sided. Now are you ready to go home, buddy? Let's go break in that new couch we just bought. Feel free to interpret that however you would like."

That broke the serious look on his face as Logan chuckled with a shake of his head and took one last look at their old couch in the middle of the room before turning back to Wade with an utterly contented smile.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go home, Wade."

[mixterglacia]

CONTENT WARING: Vivziepop/Stolitz Critical below the cut.

TL;DR- This episode was inconsistent to put it politely. I will not continue such niceties below the cut. You've been warned.

I'm going to start with the good. The jokes with Satan and his...therapist?? are delightful, and considering how awful this episode was, I will take it.

The bit where the rest of the imps are tormenting Stolas felt so good, but I'm aware we're meant to sympathize with poor wittle owl boi can do no wrong uwu. So that missed by a mile.

While it wasn't consistent, this episode had some stunning animation. Kudos to the team, especially those working on the shot where Stolas is lifting his cape in the song. That and the slow turns were beautiful.

Alright let's rip into this.

If the second half of this episode existed in a vacuum, it might have hit its mark. But it doesn't. This is TOTAL tonal whiplash. Completely unearned and obnoxious. Once again, we have the biggest helluverse problem:

I don't want to put in the effort to earn my drama. I am relying on the fandom to fill in the blanks so they cry.

The song is horrendously demeaning and bad. He's belittling him because he's in a place where Blitz can't fight back. You can't convince me that I should go from the tone at the start of the song to the end.

GOD i hate these two. there is nothing appealing left. They are a hollow, pathetic shell of what we were promised. this is "messy" in the way a dumpster is. This isn't some artsy spill of candy. This is trash with glitter poured all over it.

Suddenly we're getting Blitz's "truwe" feelings all dumped on us in the span of a single musical number. This is TERRIBLE. You have been so stingy with any level of development on his end that this feels like a car getting t-boned at an intersection. I guess "self indulgent" is code for "I didn't want to put in effort, i just wanted my OTP." Which is fine in a fandom sense, but this is a SHOW. You have to actually make us believe they feel like that. You have FAILED, and you're still trying to give yourself the prize? Man, you are deluded.

This was total dogshit. This was a rushed attempt to get Stolas in Blitz's house/bed. This was nothing short of MORE woobification of this dumbass owl. HE DID THIS TO HIMSELF. IF ANYTHING, THIS IS A SLAP ON THE WRIST.

He's a privileged piece of shit that is so babied by the writers that even his PUNISHMENT is nothing. So he's banished, but only for a hundred years, which is nothing to an immortal. If you're trying to bring him down to be on par with the imps, you've failed.

He's still going to get his job back in the future. He's still going to have money in the future. He's still going to have power in the future. If anything, you should have had the punishment make him be an imp for those years.

But no. You're so obsessed with him that you've centered the whole plot around HIM. Not I.M.P, not Blitz.

HIM.

This show has become so derailed at this point. Each episode is (somewhat) fine on their own, but you can't sit there and tell me they have any level of consistency. I keep thinking they're going to hit their stride, and they keep failing to do so. This is pathetic.

I'm very close to giving up on this series. Even analyzing it has become a chore. You aren't fun to watch, or make fun of. You're just mediocre.

I so desperately want these shows to have better writing. I want them to have quality and be successful at the same time. But currently we only have the latter and I fear that will wane in time if Vivienne doesn't get her head out of her ass and put in the effort I know her to be capable of. You can't keep coasting off of your pilot fans forever. I implore you to have someone work on the tone and consistency of the helluverse in the future.

Somehow Helluva makes Hotel look like high art, and that's a shame. When it was only the pilots, I truly adored Helluva. It had wonderful characters and great humor.

But here we are.

[writingblogsandothers]

Don't You (Forget About Me)

Writer's Note: More Geta coming tomorrow, only this time he's featuring someone new in the mix!! For now, here's some Eddie Munson to fill the void! Apologies for those following who aren't here for the Joe Quinn / Eddie Munson ride, there will be more differentiated writing coming soon! Thank you all so much for the support and kind messages - you're all stars. Sending all the love X

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: Mentions of death / Mentions of injury/violence / Sadness / Mild mention of fear

Readers should be over 18 years of age. Anyone under this age, please do not engage nor read this account's work.

Cold. That’s all you felt. The sun was beating down, yet all you felt was numb. It was 13 days, 2 hours, and 33 minutes since you escaped the upside down. The love of your life was still there. Cold. On the hard ground. Next to him, a large chunk of your metaphorical heart. Eddie was the love of your life, there was zero denying that. From squaring up to Jason Carver and his cronies, to keeping tick at the woods entrance outside school while his ‘deals’ were happening, Eddie watched over you with heart-shaped vision. You could do no wrong, nor could he to you.

So, when you got so far to finishing the job once and for all with Vecna, your boy decided to be the hero. To save you and Dustin. Never one to stray away from a fight, he fought with those bats. You can still hear the crunching and swatting. By the time you reached him, he lay there gashes everywhere.

“Eddie!!!” you cried at his side.

He shushed you, “Baby, it’s okay – I won, I think I’m the hero.” You shook your head in sheer disbelief, “I told you this was going to be my year.” You tried to cover as many of the gashes with your coat, but he brushed you away. “I think we know my fate, peach. Just stay with me. If this world was ending, which I think it is, I’d want to be next to you” You sobbed into his shoulder, “Eddie, you can’t die on me – what about our plans? You’ve this big gig next month, you can’t go anywhere. I need you.” He just smirked to the best of his ability, with his last words being, “I love you baby, tell Wayne I love him too, and keep an eye on the kids.” The next thing you remember is being dragged off him by Steve – you must have blacked out from sheer grief.

Which takes us to now. Back to the cold. Back to the numb. Back to black. You sat in the school hall hearing the flurry of people, it was all too much. You rose and exited swiftly without causing a stir.

Little happened in the months that followed, you barely left the house. You didn’t want to see anyone. Not Steve. Not Robin. Not Dustin, not Nance. No one. The odd time you left to visit Wayne in the trailer, but even that still felt too painful to commit to any lengthy time period spent.

You kept looking for signs, anything, some sign your Eddie was still here, with you. The odd light flickered here and there but you passed it off as dodgy wiring.

It wasn’t until one evening your phone rang again, you managed to lift yourself off the sofa to take the phone off the wall, “Hello?” A panicked Steve rushes, “Y/N, it’s happening. It’s happening again.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re all at mine, want me to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll be over in 10.” You abruptly hung up the phone. Here we go again, this time you could feel it in your bones – this time it was to be over for good.

You sped over to Steve’s, breaking every kind of limit and driving rule known to mankind. Swinging into the drive, you bailed out of your car and straight into the house. You were met with an upset gang, with El blindfolded, sitting in front of a static television. You perched yourself on the edge of Steve’s sofa, and he took your hands in his, looking anxious.

“I see lights. Hawkins. Trailer Park. Energy – that’s where he gets it. From the supply there. Like home for him”

You gasp, all you could think of was poor Wayne, you had to warn him to get out of there in case things went pear shaped. Then El speaks again,

“I hear music. Sounds loud. From a movie. He’s coming. I have to go.” El comes out of her trance with a deep gasp for air, tears running down her face and blood peeping from her nose.

Steve asks, “El, what was the music, or where was it coming from?”

“I don’t know where it was coming from, but it was from the movie Mike and I watched last week.”

“The Breakfast Club?” Mike asked, with El nodding her head.

Your head shot up. “The ending song?” you asked inquisitively.

“Yeah, you know the one where the guy is walking out and goes,” she punches her arm up into the air. You walked out of the room. It couldn’t be him. You saw him die, he died in your arms, didn’t he? Robin gets up to follow you into the kitchen.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Robin, you’re going to think I’m insane, but I think that was Eddie playing that song.” Robin sighs, “Y/NN, babe, he’s gone. I’m sorry, but we are going to have to accept this now.”

A slight anger rose within you, “No, we can’t just accept this. That was Eddie and I’s song. We watched that together at the movies, and we had this running joke that we were like Claire and Bender.”

“Sweet, it’s a popular song, it could have been anyone.” She tried to sugar coat the idea it wasn’t possibly him.

“Oh, so Vecna has decided to branch into 80s pop now has he? Very cultured of him.” You spat with a degree of venom. Steve walked into the kitchen, “What’s going on?”

Robin interjected harshly, “Y/N hasn’t accepted Eddie’s death and is now fantasising that he is trying to communicate with her from the upside down.” You looked tore down once again, Robin tried to apologise, “Y/N, I’m sor-” “Forget it Robin, I’ll take my delusional ass elsewhere!”

You walked back into the living room, and asked “Okay, where do we go from here. What’s the plan?”

Dustin rolls out what looks like blueprints, with tiny figurines (which you recognised from watching Ed’s DnD campaigns) outlining who’s going where. He put you to the safe house, probably too afraid to lose you as well. You interjected. “I’m going to the Trailer Park.”

A chorus of ‘No’s’, ‘Absolutely Not’s’, echoed around Steve’s living room. “LISTEN! That thing and his minion bats stole the love of my life from me. I want to be there to finish what I can. I will destroy the power source if it’s the last thing I do.”

The room fell silent, and Dustin moved your DnD character – the Rogue – to the trailer park. It was finalised, you would be seeing to destroying the power source and tackling whatever came your way at the trailer park.

The supplies were gathered, and here you all were rallying together one final time, to gear up like some sort of army regiment. You were putting on the vest over Eddie’s Metallica t-shirt, that he just ‘happened’ to leave at your house, when Steve stood beside you, looking down on your sad frame.

“Hey. It’ll be okay. We’ll win this time.”

You looked up at him through sorrowed eyes, “What if we don’t? What if this is the last time we see each other?” Steve pulled you in close, hugging you tightly. He said nothing in response because the reality was, what if you were right?

Steve started up the engine to the motorhome through hot wiring, and Robin trying to make light of his new ‘bad-boy’ ways, after knowing the events that had went down with Eddie stealing it in the first place. “Steve, that was kinda hot. Who taught you how to do such a thing?”, she leant over him, fake-fawning like so many girls do. Nancy sitting as co-pilot giggled at her actions with you following suit. He scoffed, and brushed her off, “Go sit somewhere Buckley, I don’t need you through the windscreen.”

The drive wasn’t long, but it seemed to drone on forever. Steve pulled up to the trailer park. Eyes shot round to you. Tearily, you said, “Ok, here I go. Before I do, please be safe out there. I love you all.”

When Steve, Robin, Dustin and Nancy looked on to you, they did so with distress strewn across their faces. You blew a kiss and winked at them all, smirking, before jumping off the RV.

Entering the gates of the trailer park felt different, there was an eerie presence, and it wasn’t just because Ed wasn’t there anymore. You walked quickly trying to get to Wayne’s trailer to warn him to leave as soon as he could, but on your way there you heard something – almost like the trill of the wide fanged monster. Ignoring the warning, you kept going when all of a sudden you seemed to be pulled feet first into the ground – it swallowed you. Screaming, you fell with a serious crash and staring up, you could see the sky wasn’t as gloomy grey as it once was but illuminated with an undeniable red hue – a hue you had seen once too many times in your life.

“HELP! HEEELLLLPPP!”, you screamed hoping someone, somewhere would hear you. You ran to where you knew, Eddie’s trailer. Maybe you would be able to warn Wayne from there, use lights or some such. Sprinting, you approached the door, which still partially had the barricade you helped build with your beloved and Dustin and reached for the handle. Prying it open with force, you entered. It looked just like you remembered – dishes strewn across the kitchen; the ashtray, sitting on a tiny table next to the front door, almost like decoration; and a curly head lying on the sofa in front of the live TV.

You start to walk up the hallway, trying to find something to signal to Wayne when you stop abruptly in your tracks.

Reality hit you like a slap across the face.

Why was there a curly head lying on the sofa?

Turning on your heels, you slowly approached the sofa once more, petrified of what you might encounter when you move round toward the front. Tiptoeing, you walk round to the front of the sofa and stand firm. Opening your eyes bravely, you see an extremely hurt Eddie lying on the sofa. Eyes closed. You stared intently at him. This was so surreal. You hadn’t seen the love of your life since you had to leave him on the cold, hard concrete. Was he breathing? Was he alive? Was this some sick trick Vecna and his cronies were playing on you?

“Baby?” you bravely questioned.

Eyes began to open, and the curly haired boy looked directly into your soul.

Shock took over his face. He sat up bullet straight, as quickly as he could considering his condition.

“Y/N? Are you real, or is this one of those visions again?”

“I’m thinking the same thing about you.”

“What’s our safe word? We’ll say it together. One, two, three.”

Both in unison stated, “Teddy.”.

You loudly gasped and began to cry, and Eddie the same. You couldn’t believe your luck. How was he alive? He died. You saw him die, he was in your arms. You rushed over to him, taking his face in your hands. Observing all his light freckles, dirt specs, and chocolate brown irises. It was him. Your Eddie. He took your chin and pulled you in closer to kiss your pouted lips.

“Baby, I can’t believe you’re real. I thought I was going to live a long, lonely life down here and die by myself.”

“Eddie, what happened? I thought you died.”

“Sweetheart, so did I – but I came around. I’m cut up pretty bad, but I found Wayne’s trusty stash he hid from us, and it’s come in useful for disinfectant.”

You giggled at the thoughts of poor Wayne having to hide his own treats in his own home because of you two.

“Let me help you clean up. It’s the least I can do.”

Eddie lifted his shirt up and you saw just the damage those vile bats done to your boy. He was gauged at the side, large lacerations across his torso and back, but all in all – it looked to be healing quite well. You stared at him carefully thinking what was the best way to approach before his voice broke your thoughts,

“Ahhh okay, okay, I see how it is. You only offered to do this so you could ogle at me, you minx!” laughing at his own teasing.

You laughed in return, “Yeah, yeah, you wish. Now where’s this alcohol?”

You started to clean his wounds, and he winced the entire time. You couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in. Scouring the house, you found a large first aid kit – not surprised Eddie reached for the alcohol first before looking for such a thing. Taking out large bandages, gauzes and padding, you bring them over to him to pad him out.

“See, this is why I need you in my life. You’re the brains and the beauty, I’m just the brawn” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, kneeling in front of him again, taking in his beauty.

“Eddie, I’m still in shock. I’m so happy you’re alive, my heart was truly obliterated when I thought you were gone. Ask Steve.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Did Steve look after you?”

“Yeah, as did Robin and Nance. Dustin was a mess as well, but he’s on the mend. They will be delighted you’re safe. But Eds, this is it again. We’re going one more try. I don’t know how I even ended up in here, I was in the trailer park and then felt myself being dragged. Next thing I know, I’m in the upside down. I’m here to fight this son of a bitch once and for all. The power source is here at the trailer park, and I will destroy it, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Eddie looks at you with admiration and fear. Admiration for the fact you were determined to fight this and finish the fight, but fear as he wasn’t for losing you again.

“I need to find a way to communicate to the guys, my walkie has no chance. I need to let them know that I’m down here and need to find a gate. We need to fight this on our side. Not here.”

Nodding, Eddie takes your hand, “Well baby, I have a lot of lights…” Smirking, you run to the cupboard and take them out.

“Speaking of communicating, I did try to communicate with you, well not maybe directly but I was hoping in some strange way you’d maybe hear me or maybe so you wouldn’t forget about me. But I’m not very well versed in communicating from down here, the signal isn’t the best.” He teased.

You were confused, “How?”

“Well, I used to play a lot of music, it was how I got my day in. There must have been some sort of weird mind manipulation I was hoping to achieve, and I suppose it sort of worked? Just really played our song on repeat. Don’t-”

“You – Simple Minds. It was you. They all said I was crazy.”

He smirked in response, “No, but how did you hear?”

“El. She was trying to home in on any ideas of where to find Vecna, and any clues as to what his next move was.”

“Well, that makes me feel a bit better, there was some use in what I was doing.”

You giggled, sighing. Taking in the silence.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“I could never forget you.”

He took your face in his large hands and planted a firm kiss on your lips. How you missed them, and him in general. He was your life, no doubts. After absorbing in the pleasant aftermath of your kiss, you jump back into business.

“Okay, I know they were headed for the Creel House. We need to get there or find a portal at the very least - something. Where’s your bike?”

“Out in the yard. There’s a basket in the front, you could perch there while I pedal?”

You laugh in his face, “Oh no sunshine, you’re cycling nowhere. You’re getting wrapped up warm, and I will cycle – I can’t risk anything else happening to you here.” Eddie sighed but knew there was no point arguing with you.

Going outside, you kept check for bats or anything else that shouldn’t have been near, but it was all clear. Mounting the bike, you rang the bell on the front, summoning Eddie to the front door. He came out in a hoodie, and a red blanket wrapped right round him and his head. Jumping up, he sat in the basket while you burst out into laughter.

“Okay, E.T., let’s get you home.”

Eddie squawked out laughter, but cried, “Sweetheart, please don’t make me laugh, it hurts!”

Taking off cycling, you cycled up toward the trailer park gates when something dragged you again. Crashing onto seriously hard ground, you open your eyes and find yourself back in the real world again. Looking round you couldn’t see Eddie and broke down crying realising it was all in your imagination.

“Sweetheart?” turning round, you saw him standing behind you, still looking like E.T. You bounced up and hugged him tightly, “Tssss, watch Sweets, still sore up here.”

“Sorry, I am so sorry.” You sobbed into his blanket and neck. Bouncing up remembering your objective for coming here. Get Wayne out. Get the power off, draining the place of any energy, or as much as you could. Then? Get the hell out of there.

“Eds, I need to get Wayne. Do you want to wait here? It might be too big of a shock for him so soon.”

“No, I don’t want to be left alone.” And that statement broke your heart. You took his hand in yours, avoiding the spot which looked like a pothole, but was much more ominous in outcome, rushing down toward the trailer. You burst open the door, not even knocking.

“Wayne?! Wayyyne!!?!”

“Girl, girl, what’s the matter?”

“Wayne, thank God – we need to get you out of here, but first. I need you to sit.”

“Y/N-”

“Please Wayne, it’s important.”

You began to explain the events of today to Wayne. He just stared at you like you had lost all marbles. “Sweet girl,-”

“No Wayne, listen I know it sounds crazy, but – Eds, come in.”

Eddie sheepishly walked in, “Hi Unc…”

Wayne looked like he saw a ghost, for his mind he was witnessing just that.

“Wayne, it’s a long story and we will tell you, but for now? We really have no time. We need to get out of here.”

He just stared at Eddie, wordlessly. You helped him up out of the chair, and in doing so, he ran over to Eddie and hugged him with all his might. Eddie cried into his shoulder. The scene was so heart warming in itself, but you were on a mission. You lifted the keys to Wayne’s truck,

“Boys, I love you both, but right now – we need to get out of here.”

You took Wayne to the local shelter to reside, meanwhile you tried to hook your walkie back in again and change to the frequency the guys were on.

“Crew Crew, this is Shredder, over.”

Static sounded the air. Eddie broke the silence, “Shredder?”, you waved him off for now.

“Crew Crew, this is Shredder, over.”

Static once more. You were about to call again, when a voice broke,

“Shredder Shredder, this is Sitter, over.” You giggled at Steve’s codename. You saw Eddie’s smirk grow hearing his friend’s voice once more.

“Sitter, this is Shredder, where are you all? Over.”

“Shredder, this is Sitter, we are all at the Byers’. Where are you? Over.”

“Sitter, this is Shredder, I am back at the trailer park. Will I pull the stop? Over.”

“Shredder, this is Sitter, confirmed. Pull the plug. Meet us at Byers’ after. Over.”

“This is Shredder, copy that. Pulling now. Over.”

You start making your way to the power banks, just outside the park. Eddie closely follows, “What do you need me to do Sweetheart?”

“Pull this plug, and I’ll do the other. The wires need cut too – I buried these earlier.”

Pushing away soil from the area, you draw out a set of wire cutters. Eddie smirks, “My, my, what a bad little bird I have turned you into.” You smirk in return, “Shut up, and get cutting Bat Boy.”

“Oh, you hurt my feelings darlin’… I might just die of a broken heart!”

“Eddie, don’t even joke about dying again!”

“What are you going to do about it sweetheart?” he says smirking

Both of you turned the power off and cut all wires connecting to the power bank. It was all you could do – it was a little job, but according to El, it was vital in the success of the group. You both made your way back to the truck.

Eddie stops, “So, erm, Shredder? What’s that all about?”

You start blushing, “Well, erm, okay – you can’t laugh!” Eddie laughs and holds his hands up in defence.

“Okay, well, Dustin obviously was there for your ‘concert’.”

“Yes, and?”

“Well, I was so proud of you, and just watched you with sheer amazement at a, your talent, and b, your bravery. So, Dustin saw how I was looking at you, and told everyone else, so now I get the codename ‘shredder’ because of how I reacted when you, quote on quote, ‘shredded’ that song on guitar.”

Eddie stares at you and bursts out laughing. “Eddie! I told you, you couldn’t laugh!!” You responded laughing yourself.

“Sorry Sweetheart, sorry. I’m flattered, honestly, that little old me could have such an effect on a diamond like you.”

You lightly push his shoulder, “C’mon – let’s get to the Byers’”

Driving to the Byers’ was so pleasant, any time you had with your boy was a great win. Stopping outside the home, you both got out and approached the front door. You were greeted by Dustin, who let out “Hi Y/N-” before swiftly hitting the deck. You rushed over to him, attempting to wake him. You shouted for Steve to come and help, which he did, but he also hit the deck as soon as he saw who was standing behind you.

“For Christ’s sake!” you shouted as you entered the house, stepping over the two fainters.

“Right, before we go any further, this is as huge a shock to you all, as it was to me. Eddie, come in.” Robin half-laughs, “Y/N, please we have to get over this, Eddie is-”

Jonathan cuts her off, “Right here.”

Eddie walks in and waves to everyone. He’s bombarded with everyone rushing to hug him, ask him how he is, what happened, anything. You meanwhile were trying to bring Dustin and Steve round. Luckily Joyce had some smelling salts which you brought to the two boys and revived them.

Everyone was catching up, but you were back with all of your favourite people, planning to prepare the take downs of all take downs. This time you would all win. This time no one was getting hurt. This time it was done. For good.

[eliotlime]

November update post thing

Drawing of me watching short-form video content without sound vs one where I am lol

If you use short-form video platforms of any kind and would like to help me with my survey you can do so here! Though I'll probably be closing it sometime next week (2nd November 2024 ish) to collate the data for submission.

I've got a metric tonne of deadlines due next week but you know what it's blog update time!!

This is also not going to be scheduled to post because I usually write these on the 29th but I forgot! So it's getting posted now!!

💀 School..

Yeap as I've said I'm in school so that's still in progress, I have completely no idea what I'm doing everyday and as it turns out no time to worry about it either I got deadlines baby!!!

I mean in theory I understand but it's all a big question mark to me, like i need to be reassured like a nervous dog that I'm doing the right thing and what not

And because of that I'm real sorry about pushing the Abacelsus zine to the back burner, I actually got quite a lot of it done before I had to lock in for school of course.

And though I said I had a lot of sketches I didn't post well they were shittier than I liked them to be so I wanted to make it look nicer. Oh well dems the breaks.

Another screenie of my school work, they didn't really go into depth about how to specifically design stuff so it's basically me frankenstien-ing stuff I've seen existing and just trying my best lol

I mean.. overall it's funnnn... i guess... I do like projects but everyone in my class are adults with established jobs or goals. Even those who are around my age seem to know what they're aiming for too, feels like I'm an unemployed little sucker fumbling in the dark. Can be humiliating I won't lie, why is learning something new so embarrassing?

Aside from that I'm seeing people be so social online while studying too and it's almost mesmerizing, it's definitely survivor bias but those that can balance it are fascinating to me.

📖Anthology Update

Agh enough of that debbie downer bullshit, I'll tell you what I've also got due next week! That's right!! The drafts for my anthology!

Screenie of one of the panels I posted onto my ko-fi discord!

I'm not even half way done and it's due on the 6th of December. I'm beyond FUCKED. Anyway I can get it done by then but the school shit is sucking the life out of me through my ears.

☕ Ko-Fi Page

Deadlines aside I've also randomly launched my Ko-fi Membership page! I haven't quite had the time to properly promote it but it's there and I've been updating it every so often

I've got stuff up there already and comics of things that aren't polished (or sfw) enough for me to post. Especially if you're interested in my characters and would like to support me, here's a good hub to check all of it out!

The Ko-fi Discord updates the most frequently, basically every time I draw anything (Which is quite often!). The actual ko-fi gallery is only being updated every week to prevent spam.

Shout out to my one ko-fi member, wormfriend. Right now it's quite funny to have just the one but I definitely would like more so plz join!!! I promise I draw a lot!!!

🌯 Wrapping it up...

That's all I've got for you this month, real grind-y and uneventful but hey some moths are like that. I talked about opening my commissions again in December and I intend to keep that promise but as of yet the first week is not looking too hot haha. I'll consider it on the 7th but whuff it's real packed right now!

I don't have really anything else to say or add that isn't either

a) incredibly negative and self deprecating

or

b) cussing the shit out of disrespectful transphobic anonymous asks I've been getting

so I'm just going to end this hastily written blog update here and get back to work!

I leave you with this cool down drawing of a honda civic and my attempts at a motorcycle that can also hover in the air.

As always thank you so much for reading and I've been so busy I haven't even had time to work on my annual redraw that's been sitting in my folders gah! If you’d like to support me, here’s my ko-fi page again and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[allthingsfangirl101]

Unlike Anyone Else – Glen Powell

Masterlist

Glen walked into the coffee shop, hiding his cringe behind a smile when people started noticing him. He walked up to the counter and ordered his coffee from a very excited barista. This has been happening a lot more since his role in Top Gun: Maverick. It got even crazier after Twisters.

As he waited for his coffee, he stood off to the side, using his phone to avoid making eye contact with anyone. When his name was called, he walked up and grabbed his coffee. He turned around but pumped into someone.

"I am so sorry," Glen panicked. "Did I get any on you?"

"Don't worry about it," the young woman shrugged. He looked up at her, instantly noticing how beautiful she was.

"I didn't spill my coffee on you?" He double-checked.

"I'm all good," she chuckled.

"Coffee for Y/N!"

"Excuse me," the woman smiled. Glen was slightly shocked as she walked past him and got her drink. He expected her to walk back over and talk to him, but she sat down at a table in the corner. He couldn't help but watch her pull out her laptop from her bag. She took a drink of her coffee and over the cup, noticed Glen was still watching her.

She sent him a wink before going back to work. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him debating something. She hid her smirk behind her coffee when he made up his mind and walked over to her.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," she smiled as she sat back. "But can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he shrugged as he sat across from her. 

"You always stare at a woman after almost spilling your coffee down her shirt?"

"Only the special few," Glen winked at her.

"Last time I checked, there weren't twisters in LA," she smirked.

Glen chuckled awkwardly as he ran his fingers through my hair. "You know," he sighed, "for a second there, I thought you didn't recognize me."

"Please," Y/N laughed, "the second you walked in, everyone recognized you. I doubt you can go anywhere without being noticed."

"That is true," he sighed. Y/N studied him.

"You okay, Hollywood?"

"I'm fine," he laughed a little too forcefully.

"It's okay not to be," Y/N shrugged as she took another sip of her coffee. "After a rough day at work, I got to the nearby bar and drink and drink and drink. If it's a really bad day, I go home with a sexy stranger."

"That sounds like a wonderful plan," Glen chuckled. "What do you do for work?"

"I'm a lawyer," she explained, "currently working toward partner."

"That's awesome. You close?"

"Hell yeah," Y/N laughed. "I basically do everything in the office. Not only do I handle my cases, but my coworkers always seem to need my help."

"Damn," Glen smirked. He looked down at her empty coffee cup and had an idea of how to keep her here. "You got time for another coffee or do you need to rush back to work before the firm falls apart?"

"I've got some time," she shrugged. "If you're buying."

"I'll be right back," Glen winked. He stood up and ordered another coffee for her. As he waited at the counter, he looked over his shoulder and watched Y/N answer her phone. He watched as her whole demeanor changed as she spoke to whoever was on the other side of that phone call.

She hung up as he walked over. "Everything okay?" He asked, suddenly worried she might have to leave.

"Everything is fine," she sighed, not sounding convincing. "Just morons at my office that don't know how to staple paper, let alone talk to a client." She looked up, her face slightly reddening when she saw him staring at her. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice lightening up. "Work is just. . . a lot."

"Sounds like you need something stronger than a cappuccino," he tried to tease.

"That's for sure," she mumbled. "Then again, it's not even 10 o'clock. But I will definitely be making a stop at a bar after work."

* * * * *

They spent the morning, talking about their jobs and their lives. The entire time, Glen couldn't believe that this amazing girl didn't care who he was. Not once did she treat him like a famous actor.

Y/N sighed when her phone rang for the third time. "I'm sorry," she sighed before answering her phone. "What now, Caleb?"

Glen sat back and watched as her facial expression changed. "We have gone over this so many times," she sighed. "The case files are not. . . Yes, the client. . . You know something Caleb, I'm getting awfully tired of doing my job and the job of my assistant."

She hung up and her eyes softened when she looked at him. "I should really go. I'm half-expecting my office to be on fire when I get there."

"Well," Glen sighed as the two stood up, "if your office is on fire, call me."

"And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Hollywood?" She smirked.

"Run into the building and save you," he said like it should've been obvious.

"Can't have you doing that," she chuckled. She reached up and patted his face, as she added, "This pretty face is your job. Can't risk anything happening to it."

* * * * *

Glen tried to go about his day, but his mind was constantly on the woman he met at the coffee shop this morning.

"What's with you?" His manager, Andrew, asked when he walked into the hair and makeup trailer and saw Glen staring absentmindedly at his phone.

"Nothing," Glen stuttered. "Just. . . distracted."

"Who?"

"What?"

"Only a woman can make a man. . . distracted," Andrew laughed. "Who is she? Coworker? Neighbor? Friend?"

"Nothing like that," Glen sighed as he put his phone down. "Just a random girl I met at my coffee shop this morning."

"Wow," Andrew chuckled as he sat next to him. "What's her name?"

"Y/N."

"By the look on your face and the way you smiled when you said her name, something tells me you actually talked to her."

"I did," Glen chuckled. "We talked for over an hour, but her work pulled her away."

"What does she do for work?"

"She's a lawyer."

Andrew studied Glen as Glen thought about Y/N. "Did you ask her out?" Andrew asked.

"No," Glen sighed.

"Did you get her number?"

"No," Glen said, clearing his throat.

"Do you know what law firm she works at?"

"No," he said, looking down at his phone. "All I know is her name is Y/N, she is a lawyer, and she likes to go to the bar close to the coffee shop."

"There you go," Andrew shrugged.

"What?"

"You know where she's going to be, right?"

"Well, yeah. I do, but. . .Oh."

After work, Glen headed to the bar. The second he walked in, he searched for Y/N. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw her sitting alone at the bar.

"Fancy meeting you here," Glen chuckled as he sat at the bar next to Y/N.

"Really?" She smirked. "You just happened to show up at the bar I was telling you about this morning?"

"I always come here."

"Mmhmm," she rolled her eyes as she took a drink.

"Can I buy you a round?"

"How about more than just one?"

* * * * *

The next morning, Glen woke up to an empty bed. He ignored the feeling of disappointment when he realized Y/N was gone. He spent the entire morning, slowly getting ready for the day.

As he drove to the set, his thoughts were only on Y/N.

He thought about the coffee shop. He thought about the bar. He thought about the night they spent together. He thought about the feeling he got when he looked down and saw her asleep on his chest.

He hated himself for not getting her number. He hated himself for letting her leave without kissing her goodbye. He hated himself for not asking her out on a proper date.

He vowed to do whatever it takes to find her.

[loweffortopinions]

Holy Maker, the dialogue in Veilguard is even worse when you look closer at it. Just look at this:

Rook: "I'm guessing you're the reason we're here." Lucanis: "Who are you? Who sent you?" Rook: "My name is Rook. Caterina sent me." Lucanis: "Caterina… But you're not a Crow." Rook: "I'm breaking you out of here, but… what are you?" Neve: "Rook. He's possessed by a demon. "Lucanis: "It's complicated." Rook: "Caterina promised us a mage killer if we broke you out of here." Lucanis: "I can still work." Rook: "Good. Because I'm pretty sure more Venetori are on their way. We have to get moving." Lucanis: "They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me. I cannot leave it in their hands. And… I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here—Calivan. Crows don't break contracts." Rook: "All right, we'll help. But in return, I want help killing some things." Lucanis: "I'll owe you." Rook: "I'm sure we'll owe each other before this is all over. Let's go."

Just a few problems off the top of my head:

Caterina already promised that Lucanis would help us if we break him out. So… he double owes us already I guess?

I honestly didn’t realize he was possessed until Neve beat me over the head with it. At most I figured he was a mage, but with how the classes are designed, there was no guarantee for that since all classes look like mages now. Nothing clueing you in slowly... just BAM: THISMANISPOSSESSEDDIDYOUKNOW?

So you find out he’s buddy-buddy with a demon and no one’s freaking out? Why is everyone acting like this is normal? “Oh, hey, it’s Abomination Tuesday. Moving on.”

And I swear he repeats the whole “Crows don’t break contracts” thing in the very next scene with Calivan. I just… can’t.

There is probably more: Feel free to add your own thoughts. There is more scenes under the cut if anyone is interested in looking at the dialoge with Calivan, and the reunion in Treviso. Feel free to use it however you want (It should be word for word but I might've missed something).

Meeting and fighting Calivan

Calivan (target): "Ugh, this was entirely unnecessary. Zara and her little jests. 'He's already the Demon of Vyrantium! Won't this be ironic?'" (Lucanis smiles bitterly at the comment.)

Calivan: "Hilarious. And now look at the mess you've made of my facility. She always leaves me to clean up."

Rook: "So this is Calivan."

Lucanis: "He is. The target I was sent for a year ago. A Crow never abandons a contract."

(Note: *snort* Did both of them just ignore Calivans entire monloge?)

(Fight ensues. Calivan is cocky at first but grows desperate, talking about not wanting to be a victim or something similar.)

Lucanis: (Exhales) "The Crows send their regards." (He seems pleased that the contract is finished.)

Rook: "So we got your target."

Lucanis: "Yes. The job's done."

Spite: (Inhales) "Smells like blood. Ashes. Not done. Not yet."

Rook: "Lucanis... Are you all right? Lucanis? What are you looking at?"

Spite: "Careful. They know. We're not right."

Lucanis: "You cannot see him. I wondered."

Rook: "We clearly have things to discuss. Somewhere else."

Lucanis: "Agreed. I think... it's time I got some air. Shall we go?"

Rook: "I'm ready to get out of this place."

Lucanis: "Imagine how I feel."

1. The Spite reveal is so goofy, and unimmersive: The player can see Spite, but Rook can't. I just find this to be an extremly lazy way of doing things. Further, the "reveal" was ruined in the previous scene since Neve has already told us exactly what's wrong with Lucanis.

2. So... nobody really gives a shit about Calivan? I thought there might be a bit more... relief, killing the dude that's responsible for the hellhole you've been "living" in for the past year. I mean, the monologue was awful, but to just ignore him entirely...?

3. There are many unneccesary lines like "We got your target". Yes, yes we did. He's lying right there, on the floor. Dead. The pacing suffers.

Reunion in Treviso

You walk into the Diamond, there are dead Crows on the floor.)

Teia: "Maker..."

Viago: "Lucanis?"

Lucanis: "What happened here?"

Illario: (Bangs table) "A message. From Zara Renata."

Illario: "I can't believe it. You're home." (Approaches and touches Lucanis' shoulder.)

Lucanis: "Zara... her people got this close?"

Rook: "The woman who runs the prison?"

Lucanis: "The Venetori witch who captured me."

Rook: "Revenge for the breakout, maybe?"

Lucanis: "Where's Caterina?"

Teia: "She's..."

Viago: (Comforts her) "The Venetori got her in the confusion."

Illario: "I get one of you back, only to lose the other."

Rook: "Lucanis... I'm so sorry."

Lucanis: "I need to work."

Teia: "Are you sure? You should take some time."

Lucanis: "I don't need time. I need a target."

Illario: "You just got here, and already you want to leave again?"

Lucanis: "Caterina gave me a contract. I'm not breaking the last deal she ever made. And I owe Rook. Once that's done... I'll come home."

Rook: "I'll return him in one piece."

Illario: "Thank you. Illlario: Cousin. When you find Zara, I want—I need—to be there."

Viago: "We're under attack. Antaam on one side, and now Venetori on the other? Forget revenge, we need you—"

Teia: "No. Viago. Zara came for us here. In my house. She took Caterina from my house."

Teia: "You find her and cut her heart out, Lucanis. Vi and I will hold down the fort."

Lucanis: "I'll give her your regards, Teia."

Teia: "For Caterina."

This last one is so very... disjointed. It feels like they're talking past each other half the time. And suddenly they remember; right EXPOSITION. It feels very random that they bring up the Antaam here.

Rook could've been silent this entire conversation, and it wouldn't make a difference; nothing they say contribute to the conversation. The only one that really reacts to them is Illario, barley.

So Lucanis is tasked with taking care of two Gods, AND to take care of Zara? The guy who just got out of prison, and is possessed? Fucking hell, the guy doesn't get a break. Sure, he says he wants to work... But just maybe someone else could deal with Zara, considering the contract he just undertook?

[corvid-language-library]

Could you honestly recommend living in Japan? I love Japan a lot and often think of moving there but everyone says that it's better not to. How's your experience? Sorry if you've already answered this!

Hi there!

I guess it depends on what you want and what's important to you. Also, who's telling you it's better not to and why? People who live in Japan? People who have lived here and went back? People who've never lived in Japan, but have heard that it's not a good place to live?

Personally, I love living in Japan! I love my job, I love the beautiful nature I'm surrounded by here in Yamagata, I love the reasonably-priced, clean and convenient public transport, I love having the opportunity to use Japanese every day, I love the delicious food I can get, I love that I can use cash for anything and everything, I love how safe it is (I frequently walk around at night with my headphones in, and I rarely lock my front door when I'm home), I love the very unique experience of living in a country whose culture is so wildly different from my own.

There are things I don't love too. The summer is brutal, even up here in the north. People's attitudes towards neurodiversity are pretty backwards. I know for most people the work culture is too much (I don't really feel that in my company tbh), and being far away from my family can make me a little sad sometimes (not usually bc I have a strained relationship with most of my family, but there are times I miss them). Finding clothes that fit can be challenging for some. There's also the question of salary (the yen is pretty weak atm).

With all those things in mind, I can understand why some people would say it's better not to live in Japan. But also, it's pretty easy to get a working holiday visa or come here to teach ESL for a year. If moving to Japan is something you're considering, then I really think you should try it! If you don't like it, you can go back. If there's one thing I've learned from experience - and this applies to many things in life, not just moving abroad - it's that it's better to be the person who gives things a shot than the one wishing they were that person.

So can I recommend living in Japan? Maybe, maybe not. Do I recommend giving it a go if you're able? Absolutely, 100%. Come here and see for yourself! If you have specific questions about anything to help you make your decision, feel free to ask away :)

[ryaanross]

Oh no that makes more sense. Here's me imagining you had an entire forest up in your attic and each year you go up and chop your tree down. I think everyone's attic is a flustercluck, do you decorate for every holiday? I guess I don't mind, but you're right, chosen family is better. If we ever do anything it's always low-key but right before Thanksgiving, my friend Z puts on a concert in LA, she sings and asks a bunch of friends to join her for duets. I am often one of them. It's my one good deed a year. My parents split up when I was very small, my mother didn't want much of a relationship with me so I gave up trying and we haven't had much communication. My father has been dead for 18 years, my half-brothers are somewhere in the world, we exchange pleasantries from time to time, but that's all, the rest of my family are either no longer with us or have no interest in communication and I am protecting my own peace by respecting their wishes. I'm 5'11, but I have very long limbs so it gives the impression that I am like Slenderman.. I love animals, I used to volunteer at a dog shelter when I was a kid, I just used to pick up shit. It was the best job I ever had. What kinds of dogs do you have? I think Ethel and Dottie sound like they'd get along! The tortoises ran into an unfortunate incident with my dad and his lawnmower. I had a beagle called Hobo, she was stolen from me by an ex girlfriend. I still think about that dog. My salamander was called Lickabod Crane, he just died, I don't know why. My Bengal cat was called Captain Knots, my ex manager let him outside, even though he was an indoor cat and could only go outside on a leash because Bengals are prolific bolters, and he bolted and I looked pretty much all over LA, for months and he never came home. I also had a bloodhound called Elwood, he was a wise old sage, and part dinosaur.

oh my gosh, no. i need to learn to english better. i meant my decorations! not the christmas tree itself. my whole attic is a flustercluck of different decorations from all the holidays, honestly. it's a madhouse up there. this might be a very rude question, and i'm sorry in advance for any other rude questions that might come outta me, but where is your family? if you don't mind me asking.. chosen family is sometimes better than blood, so i'm glad that you have them! did y'all have a huge shindig or something lowkey? awe, that's sweet of you, weird stranger! i'm good, though, but in the future if i need to vent i'll be sure to hit you up. ten feet and up is to excessive to me. i don't know.. you gotta be a giant to get even half your bulbs and lights on that thing! i'm 5'2 and fun sized. at least what i tell everyone. how tall are you? okay, i may have just fallen a little in wuv with you. you're adorable with your love of animals. and those names! i'm a fan. i also have two doggos. elvis is my oldest and ethel is the youngest. what were the names of your other pets? what happened to them? i need to hear alllllll about them.

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis truly has a near terminal case of burned out golden child syndrome. caterina fucked both of these kids over so incredibly bad with the dynamic she enforced there, with illario being labled the perpetual fuckup kid where lucanis 'could do no (would never be allowed to do) wrong'. the way he admits in the first coffee date scene that the only thing that happened when he showed he could carry the weight of expectation was that more weight was added makes me so sad. you can hear it in caterina's voice in his intro mission that she's incredibly proud of him, but this is clearly a leandra and hawke situation where that pride never translates into relief or resolution or unconditional warmth or understanding or anything that really helps.

[lesamis]

📠

one thing i like about the new job is that public service really drives home how diverse and interesting any random sample of people actually is. you kind of can't keep thinking that there's one single way in which ordinary life typically goes when you're dropped into the middle of other people's lives on a daily basis. like within two weeks at a public service job in the most boring town imaginable someone will come in and be like hi i'm blind, can i have some adjustments for my advanced degree. hi my grandmother died, can i have an extension. hi i moved here from taiwan literally two months ago and misunderstood some instructions, can i repeat this process. hi i'm competing at the olympics, can i put my studies on hold.

there's just this certain kind of rhetoric that wants to make you belive that A Normal Person is this or that and their life goes this or that way, when really there's no limit to the chaos of human experience or to the endlessly new-shuffled variations of Circumstances and i'd defy anyone who believes otherwise to keep believing it after one day in public service

[dbphantom]

Listen if you're gonna send me an ask about why I shouldn't interact with a person, can you at least do it off anon so I can request actual proof privately? I'm not replying to these since the only way to respond to them is publicly and I don't want to contribute to an unsubstantiated rumor about someone. That's not fair.