#being obsessed with something for four years and this movie comes along and just
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frozentothetouch · 1 year ago
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I just realized how having a diff hyperfixation makes me forget everything about what I was into before…
like I’ve been in spiderverse brainrot for the past 2 months and finally thought about tpn again and I…can’t remember
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oceansmotion · 3 months ago
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Welcome to Gaudy Shore!
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Power, fame, wealth— for decades, Sims have come to Gaudy Shore seeking fortune. On the outside, the glitz and glamour are dazzling, but the dark, seedy underbelly of the city casts a long shadow. Will these families shine bright, or will the shadow swallow them up?
Featuring 12 households, Gaudy Shore sees the return of some much beloved and missed families from Sims 1! Set 25 years in the future, this hood can be played as a companion hood to Pleasantview, or on its own.
Every family has their own storytelling album so make sure to check them out!
Keeping reading to learn about the families in Gaudy Shore!
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Returning families:
The Mashuga Family
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Content to dance the night away, - every night, for decades, - Frankie and Sylvia Marie have taken a hands-off approach to raising their children. Now that they're in their twilight years, what are their kids willing to do to get what they believe is owed to them?
The Hick-Charming Family
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Elden only ever wanted what was best for his family, but somehow got himself involved in shady dealings. Charleigh is young and full of life, but will that get her into trouble with the boys? And will Clarke ever leave her bedroom?
The Jones-Smith Family
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The Jones-Smith family has been a pillar of the community for decades, and the death of Chris has sent everyone reeling. Nick has vowed to honor his mother by setting his career aside to focus on his family, but that's easier said than done.
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Michelle loves to dance, sing, and drink the night away, especially after the death of Mama Chris. Is her new interest in the town magnate genuine, or just another way to extend the party?
New Families:
The Banks Family
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Rich, powerful, beautiful— the Banks family is known throughout town for everything beauty-related. Obsessed with only herself, will Arie uncover her husband's secrets? Lux thinks of himself as a good man, but is he really? Will Benjamin choose to follow his heart or his mind?
The Ramoz Family
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Nora has always dreamt of being a famous movie star but has found mild success in the writing and voice acting world. Can that be enough for her, or will she strive for bigger and better things? Julien had his heart broken by his two best friends in the world. Can he ever forgive them? And will Carlos find himself involved in the shady underbelly of Gaudy Shore?
The Ermírio de Moraes Family
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Wealthy, powerful, lonely, José has it all… except love. Is he blind to reality, or is this new relationship the real deal?
The Jenkins Family
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Naive, sheltered Alyssa has lived her life under the strict thumb of her mother, Miriam. Will she be willing to ruin someone else's life to get the love and affection she's always desperately craved?
The Nelle Family
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Quiet and reclusive, only a few Sims in town really know the Nelle family, but it doesn't take a genius to notice that something isn't quite right with them.
The Waltzman Family
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Ever the partier, Wesley finally grew up and changed his outlook on life, but this has left him a little over protective of his sister, Wilma. Will he ruin her chances at happiness? And will he find love despite his ties to another?
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Heartbroken for years, Wilma has finally gotten over her first love… or has she? She just met Donovan, but will her wandering eye lead her to her family's demise?
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Four strangers living under one roof and a fresh divorce. Can Walda and Walter Waltzman get along after their divorce, or will they disrupt the perfect harmony Ines and Fernando Ermírio de Moraes have enjoyed for decades?
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Gaudy Shore features 12 playable households, 20 community lots, 3 apartment buildings, and 10 empty houses all built by me , except for Cafe Petit, a lot bin cafe (I like to think of it as a chain). Terrain also made by me. The hood comes with its own unique townies and strays; a few townies even own and work at some of the business around town!
This hood is not CC free but it isn't a lot
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CC that I didn't use a lot of and the hood is fine without:
Wire Fencing by Cyclonesue on TSR
Stair Wall Fix by JRW on MTS
Photos & Plaques Hide with Walls Down by Numenor on MTS I used A LOT OF PICTURES taken with the career reward camera and the walls are very cluttered with photos, so I do recommend this mod.
Diagonal 3t2 Bungalow Windows by Nysha on MTS
Natural De Fences by Rosebine on MTS
CEP by Numenor on MTS
CC that will alter the hood significantly:
Bespoke Build Set by Bespoke on MTS
Shiftable Everything by Lamare on MTS
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I've been working on this hood on and off for a long time now, and I'm so happy that it's finally finished. It is definitely a labor of love and I hope you enjoy it <3 While Gaudy Shore was originally intended to be a subhood to complement Pleasantview, there are no ties to PV at all and can be played on its own. Please make sure to check out all the story images I included, I had a lot of fun taking them! For those adding the hood as a subhood, José, Michelle, and the Waltzman kids have which apartments they are supposed to be in at the end of their bios. And for the retirement home, I left it as a normal residential lot, but can also be converted into an apartment lot, or you can maybe use dorm doors, or mods to set each apartment to the correct Sim.
I have also gone through every Sim to set their intended names across all languages, so if your game is not in English, the Sims should still have the names I gave them!
Thank you to everyone that helped me along the way and play tested the hood for me, I really appreciate you <3
Download Mainhood || Mediafire Box
Download Subhood || Mediafire Box
Terrain Only || Mediafire Box
If the names got scrambled, you can use this program from MTS to fix them, it's really easy! Can also be used to fix any other neighborhoods that get messed up :)
Please let me know if the subhood version works as intended and does not yeet itself out of the game, test on a testhood!
Edit: Only download ONE version at a time.
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mc-i-r · 1 year ago
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Disposable Heroes
Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link
A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!
Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks
———
It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.
It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.
See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.
He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.
There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.
He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.
Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.
Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.
Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.
Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.
“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”
Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.
“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.
“Um.. what do you mean?”
“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.
“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.
“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”
The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.
Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.
The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.
“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.
Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.
“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”
Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.
“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”
“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“
“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”
Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.
“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.
Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.
Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.
But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.
He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.
Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.
Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.
He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.
“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.
He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.
A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.
Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.
“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.
“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.
“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.
“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.
“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.
The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.
He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.
God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.
“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”
Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.
Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?
Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.
He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.
With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.
Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.
But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?
Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.
To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.
The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.
“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.
“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.
“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“
His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.
The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.
It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.
The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.
Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.
Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.
“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”
Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.
“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”
Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.
Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.
He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.
So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.
It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?
He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.
And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.
Eddie. He wants Eddie.
A voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.
Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.
“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.
“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.
This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.
“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.
“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.
“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.
“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.
“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…
He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.
“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.
“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”
Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.
Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.
“How did you-“
“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”
Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.
He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.
After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.
“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.
“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.
“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.
“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.
“I really should be going, sorry.”
“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.
“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.
“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.
“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.
“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”
He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.
They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.
“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.
“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.
“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.
Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.
He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.
It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.
He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.
After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.
He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.
After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.
So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.
A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.
His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.
He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.
So he walks.
He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.
Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.
Eddie. Eddie.
His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.
It doesn’t. Steve steps back.
He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.
He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.
He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.
He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.
At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.
But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.
Steve walks out the door.
His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.
He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.
Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.
Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.
Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.
On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.
He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?
Maybe this will fix him.
Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.
Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.
Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?
But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?
He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.
He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.
He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.
His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.
The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.
It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.
He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.
A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.
But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.
It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.
It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.
Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.
The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.
He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.
Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.
A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-
Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.
Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.
“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.
“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-
“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.
Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.
“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.
To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.
“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”
Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.
“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”
Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.
Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-
“What the fuck is this?”
Shit.
“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?
“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“
“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.
Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.
He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.
“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.
“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.
Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.
“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.
“Okay.”
Eddie’s smile grows.
His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.
“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”
Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.
It’s terrifying.
He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.
Shit. He’s so gone for this man.
Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.
He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.
“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.
“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.
The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.
“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”
Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”
‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’
Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.
“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.
“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.
He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.
“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”
“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.
Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.
His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.
His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.
A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.
The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.
The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.
Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.
Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.
His house. Light.
They’re safe. He collapses.
He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.
He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.
The bat finds a new home in his trunk.
Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz
(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)
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echantedtoon · 6 months ago
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Lmao, so this one is going to be a crazy!
Reader who in fun tries to summon a demon with her friends and ends up proposing a marriage to the demon in joke. Nothing happens. But as soon as her friends left and she is left cleaning there, the demon actually appears and accepts her offer and refuses to leave. The demon is serious about the proposal and considers her his wife. She eventually gives and by time they do adjust and actually end up falling for each other??? (Btw, the demon is only visible to those he wishes to see him. So whenever reader goes to work he accompanies her.)
(you can choose any one between Kokushibo or Akaza to write for this. And I'm sorry if it's too much to ask or causes any issue-)
HERE YOU GO!!
(warning for demon summoning if that makes you uncomfortable. I just made up some stuff for this based off video games where that happened hope that's ok.)
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"Let's summon a demon!"
A thunderstorm rolled across the sky that night. The sun was just setting over the horizon with the last few rays of daylight disappearing but it was hard to tell when the dark storm clouds took over the sky and claimed them as their own. Thunder shaking the lanes of the windows and lightning sounded off like an angry whip from whatever deity was angrily stomping around the clouded skies, lighting up the sky and city below for nothing but a brief second.
It would've been absolutely dark if you hadn't lit up a few candles inside the comfy room and placed them on the table to light up the room. The warm light comforting against the scary night sky that just appeared as the last few daylights were chased away. The candlelight was pretty but you might be asking yourself one question. Why are you using candles to light up the room when you can just turn on the light switch on the wall or use a flashlight like a normal person?
Well because it wasn't your idea. It was your friend's. 
If it were up to you, your bedroom light would've been on in an instant and you four wouldn't be sitting here in the dark. But as another thunder clap shook the sky outside, her face had scrunched up into a mischievous grin wide enough to let the other three ladies around her know that she had come up with a devious idea. It started when of your friends said that they were bored during the usual sleep over activities and so you suggested watching a scary movie instead! 
"How about The Death Book?"
"What's it about?"
"It's about this girl who finds this blank diary and everything she writes in it becomes true! It turns out the diary is possessed by a demon who becomes obsessed with her and grants her wishes with horrible twists!"
That's when your most devious friend gotten that look before hijacking the convo. "I have a better idea! Y/n, you have any candles?"
"Only scented candles. Why?"
"That'll work! Go get them all and we'll do something that's actually thrilling!"
You had no idea what she was talking about but decided to humor her and go get them and matches she asked for. You had a few scented candles collecting up space in your closet, most were Christmas gifts you were just planning on regifting that year anyways since you never really used them. But you were curious about what your friend was up too so you grabbed up all the bars, the different scents making your nose snort, and brought them out to everyone watching you take them out of your closet and plopping them down on your bed. Your friend then proceeded to grab a glass jar containing a 'holiday sugar cookie' scented white candle, lit it, and then got up to turn off the lights and ask you to close the curtains. 
Oh! She wanted to do the classic ghost story telling in the dark game! Nope. As soon as you turned around and you along with your other two friends looked at her, the statement left her mouth.
"Let's summon a demon!"
The three of you stared at her and her smile lit up by the scented candle, a nice scent of sugar cookies in the air. The only sounds being the thunder still rumbling outside. Eventually one of you broke the weird silence.
"You mean like...Use a ouija board? That's something everyone does at sleepovers-"
"No! I meant actually summon a demon!," she corrected excitedly clenching a fist!
"Uh..Have you lost your dam mind?"
"Oh come on! We all know that ghosts and stuff don't exist anyways!" She waved a hand dismissively. "We've tried using a ouija board since we were ten but nothing ever happened so why not try taking it up a notch!"
"Because it sounds like a waste of time." You deadpanned raising a brow. "Why go through all the effort to do something when we already KNOW that it's just stupid Hollywood stuff?"
"For the thrill of it!" You three looked at each other. Two of you having bored looks while the third looked worried. "Come on! Just this once! And if nothing happens I'll pay for two pizzas from that pizza place we all like!"
"...Throw in those chicken tenders and a couple sodas and you have a deal," your bored friend bluntly stated.
"DEAL!"
"I don't know.." Your friend that looked worried frowned. "This is how a bunch of horror stories start. What if something really happens?"
"PSH. It won't. If nothing happened when we used a ouija board then we got nothing to worry about!"
"And you just magically happen to know how to summon a demon how?"
"Not just a demon!" Her hand pointed up as she grinned. "A Yokai!"
"A yo-..What?"
"A Yokai! Or oni if you prefer to call it that instead! It's a Japanese spirit!"
"We know what that is! And you happen to know that how?"
"During my culture studies at school I was studying the local folklore and stumbled onto an old legend of the area! They say that a night monster used to roam the lands and strike down people every full moon until a shrine was put up for him. It's still there now! I visited it during a school trip!" She explained excitedly. "I did an interview with the caretaker for my extra credit report and it turns out his family's descendants of the shrine maidens that used to be there!"
"That's good and all but that still doesn't answer my question."
Your friend groaned loudly and slumped her shoulders with an eye roll. "He said the shrine maidens used to have a symbiotic relationship with the specific oni. They'd perform a ritual once a year on a new moon or full moon to summon him and leave him really good offerings. If he liked it enough he might grant you something in return!"
"And he told you how to summon this thing?"
"Yeah because he didn't believe in it. I don't either since ghosts and goblins only exist in books and movies. But what's the harm? If nothing happens I'm buying everyone food and we can have a good laugh if we do happen to summon something we might get a wish granted! Whaddya say?"
There was more silence from you three until your bored friend sighed and rolled her eyes from where she sat. "Fine I guess. Sounds like a win win situation. And I wouldn't mind getting an A on my next math exam."
You sighed. "Alright. Let's just get this over with."
"That's the spirit! But first thing's first!.. Does anyone know if it's a new or full moon tonight?"
Your nervous friend, who still looked nervous, had to pull out her phone and look it up online. The glow of the screen making her face light up in the dark as the thunder still rang out and the first few raindrops began hitting the roof of your home.
"Full moon b-b-but does it count if the storm is blocking out the sky?"
"He only told me it has to be a full of new moon, not that you had to see the moon. We're also gonna  need right white candles to represent the right moon phases, something red to draw the symbols in, and an offering from each of us that has some kind of connection to our wishes!" Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Let's try it out!"
If it got you free food and your rowdiest friend to be quiet, then you weren't going to complain. So you four got to work. A friend found an extra red lipstick when she dug out her bag and like you said before, you had a bunch of scented candles you weren't using....but that begs the question.
"Does scented candles even count?" You gazed down at two white scented candles with the scents labeled 'fresh morning snow' and 'shortbread blast'. 
"He just said that the candles had to be white, not that they couldn't be scented."
"Yeah. But there's another problem. I only have seven white candles. .." Your eyes looked around the mini candle collection. The others were different colors like the red one that smelt like cinnamon and the purplish-black one labeled 'midnight lilacs'. Eventually you found a glimmer of white in the limited darkness with only your phone to see, and pulled out a candle that was half white half brown labeled 'chocolate and vanilla delight'. "I got a brown and white one. Does that count?"
"We're gonna have to make due with it. Well just put the white half facing the center and maybe that'll help."
Well if that's all you had then you four really were going to have to make due with what you had on hand. One friend helped you cleared up space in your room at least a yard and a half clear, while your devious friend drew red lipstick marks onto your floor and the fourth began placing the candles in a circle around her lighting them up as she went until both stepped away and you four were left looking down at the circle of eight candles and three symbols in the center of them. Lightning clashed outside behind the curtains barely lighting up the room but you managed to make out three words written in Japanese kanji in red lipstick.
Upper. Moon. And One.
You didn't know what that meant but it was ominous in your eyes. The room smelt far too heavy with the pretty scents of sugar cookies, vanilla, daisies, and a few other scents. It was overwhelming and one of you snorted from it all.
"Dam. It smells like someone spilt the entire isle of Fabreath from Wallace-Market in here." She waved a hand before pinching her nose and turning to her. "So what now?"
"Now we put down an offering related to what we want to wish for? Like if you wanted to wish for a million dollars you put down like some rare collector coins or something! Just look around and see what you got!"
While the others looked through their bags, you mindlessly searched around the room for something meaningless you could just throw meaninglessly into the circle. Your eyes gazed over at your jewelry box...and you shrugged. Why not? You had a pair of thick hooped silver earrings your uncle gave you for your birthday last year. They were even real silver, just cheap copper ones painted to look silver. You never wore them anyways so they'd be perfect for this. You opened up the lid narrowing your eyes into a squint. Despite the light of your phone, it was hard to see in the dark. Your hand moved things around inside the box. Old necklaces and things jingling until you saw them. Ah! There they were! Right next to your great grandparents' wedding rings. Now THOSE were actually worth a lot. Real gold and studded with real diamonds. You inherited them box along with their old jewelry box but that didn't matter right now. You wanted the useless tacky earrings next to them. Even now most of the shiny silver paint had peeled off revealing the cheap copper hoops underneath.
"C'mon Y/n! Hurry up! I want that pizza as soon as possible!"
You looked around mindlessly just reaching in and grabbing two round things into your hand. "Coming!"
"What did you grab?" Her brow rose as you just rolled your eyes. 
"Just some old jewelry. What about you?"
She held up an ink stone. Probably got it from her school bag. "I was gonna use it for an art project but since I want an A for my exam and I have to write on the test, it was a good enough match."
"Sounds like a good start."
Your other two friends pulled out a book on rare poetry and a small bag of store bought mochi candy. ...Strange offering but you guessed it was the only thing that they could find. Your friend instructed you all placed the offerings on the strange words in Japanese and stepped back without a second thought to look at them....And you four stood there in your pajamas with nothing but the candles to light up the darkness and the rain still pounding at your rooftop.
Silence other than the storm rang out and you four looked around the room exchanging looks sometimes.
".....Is that it?"
"I told you it was a waste of time! Let's just get some food now. I'm starving!"
"Wait! I forgot about the last important step!" She held up her hands as your mutual grumpy and hungry friend turned to go flip on the light switch. "I need to chant the incantation and then we have to say what we want!"
Her arms folded. "Well get on with it! I'm hungry and this is really not fun!"
"Alright, alright! Let me try to remember what the guy told me!"
She stood there staring at the mess of lit candles and lipstick smeared kanji scrunching her brows in deep thought. You and your grumpy friend exchanged mirrored deadpanned looks before she cleared her throat and held her arms out.
"Full moon on the rise. New moon hides from eyes. Abyss of darkness conquering the skies! We summon, summon him from the ground. To our circle lit and round. Oh one who walks the path of Moon, we come once more to ask you soon! Come from slumber, to seek out what we offer! Great one of Moon bound light, we ask for you to once more walk the night!"
Her voice shouted out loud enough that you were sure you'd be getting a complaint from the neighbors tomorrow morning. As she finished her chant, a lightning bolt struck out temporarily lighting up the sky outside as the rain poured out...As you all waited looking around more.
"Would you look at that? Nothing happened again. NOW can we get food?"
"Wait! We didn't say what we wanted yet!," she protested to her, "The wish is a part of the ritual so let's complete it ok?!" Your friend groaned but she quickly excitedly exclaimed. "I wish my mom would finally give me the secrets to famous udon recipe so I can start selling it myself!"
"Um..." You nervous friend cautiously and worriedly looked around the dark room. "C-Can I m-meet my favorite author please? O-Only if that's ok! I'm fine if nothing happens really!"
"Oh what the hell. I want an A on my next exam."
...All three looked at you expectantly. "What?"
"Say something, Y/n." 
"Like what?"
"I don't know. What did you put down?"
You shrugged. "Some cheap jewelry I don't want honestly."
"OOOH. Wish for something good then! Oh! Oh! I see you always sitting by yourself! Ask him to get you a boyfriend?," you friend teased making you laugh.
"Really? We summon a Yokai just for me to ask him for a boyfriend? If he was real, he'd probably think I was crazy."
"Well it doesn't have to be a boyfriend. You can ask for a sign of who you're meant to be with." That devious smile returned again. "Y'know that caretaker guy told me a lot of maidens would pay the shrine maidens to do rituals and summon the onis as offered brides in exchange for good fortune for their villages. Why don't you ask him to put a ring on it? You'd be the first person to be get a real life monster boyfriend. All the monster lovers on the Internet would be so jealous."
"Plus you're beautiful," your grumpy friend added also with a teasing grin. "You made home coming and prom queen in highschool!"
You laughed again. "Looks aren't everything." You could barely contain the giggles. You then rolled your eyes sarcastically. "But sure." Your hands clasped together and pressed against your chest as you spoke. "Oh great Oni please hear my pleas for your heart!" Even your nervous friend giggled along now as you dramatically fell to your knees. "Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."
A loud snort went off as one of your friends fell back on your bed where she sat giggling out the cheesy lines you were making up on the fly.
"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering some lines from a rom com chick flick you saw last night. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity. Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this offering, I ask you to be mine!" You then bowed your forehead to the floor as everyone continued to giggle loudly. 
You all continued to laugh and laugh and laugh as you finally broke into laughs again too and sat back up- 
And then all the candles went out at the same time.
Pitch black immediately enveloped the room and at once all laughs ceased. Nothing but silence rang out other than the rain and thunder and occasional strike of lightning. You four stayed silent as you all say there in the dark before your friend became grumpy again.
"Ok. Haha. Very funny, Y/n. Now we can't see shit!"
"That..w-wasnt me," you stuttered out staring at the floor in front of you silently and wide eyed.
"Sure it wasn't. You're literally kneeling in front of them!"
"I don't have the ability to blow out right giant candles at once! Besides some of them were out of my reached! I'd have to crawl over! It wasn't me!" 
"Well it's not me! I'm standing up!"
"It wasn't me!" "I'm sitting all the way over here on the bed."
Silence fell Once Again as you all sat there 
"....It must've just been a draft! There's no such thing as ghosts and demons! Get the light! I'm tired of this game now!"
Someone was heard stumbling and shuffling around in the dark before you heard hands patting along the wall and then a serious of clicks as someone tried turning on the lights. "It won't turn on!"
"No one panic!" Someone finally turned on the flashlight on their phone and lit up the room. "The storm just cut out the power supply. Let's just get some food and call it a night!"
"Wait! The offerings!"
The light shines towards the middle of the circle. One bag of mochi candy, an ink stone, and a book still laid there. Where was your earrings? You pushed the book aside and froze as you realized that it wasn't a cheap pair of earrings that greeted you..but one beautiful gold ring. 
"My great grandmother's ring!" You quickly snatched it up safely into your hands in horror. "I-I must've grabbed them by mistake!" Wait. You remembered feeling two hoops in your hands. "My great grandfather's ring!" Quickly you pushed aside everything else and was horrified to discover that it was gone. "IT'S MISSING!!"
"Calm down. It must've rolled away or someone accidentally kicked it in the dark. It's still around here."
"Yeah. And so is everything else. I CALLED IT! I TOLD you it wasn't gonna work! Now order the food!"
"B-But my ring!"
"It's too dark to look with the power out. Let's just wait until it's day time and then we'll look around. Ok?"
"I-...*sigh* Alright."
"GREAT! Now let's eat. And don't forget the chicken and drinks!"
Little did all of you know that the curtains were moved back on their own. Six eyes staring at your beautiful face and a glittering gold band wrapped around his ring finger.
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cbrownjc · 8 months ago
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Hi, Fun question I had while waiting for episode 6
Do you think Lestat, Daniel, Armand and Louis would like the twilight movies? Why and to which character would they relate the most?
Have a nice day!
Hi!
Well, first I should admit to you that I don't like Twilight. I've always disliked it since I read the first book before the first movie even came out. (And that is the only book in the series I've read BTW, though I have seen all 4 films -- only the first one in theaters though). So I actually don't know how objective I can be about this question . . . but I'll try. 🤔
And oh, you know what? I think Anne Rice herself commented on what Lestat and Louis thought about Twilight in a Facebook post back in the day, even though I don't have a copy of it. Which probably has a nicer reaction to it than I would give them about it. Or, at least what their book versions think about the series.
But I'm assuming you asking about the show versions of the characters and what they think, and with that? Well --! 😈
IMO, Lestat, and Louis both would find the whole movie series mostly hilarious IMO, just like they did Nosferatu. I can also see Lestat needling Louis a little bit wrt the whole "Bella has visions of Edward" thing if Lestat knows about Louis having visions of him during his first few years in Paris, and Louis being annoyed by that and insisting it was a totally different thing when it came to him -- given that, for one he was an actual vampire at the time unlike her and "vampire bond" and all of that -- and he is nothing like Bella Swann thank you! Anyway, Lestat saves most of his snark and laughter for The Volturi however because, as far as a coven that is supposed to be the head of the vampire world, how ineffective are they!?
Louis is also the only one out of the four who's even bothered to read all of the books in the series, even the most recent ones like Midnight Sun. He thinks they are less funny than the movies, but that's more because he didn't have Lestat in his ear making comments or laughing along with him as he read them. And hey, he can admit he does relate to the "not wanting to eat humans" thing of the Cullens though, sadly, the way that works in their world doesn't in the real one. 😔 Louis also knows that if Jasper Hale was real, he would purposefully antagonize the hell out of him on sight for that Confederate Army stuff (because if you think the issue of slavery wouldn't come up at some point --!)
Armand, being the true cinephile of the group would, IMO, find the films terrible just as films. And he thinks Bill Condon fell off as a director once he did that series, which is sad because Condon's Gods and Monsters is a film he greatly likes. However, he couldn't help but wonder if Stephenie Meyer was used by some ancient vampire -- via the Mind Gift -- to write this series of stories for the mortal world that gets so much of real vampire lore so very wrong on purpose (he read the first book and that was enough); and that maybe she was used by some ancient vampires to do so to hide something from the mortal world about something that was going on in the actual vampire world at the time. He looked into that idea very much at the time and, even though he didn't find anything, he still looks into it on occasion from time to time still, years later. But look, as far as the main story itself goes, Armand gets Edward not wanting to turn Bella. He just thinks Edward went about it all wrong. And he lowkey also gets Jacob obsessing over Bella too -- but he doesn't want to look at why he does too much.
Daniel was forced to watch all 4 movies with his younger daughter -- one of the few things as a deadbeat dad he did do with her when she would spend time with him after the divorce. (Same reason he's seen all the Harry Potter movies as well.) He thinks they're okay -- not the best thing he's ever seen, but not the worst. And he weirdly understands Bella's obsession with Edward for some reason -- he even feels a kind of sympathy toward her about it, though he of course logically knows she should just get over it because it would be the healthier thing to do.
If you are a fan of the Twilight series I hope you weren't too offended by this answer to the question. Because yeah, I can't pretend to like that series, and so my answer was going to have the characters snarking and critiquing it in some way, if not just mostly indifferent about it (in the case of Daniel).
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oc-challenges · 1 year ago
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WELCOME TO THE OC NEW YEARS CHALLENGE!
Since the winter challenges struck out, we're crawling home. Luckily, the new years oc event is here and hopefully it will be the toast of the town. So before we all have to clean the glitter off the floor after the party, we're going to hold onto the memories of 2023 and looking forward to 2024. This event comes from @aliverse (me) and @elmunson with suggestions and feedback from the OC Challenges & Potluck discord, and it spans from the 26th of December 2023 to the 1st of January 2024. With the hope that you may never become a stranger to the oc community, let's go over the rules and then get to the challenges!
Rules
DO NOT copy others edits, if you feel someone has stolen your edits, follow these guidelines!
If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.
If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag onyc23.
Feel free to ask any questions, I promise I'll stay even when your scared, and I'm lost, and you're running away.
Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!
Have fun!
Day One: What A Tangled Web We Weave
On the first day, let's take part in one of my favorite trends this year—web weaving! Weave a captivating web incorporating quotes, images, screencaps, and more for your OC. If you're not familiar with the concept of web weaving, here's an account with a lot of examples.
Day Two: I Polish Up Real Nice
Sometimes we get tired or bored of an oc or an edit, but there still things we love about them. To reignite our love for these things, we're going to revise and revamp. Choose an oc, a story, or an edit to to refine and enhance to its fullest potential.
Day Three: In My _ Era
On the third day, let's reflect on the defining periods that have shaped either us or our original characters. Despite the initial impression, and my well known obsession, this is inspired by The Eras Tour but doesn't have anything to do with her.. We delve into the various eras within our OCs' lives, whether categorized by tv show season, movie, age, or any other criteria you can think of. Alternatively, share insights about the current era your in as a creator, like "in my hunger games oc era" or "in my gifset era".
Day Four: Everything New
Now that the studios have stopped being bitches, we can acknowledge all the remarkable releases of 2023 (a special shoutout to the talented individuals who contributed to their excellence). On day four, craft something inspired by a creation that emerged this year, whether it's an entirely new series or just a fresh installment in an existing one.
Day Five: Don't You Forget About Me
Though 365 days sounds like a long time, it doesn't always feel that way. In the midst of our activities this year, some things may have been unintentionally overlooked. Fortunately, there's still time to make up for it. Take this opportunity to craft something for an OC that took a backseat this year, bring to life that edit you've been yearning to create all along, or share that chapter you've been gradually working on throughout the year.
Day Six: In With The New
Let's not do out with the old, but we could certainly do in with the new. For day six, introduce a brand new oc or story you hope to be your newest muse for 2024.
Day Seven: Exchange The Experience
Tidings, tinsel, and a year of beginnings. It's start of a new chapter of our lives, especially for our original characters. Be sure to celebrate this new chapter by signing up for the OC Potluck New Years exchange and spreading joy.
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zeondraws · 2 months ago
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Finally had time for my boos OCs
Wanted to draw Alondra as study but ended up drawing her brother in. He put the kitchen on fire idk HOW-
Random thoughts down below!
Last four days I have been very productive I've noticed. Just interesting to see, I do manage to work on my projects when the time is there (I always worry I am incapable of working properly, whenever I see all these self employed artists that seem to manage well enough). I specifically took two days off work to clean my apartment and work on stuff. Still have to add something to furniture and wait for my new bookcase but- is going.
Tho I clearly seem to be afraid of paperwork, that fear keeps festering. Hm, I at least have therapy today, hope new therapist will be OK.
I always seem to work on something every day, tho I also have been living alone for years and it sometimes feels very lonely being in my apartment on my own (Tho I am also very used to being alone, sometimes I prefer it). Yesterday, my uncle told me I can turn to him to talk about anything etc. But I just know, if I talk about my feelings too often, he'll get offended at some point.
While I draw is the only time I can finally shed a tear, sometimes at least. It is therapeutic in some way. Also I started listening to a German youtuber hyper analyse every 5min of the first harry potter movie yesterday- She has like 30 episodes that take around 40-60min each. It's wild but also very interesting to listen to while drawing. (German folks may know about Coldmirror) Freaking giggled at some parts, a friend of mine joined the vc session and listened along, was fun.
But ye I hope I can go back to having proper therapy the coming months and sort some problems, I'm too scared to talk to anyone with. I think one topic that makes me feel incredibly awkward, that I have mentioned a bunch of time already? Is probably about love, but it makes me feel very weird. I still remember as a child where I got a crush on cartoon characters and it wasn't really bad. Tho I stopped trying to have that feeling after I obsessed over my chem teacher at the age of 16-17. It makes me feel very awkward to this day and sometimes feels very painful.
I'm turning 23 in about a month, which is wild to think. So much happened, since I left my uncles house. (for context I have two)
But I think developing a crush on a fictional character now makes me feel very weird. I don't know how to feel about it because I avoided having such feelings for ages, because this entire topic among other things has a lot of bad memories attached to it. There is some trauma that is waaaayy too personal, that I couldn't say here. At least not in the near future. But ugh I get emotional just thinking about it, for some reason it brings me back to child me playing uno on my own. Didn't really have many people to play with. Instead I hung out with my imaginary OCs and did stuff with them. They still help me out, whenever I need to overcome a challenge. Or me just imagining them, following me along in the mall. My favourites atm are Edwin and Kirsten, two of my Bus OCs.
Seems therapy, art and just writing my feelings down somewhere online helped the most. I tried doing a diary, but it sadly didn't work long term. If I could have a family member I can vent to instead, I'd be happy to but don't think it's given. I think even a partner scares me too much, I firstly want to be on my own rn.
Okay! I go relax today, busbusbusbusbusbusbusbusbus
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x0401x · 11 months ago
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Tsurune —Tsunagari no Issha— Official Fanbook Interview
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Director Yamamura Takuya
Debuted as a director in 2018 with “Tsurune —Kazemai Koukou Kyuudou-bu—”, recapping the series with a movie four years later. What has he found through working on “Tsunagari no Issha” with his team?
Making an animation that would “tear into everyone’s hearts”
——About the sequel’s production, what kind of work did you want to make it into?
I wanted to create an animation that would tear into the hearts of the viewers. There are so many animated works out there in the world, and unfortunately, some of them end up being forgotten. However, I believe even those works leave something behind that marks our hearts, like, “I love that one scene from that one movie”. I think this is the animation “tearing into your heart”. Up until now, even while working as an episode director for series other than “Tsurune”, I’ve always thought, “I want to make animation that will leave a strong impression”. With “Tsurune”, I have taken the position of series director, and this desire grew stronger during the production of the movie and second season.
——You have used ribbons for the OP and key visuals of the second season. Where did this idea come from?
One time, when I was gathering references of Japanese archery, I felt that there was an invisible connection between the clubmates. I figured it was both a connection between comrades and a connection with the things they had been doing until then. It was then that I decided to write the story of season 2 with “connections” as the theme. When I thought about how to depict it, I figured I wanted a motif that would make people feel a “connection” through imagery, not words. From there, after thinking about how to represent the characters’ relationships through bringing out their designated colors, the result we got to was the ribbons.
Portraying the paths of three archers
——How did you want to write Minato in the second season?
We depicted Minato’s “recovering from target panic” in the first season, but in the second one, I wanted to write Minato as a positive and cheerful protagonist, as the ochi of Kazemai. I wanted to portray him as pulling everyone along, until he could feel from the bottom of his heart that he “loves the bow”. From the start of season 2, Minato has become resilient, enough to be able to face any walls he hits with nothing but positivity, while also enjoying kyudo.
——You were also able to depict the shortcomings that come with being obsessed with kyudo.
When you research kyudo, you find out that some parts of it have things in common with our daily lives and how we work. There was a time when I was too preoccupied with nothing but myself, which gave me tunnel vision, and when I looked back, I realized I had been acting selfishly, but although I repented for it, the fact that I had a negative impact on the people around me means I wasn’t able to see things objectively. I wanted to depict these kinds of shortcomings, which everyone experiences at least once in life, in this story. That’s exactly what making animation is—there’s a limit to what a person can do by themselves. I think that only with someone else’s help and support can you finally accomplish what you weren’t able to do by yourself.
——There were many cuts in season 2 where Minato’s eyes left an impression.
Just as it says “I want to keep looking at this ‘infatuation’” on the thumbnail of the first key visual (page 9 of this book), I intended to portray the act of “looking” with care. This is also something I realized when gathering material about Japanese archery—that the archers look at the target very seriously. When I saw them doing that, I felt like this is how it goes—they “observe, take notice and learn”. We have also made the highlights bigger for the designs of the characters’ irises in the second season, in order for the photography of their eyes to feel convincing. I wanted to make it so that the movements of Minato’s heart, such as being stimulated by what people say to him or relating to someone else’s feelings, would be conveyed through his eyes. The way that Minato’s eyes motivate the people around him is implied in the expression “fire-starter”, which was used in the first volume of the novel. When you see someone doing their best, you also feel like doing your best, right?
——How did you plan to write Shuu, who is also Minato’s rival?
About Shuu, we could only depict fragments of him in the first season, so I wanted to portray his private life in detail in the second one. Born as the eldest son of the Fujiwara family, Shuu was raised with the expectation of behaving as an heir from a young age, so I think he had come to be called “the young nobleman” without even himself realizing it. But he shows a gentle face in front of Sae-chan, so the truth is that he does have a normal high school boy side to him. I’m glad we were able to show this casual facet of Shuu in the second season.
——Shuu’s attitude towards archery seemed to be different from Minato’s.
This is but my own interpretation and has nothing to do with the original novel, but I think Shuu was living his life thinking he had to be strong at all times. So perhaps he felt the strength that he had been looking for since early childhood in the sport called Japanese archery, where one has to face themselves. His father built a kyudojo in their home and asked Saionji-sensei to teach him, so it feels like he couldn’t back down (laughs). Because he’d been subconsciously shouldering these expectations from his father, he was taken aback when Ryouhei told him, “I had the feeling that he’s rooting for you”. Ryouhei’s presence must have been a big deal for Shuu, since it gives him different perspectives. I really think it’s great that Shuu started getting along with Ryouhei.
I was the one in charge of the storyboards for episode 7, which delves deep into Shuu. I believe the levels of completion in that storyboard are quite high, even amongst all the storyboards I’ve drawn until now!
——The paintings from episode 7 were also impressive.
We thought about what the most effective way of expressing things through animation would be, rather than saying them through dialogue, and as a result, we came up with the paintings. The painting decorating Shuu’s room carries the meaning of, “through meeting the Boy, the Black Eagle became king”. This foreshadows the fact that through meeting Minato, who can aim for the same heights as him, Shuu wins both the team and individual competitions at the national tournament. The crown in the painting being right on top of Shuu’s head as he sat in front of it was pure coincidence. It surprised me when I was checking the animation, like, “Huh, the crown is on Shuu’s head?!” and then the staff was even more surprised, like, “Was that not on purpose!?” (laughs).
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——Could you tell us about the appeal of Nikaidou Eisuke, who appears from season two?
The things Nikaidou does are so main character-like, aren’t they? In order to prove the superiority of the shamen-style shooting, he rebuilt a club on the verge of being disbanded by himself and went as far as the nationals. I think it’s charming that his purpose for shooting the bow was properly established and that he was set on quitting once it was achieved. Personally, I also really like the fact that he isn’t the kind of person who keeps doing things on a whim, but rather who is good at planning and is able to get things done.
——How did you think about writing Nikaidou in season two?
After rewatching episode 1, I noticed, during the regional tournament, that Nikaidou has an incredible way of putting up walls through his words and attitude (laughs). The plan was to make an impact on the viewers at first, like, “What’s up with this guy?” and then reveal the burdens he was shouldering as the story went on. I wrote him while hoping he would ultimately become the kind of character that people root for.
——He did show a lot of facial expressions.
Rather than being two-faced, he’s the kind of skillful character who changes the way he interacts with others depending on who they are. But although he’s skilled, he’s still a high school student, so of course, he has an awkward side to him. There are times when he shows his leadership within the club, yet he also ends up acting rebellious with Masa-san after being told this and that, even though he knows that Masa-san is right. He has many sides to him, but all of it comes from earnest actions in order to accomplish his goals.
——The flashback in episode 9 was an essential scene that shows his backbone.
Within the limited TV series slot of 20 minutes per episode, I think you always want to display maximum effect in the minimum amount of time. It was necessary to think about whether we’d be able to convey Nikaidou’s backbone through the short flashback scene of episode 9. I told Ishihara (Tatsuya)-san, who was in charge of episode 9’s storyboards, “I want you to depict the four seasons in the flashbacks so that they represent the passage of time”. I think it’s a scene that lets you feel the precious days that Nikaidou and his uncle Shigeru spent together along with the change of seasons. I personally think Nikaidou had a superb reaction when his uncle asked him, “Do you have to shoot like that?” as he was about to abandon the shamen-style shooting. The way he averts his eyes and dangles his feet under the table.
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m-rod-unofficial · 1 month ago
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this is not the ask i was trying to send you earlier! this is a lot of thoughts about bloodrayne i suddenly had while trying to remember the point of that ask, lol. frank kitchen ramblings incoming if this one goes through
i thought for sure there had to be a katarin/rayne fic -somewhere- out there, probably floating around in the depths of livejournal. no luck, though. unbelievable 'cause to me it's so slashy. don't people like vampires?? i did learn in the course of that search that the original tv guide listing when the movie aired was "ludicrous adaptation of the gory video game" and see a couple of people agreeing with me that the best performance by far is katarin's very campy dad, so i guess that's something
escritoireazul wrote in her recap, "i'd say katarin eating that apple was a nice sign of the temptation and a fall to come, but that's probably too subtle." i feel like she could be onto something there. i wish she'd written for them. any katarayne (still trying to get that one off the ground) fic is probably gonna have to have a strong tooth focus anyway. you know every time she catches a glimpse of rayne's fangs she suddenly remembers she's not dealing with a human and feels a hot shuddering wave of…revulsion. yeah, that. nothing else. she's not pressing the pad of her thumb to the point of her sword and wondering or anything
…i don't think this is even a question, lol. i just remember you saying you were maybe gonna write something for them. i would be all over it. i can't decide whether to give it a stab (ha) considering that would involve actually rewatching that movie. my other idea for bloodrayne fic would be the adventures of the stronghold's tailor and his ongoing quest to outfit the ladies of the medieval anti-vampire resistance in the sluttiest capri pants imaginable. obviously he is either a time traveler from the year 2004 or periodically seized by prophetic visions of the limited
Actually unbelievable that's there's nothing about them out there. I think the most I've ever seen is a few people bringing it in the tags on posts here, but that's not really anything. Hard not to love Rin's campy father, honestly.
I still wanna write something for Katarin and Rayne!! That was my first thought when I watched the movie back in like... March I think? I drew some fanart and everything, which I'm not gonna share 'cause I don't like either drawing haha. One was just Katarin telling Rayna she had no place in Brimstone. Edited over it was that tweet that reads something along the lines of "I had a crush on a girl and didn't know how to deal with it, so I wrote her note telling her to get out of my school."
I have a roleplay blog where Katarin is one of my muses and that's about the extent of BloodRayne-related writing I've done so far, unfortunately :P
My main thought for a Katarayne fic is centered around the dueling scene, but I'm also generally into the concept of Katarin getting badly injured and being unable to fathom it when Rayne helps her, but having to suck it up and accept it because she can hardly stand, let alone mount her horse and get back to Brimstone's fortress.
I've rewatched the movie maybe four or five times at this point, which is probably more times than anybody else had made the active decision to sit down and dedicate their time to it. I love it, yet I would never recommend it to another human being because it's awful <3
I have a deep love for how much their outfits stick out. I mean, Rayne has the excuse of it being based off her outfit from the games. And also being in a circus, I guess? But her friend that she accidentally bites has a pretty normal dress on, so...
Katarin has no excuse. Obsessed with when she's about to go in the water and she's standing next to dudes in the most like, bland medieval attire imaginable. Shapeless tunics, plain belts, boots, and trousers in brown and beige... And Katarin is wearing a lavender jacket and 00s capris. Vaguely unrelated, but also love how she cleans her sword off with the end of her cape.
I read fanfic at a snail's pace, so I haven't finished your Tomboy rewrite yet, but it's really good so far! I also have a few of your F&F and Blue Crush fics in my bookmarks and didn't even realize until I was trying to find something the other day lol. Anyway, I'd definitely read a katarayne fic from you. Or about whatever the hell is going on with the tailor
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mcfiddlestan · 10 months ago
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Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks
🌈🎉����
🌈 is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?
I struggled the entire time trying to get through Ghosts That We Knew, the conclusion to the Picture Perfect series. I honestly hadn't planned to write a whole ass trilogy. Dark Side was the only one I had an idea for, and then halfway through, people wanted more. So I started planning the sequel, Come Back to Me. I'm not a fan of duologies. Trilogies just make more sense. So I started thinking up plots for the third entry. Where could Tony and Loki go after marrying and having two kids (one through a relationship, the other through a surrogate)? What kind of problems would they face? I had no idea, lol. I knew I wanted to insert another kid (Audrey Maria or "Audi"), but I also wanted to show that after 8 years and 3 kids, even the most in-love couples have bad times. I'd gotten about halfway through and just blanked on where to go. It didn't help I was having outside issues -- my RP partner (whom I was in love with) and I were having issues, I was stressing about school, and my dad was having health problems at the time. Oh, and I was struggling to RP too. But I was able to pull something out in the end. And everyone seemed to enjoy it. 😁
🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don’t, you should!)
Umm....I'm not sure what "celebrate" means?? I might give myself a mental high five? Say yay? LOL
🤍what’s one fic of yours you think people didn’t “get”?
It's not a fic that's completed, nor is it posted on AO3 anymore, but it's Fools Rush In. It was Frostiron set in the Matthew Perry/Salma Hayek movie. First time I was writing fem!Loki and even tho I only published like 4 or 5 chapters, I got complaints that Loki was "too feminist" and "obsessed with her dad's [Odin's] opinions about what a woman her age should be doing." To be clear, Loki was a 28yo grad student who'd been adopted by the Odinsons as a baby and at 13, chose to search for her birth parents who were teenagers when she was born. She was the youngest in the Odinson clan (Thor and Baldur being older) and the oldest in the Laufeyson family (Helblindi and Býleistr were much younger). And the only girl. So Odin certainly had a lot of opinions about her needing to be settled and married, not living with her bestie (Natasha) in an apartment in a big city.
This isn't the reason the fic is incomplete, tho! I removed it, along with four other fics, from AO3 and ff.net bc I'd reached a block on all of them and I felt bad just letting them sit there unfinished. I do hope to complete them someday. But we'll see. Here's a banner I made for it, when I still thought Olivia Wilde was a good choice for fem!Loki. I do not anymore.
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And this one was made by a fan (@/tomhiddlesdarling), and as much as I loved it, I'm not big on Eva Green.
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Thanks for asking!
Let’s Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks
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the-rewatch-rewind · 1 year ago
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My love for this movie is difficult to express, but here is my attempt.
Script below the break
Hello and welcome back to the Rewatch Rewind. My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be talking about number three on my list: Paramount Pictures, Guber-Peters Company, PolyGram Pictures, and Debra Hill Productions’ 1985 comedy mystery Clue, directed by Jonathan Lynn, written by John Landis and Jonathan Lynn based on the board game Cluedo designed by Anthony E Pratt, and starring Eileen Brennan, Tim Curry, Madeline Kahn, Christopher Lloyd, Michael McKean, Martin Mull, and Lesley Ann Warren.
Six strangers are invited to an ominous, secluded mansion to meet the man who has been anonymously blackmailing them. But someone wants to protect their secret badly enough to kill for it, and as the bodies begin to pile up, the butler, maid, and guests race to discover the culprit before the police arrive.
I grew up in a board game playing family, so I learned how to play Clue soon after I learned how to read. We also had a slightly more complicated version of the game called Master Detective, which had more possible suspects, weapons, and rooms and included a couple extra features, and that has pretty much always been my favorite board game. What I particularly loved about it, especially as a child who never had much hope of beating my parents at games that required any skill, was that it was fun regardless of who the winner ended up being. I just liked seeing how close I could get to the solution before someone else inevitably solved it. I remember my parents mentioning that there was a movie version of Clue that had three different endings, and that they had seen Ending B in a theater, which confused and intrigued me.
The first time I ever watched this movie was when it happened to come on TV when I was visiting my grandparents. I think I was around 10 years old, and I actually thought it was kind of scary. Watching seven murders take place in a creepy old house was a bit much for me. But even then, there was something about it that grabbed me. The characters were all kind of despicable, and yet I liked them. I wanted to see more from them. So we started renting this movie from our local Hollywood Video, over and over again, and eventually we bought it on VHS and later on DVD. Once I got over my initial fright and started appreciating it as a brilliant comedy, I could not get enough of this movie. I can’t even begin to guess how many times I watched Clue before I started tracking my views in 2003, but I know it was a lot because every moment of the movie was already committed to my memory. If I was ever bored, I could close my eyes and play the film for myself with the projector of my mind. I wrote out the entire script so I could count how many words each character spoke. I used toys to act out the entire movie, along with the only person I knew who was more obsessed with Clue than I was: my brother, who was also fascinated by these characters and their antics, although as a preschooler he certainly did not fully understand the plot. But that was fine because ultimately, this movie’s appeal is not its plot, which is basically nonsense; it’s the ensemble. And it was so great having somebody close to me who understood that the same way I did. I think the rest of our family liked this movie too, but they definitely ended up watching it way more than they would have without my brother’s and my insistence.
My need to rewatch this movie was already beginning to wear off before I started keeping track, since the whole thing already lived rent-free in my brain, but even so, I watched it six times in 2003, four times in 2004, once in 2005, three times in 2006, twice in 2007, once in 2008, once in 2009, four times in 2010, twice in 2011, once in 2012, three times in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, once in 2016, once in 2017, once in 2018, and once in 2021. I think part of why I’ve been watching it less in recent years is because ever since 2016, when I’ve felt like watching something like this, I’ve tended to watch Poe Party instead of Clue. But that’s not to say that I don’t still absolutely love Clue. I’ve just seen it enough that I don’t need to actually sit down in front of a screen to experience it.
One thing that I learned relatively recently that explains a lot is that apparently, Jonathan Lynn screened the movie His Girl Friday for the cast of Clue to demonstrate the feel he wanted for this movie. Even though Clue was made in the 1980s, it takes place in the 1950s, and was intentionally mimicking the style of fast-talking screwball comedies from the 1930s and ‘40s. So while I still consider watching Singin’ in the Rain in 2002 my proper introduction to Old Hollywood, falling in love with Clue a couple years earlier really prepared me to fall in love with old movies. Characters who look glamorous and sophisticated but are actually goofballs getting involved in ridiculous situations is my jam, and Clue takes what classic screwballs did with that to a whole new level. The script brilliantly combined several different types of both old-fashioned and updated comedy, and the perfect cast brought it to life in the best possible way. I don’t know if the His Girl Friday screening had any real impact, but regardless, every member of the cast fully understood the assignment and absolutely crushed it. A big part of what makes this movie so rewatchable is that everybody is so on all of the time that it’s fun to focus on what they’re doing in the background. Martin Mull is an amazing confidently clueless Colonel Mustard. Lesley Ann Warren gives Miss Scarlet just the right amount of sass. Christopher Lloyd makes Professor Plum sleazy enough that we get the picture without it ever getting too uncomfortable. Eileen Brennan nails Mrs. Peacock’s barely-holding-it-together-but-can-still-judge-you temperament. Mr. Green is accident prone which means he brings in the physical comedy, and Michael McKean fully commits to it. Of the main characters, Mrs. White has the fewest lines, but Madeline Kahn makes her presence known, doing absolutely everything possible with what she’s given, and improvising one of the greatest, funniest speeches in movie history. Jonathan Lynn discouraged improvisation on the set in general, but Kahn going on and on about the flames on the side of her face was too hilarious not to include. This devotion to delivering the lines exactly as written meant that Tim Curry as the butler Wadsworth, who ultimately figures out what happened and explains the whole thing, had to basically memorize a dictionary, and he killed it and I love him for it. When I was younger, I used to think I had a crush on Wadsworth, but I eventually came to realize that I just wanted to be Wadsworth, with the confidence to solve a puzzle and the eloquence to explain the solution in a highly entertaining, if long-winded, way.
The supporting cast is also excellent, and I wish that we could have seen more from them. Lee Ving’s name alone made him the perfect murder victim, but I also love the way he plays Mr. Boddy as sort of a cool mobster type of guy. Colleen Camp as the voluptuous, scantily clad maid Yvette is almost a throwaway joke of a character, but Camp manages to make her seem like a real person, or as real as any of these other ridiculous characters anyway. When I took French in high school and we all had to pick a French name, I chose Yvette because of this movie, even though I never even remotely identified with this character. Bill Henderson as the cop is an excellent straight man for the shenanigans with the bodies, which is either one of the funniest or most disturbing parts of the film, depending on how you look at it. Jeffrey Kramer, Kellye Nakahara, and Jane Wiedlin barely had anything to do, but they made their brief moments as memorable as possible. Basically, as fun as the script is, this movie would not have worked without an incredible cast, and thankfully, it has that. In some ways I wish the actors had been allowed to play around a bit more because then maybe we could have gotten other moments as epic as the flames speech, but at the same time, I feel like the pressure to say everything exactly as written in long takes added to the stress the characters were meant to be feeling. And the script is full of great jokes and excellent banter; it’s just that since the mystery aspect doesn’t really track anyway, I feel like the director could have let the actors have more fun with it.
I understand that they were trying to use the multiple endings to represent how the game is different every time, and also as a bit of a publicity stunt, but it kind of backfired. Theater-going audiences found it confusing, and the movie initially flopped. Thankfully with the home video version that included all three endings, Clue eventually did gain the cult following it deserves. But the problem is, in trying to accommodate three different solutions, the mystery gets lost in the middle, and none of the endings actually track. Yvette’s death is the part that makes the least sense – we clearly see that Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. White were both elsewhere seconds beforehand, so endings B and C don’t work, and in ending A Yvette was working with the killer so what she says right before she is killed doesn’t make any sense. For all of Wadsworth’s explanations, each ending leaves many unanswered questions, and they kind of draw attention to this in two of the endings, with one character saying, “There’s still one thing I don’t understand” and somebody else interjecting, “ONE thing?” Clearly this was meant to be a comedy rather than a serious murder mystery, but I do feel like if they weren’t trying to be so gimmicky, they could have made the mystery part work too (see Poe Party). Although in some ways, I kind of love that Clue doesn’t make sense. It feels perfectly consistent to have these characters who are pretending to be serious and dignified when they’re really all very silly people get caught up in a murder mystery with three endings that don’t work. When I point out Clue’s plot holes, it’s more like gently ribbing a friend than cinematic critique. I have to analyze the flaws in the story because of who I am as an overthinker, but I don’t think the flaws make it bad; if anything, they increase my enjoyment of the movie. It’s like a game: spot all the inconsistencies, and then realize that none of them matter. Because ultimately, fans of this movie aren’t here for the story; we’re here for the cast and the vibes. I don’t really know how to describe it, but while there are certainly other fun mystery-parody-type comedies out there, none of the others I’ve seen has quite the same tone as Clue, and that’s another reason I keep rewatching it.
And from an aroace perspective, Clue is great because there really is no love story. I mean, people mention spouses and affairs, and jealousy is floated as a possible motive for murder, but none of the characters that we see fall in love with each other during the course of the movie. Professor Plum does hit on Miss Scarlet a bit, but her reaction is very, “What the hell is wrong with you? We have way more important things to worry about right now.” When the cop shows up, in order to prevent him from finding out about the murders, some of the characters pretend to be making out with the bodies as if they’re alive, which is very weird on many levels, but it’s kind of a great illustration of the ridiculousness of allonormativity. If the cop had looked twice at them he would have noticed something was off, but of course adults at a party are going to be making out, nothing to see here, moving on. I always thought this part was hilarious when I was younger, and now that I understand my identity better I can articulate my appreciation for the way this movie portrays people who are focused on romance as the weird ones. Obviously that’s specific to this situation – like, I think most alloromantic people would agree that being locked in a murder house is not the best time to pursue romance. But aromantic stories are so rare that I’ll take whatever I can find. When Clue mentions sex, it’s usually either as a punchline (“Life after death is as improbable as sex after marriage”) or part of a motive, since most of the blackmail victims are being blackmailed for something to do with sex. The sexual content is mostly in the background, adding to the vibes without pulling too much focus, kind of like some of my favorite classic films noirs. And this whole movie is so silly that I don’t feel like the sexiness is really meant to be taken seriously. Asking how an asexual person could possibly enjoy a film filled with so many blatantly allosexual characters would be just as ridiculous as asking how a person who had never killed anyone could possibly enjoy a film filled with so much murder. These characters clearly weren’t meant to be too relatable. But I still appreciate getting to see them on an evening when they’re at least mostly focused on things besides romance and sex.
I know I keep going on about how this movie is just silly fun, but one aspect that I do think was meant to be taken kind of seriously is the satirical criticism of McCarthyism. The exaggeratedly horrified gasps in response to Wadsworth's revelation that his wife had friends who were socialists is funny, but also, people’s lives were legitimately ruined because of that attitude. The only line that all three endings have in common is “Communism is just a red herring,” which is relevant to the movie because characters were trying to tie the murders into Cold War-related motives that ended up being irrelevant, but also kind of describes how trying to stop communism was used as an excuse for atrocities that didn’t always have much if anything to do with communism. It’s a little odd to stick that message in this movie, and I don’t exactly know why it’s there, but I like the way it adds to the Old Hollywood connection. Filmmakers in the 1950s had to be very careful about the messages they put in their movies, and what they said outside of their movies, for fear of being blacklisted as suspected communists, so it seems fitting that this movie set in the 1950s would be calling that out. Although there were very much still Cold War tensions in the 1980s as well, which is perhaps why this message is all but buried in silliness. And maybe I’m wrong and this aspect was meant to be silly as well, but it feels rather pointed to me, so I wanted to bring it up as one of the many fascinating aspects of this film.
I truly believe that Clue is a great movie that has something for everyone, and highly recommend it to anyone listening who hasn’t seen it, but at the same time, I am incapable of separating the movie from my own nostalgia. I can’t imagine what I would think of this movie if I watched it today for the first time because I would be a fundamentally different person if I hadn’t seen Clue a zillion times when I was young. Not only did it inform my taste in movies going forward, but it also shaped my understanding of the world, in a way. I think like most children, I once assumed adults knew what they were doing, but this movie showed me a bunch of adults who didn’t have the slightest idea, which was simultaneously terrifying and comforting. It also changed the way I talked, because I used to quote this movie constantly. I do it less now, but there was a time when instead of “I wasn’t talking to you” I would always say, “I was asking Miss Scarlet!” Or when somebody was looking for a key, I’d go, “Never mind about the key; unlock the door!” If anybody said, “Maybe…” with a long pause, I’d have to follow it with “Mr. Boddy killed the cook!” And similarly, “Oh who cares?” always had to be followed by, “That guy doesn’t matter! Let him stay locked up for another half an hour! The police will be here by then, and there are TWO DEAD BODIES IN THE STUDY!!!” And if anyone got confused about numbers, I’d helpfully chime in, “Even if you were right, that would be one plus one plus two plus one, not one plus two plus one plus one.” I could go on, but I’d end up quoting the whole movie, because I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to work every single line into a non-Clue-related conversation at least once. Often people just stare at me blankly, but it’s fun quoting it to my siblings because they usually respond with the next line, and we can go through whole scenes if nobody stops us. I have so many fun memories of reciting and analyzing this movie with them, arguing about things like whether Mr. Boddy says, “It’s only glass” or “It’s hunky glass” about the conservatory wall – it’s definitely “only” but my sister will not be convinced. Memories of my little brother adorably misunderstanding lines, thinking that Mrs. White’s husband had a “big fair” with Yvette, or that Mrs. Peacock said, “Oh I got a horse!” instead of “Oh my god of course!” or that blackmail was what those dark brown UPS trucks delivered. At one point, I wrote a script for Master Detective, which had the same basic premise as Clue – a bunch of blackmail victims congregated in a house to confront their blackmailer and his accomplices – but made even less sense. I didn’t back it up so it disappeared when that computer died, thankfully, but I still remember enough of it to cringe about. Since all the suspects had color names, I decided all the murder victims needed themed names as well, so I named them all after body parts to go with Mr. Boddy and thought I was so clever. I don’t remember most of them anymore, but I know there was a Mr. Elbow and a Mrs. Toenail. I also remember at one point I wrote in the directions something like, “It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In fact, Miss Peach drops a pin” and again was delighted by my own cleverness. My brother and I used to act it out with toys, and one time, after the dead body of the butler had been thrown out the window for some reason right before somebody else was arriving, my brother was being silly and had the new person pick up the dead body and say, “I brought your butler back!” seemingly without realizing that the butler was dead, and I thought that was so hilarious that I added it into the script, and it’s still my favorite part that I remember. It was a bad script, but in my defense I was very young, and anyway my point is, Clue inspired me to be creative in a fun way, without worrying about taking my work or myself too seriously, which is the attitude I’ve tried to take into making this podcast.
I feel like there is so much more I could say about Clue, but it’s hard to find words to adequately express how deeply I love this film. It feels wrong to call this a “comfort movie” when there are so many murders in it, but somehow it does feel comforting. It’s like an old friend, whose jokes I’ve heard a hundred times but still make me laugh, whom I love in spite of, and in some ways because of, their flaws. I know not everybody is into movies the way I am, but I think everybody needs at least one story or piece of art that they feel that way about. Not that experiencing art is a substitute for real friendship, but art is a form of human expression and connection that I think we all need in addition to relationships. And yes, I consider Clue to be a work of art. It’s a frickin masterpiece.
Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. I fear these episodes are becoming less coherent as I get into my top films that I can’t even with, but I hope they’re still enjoyable. Next up will be my second most rewatched movie, which I have seen 37 times in its entirety even though it is by far the longest movie in my entire top 40. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Shelves in the closet. Happy thought indeed.”
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kiayalacy · 1 year ago
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A Superman Creator, a Racy Comic, and a Murder Trial... Oh My!
Did you know that Superman co-creator Joe Shuster was connected to an infamous murder trial in Brooklyn in 1954? Now you're probably thinking I'm making all this up, but I swear to the big blue boy scout himself that this is completely true. In 1954, Shuster, with rapidly deteriorating sight and financial problems, agreed to anonymously illustrate a series of comic booklets titled "Nights of Horror." Nights of Horror wasn't anything like Superman; it was an adult comic book, if you get what I'm saying. It was pretty much 50 Shades of Gray in comic form. Fast forward to that summer, when four teenage boys murdered two men and committed assault and torture against several others in Brooklyn. They were given the name the Brooklyn Thrill Killers by the media because it seemed like they had only done these crimes for the thrill. Now you're probably wondering how these two things come together. Well, the answer to that question is psychiatrist Dr. Fredrick Wertham, who was brought in to see if Jack Koslow (the leader of the boys) was legally insane or fit to stand trial. The good doctor was intrigued by the teen and continued to study him even after deeming him sane. During his sessions with the doctor, Koslow mentioned he was "addicted" to horror comics. Now one thing you need to know about Dr. Williams is that he hated comics; he even wrote papers about them, so this piqued his interest. After that, Dr. Whitham brought the teen the Nights of Horror comics and asked him if that's what he read. Koslow looked through them briefly and said, “That’s it. Only I have a better  edition."He also told Wertham that he and the other boys had their victims do something that was shown in the comics; rather, he said that after being shown the comics or not, it was not said. So with all of that, the good doctor came to the conclusion that Nights of Horror and other horror comics caused the boy to do these things, even stating that "it is hardly something that a boy would do spontaneously—that is, without getting the idea from somewhere." Now there are some things that make the good doctor’s theory a bit questionable. First of all, there was no evidence that Koslow actually bought or read the books; no witnesses were ever brought forth stating that they had sold the comics to the boy. Secondly, not only did it come out that Koslow was obsessed with a certain crazy Austrian (H!tl3r), but at just 7 years old, he was found to be "aggressive and subject to fantasies of killings." Strangely enough, on top of all of this, he had an IQ of 135. So the real question here, folks, is: if he did read those comics and wasn’t just playing along with the doctor, did the comics simply make him more creative instead of being the all-out cause of his crimes? You know the old saying: movies don’t make psychos; they just make them more creative. Just 10 days after the murder of Wilard Mentor (their second victim), the boys’ trial ended with only the oldest two boys, Jack Koslow and his main partner in crime, Melvin Mittman, getting charged with felony murder. Now you probably think that's the end of this sorted tale, right? Well, not exactly. A month after the Brooklyn Thrill Killers trial, The Nights of Horror comics were seized and banned in New York City. When the publisher tried to appeal that ruling, it went to the Supreme Court, who in turn completely banned the comics, stating that they were plainly obscene and that it did not go against the Constitution to ban them.
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neverwritewhatyouknow · 2 years ago
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Okay, so I said I had a post related to some comments I received recently on this post, and here it is. Buckle up. (Screenshot of their comments at the bottom)
To start, I’m not going to reveal this person’s name, because I was told that they have committed some previous crimes in real life (related to stalking celebrities, restraining orders, cyberstalking and harassment, etc), as well as being homophobic (along with a bunch of other -phobics) and I don’t want them to come after me in any way that’s unwarranted. I also don’t want to give them an audience of like-minded (antisemitic) people. Apparently this person really, really, really likes obsessively loves one of the actors mentioned in the post and this was their reaction to me saying she is guilty of Jew-face both on Broadway and TV, and shouldn’t play Jewish roles.
These comments were left on my post about how Jewish roles are normally always played by non-Jewish actors, and how that’s a modern and socially “acceptable” form of antisemitism and Jew-erasure. The post with the Patti LuPone pictures.
My response:
First off, you should never tell any Jewish person that they “have problems” when fighting back against antisemitism, Jew-hate, Jew-erasure. Just like, never do that. “That you don’t have any problems apparently.” Jews face discrimination, antisemitism, violence, etc every single day. I personally have experienced antisemitic attacks both irl and online so many times that it’s just something I had to get used to. Isn’t that crazy? I have no problems apparently. Apparently by house wasn’t targeted and carved with a cross. Apparently it wasn’t nearly burnt down. Apparently I haven’t had coins thrown at me. Apparently I’ve never been spit on or punched in the face by strangers. Yup, no problems here.
Moving on. Yes, there are many successful Jewish actors working, no debate there. I could add on a few more. But that doesn’t change that non-Jews cannot play a Jewish role. That’s the same as saying “There are numerous Hispanic actors in the world! Who cares if we cast some 100% polish actor as a Mexican character once in a while!” That’s literally not a valid argument at all. You can’t just decide when a minority ethnicity gets to be represented or not. Who gets to be whitewashed or not.
The big deal is that Jewish people are an ethnic and religious minority. We’ve been slaughtered for literally centuries and beyond. There’s like 2 of us. And I repeat, an ethnic minority. You cannot play an ethnicity you don’t belong to. You cannot play a Jewish character anymore than a white girl from Kansas can play a Black girl from Nigeria. You can play stereotypes of said ethnicities, or races, or backgrounds, but that’s playing into a stereotype which always ends up more racist and discriminatory than anything else. You cannot play Jewish if you’re not. You can play the Judaism, you can play harmful tropes like “banker” or “lawyer” or talk in Yiddish, but you can’t be a Jewish character if you’re not Jewish. You can be a stereotype, which is just harmful. ***note: as always any statement I make about “ethnic” Jews includes converts, as they are seen as joining the tribe and thereby become ethnically Jewish as well, since their kids would also be ethnically Jewish.***
Jews play non-Jews? Hell yeah we do. Playing a nun in the Sound of Music was really fun when I was a kid at summer camp. Here’s the difference, Christians aren’t a minority. They aren’t globally and historically oppressed to the same degree as other minorities. I’m pretty sure this is what the poster means by Jews playing non-Jewish roles. But, take a look at the four million Hallmark Christmas movies a year and tell me how many of those actors are Jewish. Jews so very rarely (if ever) play any role that is explicitly written as non-Jewish, like a priest, or a religious person, or even just a woman who wears a cross but isn’t religious at all. But a lot of non-Jews play roles that are written explicitly as Jewish. Jewish does not mean religious, this is something I think many people don’t understand. I am Jewish, I am not religious. Many Jews aren’t religious, but I’m super Jewish. Jewish characters may not be religious at all, but they’re still Jewish and still need to be played by someone of that group.
Christians have no need to complain. Because 1. Everything I said before, 2. You don’t face majority discrimination, 3. You’re a religion, not an ethnicity.
You can play a religion. You can’t play an ethnicity. You can play stereotypes. You can’t play an ethnicity or a race.
Finding the best actor for a minority role… Call me crazy, but when looking for the best actor to play a minority, one would think the best actor would be a member of said minority.
“We’re trying to cast this Michelle Obama biopic. We have these three great actors, we need to find the best one!”
“Who have we got?”
“1. Demi Lovato 2. Reese Witherspoon 3. Angela Bassett.”
“Huh, well, Reese had the best audition, her pant suit was spot on. Angela was amazing, but the best actor for the job is Reese!”
Do you see how that doesn’t work? Maybe all the actors were great, they had amazing auditions, but sometimes you have to look at who the character is! Casting a white woman as Michelle Obama is legitimately insane. It’s just insane. When a character is explicitly written as a minority, you have to take that into account. The best actor for the job is someone of that minority. There are sooooooo many talented Jewish actors out there, saying that they’d cast someone simply because “they’re a Jew but therefore can’t act or doesn’t fit the role” is crazy. Obviously don’t hire someone who can’t act, but if you’re in that room auditioning, you can act. You wouldn’t be there if you couldn’t. And like… Jews can act. It’s not a one or the other, “Jewish” or “talented” there’s literally the overlap of “Jewish and talented” that I feel like is really being overlooked here. I feel crazy for having to explain that. Sounds crazy, right?
“Travel back to the 30’s, or 40’s where it was really an issue!” This poster just told me to go die in the Holocaust. I don’t have to explain why that’s bad, right? We’re all in agreement on this one, right? Don’t do this. This is a thing that’s like… very very very bad. But just in case their antisemitism wasn’t showing enough earlier, here it is all laid out nice and clear.
Moral of the post: If a Jew says something is antisemitic, believe them. We know more than you about this, because we live it every day. Jews and other minorities can play whatever Christian role they want because they are not a global or American minority ethnicity and religion. PLUS, you can play a religion, but you cannot play an ethnicity. (Should I make a post detailing more about “playing” religion and stereotypes? Let me know). Plus, again, very very very few roles are ever explicitly Christian, most roles are open for whatever ethnicity works best, but some roles are explicit in their ethnicity/race/background and that needs to be looked at when finding the “best” actor. Some successful Jewish actors does not mean you can erase Jews from other places. Just like how having many successful Black, or Asian, or Hispanic, or Indigenous actors does not mean you can just decide there’s been enough and you want a random person who’s not of said group to play a role belonging to said group.
Did I cover everything? As always, leave questions below and I’ll answer what I can. DMs are always open (if I don’t see the message, it’s because I get a lot of hate stuff and only check when I feel mentally and emotionally strong enough, but I do check it once in a while).
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atlasheartd · 17 days ago
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background (p1)
((part 2, part 3, part 4))
pre-Iron Man
cw/tw: child abandonment, abuse, bullying, homophobia
age(s): 0 to 10
Paige was born out of a one-night stand between Maya Hansen and Tony Stark, although for several years, Maya raised her alone. Although she was kept busy with Extremis, Maya did love Paige dearly, and spent as much time with her as she could. She doted over her daughter constantly, encouraging her with whatever managed to capture Paige's attention, and talked to her about her work as simply as she could. Maya knew Paige couldn't understand a single word she said, but it was clear it got her daughter's attention, and it was a great distraction whenever Paige was upset.
When she was three, Paige began to sing along to whatever music she was listening to, either from cassette tapes, TV shows, or movies. The more she did it, the more she started singing without prompt as well, and it got to the point where Maya started calling her “her little songbird”. Overall, Paige was happy - she loved her mother, although Maya was concerned she may be overly attached, and was generally a happy-go-lucky kid.
However, when Paige was four, Maya's work with Extremis grew more demanding, and Maya spent longer and longer away from home. It reached the point she began to worry for Paige's safety, as her daughter was too young to understand what was going on, or to be left alone or in the care of someone else for too long. But Maya was obsessed, and in the end, Extremis won out. She told her daughter that everything was going to be alright, and that she was going to meet her father, and he would love her just as much as she did. Paige didn't understand what was happening, but she was happy to spend more time with her mother again, and was even more excited when Maya told her they were going on a trip. Paige had never flown before, and although it scared her at first, she quickly grew to enjoy it. Unaware of just how sad her mother was.
Tony didn't learn about Paige's existence until Maya showed up on his doorstep with Paige at her side. She told him she needed him to take care of their daughter, as something had come up that she needed to focus on. Paige hid behind her as they talked, unsure what to make of Tony and a house that was way bigger than her own, and when Maya turned to leave - she tried to follow after her. Both Maya and a reluctant Tony stopped her, and Maya promised her they would see each other again. She told her she loved her, asked her to keep being her little songbird, but told her it was for the best before she left. Paige cried for her to come back. She screamed and wailed for her not to leave. Tony tried to comfort her, but Paige would hear none of it - scared and confused, and just wanting to go home with her mom. It was a hard and jarring change for both of them, and they both struggled to adjust to their lives being flipped upside down.
Once Paige was legally his, Tony changed her surname to Stark, and gave her the middle name Carter - naming her after Peggy Carter, who had been one of the more positive influences in his life growing up. He was careful to keep Paige a secret from the rest of the world, and did everything he could to try and help her. He tried to get to know his daughter and to bond with her, but for a few months, Paige refused each attempt. She was still scared, still uncertain, and still held out onto the hope that Maya would come back for her. She asked for her constantly, and asked when she would take her back home. She asked where she was and why she left, although Tony struggled to come up with an answer that was appropriate and understandable. Even after Paige finally warmed up to her father and even after she started calling him dad, she continued to ask about her mother. And she continued to ask until, one day, she asked Obadiah while he was watching her. He snapped at her, telling her to knock it off because her mother didn't want her anymore, and that she was being obnoxious for not letting it go.
Although Paige didn't quite understand, she stopped asking after that. She never told Tony what happened, afraid she'd only bother him too, and began to grow quiet. She kept to herself more and more, and began to grow terrified that... Tony would stop wanting her one day and leave her, just like Maya did. That she'd be alone.
School did little to help once she was old enough to attend. Even as a toddler, Paige had proven herself to be incredibly bright, but she began to struggle as she grew older, and her classes became more complicated. She had a hard time wrapping her head around certain subjects, and had a hard time remembering to complete her homework - let alone even do it. While she excelled in some of her classes, she fell behind in others, and was the source of exasperation and frustration for some of her teachers. They knew she was smart, but a few felt she simply didn't care and was lazy, even though she genuinely couldn't keep up. Yet, despite being scolded and called out in class, and even her teachers explaining their views of it to Tony during parent/teacher conferences, Paige couldn't find the words to explain her side of it. She couldn't explain to her teachers or her father or anyone else that she was struggling, or that she was trying. Instead, she opted to say nothing at all. It was safer that way, especially when she realized her teachers no longer seemed to believe her when she tried to insist she was doing her best.
Paige also struggled with her classmates. She had a hard time socializing like they did - she was awkward and had a hard time picking up on social cues that should've been obvious, and was quickly outcasted for being different. She had a few friends here and there, but they were short-lived. And when one of her classmates realized she had a crush on another girl in her science class in fifth grade, she was quickly picked on for being gay. She was an easy target for bullying with how quiet and awkward she was, but when she tried to tell her teachers, nothing changed. Every student was told to report bullying, but when she tried, Paige was dismissed by a few of them - telling her she was overreacting to harmless teasing. A few did try to help, but were either never around to intervene, or unintentionally made things worse by improperly handling the situation, and unintentionally putting Paige in a hard spot. Her classmates resented her for being a tattle-tale, and she stopped trying to get help altogether. She also never told her father, either, because she feared she would be met with the same reaction - that he would dismiss her or grow frustrated with her, and her fear of being left alone outweighed her struggles. She brushed off any bruise or scrape she came home with as a playground accident, and said she was never interested in going to sleepovers or parties whenever she was asked if she had been invited to any. She said she didn't feel like hanging out with her friends if she was asked if she wanted to invite them over instead, and often avoided going to any school dance or other school function with the excuse of not being interested.
Yet, despite her struggles, Paige was pushed ahead a few grades when she finally caught up, and found herself falling behind once more. The bullying got worse with her being around kids a few years older than her, but she remained quiet. She didn't want to bother anyone. She didn't want to lose anyone. She simply folded into herself, and did her best to tuck herself away into the background to avoid trouble. To become invisible.
Instead of hanging out with kids her own age, Paige spent as much time as she could with her father. She was often found down in his workshop with him and watching him work when she wasn't allowed to help, or playing video games nearby to keep herself entertained. She wanted to be near him, even if she kept to herself. To have any sort of company without causing a fuss. Whenever he was busy, she often spent time with Obadiah, who was set to become her legal guardian should anything happen to her father. She never said a word about the way he made her feel uncomfortable and scared. She never understood why she felt that way, because there was no reason for her to. He was family, even if he didn't pay much attention to her, and even though he didn't seem to like her very much. She didn't pick up on the fact he rarely called her by her name, instead referring to her as kiddo more often than not. But he taught her how to play the piano, though she didn't understand his teasing remarks whenever she messed up were far meaner than was warranted. And when Obadiah was busy too, Paige spent time with either Pepper, Rhodey, or Happy. They were nicer to her. Their teasing was more playful and kind than Obadiah's, though Paige never commented on it. She figured she was just overreacting, just like she was with her classmates.
Paige was nine when she met Peggy for the first time, and not long after being awestruck by her, she asked Tony if she could change her name to Carter. She liked her middle name better than her first, and had for a little while, but was scared to ask about it. Tony was hesitant, only because he worried she’d end up regretting her decision later on, and agreed to it on the condition she tried it out first. She eagerly agreed, and for a year, began to go by Carter instead of Paige, and liked it. It felt more fitting, and she seemed happier. At school, however, the change was awkward and wasn't received well by everyone. A few of her classmates increased their bullying, and a few teachers refused to acknowledge her by Carter because her legal name was still Paige, but she stuck with her decision - too stubborn to back down from it. And, when she was ten, her father legally switched her first and middle name around, and by the next school year, it was slowly better received.
-------
Iron Man
cw/tw: kidnapping, abuse, homophobia, bullying, dying, canon character death
age(s): 11 to 12
Carter had stayed with Pepper while her father and Obadiah were in Vegas for an award ceremony, and returned home with Pepper the morning after Tony got back. She never once paid any attention to the fact Pepper had been careful about figuring out Tony's whereabouts in the mansion before she let her go inside to find him, and missed Christine as JARVIS woke her up and Pepper got her out.
She was disappointed when she realized Tony had to leave yet again, but didn't put up a fuss. She knew it was his job to give weapon demonstrations, after all, and was still scared of him leaving her. He would come home, just like he always did, but... this time, he didn't. Obadiah and Pepper sat her down one night and told her Tony was missing. That some bad men had gotten him, and that Rhodey was looking for him, but... Although left unspoken, she realized there was a possibility that her father wasn't going to come home.
Carter's mental health declined rapidly. She became anxious, restless, and scared, and experienced a verbal shutdown - unable to speak for long or much at all. She stopped singing entirely, and stuck close to Obadiah's side as he was now officially her legal guardian. But he had little patience for her, and her constant panicky state was something that grated on him. He snapped at her often, telling her to cut it out and that she needed to get over herself, and on more than one occasion, she heard him muttering to himself about how he couldn't understand why Tony put up with her. It was something that stuck, and something that only worsened her fear of abandonment. Yet, despite it all, she still believed he loved her, because that was what he said. He told her he was worried about her and he just wanted what was best for her, and she believed every word he said because she had no reason not to. And there were plenty of times he was nice to her. He would hug her as she sobbed after waking up from a nightmare, and days he told her he was proud of her for holding on despite everything that was happening. Some days he allowed her to stay home from school without a single word about it, and he would order take-out and work from home to spend time with her as she watched cartoons or played video games. There were days where, after he picked her up from school - sometimes early, sometimes not - he took her out for ice-cream for no reason. He told her he was just scared for Tony, which was why he sometimes got angry with her, and she believed that, too.
Carter did her best to keep her fears to herself so she would behave better and keep Obadiah happy, but it was hard, and her struggles at school worsened. Her grades slipped and she often forgot to complete her assignments - her mind everywhere but where she was trying to keep it. Fortunately, her teachers were understanding for once, as everyone at her school knew what had happened to Tony, and they were more forgiving with missed assignments and did what they could to help her keep up. Not all of her classmates were as kind, however, and she was still bullied. It came to a head when, two months into Tony's disappearance, one of her classmates who was several years her senior, mocked her for it - claiming that her father ran away with some prostitute because he didn't want to deal with the disappointment of raising a gay daughter. Although Carter was used to being the target, she hated it when her father was mentioned in such a way, and she snapped. She lashed out without thinking, and punched her classmate's nose hard enough to break it.
A teacher found them not even a moment after Carter swung, and they were both dragged down to the principal's office. Her classmate played the victim and claimed she had punched them after they tried to comfort her, and they were believed. Carter barely got a word in to defend herself, as her classmate's broken and bloody nose was enough to seal her fate, and she was suspended. Obadiah was called to pick her up, and when he took her home, he lost his temper and berated her. He told her Tony would be disappointed in her and that she was failing them both, and that her behavior was unacceptable. His anger terrified her, and it only made things worse. Her depression grew worse and so did her anxiety, she hid more, and she shut herself away completely to try and keep him happy. When she was allowed back in school, the bullying stopped, but it was obvious no one liked her or wanted to be near her. She saw their stares and heard their whispers, and she felt she deserved it. But she wished they would confront her again, instead of gossiping about her behind her back.
When Tony was found and brought back to the United States, Carter went with Happy and Pepper to meet him at Edwards Air Force Base. She was excited to see him again, but also anxious - scared that it wasn't real, and that something would go wrong. And the moment she saw her father walk down the cargo ramp with Rhodey, she burst into tears. She wanted to run up and hug him, but stayed back when she realized he was hurt, though she refused to leave his side the moment he hugged her instead. Her relief was short-lived, however, and she was visibly scared when Tony requested a press conference as they left the Base to get cheeseburgers, and he assured her he would be home right after, there was just something he needed to do. Carter reluctantly agreed to stay home for the conference, although she grew anxious to the point of getting sick about being alone, and watched as he announced to the world that he was shutting down the weapons division of Stark Industries. His decision stunned her, but she knew that something had pushed him to make such a call, even though she didn't quite understand what was happening. She knew he had changed, and didn't understand why the others didn't recognize that. She didn't understand why Obadiah was angry with her father, or why Rhodey and Pepper seemed frustrated with him as well, and did her best to support Tony instead. She trusted that he knew what he was doing and believed in him, and just wanted to do everything she could to make sure he stayed.
When she wasn't in school, Carter spent as often as she could at Tony's side. She found it terrifying to be away from him, even despite knowing he was home and safe, and she couldn't shake the constant fear that she'd come home and he'd be gone again. His kidnapping had rattled her far more than anyone realized, but she was careful to keep it hidden. Obadiah's abuse had left a mark in her mind that caused her to be critical of herself and encouraged her to protect herself by folding into herself. To distract herself, she helped her father with his Iron Man project whenever he allowed her to, and continued to spend time in his workshop playing video games when she wasn't allowed to help. She tried to ask him what he was planning, if his project was for himself or for Stark Industries, but he never went into too much detail. It bothered her and she knew there was a lot he wasn't telling her, but she kept that to herself. When he asked her to keep it a secret, she promised him she would, and held firm to her promise even when Obadiah began to ask her what was going on. He told her he was only worried about Tony, and that anything she could tell him would help him help her father in turn, but she continued to lie and say she had no idea what her father was doing, even despite how scared she was to lie to Obadiah.
Then, she woke up one day, and Tony was gone.
Carter panicked and called Pepper in tears - practically hysterical as she told her she didn't know where her father was and that she didn't know what to do. Pepper rushed to the mansion and managed to calm her down, and told her that Tony was probably with Rhodey working and forgot to leave a note. Once Carter settled down enough, Pepper stepped away and called Rhodey to see if he knew where Tony was, and Rhodey told her that he was with him. He didn't mention that Tony was in Gulmira. And when Tony finally returned home... Carter refused to see him.
She was scared to see him. She was scared to see him hurt again, scared that something would be different, and scared that he would end up disappearing again. Carter remained in her room, unwilling to come out, even when Pepper tried coaxing her. She promised her that everything was alright and that her father was okay, but Carter still refused. It wasn't until later that Carter finally did come out of her room, and she snuck down to his workshop - unsure if she could see him without breaking down, and unsure if she even wanted to see him. She didn't want to bother him with how she felt or make him angry like she did with Obadiah, but she needed to know he was still there. But, when she crept down the steps, she overheard Tony and Pepper talking, and...
“There is the next mission, and nothing else.”
Those words rang clear in Carter's head, and she retreated back to her room before either Tony or Pepper saw her. It hurt her to hear him say that, and made her feel she wasn't important. She felt he hadn't thought about her when he left or even realized she was still there, or that she needed him, too. She was terrified that Tony would leave her just like Maya had, and began to believe that Obadiah had been right - that she wasn't wanted. She knew her father had changed, but she didn't understand what was happening then.
Later that night, Carter finally got the courage to try and see her father again, but realized the house was eerily quiet. She knew something wasn't right and quietly made her way downstairs, only to see Obadiah pull Tony's reactor right out of his chest. She froze and barely heard him as he told her father that his reactor would be the heart of every new weapon made by Stark Industries, and something finally clicked. She panicked, but instead of hiding, she tried to attack Obadiah - screaming at him to give the reactor back and that her father would die without it. But her attempts were futile, and Obadiah overpowered her, and used the sonic taser on her like he had on Tony. She was paralyzed by it, and could do nothing as Obadiah packed the reactor into his briefcase, and left the mansion with both it and her. He couldn't leave her there, he knew, because she could get help once the paralysis wore off, and he couldn't risk that. He scolded her as he drove them to Stark Industries and blamed her for the situation, and told her he didn't want to kill her, but she left him no choice.
The paralysis wore off once they reached Stark Industries, but Obadiah used the sonic taser on her again to prevent her from escaping. He left her slumped against the desk on the floor of Sector 16, directly across from the Iron Monger suit, and she watched in terror as he inserted her father's reactor into it. She remained frozen even as the paralysis wore off yet again, but when Obadiah was distracted by the sound of what seemed to be a small explosion outside the Sector, she bolted and ducked behind chains and various pieces of equipment to hide. She remained hidden even as things went silent, and nearly ran when Coulson stumbled upon her. He called out to Pepper that he found her, and reassured Carter that she was safe. However, as he led her toward the exit, Pepper came across Obadiah, now in the Iron Monger suit, and all hell broke lose. Obadiah knocked out a generator that caused several explosions through the Sector, and Carter was caught in the crossfire as she tried to hide. She was hit with shrapnel but failed to realize it, and ran outside with Coulson once he was able to find her again.
Carter was hysterical as she shook and sobbed - unable to explain what had happened. When she tried to speak to Pepper and Coulson, her words were jumbled and stuttered, but she managed to get out that Obadiah had killed Tony, not realizing that her father was the one fighting Obadiah. Pepper did her best to try and calm her down and told her Tony was still alive, but when Tony and Obadiah took to the sky, Carter screamed for her father to come back. She fell into Pepper as she continued to panic, but Coulson had to hold her back when Pepper went into the factory to overload the reactor.
It wasn't until Carter was reunited with her father that she began to settle back down, and when she was taken to the hospital to have her wounds treated, it was discovered she suffered from severe sensorineural hearing loss in her left ear from the sonic taser. She was assured she could hear with the help of a hearing aid, and that the injuries on her back and hands would heal without invasive treatment, although the doctors warned they would scar. She unintentionally made the healing process worse, however, as she developed an anxious habit of picking and scratching at whatever wounds she could reach, and struggled to adjust to her hearing aid and hearing loss. She began to attend therapy not long after that night as well, and was diagnosed with C-PTSD, depression, anxiety, and separation anxiety - later being diagnosed with ADHD as well. She was prescribed several medications to help, and her therapist helped her find different ways to help her cope and recover - leading her to get into different artistic outlets. She began to sing again and picked up playing the guitar and violin, but refused to touch another piano. She began to draw as well, and began to ASL to help with her hearing loss. And with her being in no shape to go to school, either physically or mentally, she stayed at home, and was privately tutored for the rest of the school year so she wouldn’t fall behind.
-------
Iron Man 2
cw/tw: panic attacks, dying
age(s): 12
Despite her progress, Carter's mental health dipped when she began to notice her father's increasingly erratic behavior. It was obvious to her that he was far more reckless than he had been, though she didn't understand why Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy brushed it off as Tony being Tony. She didn't know how to explain that it wasn't him like they were suggesting, but she was also unaware that she had been sheltered from her father's usual, reckless behavior beforehand. She wanted to help her father as well, but couldn't figure out how. She stayed close to him whenever she could, something that was easier with her being homeschooled, and she realized that there was something he wasn't telling her again. She tried to ask him about it, but Tony brushed her off and assured her everything was fine. She stopped asking because she was still afraid he would leave her, and afraid if she pushed too much, he'd get angry.
Carter had gotten sick when Tony opened the Stark Expo in New York, so she was forced to stay behind in California. It not only bothered her because it meant she was separated from him again, but because she genuinely wanted to go. Tony promised her he would bring her a souvenir (which he did), and promised he would take her another time since it was open year-round. She accepted his promises, although it was still a hard pill for her to swallow, and even with her expressing her fears to her therapist, she couldn't get her anxiety to wane. Something that only worsened when she watched her father's senate hearing on TV, even despite it seeming like he had won the case. She was terrified of what would follow, whether from the government or another enemy, and she hoped her father was right in claiming that no one would be able to recreate his tech in ten years.
She had been watching her father and Happy box when Pepper arrived with Natalie Rushman, and, although she was nervous to be around someone she didn't know, she developed a crush on Natalie. It wasn't as subtle as Carter thought, but her shyness around her was dismissed as her simply being nervous. But she was surprised when she learned why Natalie was there in the first place, and felt hurt that her father hadn't told her he had made plans to promote Pepper to CEO of Stark Industries in his place. She said nothing about it, though, and swallowed her worries that something was definitely wrong with him. After all, he still wouldn't answer her questions, and with everyone else believed it was just Tony being Tony, she didn't want to annoy anyone by pushing it.
When Tony, Pepper, and Happy left for Monaco, Carter stayed behind because the event was too publicized. Rhodey stayed with her, and allowed her to stay up late to watch the race with him, but when Tony entered the race himself, Rhodey quickly sent her to bed. Her father's decision had started to cause her to panic, but Rhodey promised her it was safe and Tony would be fine. She was reluctant, but went to bed anyway. The next morning, she discovered what had happened - that a man named Vanko had walked out onto the track and wreaked havoc, and while her father was able to stop him, it was discovered that Vanko had a reactor similar to Tony's. He had the very technology that her father had claimed no one would have for another ten years, and she was terrified.
She stuck to her father's side once he returned from Monaco, and tried to argue with him to let her stay despite his party. She promised she'd stay out of the way and that he wouldn't even know she was there, but Tony promised her he was fine and it was just for the night. Carter backed down after that to keep the peace, and reluctantly left to sleep over at Pepper's home, even despite Pepper having left to attend her father's party. But she hated being alone, and suffered a panic attack before she broke down in tears - something she never told Pepper about when Pepper came back. It wasn't until the next morning that Carter learned what happened during the party, and it was only after she finally convinced Pepper to let her go home. She returned to the mansion to find it partially destroyed, and she quickly found her father after she passed Fury by. She was terrified though did her best to hide it, and found him with Couslon and Natalie, who turned out to be a SHIELD agent undercover. Tony gave her a brief explanation as to what happened, though he glossed over most details about his fight with Rhodey, and his answer was vague when she asked him why SHIELD was there. It frustrated her almost as much as it scared her, but she was overwhelmed with everything that had happened in such a short amount of time, and she snapped at her father. She told him she wasn't stupid and she knew something was wrong, and that she was scared. Yet, Tony continued to insist it was something she didn't need to worry about, and promised her he would make things right. That there was just a little snafu he needed to take care of, and everything would work out. She didn't believe him.
Although still overwhelmed and upset, Carter dropped it and helped Tony sort through his father's belongings that SHIELD had dropped off. She didn't know what he was looking for, but she needed to be around him. She began to hope he might open up to her, too, and her hope only grew when she watched Howard's reel. But her hope was dissolved when her father told her he needed to go do something, and promised her he would return as soon as he could when she tried to beg him to stay. Carter stayed behind as Tony left for his office, and Coulson later found her alone in the workshop playing video games in an attempt to distract herself from her panic. He asked her where Tony had gone to, but she told him she had no idea - just that there was something he needed to do. She tried to ask Coulson what was really going on, but she didn't get a response from him, either. When he left, she had another panic attack, and JARVIS did its best to help calm her back down.
When Tony returned home with an old model of the Stark Expo Howard had put together, Carter told him nothing of what happened, and quietly hung back as he examined a scan of it. She remained quiet even as he finally told her he was trying to rediscover an element his father had discovered years go, but didn't explain why and she didn't try to ask. She seemed to perk up a little as her father finally did rediscover the element he was looking for, and was briefly excited when he allowed her to "hold" the hologram of it. She helped him to an extent as he switched his workshop into hardware mode, though was sent upstairs when he felt it was too dangerous for her to continue to help. She didn't try to argue with him, and once the new element was created and set into a new reactor, he allowed her back down. Carter's earlier excitement was gone the moment she saw the new reactor, and it clicked in her mind that, whatever was going on, had something to do with the very thing keeping him alive. She couldn't ask him what was going on, far too afraid of the answer she could get, and refused to speak at all even as JARVIS began to test the new reactor.
The severity of the situation hit Carter once Vanko called Tony. She remained silent as she listened to them talk, and felt her heart drop like a stone when Vanko returned the remark of "you sound pretty sprightly for a dead guy" to her father. She felt numb when she realized what she had been too afraid to acknowledge, and couldn't look at Tony even when the call ended. Her father was dying, and the very thing that was supposed to be keeping him alive was killing him.
She didn't try to stop him when he told her he needed to go to New York. She understood he needed to stop Vanko, but she also struggled to make sense of everything that had come crashing down. She was terrified she would lose her father for good despite everything, and begged him to come home. When he left, Carter spent the next few hours pacing the mansion as she waited to hear from him, and struggled with her panic. JARVIS refused to let her watch the news as it covered the destruction of the Expo, and when Tony later called to tell her he was still alive and his reactor was doing just fine, Carter finally burst into tears and broke down.
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echantedtoon · 6 months ago
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Let's Summon A Yokai!
Demon Goemon Ishikawa the 13th x reader Oneshot. That's it.
(warning for demon summoning if that makes you uncomfortable. I just made up some stuff for this based off video games where that happened hope that's ok.)
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"Let's summon a demon!"
A thunderstorm rolled across the sky that night. The sun was just setting over the horizon with the last few rays of daylight disappearing but it was hard to tell when the dark storm clouds took over the sky and claimed them as their own. Thunder shaking the lanes of the windows and lightning sounded off like an angry whip from whatever deity was angrily stomping around the clouded skies, lighting up the sky and city below for nothing but a brief second.
It would've been absolutely dark if you hadn't lit up a few candles inside the comfy room and placed them on the table to light up the room. The warm light comforting against the scary night sky that just appeared as the last few daylights were chased away. The candlelight was pretty but you might be asking yourself one question. Why are you using candles to light up the room when you can just turn on the light switch on the wall or use a flashlight like a normal person?
Well because it wasn't your idea. It was your friend's.
If it were up to you, your bedroom light would've been on in an instant and you four wouldn't be sitting here in the dark. But as another thunder clap shook the sky outside, her face had scrunched up into a mischievous grin wide enough to let the other three ladies around her know that she had come up with a devious idea. It started when of your friends said that they were bored during the usual sleep over activities and so you suggested watching a scary movie instead!
"How about The Death Book?"
"What's it about?"
"It's about this girl who finds this blank diary and everything she writes in it becomes true! It turns out the diary is possessed by a demon who becomes obsessed with her and grants her wishes with horrible twists!"
That's when your most devious friend gotten that look before hijacking the convo. "I have a better idea! Y/n, you have any candles?"
"Only scented candles. Why?"
"That'll work! Go get them all and we'll do something that's actually thrilling!"
You had no idea what she was talking about but decided to humor her and go get them and matches she asked for. You had a few scented candles collecting up space in your closet, most were Christmas gifts you were just planning on regifting that year anyways since you never really used them. But you were curious about what your friend was up too so you grabbed up all the bars, the different scents making your nose snort, and brought them out to everyone watching you take them out of your closet and plopping them down on your bed. Your friend then proceeded to grab a glass jar containing a 'holiday sugar cookie' scented white candle, lit it, and then got up to turn off the lights and ask you to close the curtains.
Oh! She wanted to do the classic ghost story telling in the dark game! Nope. As soon as you turned around and you along with your other two friends looked at her, the statement left her mouth.
"Let's summon a demon!"
The three of you stared at her and her smile lit up by the scented candle, a nice scent of sugar cookies in the air. The only sounds being the thunder still rumbling outside. Eventually one of you broke the weird silence.
"You mean like...Use a ouija board? That's something everyone does at sleepovers-"
"No! I meant actually summon a demon!," she corrected excitedly clenching a fist!
"Uh..Have you lost your dam mind?"
"Oh come on! We all know that ghosts and stuff don't exist anyways!" She waved a hand dismissively. "We've tried using a ouija board since we were ten but nothing ever happened so why not try taking it up a notch!"
"Because it sounds like a waste of time." You deadpanned raising a brow. "Why go through all the effort to do something when we already KNOW that it's just stupid Hollywood stuff?"
"For the thrill of it!" You three looked at each other. Two of you having bored looks while the third looked worried. "Come on! Just this once! And if nothing happens I'll pay for two pizzas from that pizza place we all like!"
"...Throw in those chicken tenders and a couple sodas and you have a deal," your bored friend bluntly stated.
"DEAL!"
"I don't know.." Your friend that looked worried frowned. "This is how a bunch of horror stories start. What if something really happens?"
"PSH. It won't. If nothing happened when we used a ouija board then we got nothing to worry about!"
"And you just magically happen to know how to summon a demon how?"
"Not just a demon!" Her hand pointed up as she grinned. "A Yokai!"
"A yo-..What?"
"A Yokai! Or oni if you prefer to call it that instead! It's a Japanese spirit!"
"We know what that is! And you happen to know that how?"
"During my culture studies at school I was studying the local folklore and stumbled onto an old legend of the area! They say that a monster used to roam the lands and strike down evil people every until a shrine was put up for him. It's still there now! I visited it during a school trip!" She explained excitedly. "I did an interview with the caretaker for my extra credit report and it turns out his family's descendants of the shrine maidens that used to be there!"
"That's good and all but that still doesn't answer my question."
Your friend groaned loudly and slumped her shoulders with an eye roll. "He said the shrine maidens used to have a symbiotic relationship with the specific oni. They'd perform a ritual once a year on a new moon or full moon to summon him and leave him really good offerings. If he liked it enough he might grant you something in return!"
"And he told you how to summon this thing?"
"Yeah because he didn't believe in it. I don't either since ghosts and goblins only exist in books and movies. But what's the harm? If nothing happens I'm buying everyone food and we can have a good laugh if we do happen to summon something we might get a wish granted! Whaddya say?"
There was more silence from you three until your bored friend sighed and rolled her eyes from where she sat. "Fine I guess. Sounds like a win win situation. And I wouldn't mind getting an A on my next math exam."
You sighed. "Alright. Let's just get this over with."
"That's the spirit! But first thing's first!.. Does anyone know if it's a new or full moon tonight?"
Your nervous friend, who still looked nervous, had to pull out her phone and look it up online. The glow of the screen making her face light up in the dark as the thunder still rang out and the first few raindrops began hitting the roof of your home.
"Full moon b-b-but does it count if the storm is blocking out the sky?"
"He only told me it has to be a full of new moon, not that you had to see the moon. We're also gonna need thirteen white candles to represent the sacred number of his, something red to draw the symbols in, and an offering from each of us that has some kind of connection to our wishes!" Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Let's try it out!"
If it got you free food and your rowdiest friend to be quiet, then you weren't going to complain. So you four got to work. A friend found an extra red lipstick when she dug out her bag and like you said before, you had a bunch of scented candles you weren't using....but that begs the question.
"Does scented candles even count?" You gazed down at two white scented candles with the scents labeled 'fresh morning snow' and 'shortbread blast'.
"He just said that the candles had to be white, not that they couldn't be scented."
"Yeah. But there's another problem. I only have twelve white candles. .." Your eyes looked around the mini candle collection. The others were different colors like the red one that smelt like cinnamon and the purplish-black one labeled 'midnight lilacs'. Eventually you found a glimmer of white in the limited darkness with only your phone to see, and pulled out a candle that was half white half brown labeled 'chocolate and vanilla delight'. "I got a brown and white one. Does that count?"
"We're gonna have to make due with it. Well just put the white half facing the center and maybe that'll help."
Well if that's all you had then you four really were going to have to make due with what you had on hand. One friend helped you cleared up space in your room at least a yard and a half clear, while your devious friend drew red lipstick marks onto your floor and the fourth began placing the candles in a circle around her lighting them up as she went until both stepped away and you four were left looking down at the circle of thirteen candles and three symbols in the center of them. Lightning clashed outside behind the curtains barely lighting up the room but you managed to make out three words written in Japanese kanji in red lipstick.
Goemon. Ishikawa. And Thirteen.
You didn't know what that meant but it was ominous in your eyes. The room smelt far too heavy with the pretty scents of sugar cookies, vanilla, daisies, and a few other scents. It was overwhelming and one of you snorted from it all.
"Dam. It smells like someone spilt the entire isle of Fabreath from Wallace-Market in here." She waved a hand before pinching her nose and turning to her. "So what now?"
"Now we put down an offering related to what we want to wish for? Like if you wanted to wish for a million dollars you put down like some rare collector coins or something! Just look around and see what you got!"
While the others looked through their bags, you mindlessly searched around the room for something meaningless you could just throw meaninglessly into the circle. Your eyes gazed over at your jewelry box...and you shrugged. Why not? You had a pair of thick hooped silver earrings your uncle gave you for your birthday last year. They were even real silver, just cheap copper ones painted to look silver. You never wore them anyways so they'd be perfect for this. You opened up the lid narrowing your eyes into a squint. Despite the light of your phone, it was hard to see in the dark. Your hand moved things around inside the box. Old necklaces and things jingling until you saw them. Ah! There they were! Right next to your great grandparents' wedding rings. Now THOSE were actually worth a lot. Real gold and studded with real diamonds. You inherited them box along with their old jewelry box but that didn't matter right now. You wanted the useless tacky earrings next to them. Even now most of the shiny silver paint had peeled off revealing the cheap copper hoops underneath.
"C'mon Y/n! Hurry up! I want that pizza as soon as possible!"
You looked around mindlessly just reaching in and grabbing two round things into your hand. "Coming!"
"What did you grab?" Her brow rose as you just rolled your eyes.
"Just some old jewelry. What about you?"
She held up an ink stone. Probably got it from her school bag. "I was gonna use it for an art project but since I want an A for my exam and I have to write on the test, it was a good enough match."
"Sounds like a good start."
Your other two friends pulled out a book on rare poetry and a small bag of store bought mochi candy. ...Strange offering but you guessed it was the only thing that they could find. Your friend instructed you all placed the offerings on the strange words in Japanese and stepped back without a second thought to look at them....And you four stood there in your pajamas with nothing but the candles to light up the darkness and the rain still pounding at your rooftop.
Silence other than the storm rang out and you four looked around the room exchanging looks sometimes.
".....Is that it?"
"I told you it was a waste of time! Let's just get some food now. I'm starving!"
"Wait! I forgot about the last important step!" She held up her hands as your mutual grumpy and hungry friend turned to go flip on the light switch. "I need to chant the incantation and then we have to say what we want!"
Her arms folded. "Well get on with it! I'm hungry and this is really not fun!"
"Alright, alright! Let me try to remember what the guy told me!"
She stood there staring at the mess of lit candles and lipstick smeared kanji scrunching her brows in deep thought. You and your grumpy friend exchanged mirrored deadpanned looks before she cleared her throat and held her arms out.
"Full moon on the rise. New moon hides from eyes. Abyss of darkness conquering the skies! We summon, summon him from the ground. To our circle lit and round. Oh one who walks the path of light, we come once more to ask you to chase away evils blight! Come from slumber, to seek out what we offer! Great one of good and lght, we ask for you to once more walk the night!"
Her voice shouted out loud enough that you were sure you'd be getting a complaint from the neighbors tomorrow morning. As she finished her chant, a lightning bolt struck out temporarily lighting up the sky outside as the rain poured out...As you all waited looking around more.
"Would you look at that? Nothing happened again. NOW can we get food?"
"Wait! We didn't say what we wanted yet!," she protested to her, "The wish is a part of the ritual so let's complete it ok?!" Your friend groaned but she quickly excitedly exclaimed. "I wish my mom would finally give me the secrets to famous udon recipe so I can start selling it myself!"
"Um..." You nervous friend cautiously and worriedly looked around the dark room. "C-Can I m-meet my favorite author please? O-Only if that's ok! I'm fine if nothing happens really!"
"Oh what the hell. I want an A on my next exam."
...All three looked at you expectantly. "What?"
"Say something, Y/n."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. What did you put down?"
You shrugged. "Some cheap jewelry I don't want honestly."
"OOOH. Wish for something good then! Oh! Oh! I see you always sitting by yourself! Ask him to get you a boyfriend?," you friend teased making you laugh.
"Really? We summon a Yokai just for me to ask him for a boyfriend? If he was real, he'd probably think I was crazy."
"Well it doesn't have to be a boyfriend. You can ask for a sign of who you're meant to be with." That devious smile returned again. "Y'know that caretaker guy told me a lot of maidens would pay the shrine maidens to do rituals and summon the onis as offered brides in exchange for good fortune for their villages. Why don't you ask him to put a ring on it? You'd be the first person to be get a real life monster boyfriend. All the monster lovers on the Internet would be so jealous."
"Plus you're beautiful," your grumpy friend added also with a teasing grin. "You made home coming and prom queen in highschool!"
You laughed again. "Looks aren't everything." You could barely contain the giggles. You then rolled your eyes sarcastically. "But sure." Your hands clasped together and pressed against your chest as you spoke. "Oh great Oni please hear my pleas for your heart!" Even your nervous friend giggled along now as you dramatically fell to your knees. "Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."
A loud snort went off as one of your friends fell back on your bed where she sat giggling out the cheesy lines you were making up on the fly.
"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering some lines from a rom com chick flick you saw last night. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity. Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this offering, I ask you to be mine!" You then bowed your forehead to the floor as everyone continued to giggle loudly.
You all continued to laugh and laugh and laugh as you finally broke into laughs again too and sat back up-
And then all the candles went out at the same time.
Pitch black immediately enveloped the room and at once all laughs ceased. Nothing but silence rang out other than the rain and thunder and occasional strike of lightning. You four stayed silent as you all say there in the dark before your friend became grumpy again.
"Ok. Haha. Very funny, Y/n. Now we can't see shit!"
"That..w-wasnt me," you stuttered out staring at the floor in front of you silently and wide eyed.
"Sure it wasn't. You're literally kneeling in front of them!"
"I don't have the ability to blow out right giant candles at once! Besides some of them were out of my reached! I'd have to crawl over! It wasn't me!"
"Well it's not me! I'm standing up!"
"It wasn't me!" "I'm sitting all the way over here on the bed."
Silence fell Once Again as you all sat there
"....It must've just been a draft! There's no such thing as ghosts and demons! Get the light! I'm tired of this game now!"
Someone was heard stumbling and shuffling around in the dark before you heard hands patting along the wall and then a serious of clicks as someone tried turning on the lights. "It won't turn on!"
"No one panic!" Someone finally turned on the flashlight on their phone and lit up the room. "The storm just cut out the power supply. Let's just get some food and call it a night!"
"Wait! The offerings!"
The light shines towards the middle of the circle. One bag of mochi candy, an ink stone, and a book still laid there. Where was your earrings? You pushed the book aside and froze as you realized that it wasn't a cheap pair of earrings that greeted you..but one beautiful gold ring.
"My great grandmother's ring!" You quickly snatched it up safely into your hands in horror. "I-I must've grabbed them by mistake!" Wait. You remembered feeling two hoops in your hands. "My great grandfather's ring!" Quickly you pushed aside everything else and was horrified to discover that it was gone. "IT'S MISSING!!"
"Calm down. It must've rolled away or someone accidentally kicked it in the dark. It's still around here."
"Yeah. And so is everything else. I CALLED IT! I TOLD you it wasn't gonna work! Now order the food!"
"B-But my ring!"
"It's too dark to look with the power out. Let's just wait until it's day time and then we'll look around. Ok?"
"I-...*sigh* Alright."
"GREAT! Now let's eat. And don't forget the chicken and drinks!"
You went to go stand up-
Creak!
A shriek left your friends and yourself as the floor boards beneath your feet began to shake and quake under your feet. The boards shuttered to life joining the storm's tags as they rattled around everything in your room including all of you. Books and knickknacks fell off shelves and your desk hitting the floors scattering about like it was a full earthquake of in your room. Windows shook and the bedroom door rattled around as one of your friends fell over onto their side hitting the continued moving boards hard. Until all at once it stopped.
And then all the candles lit back up at once.
You blinked at the sudden light. But froze as your eyes were met with feet and sandals. Ever so slowly your terrified eyes looked up. Pupils shrinking as eyes widening at the sight of grey hakama pants and a sharp silver sword glimmering in the light. A red haori coat hung loosely around a thin but muscular frame. And finally  your eyes met a face. A thin lipped line of a mouth met you and black slitted eyes looked down upon you. Shoulder length black hair.hung from his head and two horns protruded from his forehead. The silence carried on as you both still stared as your friends looked on horrified, and then a clawed hand held up a shiny golden band.
"I accept."
"W-Who are you?!"
"I go by many names. My enemies know me as Death. Your people as a god. My family as Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth." Those beautiful eyes widened even more, especially when a hand reached out to tilt her chin back up to him, the feeling of his claws making her shiver under his careful grasp. "You as Husband. I have decided that I accept this coupling."
Your hyperventilating lungs breathed- GASPED for air. Lips. Trembled. Body shook. Tears welding up. "I-I.. Can't accept."
"I'm afraid you have no choice but to honor those vows because now-..Not even death will do us part." 
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ziezie13 · 2 years ago
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Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! Renegade Bindery has organized an event for the occasion, encouraging fans to gift bound copies to some well deserving authors. I decided to do a four part anthology for the event so that I could include as many authors as possible. The anthology, titled Sex, Love, and Rock ‘n Roll, features some of my favorite aspec wolfstar stories that I have collected over the years. These stories mean a lot to me and I’m so happy that I am able to give this gift to the authors that wrote them!
MIDNIGHT RADIO – @everythingbutcoldfire​ Sirius is an actor in his late twenties. Enter Remus: the wardrobe supervisor and dresser for his new show. SEE BUT ONE MOON – Anynomous Black has been pining for the nerdy Barista, Remus Lupin, for three months, but can’t seem to get his attention. Remus, however, has noticed the over-excited law student, but isn’t interested in being a conquest of the week. When Remus starts listening to the Marauding Hour – a University radio programme, he finds himself enraptured by one of the DJs, and starts to crush on him – hard. Little does he know that Padfoot has known him all along, and is looking for something much more than a one-off. VALENTINE'S DAY – @everythingbutcoldfire​ Remus has never really grasped how some people feel very neutral about kissing. It had never been like him to snog random people at parties. Sirius, on the other hand, happens to be a prime example of that person. STRANGERS WHEN WE MEET – @everythingbutcoldfire​ Remus is biking to the movie theater and meets a hot stranger on a motorcycle at a piece of car friendly infrastructure. You’ll never guess who it is. THE LIGHT THAT BLINDS MY EYES – @aryastark-valarmorghulis​ Sirius is in love. Remus is too, he just doesn’t know it yet. In which Sirius is demi and pines a lot, Remus is oblivious, and they should move together as soon as possible. TALK TO ME – @everythingbutcoldfire​ A tale of pining in two parts: Remus, hopelessly in love with his roommate, has to take care of him when Sirius has a fever and is a bit delirious. Sirius walks in on Remus watching a video. Remus tells him something. Sirius realizes something about himself. TEENAGE WASTELAND – @ziezie13​ Sirius Black and his best friend, James Potter, are the coolest guys in school. Their pranks are legendary and their reign is undisputed. But with graduation fast approaching and James heading off to Princeton in the fall with his girlfriend, Lily Evans, Sirius wants to get in one more epic day of hijinks and fun before the real world comes crashing down around them. HAPPY – literary_lion Sirius Black is very confused. He doesn’t know why Remus has been avoiding him, he can’t understand why none of his romance-obsessed friends believe he doesn’t get crushes, and he’s not sure why James thinks the two problems are related. THE JOY OF NOT SEX – @wereflamingo​ Sirius is confused about sex and sets out to investigate. And if that investigation includes an awful lot of snogging with one Remus Lupin, what of it? The story of how ace Sirius got together with allo Remus, to great success, and had lots of asexy not-sex with him. FEEL SOMETHING – @lovingremus​ Remus has never really grasped how some people feel very neutral about kissing. It had never been like him to snog random people at parties. Sirius, on the other hand, happens to be a prime example of that person. O NO I HOPE I DON'T FALL – @everythingbutcoldfire​ Remus and Sirius are roommates in their late twenties. They’re on a weekend trip to see a T. Rex cover band and to rent a boat for shiggles. FEELING OF INADEQUACY – @xomarauders​ Sirius struggles with his sexuality and questions if he’s worthy of Remus’ love. FAR ABOVE THE WORLD – @everythingbutcoldfire​ After a climate change apocalypse has rendered Earth uninhabitable, sixteen-year-olds Sirius and Remus live aboard a starship on course to another solar system and a new home. COLOUR ME INSIDE OUT – Anonymous In spite of their fundamental differences, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin have a happy marriage. It’s open, and they have strict rules. Only one night, a stranger at a pub turns everything upside down, and now both are afraid with these new feelings, it means everything’s falling apart. Neither of them expect this outcome when James Potter enters their lives. THESE DAYS – @everythingbutcoldfire​ An evening at Grimmauld Place, thinking about feelings, memories, and missed chances. CHERRY-COLOURED FUNK – @everythingbutcoldfire​ Remus is feeling sad about Valentine’s Day. Sirius takes him on a fake date to show him the true meaning of romance. Or to deconstruct what romance even means. A little bit of both
In order to keep this post (relatively) short you can find my introduction to the anthology here which includes some ramblings on fanfiction, asexuality/aromaticism, and Wolfstar. If you are interested in the technical stuff I have everything bookbinding related here.
More photos under the cut.
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