#at least on melvins side

[frenchkanna1808]

The idea that some Milkyway have that if byler isn’t canon we would all just delete our blogs, like no😂. That’s scream iv’e never been in a fandom before. It’s true some people might but it doesn’t mean that we would all just stop existing. A ton of non cannon ship still have a very active fanbase. I would still ship byler even if they were not cannon. No guys if byler not cannon i’m gonna stay just to spite these people, i’m gonna stay a stranger things fan but very disappointed in the show and the duffers brother, it might taint my appreciation of the show in general even if the ending was exceptional. But still i’m gonna stay because i know that byler would have been the literal best ending for the show. I can live on byler not cannon. But there is one thing that will turn me into a comic book super villain is stancy  cannon. Oh i would prefer a thousand time the the older teens all single than that horrible mess incomprehensible ship being cannon. The duffer brother would become my sworn arch nemesis .

[waywardmillennial]

Puppet History Trailer Breakdown

The PH season seven trailer dropped on Watcher TV today and I'm going to try to break it down New Rockstars style - so settle in because this is a long one!

disclaimer: I am an oxymoron of a human who notices lots of details and misses other clues - so I might not have caught everything but I tried!

[s7 trailer easter eggs and spoiler-y thoughts under the cut]

The trailer opens with the Professor looking at the billboard for Phorgedytol, the tagline of which reads "(something) WITH YOUR BRAIN"

[note: this is different to the Phorgedytol billboard we see at the end of the trailer that reads "FRENCH THE VOID!"]

the first shot of Ryan in the trailer is from the episode with Aria Inthavong

behind them on the bookshelf you can see what I think is a brachiosaurus (from the late Jurassic era), a pair of alpacas, and the Genie lamp very prominently displayed!

then we cut to this interaction Ryan: How long has it been since we've been in class? to which the Professor gives a very non-committal "Uhhhh...."

[Interesting, no? Possible side-effect of the Professor taking Phorgedytol maybe?]

then we cut to guest Alex Song-Xia with a possibly foreboding comment

[this probably has no lore implications but I like that there's a framed copy of this photo that Ryan tweeted in 2021 on the set]

the trailer continues with the Professor talking to the guests

then the trailer cuts to what could be a major lore drop with Ryan saying, "You keep my wife's name out of your god damn mouth!" as he marches to the theater to slap the Professor

[notice how this is in black and white -that's the trailer edit not mine- so perhaps this is a flashback of some kind? Maybe to something that happened to make the Professor want to take Phorgedytol?]

Remember in s6 Ryan and the Professor were friends (see: the JC Penney photoshoot) so seeing a moment like this in the trailer is, for lack of a better phrase, a slap in the face

Based on what all the guests are wearing in the trailer it looks like The Slap will happen in Claudia's episode, based on the shot right before Ryan gets out of the chair (their reaction face is gorgeous btw)

we get a great out of context line from Sara Rubin

and the Professor talking about his anatomy with Brennan

Then the Lore Drop Hits

[yeah the rest of this was just a drop in the bucket in this trailer tbh]

The cuts happen fairly fast with overlapping VO - I posted most of the main shots earlier and there are some shots of the history skits that I skipped to focus on the Lore. These shots also have some alt descriptions in this post of things I noticed on the rewatch

VO Script Mysterious Puppet: No, you louse. You sops. You absolute men. Ryan: Well, this is collusion. They clearly- Professor: That's not collusion. Ryan: It's collusion! You guys fucking figured it out before this. Brennan: Just get on his wavelength, man. Professor: Get on my level! Ryan: You're just not ready for the truth!

[First reactions: The Professor is wearing a party hat for a lot of this trailer, and so is the new puppet. So they must have been at the same party. Also, the Professor is standing in front of a sign that reads "Six Nasty Seasons" even though this is the trailer for season seven. Is that from the season six wrap party? Could it also point to Phorgedytol symptoms that we're 'missing' a season?

The horse puppet looking through the door has a moustache, so is very likely not Dorothy Ruth or Stanley Melvin Murphy. Maybe DR's fiancé? This same moustachio'd horse is in the pasta scene

Hard to say which horse is walking towards The Brown Derby but fun to note that was a real chain of restaurants in LA starting in 1926]

Then the Professor meets with the new Shane character - shall we call them Patch for now?

and that's the trailer in a nutshell!

*Roll End Credits*

Other reactions:

Delighted that we get canon confirmation that the Professor goes by Connie McNasty, at least some of the time

Love that Joyce and Garrett are back this season!

The noir, old Hollywood vibes of this trailer are gorgeous and overall it looks really well-made!

I hope we get some explanation for the slap that's not Ryan and the Professor becoming enemies again

the Liza Minelli* of it all

Not too sure on many theories at this point, but I'm sure it's going to be a great (but maybe nail-biting) season!

[creatingblackcharacters]

(Asking on behalf of a friend who doesn't have Tumblr)

Do you (or your followers) have any recommendations on books for elementary-middle school aged kids specifically that feature positive Black dads? My friend's kiddo is mixed, and his dad passed away when he was very small. He's had some pretty gross things said to him about Black men being absent fathers, and he's mentioned he wishes there were more books with Black dads (he's a big reader in general, genre doesn't really matter).

The problem my friend's been having is that a lot of books for that age range, the parents are not super involved in the story, because that leaves room for the child characters to have adventures where a reasonable parent IRL would say "hell no you're not solving crimes/fighting monsters/whatever, you're ten years old."

I'm sure books with Black dads are out there, it's just been hard to find because that's not something you can plug into the library search catalog and get any results.

Well first, it breaks my heart that they're already treating him like that at ten. It's not surprising, but still hurtful. He can't help that his dad is damn dead, like wow.

My first piece of advice is actually not on the books, but on the kid himself. Does your friend take him to visit his father's family? Is he involved in any programs led by Black men, like the Alpha Esquires or something? The presence of positive Black men in his life, while not making up for the loss of his father, will give him a community that understands him. Will give him that reinforcement that no, Black men are not neglectful parents (actually, it's been studied that Black American fathers spend more time with their kids on average than White ones. Oop!) Even if it's just spending more time with that side of the family to share in his father's memory, culture and community, would help strengthen his bonds and make him feel less alone.

As for the list of books, obviously you can go to the library for them but here are some i found. Try searching "elementary books about Black fatherhood". I also tossed in a couple littler aged books about Black boyhood because tbh I think if he can't remember much, he could reminisce about the times when he was little with his dad.

As Brave As You- Jason Reynolds

Black Boy Magic- Tex Stanly

100 Things Black Boys Should Do and Know- Jason Huey

Daddy's Arms- Fabian Robinson

I wish I could find more for you right now. A lot of the books are approaching from the Dad's side of things, and even with kids it focuses more on the daughters, so I'm seeing. I hope I could at least point you in the right direction!

[hiskillingjar]

nobody else but you

Relationship: Strade/OC Rating: Explicit Contains: Forced Feminisation, Misgendering, Vaginal Sex, Choking Length: 1750+ words

another wonderful request from @snuffk1t for his OC, melvin, thanks so much again, spencer! <3

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

"You haven't been keeping a close eye on your testosterone, have you?"

Melvin looked up from his space on the bed, as Strade lazily unbuttoned his overshirt, revealing inch after inch of hot, tan skin, warmed by the setting, summer sun outside the window. 

It has been a hard day of surviving for him, and he was in the mood to just live, if he could.

"Why do you say that?" Melvin asked, a pierced tongue idly running over his lips as Strade tossed aside his shirt, revealing a roll of hair-fuzzed fat that pooled over the waistband of his khakis, and planted his knee at the end of the bed.

He had a way of making him feel small, making him feel like prey, like the animals he used to torture and pull apart a lifetime ago.

He had the good sense that Strade would have liked to pull him apart, too, and he didn't hate that idea nearly as much as he should have.

"Ah, I'm just making an observation…” Strade replied with a shrug, before looking towards the younger man with a smile, casual and absent-minded as ever, always the innocent party when he so rarely actually was. “But, ah,” He cut himself off with a chuckle and shook his head, his casual smile broadening into one more teasing and malicious - a familiar expression on his handsome face. “You really haven't noticed anything new? Anything…changing? Anything developing?"

"Noticed...what? You're, heh,” Melvin laughed too, trying to be as casual as his captor (and rarely managing it), as Strade crawled towards him at the bed’s headboard, before placing a hand on his shoulder and forcing him down the mattress, pinning the younger man in place with the authority that he was used to. "You're kind of freaking me out, here..."

"Mm, don't worry. There's no reason to be freaked out!” Strade replied, looming over him and using his knees to nudge his legs apart, opening him up, ripe and ready for the taking (like an animal skin about to be stuffed with cotton and wire). “You've got me looking after you, after all, don't you, meine liebe?"

Melvin took in a slow inhale as Strade raised his knee and pressed it to the front of his shorts, torn between the desire to keen up against it and chase the forbidden pleasure, or shy away from it. 

He knew enough German to know what that meant. 

And while he might have known that pulling away was the smarter option of the two, especially when Strade was in one of his playful moods, he didn’t always make the smartest of decisions. 

At least, when those decisions concerned Strade, anyway.

"Ngh…” He groaned lowly, pale eyes fluttering with lust as Strade ground his knees against the warmth of his shorts, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “W-what have you done?"

"You know how easy it is to get your medication online?” Strade then asked, looking down at the younger man, speaking casually (always so fucking casual), as if he was discussing dinner plans that evening. “It's almost...concerning how easy it is, you know, when you have the right supplier, the right links, know who to talk to."

"Mmf..." Melvin bit his lip, covering his trembling lips with a tight fist and feeling heat gather in his cheeks, as Strade’s hands descended to the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down his legs. 

"Well, maybe not completely right.” He then added with another laugh, canting his head to the side, his golden eyes narrowing with amusement and poorly concealed lust, before he flung Melvin’s shorts to the side and forced his legs wider to accommodate his broad body. “After all, they slipped up so easily, didn't they?"

"D-Did they?" Melvin asked, his voice starting to stutter with nerves and arousal.

"Mmhmm.” Strade nodded with a shit-eating smirk, in on a joke that he would never share with anyone else. “I actually noticed it when it first came in. They sent six months of estrogen-”

Melvin’s hazy eyes immediately widened as Strade spoke, each word slurring until it was barely audible under the ringing in his ears.

“Instead of the six months of testosterone injections that I ordered.” Strade kept speaking, though his voice sounded as if it was underwater. 

Like Melvin was floundering, suffocating, drowning on dry land, and Strade was continuing to make conversation, like nothing was happening at all, like nothing was wrong.

“Easy mistake to make though, ja? It could happen to anyone, really…" 

"...What?" Melvin then said, after a beat of pregnant silence.

Strade grinned, showing off wet, cannibal teeth.

"You reeeeally need to pay more attention to what you're doing, Melina~"

Melvin swallowed hard, feeling a sudden dryness in his throat that feltl like he was trying to swallow a golf ball.

"You're kidding. You're…heh…haha,” Melvin tried to laugh again, his giggles sounding almost hysterical (so typical of a woman, wasn't it?), trying to make Strade give up and admit the falsehood of the prank (knowing he wouldn’t). “Y-You're just pulling a sick joke on me, right? Aren't you?”

"I don't think so,” Strade replied, his grin shifting into his ever-casual smirk and his dark brows raised in a silent question, all while strong hands stroked up and down Melvin’s full hips and sides, and to his front. “I mean, haven't you noticed your body changing? You've gained more weight around your hips, your thighs…” His hands then forced the front of the younger man’s tank up to his stubbly chin, eliciting a short yelp from him. “Even your chest has filled out again. It's been pretty nice to watch, I have to admit." 

Strade then let out a bark of a laugh, before palming one of Melvin’s breasts roughly. 

“Who'd have known a greasy, little creepster like you would have a killer rack?!”

"N-No, that's not-” Melvin yelped again as Strade pinched a wide areola, rubbing the bud of his nipple to a perky point, all while grinding his knee down against his crotch, eliciting even more unwanted arousal. “That's just weight gain, it’s t-totally normal, NGH-!"

Melvin found his words cut short, as they so often were, though,. as Strade forced him against the bed, boxing in his wriggling body between solid biceps and thighs (made of pure, thick muscle), and pushing his crotch against his, so close that he could feel the swell of an erection through his khakis.

What wasn't this guy turned on by?

"Ah, it's a shame, isn’t it? You've undone aaaall your hard work, silly girl.” Strade drawled with another sick grin (clearly pleased by how much he was getting under the younger man’s skin), bringing his face down to Melvin’s, their bodies so close that Melvin could smell the sweat on his skin, (always so much thicker than his own, so much more masculine). “Yeah, it's a real shame. But there's nothing you can do about it now, is there? Best not to worry about it too much, hm?

"Ghhh, no, stop..." Melvin protested, taking in a shivering groan as Strade unbuckled his belt with one hand (he’d had plenty of practice, after all) and freed his erection from the confines of his trousers and boxers. “Stop, stop, stop, you can't be serious-”

"Who knows,��� Strade continued, keening his hips forward and brushing the weeping head of his cock against Melvin’s cunt, the warmth of his length making the younger man instantly tremble and writhe, inadvertently causing more friction between them. “Maybe if you keep taking your meds like a good girl-”

Melvin felt his cheeks flush at Strade’s filthy words, his insides twisting with incredibly dubious pleasure.

“I'll finally be able to knock you up for real. That would be a lot of fun, wouldn't it?~"

"Nnnnooo, no, that wouldn't be fun, gh," Melvin grimaced with poorly concealed discomfort as he felt Strade’s cock breach the entrance of his cunt, shamed at the easy access the older man found in his unrelenting slick. “S-Stopppuh…”

"Ah, ah, ah, I think the lady doth protest too much! I mean, just look how wet you're getting over this. You like it!” 

Strade laughed, cruel and gloating (as a captor should be), one hand holding Melvin’s soft hip tightly (tight enough to cause bruises), as the other reached up and pushed his hair out of his flushed face, sweat from his forehead and temples making the fried, dyed strands curl and soften. 

“Come on, don't lie to me and say you wouldn't enjoy being my little housewife…” Strade took in a low groan through his teeth, easing into the younger man even deeper, feeling his body tighten fantastically around his hard cock as he began to thrust. “Taking care of things around the house while I provide for you…like a good husband should, ja?”

"Hhhh..." Melvin exhaled shakily, feeling his body sink into the mattress and succumb to each of Strade’s firm thrusts, soft flesh meeting flesh in brutal, wet slaps. “No…hh…yes…” Melvin’s lips parted with a high, keening moan, before his teeth sank into his bottom lip. “God, k-keep going…”

"Yeah, that's what I thought.” Strade mumbled with a smile, looking almost triumphant (like a hunter kneeling over his fresh kill), his hand trailing down Melvin’s cheek and to his gasping throat. 

He then wrapped a strong grip around it and pinned his head down to the mattress, giving himself a lax body to easily fuck into, like a sex toy, like a real wife. 

“I think you'd like it a lot, Melina. I think you’re really, really like it."

"Fffuhh..." Melvin’s dry throat constricted even tighter, making the heat in his flushed face feel even hotter. His eyes grew hazy and unfocused, drifting from Strade’s face and to the banging headboard as the older man fucked into him with even more rigour. 

"That's it.” Strade praised, putting a little more pressure on his throat, his own lip between his teeth and his thrusts becoming a little faster and harder. “Just stay nice and blissed out on my cock, like a good girl does, and I'll take care of everything."

“Mm,” Melvin moaned before a shaking hand reached up to the one around his throat, claws digging into the thick meat of Strade’s wrist, (knowing he wouldn’t be able to push him away). “I’m a…I’m a good girl, hhh…”

“That’s it. Just give up.”

Melvin’s thighs tightened around Strade’s hips then, as he ran out of air to speak or to protest.

“Just give up~”

[mixedupmelody]

tough guy.

notes: someone needs to seriously make an effort to bruise these guys' ego a little. the t-birds in GENERAL need to come with a warning sign saying "Will Not Show Affection in Public".

contains: danny zuko x gender neutral reader , kenickie murdoch x female reader

characters: danny zuko, kenickie murdoch, t-birds and pink ladies (briefly mentioned)

warnings: swearing, suggestive themes and dialouge

. ☁️ .

꒰ danny. ꒱

“ 'S cool with me, baby. ” Danny holds a hand around your waist, taking care not to look into your eyes. God, he could stare at them for hours. He'd live a happy life if all he ever saw was those eyes. But he can't look at you. Not now. The T-Birds stare at him, almost as if they were waiting on their leader to slip up and say something cheesy. “ I'll see you after school, beautiful. ”

You press a quick kiss to his lips, before walking off to your next class. You knew his status meant something to him, and weren't trying to put him in an annoying spot with his friends. Danny's shoulders relax as you walk off, eyes trailing after you as if he could keep you next to him with his mind.

Danny is the leader of the T-Birds, so he's held to a somewhat higher standard than the rest of the guys. Out of all of them, he's suppossed to be the most macho, the most hard-headed, and the most gutsy member all into one. In between all the turf wars and fights at school, he's the face of their gang that let's everyone know he means business.

And then you came along. You managed to break through his tough exterior and unlock a sweeter, more sensitive side of him. He couldn't help but feel like a total melvin each time he dressed up nice to bring you flowers, or when he put his best efforts into not getting fresh with you when you invited him to your place to study after school.

To him, it's all worth it. Just seeing that smile on your face is enough to keep him going through the exhaustion he feels trying to keep his pure, romantic advancements under wraps.

꒰ kenickie. ꒱

Kenickie's hand reaches dangerously close to your ass as you sit with him at The Frosty Palace. As the T-Birds and Pink Ladies chat at their shared booth, Kenickie made sure to show off that he was a certified ladies man. And what better way to show that than messing around with his girl while they ate?

“ If these jokers keep this shitty conversation up, i'll just have to take ya' home for some real fun. ” You could tell he was practically working overtime tonight. With all those notes you left in his lunch, you were more than sure he was trying to make up the jokes he was subjected to. It's not that he really cared what the guys would think, they knew he would knock them out before they had the chance to flap their gums for too long, but it was a matter of dignity!

Kenickie Murdouch would rather die than let the guys think he's gone soft. He's a rockin', smooth talkin' rebel who's all bark. At least, until he started going steady with you. He feels all mixed up, wanting to treat you nice while also having to be on the look out for the other T-Birds.

God forbid you ever give him a tender kiss in front of his friends at school, or make him quiet a quick "i love you too" when you part ways in the halls. The guys will rip on him for as long as Kenickie will take it, making obnoxious kissing noises and jokingly threaten to take his second-in-command spot.

If they push him too far, he'll switch right back into greaser mode, and threaten to knock the living daylights out of them. They shut up quickly after that.

There's been at least one instance where you and Kenickie were on a date at The Frosty Palace, sharing a milkshake. As you two are talking, he laughs, slamming his hand on the table, and the milkshake splashes on the tip of his nose. When you go to clean his face for him, the other T-Birds barge in through those glass doors. It almost feels unreal how accurate their timing is. You hear a chorus of "oooo!"s as you clean his face, trying your best to calm your boyfriend down before he loses his cool.

You don't see his walls go down often, even when you're by yourselves. Give him time.

[diapydemon]

Classified: Punk Rock Little

Chapter 3

Read chapter 2 here

Name: Miles Miller

DOB: 06/01/2002

CIN: E25S6832

Citizen Lifestyle Assignment Sorting and Sectioning

(CLASS)

Result: Little

Miles tightened his grip around the letter to the point of almost tearing the parchment. Tears welled in his eyes as all the muscles in his body locked up with tension.

“Is that your CLASS result?” Lindsay looked up from her book across the room, “What does it say?”

“It– it… uhhh”

“What?”

Miles, tears welling in his eyes, had no idea what to say or what to do. He did the only reasonable thing he could think to do. He crumpled up the letter into his fist and bolted into his room, slamming and locking his door behind him.

“Miles,” Lindsay knocked on the door, “Come on out. It's just Dylan and I out here anyway.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Miles shouted from the other side of the door.

“Oh stop being a baby,” Lindsay retorted.

“SHUT UP,” the distress was obvious in his voice.

“Did he…” Dylan stuttered with uncertainty from the hallway, “Is he… you know… a Little?”

“He’s certainly acting like one,” Lindsay rolled her eyes before fishing her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked.

“Calling Ryley,” Lindsay explained, “Miles is like a brother to me –albeit an annoying brother– but still. I’m not a Caregiver, but maybe Ryley can help him more than we can.”

“Lindsay?” Riley answered, “What’s up? Practice isn’t for a couple hours.”

“I know. Listen Ryley, Miles got his CLASS results back today and…”

“What’d he get?”

“We don’t know,” Lindsay sighed, “Well not officially anyway. He took the results and locked himself in his room, so I think it’s relatively safe to assume…”

“I’ll be right over. I have an Emergency Littles Kit I can bring too.”

“That’d be great. Thanks Ryley.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PRL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles paced back and forth in his room. He looked at Melvin, his watermelon-penguin stuffie with a vengeance. Melvin, who had been his closest friend for who knows how long, now felt like he had somehow betrayed him.

Miles looked at the haphazard piles of dirty clothes on the floor. His room was a mess. He was a mess.

His clothes! Miles started hyperventilating. The vast majority of his t-shirts had all manners of expletives and inappropriate slogans on them. No way he was getting to keep his old wardrobe.

Miles’s chest started thumping as he continued to hyperventilate. Clothes were the least of his worries. How could he be a rockstar if he was a Little? Hell, that might not even be his biggest concern. What if… what if his friends didn’t want to hangout with him anymore because he wasn’t punk rock enough for them? What if they sent him to an assignment center!?

“Miles?” He heard Ryley’s voice from the other side of the door, “Can you open up the door for me please?”

“N-no,” Miles managed to squeak out.

“Miles,” Ryley sighed like she was about to be forced to do something she didn’t want to do, “I’m going to count to three, alright? When I get to three, that door better be open. Then we're going to sort this all out together, okay?”

Miles didn’t have it in him to respond. Everything was too much. Tears finally fell from his eyes and began rolling down his cheeks.

“One,” Riley started counting.

Miles stood paralyzed with anxiety and fear. Sure, he was more than a little distraught about being a Little, but something about Ryley’s tone scared him in a newly compelling way.

“Two.”

Miles still couldn’t move. To his horror, his face wasn’t the only thing that was wet; he began to feel a wetness slowly spread over his crotch and began to soak his black jeans. Miles felt snot helplessly run down his nose as he ugly cried. MY LIFE IS OVER, he thought.

“Three~,” Ryley drew the last syllable out to give Miles a chance, and Miles wasn’t going to waste that chance.

For whatever reason, the prospect of Ryley’s count ending terrified him into action, and he dashed towards his door, momentarily forgetting about his messy appearance.

He unlocked the door and opened it to see Ryley’s face. She looked genuinely concerned for his well being, and he felt a pang of guilt for worrying her.

“Oh Miles,” Ryley wrapped her arms around him, “Shhh it’s okay. I’m here now. Shhh”

Ryley lovingly stroked his hair as Lindsay wordlessly watched, and Dylan left to give the pair their privacy.

Miles felt his shame and anxiety melt away in Ryley’s embrace. His full on face-flood was now reduced to a string of sniffles.

“Sweetie,” Ryley eyed Miles’s wet pants but neglected to say anything, “How about we run a bath for you and get you all cleaned up? Does that sound good?”

Miles nodded without saying a word. It was all he could manage without breaking down into tears again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PRL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you’re a Little,” Ryley used a cup to rinse shampoo out of Miles’s hair, “That’s a big adjustment, but I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll help you along the way as best I can, I promise.”

“T-thanks,” Miles nodded from within the bathtub. It was strange; he felt the cleanest he had felt in a long time with Ryley washing him, and parts of it were even enjoyable. But he still felt uncertain and scared. In this small moment, he was thankful for Ryley’s presence.

“All clean!” Ryley borderline sang.

“T-thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. You behaved so well for me, and I’m so proud! But there’s one more teensy thing I need your help with, okay?”

Miles didn’t know how to feel about the petnames and gentle praise he was receiving, but he eventually decided that –for at least tonight– he needed Ryley’s comforting presence and decided to let it slide.

“O-okay.”

“Great,” Ryley produced a small kit from the floor next to the bath and opened it to reveal four differently colored candies that were each shaped like lifesavers, “I need you to try each of these candies for me. One should taste the best, and I need to know which one that is. You can spit out the rest.”

Miles reached out into the kit and sampled the candies one by one. The first three ranged from horrible tasting to mediocre, but he didn’t quite enjoy any of them. Then he tried the purple. The purple tasted delicious. Before Miles knew it, he swallowed it.

“The purple one tasted the best,” Miles told Ryley.

“Ok, Thank you little one.”

Miles squinted in annoyance. Ryley really was pushing it with the pet names, but he didn’t want to push her away, so he didn’t say anything.

“R-ryley,” Miles stared at the porcelain floor of the bathtub, “Can I have another purple candy please?”

“Sorry cutie,” Ryley stroked a stray strand of hair behind Miles’s ear, “but I dont have another one. I also don’t think that’s a good idea anyway; those candies were to help us figure some stuff out about your new classification.”

“Oh… so what does liking purple mean?”

“Well for one, that means you're an L-2 Little. And it will help us know what to look for when we go to the Little Supply store tomorrow.”

“Oh…” Miles didn’t quite remember the specifics of what that meant, but he didn’t want to sound stupid in front of Ryley, so he kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t his fault he dropped out of college before they had a refresher on all the intricacies of the CLASS system.

“C’mon,” Ryley began to dry him off with a towel. Under other circumstances, Miles would’ve probably found this situation hot, but there were just too many new emotions to deal with.

“So I was thinking,” Ryley bent down to dry off his legs, “I could get you dressed and then you might want to come over to my place and have a sleepover?”

“A sleepover?”

“Yeah it’ll be fun!” Ryley beamed, “and that way I can keep an eye on you. Just in case.”

“Yeah okay.”

“Great!” Ryley dropped the towel and warped him in a tight hug. Miles hugged back with a tension that suggested that he never wanted to let her go.

“Okay, now I need to get you dressed, and I need you to be mature for me and not freak out, okay?”

Before Miles had the chance to respond, Ryley reached for the box that the candies came from and pulled out a fluffy white square. A diaper, Miles realized in horror.

“Ryley, no! You are NOT putting that on me!”

“Miles. Behave,” there was a certain sternness in Ryley’s voice that Miles wasn’t accustomed to.

“NO!” Miles shouted, “Ryley I can’t think of anything less punk rock than that!”

“Miles,” Ryley sighed, “Remember how you had an accident before bath time?”

“Wha– I didn’t–”

“Don’t.” Ryley’s eyebrows furrowed, “lie to me, Miles.”

“F-fine. But it was a one time thing, okay?”

“I’m sure it was, but it would make me feel better if you let me put this on you. After all, I can definitely think of one thing less punk rock than wearing a diaper: wetting your pants in front of everyone. Again.”

Miles clenched his fists and puffed out his cheeks in frustration. Ryley hated to admit it, but she thought he looked adorable.

“Fine.” Miles begrudgingly accepted, unable to find a flaw in her logic.

Ryley laid him down on top of the outfolded diaper, sprinkled his most sensitive areas with baby powder, and then taped the diaper over him. Miles felt like his fate was sealed with this diaper.

“Ahww you look cute with your thumb in your mouth like that,” Ryley cooed.

Miles quickly yanked his thumb out of his mouth, basically unconscious of it until Ryley commented.

“C’mon,” Ryley giggled, “Let’s go find you some clothes to wear.”

Ryley held Miles’s hand the entire way to his room. It took Ryley a good five minutes to find clothes that were “appropriate”, but she eventually settled on a basic Metallica t-shirt and blue jeans. Of course, Ryley helped Miles get dressed, but Miles was starting to feel too tired to really object to Ryley’s pampering. Turns out ugly crying like a toddler takes a lot out of you.

Ryley grabbed Miles’s hand and led him out into the living room where Lindsay and Dylan were talking.

“Hey Miles,” Dylan smiled at him, “how you feeling buddy?”

“Fine,” Miles grumbled.

“Great!” Lindsay interjected, “Now who’s ready to rock!? It’s almost time for practice.”

“Sorry guys,” Ryley sighed, “But Miles here has had a really big day, so I want to take him home and get him to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“I’m not even tired,” Miles yawned, “I can do this!”

“Miles you just yawned,” Dylan pointed out, “it’s okay if you need to get some rest.”

“Plus it’s already pretty late for you,” Ryley interjected.

“It’s only nine!” Miles whined.

“Miles, you need your sleep.”

“W-wait,” Miles’s head suddenly dropped, “H-how am I going to be a rockstar if I have a bedtime…”

“Ryley!” Miles grabbed desperately at the loose fabric of her blouse as he regarded her with glistening eyes, “I’M NOT GOING TO HAVE A BEDTIME, RIGHT!!?”

Ryley sighed, “I didn’t want to talk about this until tomorrow, but yes sweetie, you will need a bedtime, along with a whole lot of other changes to your lifestyle. But change isn’t always a bad thing Miles, I promise.”

Tears once again began rolling, but this time it was a slower roll.

“How is this not a bad thing?” Miles sniffled, “W-what am I gonna do?”

“Welp,” Lindsay tried to lighten the mood, “You could always make music for Kidz Bop.”

Miles looked up at her with clenched fists and glassy eyes, “Lindsay stop being such a… such a BITCH!!”

“MILES,” Ryley grabbed him by the ear and led him into the corner, “That language is unacceptable young man, do you hear me?”

“B-but Lindsay said–” Miles stammered.

“I know what Lindsay said,” Ryley briefly glared at Lindsay, “but that gives you no right to cuss at her. You will apologize to her, understand?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now what do you have to say to Lindsay?”

Miles walked over to Lindsay with his eyes glued to the floor the entire time.

“Sorry Lindsay for calling you a–” Miles looked back to see Ryley’s stern face and decided not to repeat his previous mistake, “a bad word.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lindsay says.

“And Lindsay,” Ryley’s ire had found a new target and her voice was prickly, “Don’t you ever –I mean EVER– make fun of Miles again. He’s had a long day, and he especially doesn’t need your antics right now.”

“O-okay,” It was Lindsay’s turn to memorize the carpet.

“Now do you have anything to say to Miles,” Ryley continued her reprimand.

“S-sorry Miles,” Lindsay muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Miles parroted.

“Good job guys!” Ryley’s icy tone had completely melted away into a cheery disposition that made Miles feel all warm inside. Miles silently swore he’d get emotional hypothermia from such a rapid change if that even existed…

“Now,” Ryley grabbed Miles’s hand, “We’re going to head home, and I’m going to get this little guy to bed.”

Miles passed out in the car before they even made it to Ryley’s.

[cherrydipp]

Melvin and Trip post rumble

Getting punched in the face fucking hurts. Is this how that greaser kid—what's his name? Johnny Cade—felt? Melvin learned that fact during the dreadful, nightmare stoking rumble.

The air in Tulsa felt heavy that night, the kind of air that sticks to your skin, clinging with the remnants of sweat and washed-out adrenaline from fighting. The sound of pained yells and grunts engrained deep in everyone’s mind the same way blood permanently leaves crimson red stains on clothes. Heavy rain smacked against the ground, the thud of fists against flesh and wailing echoed in his ears. The fight had been brutal.

Everyone involved knew it would be.

With losses on each side of town, tensions were at an all-time high. The Socs had their leader flat-out torn away from them, and the Greasers? They were hungry for victory; hungry for revenge in the name of their fallen.

Melvin could feel the sting of the night’s events all around his body and through achey joints. His head throbbed, the feeling of a migraine threatening to catch up with him, made itself painfully known. That Greaser girl threw a good slug at him, leaving his forehead all beat up and bruised. What soon will become a scar of shame, laid a jagged line stretched across his face from the corner of his eyebrow up. Sallow-toned marks were beginning to bloom a dim purple color along his arms and ribs, and he could feel every one of them as if they were blatant reminders of his failure.

But that was nothing compared to the anger building inside him now as he sat on the edge of the cool bathtub tile in the small, dimly lit bathroom of their grandmother’s house. Anger directed at his brother: Trip.

He followed the older boy’s every movement, watching intently as he soaked a cotton pad in peroxide. Whenever their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze to the floor. Trip wasn’t the kind of guy who showed his worry. No — he kept it all inside, a stoic expression on his face, but Melvin knew him well enough to read between the lines.

Understood the softened upset expression all too well.

Melvin was jolted awake in the middle of the night by the sound of someone walking down the old, creaky stairs of the Dipp household. In a daze of confusion, his sleep-addled mind compelled him to follow the sound. In the dim glow of a small plug-in nightlight, he saw a figure standing in the hallway. If he squinted closely enough, Melvin could make out the person's features: heavy-lidded brown eyes that stared longingly at a portrait of their mother holding her firstborn son. It was Trip.

The younger made the mistake of inching closer, and an obnoxious creak echoed from beneath his feet as he took a step forward. In an instant, he was discovered. When Trip turned to face him, the other has already darted back upstairs and into his bedroom.

Tonight, his brother had been worried the whole time, eyeing him during the rumble like a hawk. He never took his eyes off him for a second.

And Melvin had hated it. He hated being treated like he was fragile, like he was some little kid who couldn’t take care of himself. It’s not like it was his first fight. His first rumble—sure, but both involved the same range. The only difference was that a rumble had one rule in place: it was skin-to-skin only.

“You should’ve just stayed home like I fucking told you to,” Trip muttered, his voice low and sharp. Melvin didn’t even have to look up to know his brother was agitated. He could hear it in the way his words cut through the silent air like a switchblade.

The same weapon which was used against Bob.

“I’m fine,” Melvin replied, his voice laced with bitterness as he fought to mask the tremor that contradicted his words. He clenched his fists on the rim of the tub, determined not to appear vulnerable. He was not a baby, and he sure as hell did not enjoy being babied; he didn’t need help from anyone, least of all from Trip, who always seemed to find a way to peel away Melvin’s own hard-headed surface and uncover the truth lying beneath.

Trip’s rough hand gripped the back of his head, holding him in place, while the other carefully dabbed at the cut with a soaked pad. The sting shot through Melvin’s skin, causing him to reel back with a sharp hiss much like a cat.

“You’re not fine, Melvin,” Trip’s voice was gruff, but there was a tenderness to it that he refused to acknowledge. His mind was too shrewd to even register what the other said. “You think you’re all tough, huh?” He blatantly ignored him. “Look at you — see what happens when you run into things you ain’t belong in?”

Melvin’s jaw clenched.

He wanted to swat away the brown-haired boy's hand, to push Trip off of him and tell him to just quit it. The agonizing pain in his skull was becoming unbearable, and with every jolt of discomfort trailing down his back came along a shiver from the viscous liquid pressing against his open wound. He needed to push Trip away so he couldn’t see the moisture building up around his waterline.

He couldn’t bring himself to do it, yet.

Instead, he kept his head down, feeling the peroxide burn against his flesh as Trip cleaned the wound.

“You didn’t hafta fight, y’know.” I didn’t want you to fight — didn’t want you to get hurt; is what he wanted to say, but the words get caught in the back of his throat as he opens his mouth. Rather, he continues as if the phrase had already fleed his mind, voice a blend of frustration and worry. “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Glory, Gramma’s gonna tear me to shreds when she gets a good look at you.”

“Quit—“ Melvin winced through gritted teeth after a particularly rough swipe at the dried blood, the deep red creating a sickly contrast with his skin. He ducked his head further away from Trip’s hands before being pulled back in place. “If you held still for more than a minute it won’t hurt so bad.” He reprimanded the boy who in return simply rolled his eyes.

“I’s not like I need you t’baby me,” he muttered, his voice meek, but firm speaking with whatever confidence he could muster up. “I can handle myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t handle yourself too well when you’re bleedin’ all over the damn place,” Trip retorted, his tone of voice rising with the frustration boiling up inside him. Christ Almighty, why wouldn’t Melvin just let him do this one thing for him? Why is the little shit so stubborn?

He supposes he inherited that trait from Gramma.

Calloused fingers pressed harder into his brother’s skull to keep the flinching boy in place, and for a moment, Melvin almost wished he had just stayed home too.

But he wouldn’t admit that aloud. He wouldn’t admit that he regretted a single moment of that night.

“Jesus, Trip — I’m fine!” Melvin repeated, clutching at his brother’s arms as they tussled for a moment, doing his best to just get him the fuck off. He was no match for the older’s brute strength earned from playing football all throughout highschool, yet he made an effort nonetheless, grunting in frustration while shoving him away. It didn’t matter how hard he tried anyways, because Trip had him sitting still in no time. He was completely fed up with himself his brother.

Melvin could feel salty tears the same ones he wished away earlier welling at the corners of his eyes, a direct result of the cleanser burning his skin. Well — at least that’s what he attributed it to, as his vision became a hazy blur through heavy tears. Maybe that was part of it, but he knew what the he main reason was. Embarrassment; shame.

The Socs lost. Lost against their long-time rivals after preparing to win. Lost against the people who slash their tires and steal hubcaps with a shit-eating grin plastered on their faces.

Lost against the ones who murdered Bob.

Who left the boys without their commander in battle, the “golden boy” quarterback of the football team, the set of green eyes that always held a subtle glint of mischief — but above all else, their brother.

It was all his fault—Melvin thought was certain of that now. If he had just stayed in bed where he belonged, he wouldn’t have found himself perched awkwardly on the rim of the bathtub with his older brother fussing over him as if he were a child in need of a bandage for a scraped knee. Trip, was more focused on looking after Melvin than focusing on the Greaser he was slugging. Each time the brunette glanced over his shoulder, he checked to make sure his brother wasn’t lying face down in the gravel — the same way Bob was found in that fountain.

There was that feeling — guilt twisting and tying his stomach into one giant knot.

It was supposed to be the Soc’s grand win for control over Pershing Park, and yet here the brothers were, the aftermath of the rumble hanging heavily above their heads. If he had just kept his distance, maybe Trip wouldn’t have found himself with that busted lip, the angry swelling a reminder of what could have been avoided.

He kept his head down.

Trip’s calm demeanor seemed to break down at the edges — clear irritation seeping through the cracks, and for a moment, Melvin was sure his older brother was going to shout at him. But instead, Trip’s look softened, his tight grip in his hair loosening. He didn’t say anything for a long time.

The older tossed the bloodied cotton into a nearby garbage, silently peeling open a bandaid. His presence was overwhelming, yet it was the cold shoulder that got to Melvin. Trip wasn’t the type to hold his tongue, and this complete quiet? Being a person who constantly fills the silences — it was the worst kind of punishment.

“I ain’t—…” He began. “I ain’t mad at you, Melv,” Trip spoke up finally, his voice melting with every word. “Jus’ pissed off at myself is all.”

And that was all Melvin needed to hear to understand why he was being so serious about the situation. He couldn’t protect him; his kid brother. The blond’s stomach dropped, but he didn’t dare tilt his head upward. He didn’t need to hear it, not from Trip. He didn’t need to hear that he was worried about him, didn’t need to hear that he cared.

The silence stretched between them again as Melvin scrubbed harshly at his eyes, leaving tear-stained streaks along his forearm — the only audible sounds being the ruffle of his Madras shirt and a low shaky huff of breath escaping from his lips.

“You’re too young to be gettin’ mixed up in all this,” Trip added, knowing he was Melvin’s age when he started jumping greasers and smoking cancersticks. He wanted to do everything he could to protect Melvin from the unforgiving streets of Tulsa — protect him from being hardened. His tone was thick with something the other couldn’t quite place. “But you’re still my brother; my kid brother. ‘Nd I don’t know what I’d do if I see you end up in the newspaper, or— face down lyin’ in some ditch. Don’t wanna see you end up like Bob.”

Melvin swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing more prominent. He bit down on his tongue, knowing the state he would find Trip in if he looked up.

Hunched over with the same dreadful expression as that late night in the hallway.

Trip’s hand landed gently atop the shorter’s head, his touch tender despite the subtle frustration still simmering beneath his outward visage. “I’m gonna protect you, no matter what. There ain’t nothin’ you can do about it. It’s what I’ve gotta do, y’hear?”

Melvin nodded finally letting himself exhale the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his shoulders slumping simultaneously. He knew how he probably looked — pathetic with furrowed brows and a quivering lip. He hated how much his brother’s words had gotten to him. Hated how they slugged him in the gut and forced tears out of his eyes, but he could not bring himself to force Trip any farther away. He understands he needs him.

The throbbing headache, the sting from the peroxide—none of it mattered anymore. They didn’t need to speak for Melvin to comprehend that Trip will forever be there for him, even though the younger would never in a million years ask for it.

They were all each other really had.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable for Melvin, but it was familiar. They are the only ones who have stayed in each other’s lives longer than anyone ever has. No matter what happens, they will always still be brothers.

“C’mon,” Trip patted Melvin on the back. “Head up to bed ‘fore Gramma wakes up ‘nd has a stroke just lookin’ at you.”

And in the end, that was enough.

[sketch-twentytwo]

This is Melvin Sneedly, Harold Hutchins, and George Beard. Melvin is the kid on the left with goggles and freckles. Harold is the one in the middle with the T-shirt and bad hair cut. George is the one on the, right with the tie and flat top. Remember that now.

That’s the boys!

Aside from Melvin’s loss of bowtie, I don’t see them changing their attire too much in this AU. Also I changed my mind, George and Melvin would be rivals but both boys would still be independent pains in Krupp’s side.

George’s resistance to authority is because the school system hinders creativity and student imagination. Melvin’s defiance to authority is because he thinks he knows better than the administration and believes they hinder him, specifically. Harold agrees with both sides to an extent, resulting in him being totally on board with both parties' elaborate plans, at least unless they quarrel.

I see Harold being the unifying front for each faction: Melvin would be his best friend from kindergarten and George would be an ally he spends time with whenever he gets detention (either that or George bumps into Harold and recruits him in secret to join his student cause against Krupp).

————

I think the Authority-Event Horizon for Melvin occurs after he makes friends with Harold. He’d bear witness to the harassment Harold suffers at the hands of the school as well as the administration’s lack of handling it. It’d break his belief that the faculty (and adults for that matter) know best, and feed into his desire to make things better with his intellect.

RR!Melvin mostly follows the rules, mostly because it's convenient, and he rarely results to tattling, as he doesn't see it as useful anymore. Admin doesn't help the students, therefore they cannot exhibit proper justice.

————

When Melvin and George butt heads it's because they view each other as wasted potential. George thinks Melvin could use his inventions to help students in a more useful manner, such as overthrowing the principle or whatever. Melvin thinks George's antics are stupid and a waste of time. Harold really wants his two friends to get along, but he's a bit to timid to pull anything like that off.

Don't you worry, though, I have plans for these three in this AU....

Coming soon!

[anthurak]

Okay here’s a fun bit of off-the-cuff, unhinged rambling:

So I’ve been playing some Yugioh Duel Links lately, specifically the current Arc-V event focused on Rin and Lulu. And I noticed that Rin has some rather interesting dialogue when summoning both Clear Wing and Crystal Wing Synchro Dragons (for context, the ace-monsters of one of Arc-V’s Shonen-Protags; Yugo. For whom Rin is the plot-designated love-interest).

Stuff like; "I know you'd rather fight by my side than with Yugo!” for Clear Wing Dragon and “A monster this awesome is wasted on Yugo!” for Crystal Wing Dragon.

And not only is it rather interesting and frankly fun for a designated-shonen love-interest to be making comments like that, but she’s also not exactly wrong either…

For one, mechanically-speaking the Clear Wing dragons slot EXTREMELY well into Rin’s Windwitch archetype, which is very effective at getting out Level 7/8+ WIND Synchro monsters. To the point of even being a bit better at it, or at least a bit more reliable/consistent, than Yugo’s own Speedroid archetype.

And aesthetics-wise, the Windwitch’s whole motif is that of Icy Wind. And well…

Clear Wing Dragon, Crystal Wing Dragon, Crystal Clear Wing Dragon…

Sounds like something what would go quite well with an ICE motif, no? Certainly just as well as the ‘speed’ motif of Yugo’s Speedroids. Heck, those crystals on Crystal Wing Dragon look quite a bit like ice crystals, don’t they?

So! With all that in mind, combined with both the fact that Rin frankly deserves another badass ace monster after all the disrespectful shit her series put her through AND how the idea of a designated shonen love-interest making off with the protag’s best cards and possibly even making better use of them is frankly EXTREMELY FUN…

Yeah as far as I’m concerned, Clear Wing Synchro Dragon is Rin’s monster now whenever I play Duel Links and will have a permanent place in all of her decks.

And heck, while we’re at it let’s take this idea of Rin using Clear Wing Dragon a bit further and envision the story potential of this.

Consider if you will: An alternate version of Arc-V where Yugo is the one who gets damsel’ed and/or fridged, and RIN comes into possession of Clear Wing Synchro Dragon. To the point of even eventually becoming/revealed to be that dragon’s TRUE partner.

Sounds ludicrous, right? After all, Rin is one of the fragments/incarnations of Ray Akaba, who is basically the nemesis of the four Dimension Dragons.

But consider also: This would have made for a way more INTERESTING STORY for Arc-V!

Imagine a version of Arc-V where multiple character, mostly villains/antagonists, spend the show hyping up how the four Yu-boys are ‘destined’ to become one and recreate the terrible Zarc, and that the four bracelet girls are likewise ‘destined’ to become one and recreate Ray in order to stop him.

Only for multiple characters and events across the show to subvert and DEFY this so-called ‘destiny’.

Like say, some of both the ‘Zarc’ and ‘Ray’ fragments rejecting merging together on such a fundamental level that they CANNOT merge like what we saw in the anime?

Or one of the Yu-boys learning a summoning method that perhaps Zarc himself originally rejected? As in, RITUAL summoning.

Or one of Ray’s incarnations defying all conventional expectations and actually bonding with one of Zarc’s Dimensional Dragons, to the point of said dragon rejecting Zarc himself.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds WAY more interesting.

Also, because Clear Wing Dragon seems to be a girl dragon, I am definitely shipping her with Rin for the sake of underappreciated Yugioh yuri*. Heck, it’s a fragment of Ray in love with one of Zarc’s dragons so it’s basically an ‘enemies-to-lovers via reincarnation’ thing XD

--

*NO, not the smug Melvin-wannabe who SHOULD have gotten his ass kicked by Alexis Rhodes.

[hawkinsunderground]

every time i start to feel like i'm deluding myself about byler happening, i give myself a reality check using the classic 'if they were all straight' scenario, and then i stop doubting. if everything remained the same--same relationships, same dynamics with friends--with the only difference in the show being that Will was a girl, it's almost painfully obvious. And because all a m/f couple has to do is be in the vicinity of each other to get shipped, byler probably would have been more popular even in the earlier seasons.

Mike spending an entire season right by his girl best friend's side, desperate to help and fighting to stay near her as she slowly gets possessed. Then at the end of it all he gives her a whole speech crying and saying that choosing to be friends with her was the best thing he's ever done? I guarantee you even with milkvan developing a bunch of people would have jumped on the byler train, and more others would be thinking that Mike and Willow or whatever would eventually get together later on, with warring opinions on who the better ship is.

Mike neglecting his girl best friend who is now hinted to have a crush on him in s3 while trying to get over being kidnapped and everything she went through? Spending all his time with Eleven even though byler had just been so close the season prior. There's no way at least some ppl wouldn't be thinking romance. The whole 'Mike's probably repressing his feelings and pushing Will away because he's scared' idea that a lot of bylers believe suddenly wouldn't be a reach anymore if it was a straight pairing.

Sectioning the two of them off to have their little cali romance all the while hinting at serious relationship troubles and conflicting character arcs for Mike and Eleven. Meanwhile the shrouded love confession from 'Willow', the obvious flirting. You can't look me in the eyes and tell me that people wouldn't be losing their shit during the entire apology scene if Will was a girl. The flirty smiles, the "I didn't say it." "You didn't have to.", the intimacy of his apology to 'Willow' in comparison to the apology from Mike to Lucas in s1. Along with all of the other scenes where Mike is clearly different with 'Willow' compared to the rest of his friends, he's always near her, etc.

Atp I feel like the general consensus would be that they're setting up a Melvin breakup and Byler endgame. Mike putting his hand on Willow's shoulder and promising they'll get through this together while literally showing Midleven crashing and burning in the same scene? In one of the final scenes? You're gonna tell me that people wouldn't be thinking along the lines of romance, with the love triangle pointing in byler's favor?

Mike's 'love' confession would come across as the lie that it was and a lot of people would probably be saying that Mike is not confronting his true feelings. They would be drawing the same comaprisons we are--that it didn't even work and the gates opened, that his (girl) best friend had to tell him and guide him to confess to Eleven, with them finally as close as they were around s2 again and Melvin not even really getting back together, with clear issues still present in the finale. The direction they are going to take things in s5 would become obvious without the straight goggles blinding people to some of the most obvious character and relationship arcs that have been done a million times.

The only difference would be the lack of struggle due to homophobia and would probably be more centered on Mike's inability to confront his feelings due to a fear of messing things up between himself and Will, along with losing el because he doesn't love her the way she wants him to, keeping to the core of his character in either scenario

You're gonna tell me that if people saw this and it was mike's girl best friend sitting next to him, they wouldn't be jumping at a romance arc between the two of them?

or his reaction to them being friends again, a smile and voice we've never seen used with any other character, noticably different?

the physical proximity, the fact that they seem equally flirtatious and affected by the other despite Will being the only one with confirmed feelings atp it's too obvious--if it were a girl sitting next to mike people would definitely be drawing some conclusions Anyway, byler endgame

[ofsnarkandmagic]

Cont. From here @essentiamortis

He'd not only known about the sprig of mistletoe hanging in The English Garden, but he'd been the one to hang it. Being taller came in handy sometimes, though his twin wasn't one to milk that notion. For what it's worth, it is a rather good tradition, one of which Melvin himself has taken part in many times. Yet he didn't take Elizabeth as one that would partake in such a thing, to say the least.

Which explains why his eyes go a tad wide when she quite literally grabs him by his shirt collar and presses her lips to his; well, brushes against his at first. It takes him a moment to register what is even happening, pushing whatever thoughts that crop up to the side. It's just a kiss with a slightly close friend, is all. A kiss that she's deepened rather quickly, yet with a shrug he relaxes, closes his eyes and kisses her back.

Taking a chance, he brings his hands up to either side of her face.

[faafi]

do you have a favorite loonatics unleashed episode?

Yes, I do!

Of course, it's a common answer, but my personal favorite episode is The Family Business. This episode is my favorite since it explores such an interesting part of the canon (the relations within Rev's family & the relations between roadrunners and coyotes). And, of course, I love Rev! And Tech, too! But Rev needs all of the love!!!

Besides The Family Business, my two other personal favorites are The Menace of Mastermind and It Came from Outer Space. These two episodes are the strongest in terms of their pacing, and there is a lot of great interactions between most of the characters (I say most because Slam doesn't interact much; but then again, Slam barely talks with the other Loonatics in most episodes, so whatever).

It Came from Outer Space

Personally, It Came from Outer Space is one of the funniest episodes of the show. Or at the very least, it is one of the stronger episodes in terms of comedy. Each character is fun to watch. Additionally, I love the inclusion of the classic Looney Tunes reference and how this gag is tied into the plot (picture above). This joke is very tastefully done (at least in comparison to the references that were made in Loonatics on Ice).

As a side rant, I love Rev here. This scene (shown above) is brief, but there is a lot to dissect ("Say, remember what Lexi said about feeling like Helen of Troy? Maybe we could make her really feel that way!").

For earlier context, when Melvin threatens to the Loonatics that he will blow up Acmetropolis if he can't abduct Lexi, Lexi comments that she feels like Helen of Troy. After saying this, everyone is confused, including Tech and Rev. Rev even looks behind himself and softly shakes his head side to side (shown below).

In the next few scenes, Rev is nowhere to be seen.

Later on, Rev doesn't show up until everyone is seated at the circular mission table except for Lexi.

It is revealed that Lexi went onto Melvin's ship for the sake of saving the city. Then, Tech & Ace talk about getting her back. Tech establishes that Melvin's spacecraft is impenetrable. Here, Rev proposes that they infiltrate Melvin's ship via a Trojan Horse. Sure, this scene is brief, but it really speaks a lot on Rev's character.

I am going to incorporate this idea into a later fic, but I love the premise that Rev is a huge book junkie who will read up on any subject. In my head, I think that Rev read a lot about Helen of Troy and learned about the Trojan Horse. This would explain why Rev wasn't present in that section of the episode.

This would also explain why Rev was confused when he heard Helen of Troy earlier and then proposed the Trojan Horse idea later.

As an aside, this moment is one of the few times when Tech is genuinely confused about something, and it is SO funny (picture below).

The Menace of Mastermind

This episode is a really entertaining episode overall.

The Menace of Mastermind: I loved the premise of this episode (where Mastermind infiltrates the Loonatics HQ). In terms of characterization, Mastermind is one of the best Loonatics villains.

There are a lot of one-liners here, too ("What?! Now is exactly the time to panic!", "My brilliant inventions. What has that ghastly woman done to my babies?!", etc.).

Like I said, this episode is fun to watch.

I especially like this scene when the Loonatics realize that their spare weapons were modified by Mastermind. Here (in the image below), Tech's spare weapons were altered so that they would wrap around each person's hands. And so each character has to break the ropes around their hands.

Of course, each character has their own way of getting out of their restraints (brute force, laser vision, teleportation, etc.).

In this part, Rev aims the weapon in front of himself.

HE FIRES AND USES HIS SPEED TO GO IN FRONT OF THE PROJECTILE

AND THE PROJECTILE STRIKES HIS OWN WEAPON

AND HE IS NO LONGER STUCK TO THE WEAPON

LIKE WHAT

MY CHILD IS SO SMART <3

Also, this episode has one of the most underrated TechRev moments of all time. There is an earlier scene in the episode where the Loonatics are hiding inside of the vents from Mastermind. Rev, Lexi, and Slam go to shut off the EMP.

When Lexi asks about where the EMP is located, Tech says, "It's hidden right in plain sight, and comes with simple instructions."

Later on, Rev, Lexi, and Slam find the EMP. Lexi says, "Aww, Tech said they'd come with simple instructions. Simple my lucky foot."

Then, Rev says, "I got this. Step 1: Arm primary ignition sequence using standard alphanumeric code calculations. Step 2: Insert electron overdrive..."

I LOVE this scene. It is perfect. This scene shows not only shows Rev's intelligence, but it also shows how familiar Rev is with Tech's thinking. It shows how Tech and Rev are comfortable with each other, even when they are not physically together. It's great.

I also love this shot (shown below) when Rev casually looks away from the screen while he is still talking at the same quick speed. Meanwhile, Lexi is beyond confused. It's a comical riot.

Also, this is really subtle, but I adore this detail: the next scene with Rev & Lexi shows that Rev is the person who is holding the EMP device (shown below). It's funny to think that Lexi just handed Rev the device so that he could deal with it.

Overall, my favorite episode of this show is The Family Business, but I also really enjoyed The Menace of Mastermind & It Came from Outer Space, too.

edit: updated the pictures for The Menace of Mastermind with ones that were higher quality

[dib-thing-wannabe]

The Fine Line Has Been Burned

"Okay, I got the drone set up!" Melvin quickly ran outside and went to George's side.

"Mhmm.. Good, good... now, I'm heading home. See you later.. or tomorrow, depending on when I wake up."

Melvin nodded his head in understanding before gently grabbing George's face and giving him a soft kiss on the lips, needing to stand on his tip toes as to reach George. George let out a soft hum as he softly kissed him back. If it weren't for the fact that he was extremely tired, George would have made this one kiss into ten.

"Remember to be safe, okay?"

"Mhm, I will..."

With that being said, George stepped off of Melvin's front porch and began making his way back home, the humming of the drone following behind him.

*Yawn* *Yawn* *Yaaawn*

Goddamn it.. it's only 1 pm! Why am I this tired?? Did I really sleep that badly last night?..

George's felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier, which in turn, despite it being very difficult for him at the moment, made him start speeding up.

Quickly, George made it back into his house without somehow tripping or passing out on the way. Upon seeing that George had successfully gone home, the drone turned around and started heading back towards Melvin's house, being done with it's duties.

George struggled to pull himself up the stairs, even with his super strength, battling with himself to keep his eyes opened for just a little while longer.

Fucking hell... it's never been this bad before.... why.. why is this...

George sluggishly dragged himself into his room, just barely keeping his eyes open. He did attempt to change into some clothes that were better for sleeping in, but ended up passing out on his bed only wearing white sweat pants.

Slowly, George opened his eyes as he looked up into a mostly clear sky, with the occasional clouds scattered across it. After a few moments of just admiring the blue sky, George lazily sat himself up and looked around to find himself in a field of flowers. The flowers consist of hyacinths, lavender, and begonias.

As George began becoming less dazed and more focused on his surroundings, he noticed the sound of water nearby. The sound was... Calming. Very, very calming. The sound was almost... Hypnotizing.

George stood up from where he once laid and began walking towards the sound of the water, his bare feet rubbing against the green grass beneath him. He followed the sound until finally reaching the source of it, a small lake. One small enough to see the other side of it, at the least. He walked closer to the edge of a dock as he looked down at the water before noticing movement.

It was a person. A person around his size, swimming peacefully in the water. Not wanting to potentially make the other person uncomfortable by staring, George sat down on the dock, dipping in only his feet into the water as he stared at the scenery around him. After a few minutes, the person popped their head out from under the water, staring up at George. George stared back, quickly getting engrossed by their bright orange eyes. If he was paying more attention to anything else about this person, he'd noticed that besides his eyes, the kid looked exactly like him..

The look alike pulled himself out of the water and onto the dock, now sitting beside George.

For what felt like 10 minutes to George, they stayed in silence, yet showed no signs of irritation, no signs of annoyance, or even confusion. The lack of tension in the air made George feel as if they have known each other since the dawn of time, needing no words to be exchanged between them.

George stared down at the water below him. Despite everything else looking to be natural and normal, the water had this black tint to it that it shouldn't have. Though still, it just.. felt so comforting. George reached down and gently grazed the waters surface with his fingertips. The waters just the right temperature for George, being nice and warm without it being boiling hot.

George looked back at the one with the orange eyes, as if asking if it was okay for him to leave the other alone again and go take a swim. They looked at George and gave him a simple nod of the head. Without a second thought afterwards, George hopped into the lake feet first, quickly getting fully submerged in the water..

The feeling... the feeling of it surrounding him... it was... safe. It was protective. It was.. calming. Not only that, but George quickly realized that he was actually able to breathe under this water, and it even has a slight taste of a strange yet pleasant mixture of orange and banana. George continued to swim below the water, feeling the most calm as he has ever been in quite some time.

Meanwhile, the bright orange eyes got up from the dock and began walking towards the field that George came from, as if he's curious about it as well..

The alarm clock on George's bedside started blaring at the clock hit 7:30 am. Quickly, the boy's fist meets the alarm, instantly breaking it and stopping the blaring. The boy lazily sat up on the bed, rubbing his eye with one hand as the other hand stabilized him. He began to open his eyes, his once amber color now instead having a bright, glowing orange in it's place.

He began looking around his surroundings, when he quickly became confused. He looked down at himself, before looking back around the room.

"... Where the fuck am I?.."

[myhauntedsalem]

The Boogeyman of Baltimore 1951

The summer of 1951 was a weird time in the city of Baltimore. The city sweltered under a heat wave and only the wealthiest residents of the region could afford air conditioners at the time. And there were no air conditioners to be found in O’Donnell Heights, a housing project on the southwest side of the city. This was a place where steel mill and shipyard workers lived with their families. For those folks, though, the steamy heat was less of a worry than the specter that was stalking their streets.

At some point in July, a tall, thin figure, dressed all in black, began sprinting across the rooftops of O’Donnell Heights. It leaped on and off buildings, broke into houses, attacked people, enticed a young girl to crawl under a car and played music in the nearby graveyard. Groups of young men patrolled the streets, while others waited by their windows at night, keeping a sleepy watch for the “Phantom Prowler” that eluded his pursuers and vanished into the cemetery before he could be caught. By the end of the month, police were arresting people for disorderly conduct and carrying weapons, but the phantom had disappeared and was never seen again. What in the hell happened in O’Donnell Heights in the summer of 1951? To this day, no one knows.

O’Donnell Heights was only eight years old when the mysterious stranger began making his appearances. Built as a housing project for defense industry workers at Bethlehem Steel, Martin Aircraft and Edgewood Arsenal during World War II, it was never meant to be either durable or attractive. Tightly-spaced, two–story row houses went up on sixty-six acres of what used to be farmland, a brickyard that belonged to the Baltimore Brick Co. and part of St. Stanislaus Kostka Cemetery, one of several graveyards in the immediate area. The others included Evangelical Trinity Lutheran Congregational, Mount Carmel, St. Matthew’s and Oheb Shalom Congregation Cemetery, but the phantom would show an affinity for St. Stanislaus and often appeared nearby.

By the time that the local newspapers realized that something very strange was happening in the Heights, the panic was almost over. Most of the stories that remain today come from the back pages of the Baltimore Sun and Evening Sun, which printed a handful of articles between July 25 and July 27, when the sightings came to an end. Reporters approached it as a “tongue in cheek” story with cartoon illustrations. No one seemed to know when the events had started, but on July 24, Agnes Martin told a reporter that the phantom had been seen for “at least two or three weeks.”

The first definite date discovered by researcher Robert Damon Schneck was on July 19, although the figure had undoubtedly been seen a number of times prior to that. On this date, though, there was a full moon and nighttime temperatures were in the 70’s. It was around 1:00 a.m. when William Buskirk, 20, ran into the phantom. He reported, “I was walking along the 1100 block of Travers Way with several buddies when I saw him on a roof. He jumped off the roof and we chased him into the graveyard…” One of the other boys interviewed with Buskirk stated that, “he sure is an athlete. You should have seen him go over that fence – just like a cat.” The fence that surrounded the cemetery was six feet in height and trimmed with barbed wire around the top. According to the witnesses, the figure in black had leapt over it with ease.

Hazel Jenkins claimed that the phantom grabbed her some time the same week. She saw it twice at close-range and may have been attacked when the figure tried to break into the Jenkins home (the article isn’t clear) but her brother, Randolph, saw it soon after. He told a reporter, “I saw him two nights after he tried to break into our house… He was just beginning to climb up on the roof of the Community Building. We chased him all the way to Graveyard Hell.”

The phantom next visited the family of Melvin Hensler, breaking into their house on July 20, but stealing nothing. After this unnerving experience, the family went to stay with Mr. Hensler’s brother, but Mrs. Hensler returned to the house the next day and found “a potato bag left on the ironing board,” which she was convinced belonged to the intruder. Mr. Hensler was so exhausted from staying awake that his eyes ached and he had started talking in his sleep.

Storms on July 23 lowered the temperatures, but had no effect on the phantom. In fact, on July 24, he was especially active. Newspapers reported, “At 11:30 p.m. officers Robert Clark and Edward Powell were called to the O’Donnell Heights area where they were greeted by some 200 people who said that had seen the oft-reported ‘phantom.’ Clark said that they pointed to the rooftops and someone yelled: ‘The phantom’s there!’” The police drove around and arrested a twenty-year-old sailor carrying a hammer. He was fined $5.

A reporter from the Sun found thirty of forty people waiting around the back stoop of a house on Gusryan Street, waiting for the sun to come up. One of them, Charles Pittinger, had armed himself with a shotgun. He interviewed several of them, who passed along rumors and told of their own experiences. Some of them claimed the phantom lived in the graveyard and a woman who lived on Wellsbach Way, adjacent to St. Stanislaus, suggested that the phantom was doing more than jumping fences and breaking into houses: “One night I heard someone playing the organ in that chapel up there. It was about 1 o’clock.”

The phantom was also reportedly seen beckoning to Esther Martin from underneath an automobile, saying, “Come here, little girl.”

The consensus of the crowd was that the phantom easily leaped from two-story buildings, flew over fences and was a general nuisance in the neighborhood. A man named George Cook admitted having mixed feelings about what was happening. He did not deny the reports of the phantom, just the possibility that something extraordinary was involved. In the end, he blamed the media. “It’s ridiculous to believe that a man can jump from a height and not leave a mark on the ground. Yet this character does it all the time. It’s my idea that when this thing is cleared up… it’ll turn out to be one of these young hoodlums who has got the idea from the movies or the so-called funny papers, and is trying to act it out. This sort of thing appeals to detective story readers who are mainly looking for excitement.”

Meanwhile, the police were busy ignoring the phantom and rounding up the “usual suspects.” On the morning of July 25, they arrested four boys on disorderly conduct charges at an unidentified cemetery. Around 10:00 p.m. that same night, officers arrested three boys on an embankment near the cemetery. Their six companions, all on the lookout for the phantom, fled the scene. An hour later, the police responded to a call from a resident who heard footsteps on his roof, but nothing was found. At some point the next day, Mrs. Mildred Gaines heard the sound of someone trying to break into her house and ran outside barefoot screaming, “It’s the phantom!” It was actually the police breaking down the door to serve a search warrant on the premises. Mrs. Gaines and four male companions were arrested on bookmaking charges.

By this time, the newspaper coverage – which had started off with reporters as baffled as the residents of O’Donnell Heights – turned humorous. The stories poked fun at the sightings, reported pranks by neighbors pretending to be the phantom, and carried a story about a phantom sighting on a rooftop that turned out to be a ventilation pipe. On July 27, the Evening Sun announced there were no more reports and that, “Police think it might be a teenager.” The phantom was gone, but the heat was back, with high humidity and temperatures in the middle 90’s. Like most bizarre “flaps” of this type, there was no satisfying resolution to the panic created by the Phantom of O’Donnell Heights. An unofficial version claimed that residents finally chased it into the cemetery, where the phantom jumped into a crypt and vanished for good.

No one can say who, or what, this figure may have been, although based on the sheer number of sightings, something weird was happening in the neighborhood. Descriptions of the phantom were fairly consistent, considering that that the encounters were brief, took place in the dark, and he was usually moving at a good clip. William Buskirk said, “He was a tall thin man dressed all in black. It looked like he had a cape around him.” The only one who mentioned the phantom’s face was witness Myrtle Ellen, who said it was horrible. She also agreed about the dark costume. The newspapers described the phantom as “black robed,” suggesting long, loose-flowing clothes. Mrs. Melvin Hensler, discoverer of the discarded potato sack, saw the phantom three times and said that during one sighting, it looked as though he had a hump on his back.

Theories abound about the “Horror of the Heights.” Sociologists have described the events in O’Donnell Heights as an example of an “imaginary community threat,” suggesting that the 900 families living there experienced some type of mass hysteria, whipped up by rumors and the media. It’s true that misconceptions undoubtedly played a part in the events, but they don’t explain the relatively straightforward experiences described by William Buskirk and other witnesses. The police never denied that people were seeing something but, like George Cook, thought it would turn out to be a “young hoodlum.” But if it was, he was never caught, exposed or confessed.

It’s also hard to accept that the newspapers played a part in creating any hysteria. The two local papers ran only six articles on the phantom, two of them mere fillers, and they were printed as the sensation was coming to an end. The only one that might be called “sensationalistic” ran on July 25 and included the experiences of a number of witnesses. However, it ended on a sober note: “The question of the prowler of O’Donnell Heights continued to be not one of the phantoms, but of people reacting to (and possibly creating) the unknown with their imaginations.”

Some have taken the phantom’s affinity for St. Stanislaus as evidence that it was an actual ghost. Part of O’Donnell Heights was built on land that once belonged to the cemetery, which contains a great many unmarked graves from the influenza epidemic of 1918. Also, bodies were exhumed and reinterred when Boston Street was extended in the 1930s, but it’s hard to see how this would stir up a spirit in July 1951.

There has also been the suggestion that the phantom was some sort of mysterious entity like the “Mothman” of West Virginia or the “Mad Gasser of Mattoon,” which plagued a small town in Illinois in 1944.

Whatever it was, it remains a mystery and one that – like far too many others – will simply never be solved.

[weepingclergy]

"OH! Wait a second, kiddo... I know you??" The question mark was poignant, and ever the tell-tale sign that the spiders in his head were working over time. His face, his prominent pout, his Grima-forsaken ironic slouch. (Maribelle was the last person in the world to have a bad posture, so Henry had always found it HILARIOUS.) "I do! Yeah! It's..." He snapped his fingers twice, like striking a match. "Brady! Or do you go by some other name now?" Cynthia hadn't given him a rundown about Maribelle's kid at all, so for all he knew, Brady went by Brandon Salamander or something now, right?

"Man oh man— glad you're not dead in the water, nya ha ha! Didn't know I'd end up bumping into a whole lot of you kids here, but I guess flocks of a feather end up together, ahaha~" He tilted his entire body to one side, trying to peek for the kid's signature instrument of choice. Then the other, just for funsies. Did he still play? Was it just Henry, or was this kid even older now??

"You still play, don'tcha? The crows and flowers always liked when you did."

finally his sickness subsides and brady can drag his arse out of the infirmary tent. it's embarrassing enough that he had to forego the traditional interview because of his weak stomach, but he totally ralphed at least 4 times on the way from the interview hall to the medtent. he wants to whack his skull against a wall. if ANYONE calls him 'barfy' or something similar, he's going to beat the shit out of them.

as he swaggers from one place to the next, flashing sneers wherever he walks, brady keeps eyes out for any suspicious figures. however, he's so caught up in his search that when someone addresses him from behind, he almost throws up again from surprise.

" AHH! WHAT T-- " cough. slouch. leer. " oh. it's you. yeah, it's me. an' i didn't change my name none, either---the hell gave you that idea?"

henry always was a bit of a nutcase in brady's eyes. never not talking death or crows or murder or what have you; risen were scary, but the way this guy pulled them apart like string cheese was scarier. oh, gods, the imagery's making him feel sick again. he shakes his head and tries to keep his stink eye strong.

though, something that white-haired melvin says alerts him. " you kids? " he grunts, turning his head lightly to the side. " wait, you mean i ain't the only one of us here? where're the others? you know somethin' i don't, grampa? "

he tries to get close, maybe intimidate some info out of henry, but his next question pops brady's bravado like a tent in a windstorm. he sags, flicks his eyes to the side bashfully. he didn't think the guy would be genuine like that.

" 'course i still play. why the hell wouldn't i? my violin case s' still on the boat. "

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

Remy stared in her brother's direction, trying to make him do something fun by sheer force of will. All Adam did all day was mope and read, and sharing a room with him was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Adam moved, and Remy had a brief moment of hope where she though he might do something interesting. She was immediately let down however, when he simply grabbed a school book and started to read. Remy had thought sharing a room with him briefly as a kid had been rough, but she was wrong. Her younger twin brother had the exciting life of a shriveled up old warlock whose main excitement in life was the daily crossword puzzle. Clearly Theo had been a large part of Adam's adventurous side and if he didn't come back to make her brother fun again, she had the feeling that Adam would forever be as dull as he was now.

"A book? Why are you doing schoolwork? It's after hours and you could be doing anything! Literally, anything. Why don't you watch a movie or whatever you think is fun? Teenagers have fun, boring ass adults do schoolwork after class. You're only young once, Adam and you're blowing it."

"I don't know, it's hard to say what's fun these days. Theo liked watching movies with me. The really scary ones so he'd have to hold me when we watched them. Everything I could do, I did it with him first. Reading about magic might be the only way I can see him again. If I want to, that is."

"That's it! I can't take any more of this. You stay here and die of old age, while you figure out if you still love your boyfriend. I'm going to have fun. At least one of us should."

Remy cast a quick spell to freshen her makeup and hair, daring her brother to say something. Anything.

"Where are you going? You know you're not supposed to leave the school grounds," Adam cautioned. "Dad will be pissed if he finds out."

"No, he won't. He'll never catch me and if he ever did, I could just blame your constant moping making me insane. Seriously, if you went downstairs to even have a game of chess with a stranger, Dad would probably throw a party of his own."

"He would not," Adam grumbled defensively. "I'm not that bad."

"Yeah, you are," Remy confirmed, looking at her phone. "Don't worry, I have some fun planned for you despite your aversion to anything interesting. You can't just stay in here mourning Theo forever."

"Oh god, what have you done now, Remy?" Adam groaned. "I don't need your idea of fun. That usually leads to hangovers and possible academic suspension."

"You'll see," she teased, putting on a revealing dress in an instant and rechecking her hair. "I got your boy crush's phone number, why don't you try entering it on your new phone? Oh wait, I already did while you stared at the wall all day."

"Boy crush?" Adam repeated. "I don't have any crush, you're being deluded again."

"I've seen the way that you look at Josh from Crystal Cove," Remy laughed. "Oh, Josh, help me find this rare crystal. Josh, do you want to help me study? My boyfriend just can't answer questions like you can. Let's have little crystal babies together."

Remy made an obnoxious kissing noise and Adam whipped a pillow at her.

"That's not true!" he shouted. "Josh and I are just friends. He's dating someone from Arkhelios!"

"Just like you, see this is working out," Remy replied. "You have so much in common. I told him that you wanted to spend some alone time to talk about rocks and he was into it. Dad might not have told you, but he called the coven nearly every day after you got hurt. He likes you."

"Remy! You didn't!"

Adam's mind reeled as he thought of the damage Remy had done. Josh was an attractive, powerful warlock who Adam looked up to. He was a couple years older than Adam and currently had a boyfriend in college, Melvin Jr Hydes. Josh and Melvin always seemed so happy together, just like he and Theo used to be and the thought of Josh thinking that Adam wouldn't respect that relationship was horrible.

It wasn't like Remy was too off base though, if Adam was honest with himself. Josh was the great-nephew of the king of Strangetown and was named after Master Toyonaga, someone he had always longed to have as a teacher. In an alternate world, Adam would learn under Master Toyonaga and continue to pursue crystal magic as a major. The fact that Josh would also be there was just a bonus.

Josh didn't make Adam feel like he did when he was with Theo, but Adam could still feel his heart race when Josh helped him with a project. The fact that Remy had picked up on this fact was dangerous. If she knew about his silly crush, how obvious was it to everyone else? Did Josh know? Did Theo?

"Hey, Adam. I was just wondering if you wanted to do something together? Your sister said you might want to hang out?"

Adam's heart froze in his chest when he saw Simon Toyonaga appear in their doorway, looking optimistic. From the way his sister was beaming, Adam assumed that this visit was also her idea. Had she invited every member of the Toyonaga family in their age group to cheer him up?

"Remy!" Adam hissed, unsure if he was more angry or terrified by his sister's meddling. How on earth was she doing all of this?

"Oh, hi, Simon," Remy said sweetly. "Good timing. I was just going out and Adam could use some company. His boyfriend is still missing and he's feeling so hurt by him. Maybe you could cheer him up."

"Yeah, I can try," Simon said eagerly. "What do you want to do?"

Behind Simon's back, Remy was making obscene gestures with her hands, giving her brother suggestions for what they could do in her absence.

"Remy! Uh, yeah, I guess we could go for a walk or something," Adam said politely. It wasn't Simon's fault that Remy was out of control.

Simon was cute, and even Adam could figure out that Simon had a crush on him. Theo had always acted like he was oblivious to this fact if he did know. Unlike his father, there weren't several family stories about Theo going mad with jealousy and taking his anger out on people who simply looked at his partner. Roman was always the parent who made Adam nervous when he was at Theo's house because he was so predictably unpredictable. There was no way that Adam could picture Theo dumping Simon into a section of the Void because Adam thought he was attractive. No matter how Theo eventually returned to him, Adam knew that Simon would be safe if Remy tried to convince Theo that something had happened while he was gone.

But i thought that he would never hurt me. Maybe the Theo I thought I knew never really existed.

"It's nice out here," Simon commented.

After forcing Remy to go to her party or whatever she had planned so that she'd leave him alone, Adam and Simon had walked in near silence down to the outdoor balconies. Simon watched Adam in case he wobbled or needed assistance, but it wasn't needed. The majority of his physical wounds had healed, though Adam supposed that people couldn't have known that if they never saw him out in public.

"I never really come out here at night," Simon continued awkwardly. "It's peaceful."

"Theo and I always sat out here. You can see a lot of cool birds and there's a pretty good view of some of the royal residences."

"So, uh, do you know when Theo will be back in school?" Simon asked carefully. "Is he coming back? I've heard a lot of conflicting things."

"He'll be back," Adam promised. "Evren might burn down the school if he doesn't. All the adults talk in hushed whispers when Theo's mentioned, so I'd imagine that something is happening. Maybe he'll come back early."

"So you are still dating him? Remy made it sound like-"

"Remy doesn't know what she's talking about," Adam said quickly. "I don't know how I'll feel when I see him again, but I owe it to him to not break up with him while he's not here to know that we're done. Remy means well, but sometimes she goes too far."

"That's admirable," Simon replied. "Theo's lucky to have you...that is if you decide to stay together. Relationships aren't easy."

"No, they're not," Adam agreed. "I learned that the hard way."

"So what are you up to lately?" Simon asked, redirecting their conversation away from the topic of Theo. "You miss a lot of class, are you having trouble keeping up? I can always try to help, though my grades have never been as good as yours. Do you have any hobbies?"

Adam paused, trying to think of a response.

"No, not really. I haven't been doing much of anything lately. It's too hard to focus on anything but Theo...and everything that happened."

"You like crystals, though, don't you?" Simon pressed. "You made Theo that ring he's always showing off and I remember your year-end project from last year. It was the prototype for a new wand, right? Did you ever get that to work?"

Adam frowned, unsure of the answer to that question.

"I don't know, I dropped it after I could use the Maricourt wand," he replied. "To be honest, I've kinda forgotten about it. My dad gets upset if I don't show off the Maricourt wand in class."

"Well, what would you rather wield? I like my trusty carved wand personally. I don't think I'll ever use the Maricourt wand after I can summon it. It's bulky and too much of a hassle."

"Yeah, I've never really thought about it," Adam said. "It's just what my dad told me to do. It's tradition. It's how you prove yourself to the coven." He paused. "Now that you mention it, the Maricourt wand is bulky and hard to maneuver. I smacked myself in the head a few times when i first tried to cast a proper spell with it."

"You worry too much about what adults think," Simon declared, staring up at the night sky. "Forget about Theo for now and focus on yourself. I mean, that's what he's doing, isn't he? He's finding out who he is and how to be that person going forward and you're just crying about him. I'm not trying to be mean, Adam, but you should use this time to grow in your own power. Try something new. Take a risk."

Adam thought carefully about this advice. Sure, Remy and his father had told him basically the same thing, but it felt different coming from an outsider to their family. Maybe he really was missing a silver lining with Theo's absence. When Theo came back, did he really want to see his boyfriend miserable and barely leaving his dorm room? Adam's body and magical skill had been transformed and he wasn't even experimenting with his abilities or how they could interact with the power of crystals. Why did he use the Maricourt wand in class when he could barely feel the difference in magical power when he used it? His magic had always felt amplified when channeled through a crystal prism. Whenever he searched for his limited connection to Theo, a crystal wand always made him easier to find. His feelings for Theo always seemed to be perfectly in tune with a crystal, vibrating together with perfect clarity.

"You're right," Adam said slowly, a powerful thought beginning to crystalize in his mind. "No one is going to bring Theo back here or let me talk to him. If I want to get closure, I need to find Theo myself."

"I'm not sure that was my point exactly," Simon replied. "You should find out about yourself and then when you're ready-"

"I can feel him faintly. If I could get a wand that would amplify that, I might be able to talk to him. I could take charge of this situation and fix all of this."

For the first time in months, the tightness in Adam's chest began to ease. Why was he sitting around waiting for someone else to bring Theo back to him? He had all the tools he needed to try to fix this. He was so preoccupied with all the changes that had happened to him, that he'd forgotten all the things that had stayed the same. He was connected to Theo magically, which not only gave him a clue to find Theo, but also borrowed some of Theo's insane power for himself. He was a Maricourt and a Darktide and he could do whatever he put his mind to.

"You're right, Simon!" Adam exclaimed, feeling hope trickle back into his heart for the first time in months. "I know just who to help me find Theo."

"Please don't tell your sister that this was my idea," Simon whimpered. As much as he liked Adam, he was rightfully frightened of Remy, Bronwen and Elowen. If they thought that he had influenced their brother into something rash and dangerous, Simon was doomed.

Adam summoned one of his practice wands for dueling class and immediately waved it in a basic summoning spell. Using a practice wand dulled the spell's power so that the target wouldn't be summoned against their will. They could choose to ignore the summons if it was inconvenient for them. The last thing Adam wanted was to summon his guest if he was getting ready for bed.

"Adam? So are you are alive! I was starting to have my doubts."

A glowing figure emerged from nothingness before the two boys' eyes. Adam beamed seeing his visitor, consciously trying not to look too excited.

"Josh! Remy mentioned that you were looking to talk with me," Adam said, brushing his hair slightly so less of his scar was visible. "Simon and I were just talking, and I may have a project for us. I need to talk to Theo and there's no traditional way of finding him. From what my dad says, he's in a place we can't even summon him. His dad already tried and it's like wherever he is has some kind of shielding. I can barely feel my connection to him, but with the right crystal, I might be able to enhance it. So I was thinking-"

"Slow down, Adam, I haven't seen you in months and you're talking a mile a minute about a crystal? How are you? What happened? Your dad gave me your new phone number and you've been ghosting me. I texted you. Are you doing any better?"

Adam froze, the weight of his memories steamrolling over the limited confidence he'd felt.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "I can walk like normal now, and I've gone back to regular classes. I'm fine."

Josh nodded, realizing that he'd pushed too hard in his excitement to hear from his friend. If he wanted to help Adam, he would have to slow things down.

"I'm glad to hear that. You can catch me up to date while we're working on this project of yours."

Adam's face brightened once more. As long as he didn't have to think about what had happened, he could maybe start to see a path forward.

"I need a new wand," he explained. "I was hoping that you or Master Toyonaga could help me make that wand I was working on before. If I can get the right wand, I might be able to talk to Theo. All I need is some help."

"And I can help you," Josh replied. "I made my own wand last year. Just about everyone in the coven has at least one wand that they've made themselves. It's surprisingly easy with the right crystals."

"I knew I could count on you."

Adam beamed with a new excitement now that he had a tangible plan in front of him. Finally, something in his life that he could control. Josh was going to help him find Theo and then things would finally change. He'd know just how he felt about both his boyfriend and his future once he could make a stronger wand.

"Well, I think we could start with coffee first before we jump right into magic," Josh laughed. "I get that you don't want to talk about certain things, but it's been forever since we hung out. Crystals resonate stronger when you are honest about your feelings and intentions, so let me help focus your magic. Does the coffee machine in the kitchen still work or did Travis break it again?"

"Travis broke the coffee machine?" Adam repeated. "I don't think he did, but-"

"It was about a month ago," Simon said. "He was testing whether he could brew coffee with the attributes of a potion he was working on. The kitchen was a disaster and the new machine only came in last week. There were a lot of pissed off people in the mornings."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"Because you haven't been outside your bedroom in ages," Josh replied. "The world kept turning despite Theo being gone. This is what I'm saying, let's get you back into society and when you're back, your magic will take care of itself. You know crystals are stronger when they're surrounded by others in tune with you."

"Yeah, I know. That makes sense." Adam paused, trying to summon the courage to move forward when the past was still so overwhelming. Crystals did need clarity and focus and if he wanted to find Theo and find himself again, Josh's suggestion made sense.

"Okay, one cup of coffee. But that's it."