#but this was fun what if i did a bunch of these

[ms-demeanor]

My mom has gone full on Youtube Woo "natural cures" and I have no idea how to get through to her. Literally sitting at home in front of the tv playing video after video of pseudoscientific bunk and lapping it up... She's diabetic and a cancer survivor and I fear she's gonna do irreparable damage in her forays into the deep end...

Do you have any tips on reaching folks that are in this deep?

Regular reinforcement of evidence-based medicine as kind as you can make it whenever it comes up.

"Oh I heard about this coffee enema thing..." "There's not really any evidence to back that up, mom, and besides, it sounds pretty unpleasant."

"Oh I heard about how nightshades are poison" "That book doesn't have a lot of great evidence, plus here are the kinds of micronutrients that you can get from nightshades, they're important in your diet."

"Oh I'm not sure about vaccines anymore, the new ones are so scary" "Mom, I'm so glad you got me vaccinated, I think about how kids younger than me are at risk of measles and other issues because of vaccine hesitancy and I worry so much for them, I think you made the right decision when I was a kid and I'm grateful for it."

"Oh, but fluoride in the water can cause IQ losses in young children," "Mom, those studies aren't in areas where fluoride is added, they're in areas where it's naturally high and are way, way above what gets added here, plus look at you and me, we have been drinking fluoridated water and we're both smart."

IDK, it's miserable. Basically you go on natural news and learn about all the lies, then spend twenty times as much time learning about the debunkings for all the lies and then try to be nice when you tell them they're wrong.

Since your mom has had previous successful treatment from allopathic doctors call back to that; "but mom I'm so glad they were able to take care of your cancer - I know it was hard but I think you might not have survived if you hadn't trusted your doctors." "but mom, look at how much the medical science on diabetes has improved in your lifetime; i'm glad it's easier to manage now than it was when you were younger, and that there are better treatments being developed all the time; I don't think they're hiding things from us otherwise they'd still treat diabetes and cancer like they did in the 50s, and things are so much better than that."

Just. Try to be nice. Try not to attack her. Try to keep it light and offer cheerful arguments before changing the subject.

You don't want her to get defensive, you want her to consider you to be someone she can ask for information who won't make fun of her and doesn't think she's stupid.

Anyway. Life with my mother in law has been fun recently. She watched a youtube video and decided she must have gone into ketosis after fasting for twelve hours so she ordered a bunch of protein strips and I'm cooking for her a few times a week to guarantee that she's eating something other than canned chili beans.

So. You know. I feel you.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Happy New Year! (Yandere!Fortune Teller x GN!Reader)

A delighted squeal sharply cut through the quiet chatter of the line for the fortune teller. It was a small little illegal shop that popped up overnight and was all over (Reader's) feed. Their best friend, and the reason why they were outside in the cold so early, tugged on their coat sleeve.

"They must have gotten a good one." She smiled playfully, and still a little drunk.

The fortune teller was apparently incredibly accurate. Even skeptics had been posting all morning about how this guy was able to tell them full names of people in their lives and dates of events that already happened he shouldn't have been able to guess on the first try.

"Missy, it's cold as hell.." (Reader) whined, their head also hurting a tad bit from the amount their friend had them drink a few hours earlier to welcome the new year. ".. and I just want a burrito."

Missy clicked her long acrylics in front of (Reader's) face. "And I want a girlfriend. C'mon, just a few more minutes! Please! You don't even have to get your fortune done, just stay with me, emotional support!" She huffed and stamped her boots while dramatically letting her arms fall to her sides heavy enough to make a loud whump against her coat.

They knew their friend wasn't actually a brat, but it was a fun little "act" ; she enjoyed putting on, especially when she was all dolled up (as she called it). So, as what usually happens, (Reader) rolled their eyes theatrically in a show of pretending to give in. The woman with the pink and blonde fashion wig smiled wide and squeezed (Reader's) arm lovingly.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first, (Reader) thought that the man was a mannequin. A beautiful body propped up at a table, with a veil over the top of his head and silk clothes, but other than the fact that he was beautiful, there was something too basic about his features and too perfect about his skin to be human. Like a mall mannequin: with a dusty pale skin tone with zero blemishes or imperfections, his eyebrows looked so fine that they were maybe painted on, and the blonde hair under the veil was so light in color, (Reader) thought he was bald and that the lightly golden coloring was more silk.

Yes, he was beautiful, but looking at him was uncomfortable, like people describing the uncanny valley of robots.

He opened his eyes, revealing dull grey irises, that helped humanized him (at least, in (Reader's) opinion).

"Welcome, Miranda and (Reader)." His voice was also weirdly perfect, making (Reader's) skin crawl, but looking over at Missy they saw she didn't feel anything other than awe.

"Ohmygawd, how did you know our names?!"

He smiled very softly. "It's my job." A thin hand with long, delicate fingers motioned for the two friends to sit before him.

As the cards were laid out (Reader) allowed their mind to wander. Not only did the guy in front of them weird them out, but they believed that fortune tellers were scam artists. They knew it could be fun to just see what your future might look like, and wanted to be respectful for people who actually believed in tarot and stuff like that, but people setting up businesses promising to read your future and then just reading some generic script then charging you a hundred bucks is how you get vulnerable people to fork over their life savings. (Reader) only agreed to go because to make sure the "fortune teller" didn't try and change the price on Missy or sell her a bunch of unnecessary shit.

The man clapped loudly, startling (Reader) back into focus. "You will meet a woman this year.

You will meet her in two months, at the book store across from your job. The two of you will be searching for the same book, and it will feel like fate. Don't be afraid to ask her out for coffee, because she'd love to discuss the series with you."

Long nails scratch the back of (Reader's) hand as Missy impulsively grabs it. "Are you.. sure she's.. y'know..." she raised her eyebrows.

The man looked puzzled for a second before responding with, "The ending you always wanted for NaNa."

Missy nearly cracked her neck turning to (Reader) as quickly as she did, whining happily "Oh my god...." before burying her face in their chest. Then (Reader) felt the tears, and realized Missy was more drunk and exhausted than they realized.

"Uh, thanks, did she already pay, or?"

"Would you like your fortune read now?"

He seemed unfazed by Missy's minor meltdown.

"Ah, no thanks."

"I'll give it to you free. Call it a two for one deal."

Alarm bells were ringing in their head. "Why?"

He was silent for a second, like he was listening to something, just as he was when he told Missy she was going to be living out her headcannon fantasy. "Something's just telling me I should give you a fortune reading."

Missy wiped snot across (Reader's) chest before raising her head. "Oh, are you getting read too?"

"What? N-"

"Can we get burritos after this?"

They looked down at their best friend in the entire world, and sighed. "Yeah, if it's completely free."

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even compelling completely scrunched up in concentration, there was a concerning lack of wrinkles, leading (Reader) to the conclusion that if this man was in fact human, he most certainly had botox.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open wide. He looked up at (Reader), staring deep into them without blinking.

"What?"

He didn't answer. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. But his face began to change into an odd shade of pink.

The wig wearing woman loudly gasped "IS THEY DYING?!" while clutching (Reader's) arm in mock horror.

"I'm not dying!" (Reader) shoved their friend off, feeling overwhelmed by their current situation.

The fortune teller reached across the table, and without asking, grabbed one of (Reader's) hands, observing their palm intensely. But he could only do so for a second before they yanked their arm back and stood up.

"Missy, let's go, I told you this guy was a fucking scammer."

Like a switch had been flipped, Missy held up her middle finger and called the man a creep, apologetic for not trusting her best friend. "Why did he grab you like that? So gross!"

The two left. They would later get burritos and watch half a movie before passing out. This moment was creepy, but ultimately, nothing to them.

He had always been gifted.

But when they left the gifted medium on the floor, images of what he had just been shown were still fresh in his mind.

The tarot cards were a gimmick, just there because that's something people associate with being able to see the past, present, and future. Was he a scam artist? Maybe, to some. He never gave people the fortunes they didn't want to hear, and only reminded them of memories they liked. You don't get tipped if you tell someone their child is going to die. And we all need money.

Then (Reader) came into his pop up shop, another skeptic, and he figured if gave them a reading for free and made it really good they would be the type of person to tip him out of guilt. But for their future all he saw was... him.

Him?

He had never thought about himself. He was creepy and disgusting. His presence made people uncomfortable. If he focuses hard enough he can speak to the dead. No one wants to be friends with that. No one wants to love that.

No future is set in stone. There are hundreds of thousands of possibilities, and he can see them all. And while (Reader) sat in front of him, staring at him with their beautifully tired eyes, he searched through every single one.

It was.. exciting, he had to admit, seeing himself with someone. He didn't know this person at all, but it wasn't hard to feel some kind of affection for them seeing a future where they felt affection for Him.

He couldn't even remember the last time someone willing held his hand. Maybe when he had to cross the street with his mother? No, she required him to wear gloves.

While staring at his client, he couldn't help but watch their entire life. He was supposed to look through their memories briefly to get a sense of the "past", but like time didn't exist, he watched their entire life play out. They made him feel things.

Even when (Reader) called him a scammer, he still loved them. After all, he did kind of lie by omission to their best friend: Missy's new relationship would only last five months.

But it was okay if they thought he was creepy or a scam artist. Because he already saw the future.

And he knew every single correct step to take to make sure they were smiling at him like they were in that vision.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Happy New Year everyone!!!!!!

Let's hope that this upcoming year is better than the last!

I'm a really pessimistic person, so I'm trying to be hopeful. I'm also trying to find ways to reduce stress since I can't afford to take care of my mental health (haha). I'm getting white hairs. White. Ain't that crazy? It's stressful trying to not stress out lol

Does anyone else play future telling games on New Year? As a kid my family would all play MASH to see what our future is going to be like hahaha and a lot of my younger coworkers this year were talking about eating grapes under tables? Very cute <3

I hope you all had a great new year, and didn't get too drunk, stay hydrated, and if you have and future telling game memories for me years tell me about it!

Let's make 2025 better than 2024!

[cat-mermaid]

was just thinking today about how 10/15 years ago the internet was just this flawless thing, you could find info you were searching for instantly, there were so many people's webpages and webcomics (all of which now have been replaced by a person's twitter) and it just felt like there was more internet to explore then there is today

there used to be this website i loved called "Dorkly". It would update with comics, fun think pieces and animations. One day out of the blue they announced they would no longer be updating the website, all new content would be on their twitter

i said fuck that because navigating a twitter feed to find updates compared to opening a website was a pain, so no more dorkly

awhile back i found this article (tried to find it again but couldn't) that was about a lawsuit by a bunch of websites against twitter. Twitter had mislead and outright falsely exaggerated the traffic numbers that these various websites were receiving on their twitters (this was between 2015-2019?)

the websites were led to believe that they were getting more engagement on twitter then their established websites, so they abandoned them to focus solely on twitter, only to find that their numbers were actually abysmal and they'd lost a huge chunk of their readers and a lot of them went under

Dorkly is now a shadow of its former self, now its just a crappy youtube channel that just kinda exists. I would bet u cash money it was a victim of this twitter scam

wat i'm getting at here is that fucking twitter killed the old net, it actively did everything it could to get everyone onto it and thats how we got here

what warms the cockles of my heart tho is that for a window of time twitter was it, it was the website. It was unkillable. Then musky boy killed it

like when i think about twitter now i think about this panel from the comic Zebra Girl:

twitter was the website. It was news, it was video, it was social interaction, it was everything. It burned and salted over the old net so that only it stood and nothing could replace it

...then all it took was one special boy to come along and just pour bleach into that well and-

guuuuurl i love to see it

some people made somthing as monolithic and unkillable as twitter, then one insecure annoying chode found a way to kill it

without even trying

thank u 4 attending my ted talk :)

I genuinely have been sitting here missing my favorite days of the internet.

when there were large social media platforms, yes, but forums and alternatives to the largest sites also felt viable and full of potential.

When I spent so much time just dicking around on tumblr and deviantart feeling like things could only get better from here, now it just feels like a noose getting tighter and tighter and tighter. You feel like it can't get any tighter and then it does.

There was a point of perfect balance, but we passed it years ago.

[slimybeth69]

Thirst: Part 6

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: There's a bunch y'all and I'm not giving any of them away because it would spoil the chapter. So, this is your warning: 18+ themes after the cut!! BEWARE!!!!

Chapter Summary: Your life in the tower was a thing of the past- is that a good thing?

a/n: Heyyyyy, so I've been the most nervous about THIS chapter since I started writing this story. It's... different. So have fun!! And also lets imagine that bows and arrows don't exist. (This is non-canon to the movie)

Series Masterlist

Your beautiful tower is a thing of the past. It’s been days since you slept there – or even stepped foot inside it. 

Now that you're no longer in your wonderful room, with its big soft mattress and comfortable sheets, you're forced to share a bed with someone you do not like. It’s all too reminiscent of when you were living at the brothel – except the man you were now forced into such close proximity with didn’t even want to touch you.

Hanno The Barbarian is what the Emperors had called him. 

You are sure they had hoped he would rape you, or kill you, but instead he treats you as if you do not exist.

You were supposed to be the one to service him after his fights, should he be fortunate enough to survive. You would have, but apparently he is just one more man who won't let you touch him. It feels as though the gods are laughing at you.

From what you have observed, Hanno isn't like the rest of the brutish men who fight and die in the pit. He's quiet. He’s never impulsive. At times he almost seems gentle. Though he’s undefeated and feared for his ferocity in the games, you wonder whether he would hurt anyone at all if he were given the choice.

Hanno won't speak to you or let you attend to his injuries. You might as well not even be there.

How did you end up here? For a time, it seemed like there was a chance of putting the girl you’d been behind you. You wouldn’t always be another girl who was bought and sold to ease the worries or fulfill the pleasures of men. For a time, you thought it might even be possible to feel loved and cared about. 

You had actually begun to feel that contentment – for a few brief moments – before the fantasy dissolved with the arrival of a slave trader at your door. 

There had been no guards outside your quarters, no handmaids to explain to you what was happening. There was just this man with his charming smile and soothing voice, delivering terrible news.

“Acacius said your time together has come to an end. You need to come with me.”

General Marcus Acacius had sold you. 

You felt numb as you took the man’s hand and left your rooms, but with each step down the staircase that numbness was replaced by a deep ache in your chest. It felt like someone had extracted your heart, carved ‘foolish’ into the flesh, and then replaced it back inside your broken ribs.

After the night you had shared, Marcus had abandoned you without a word. He never told you where he was going, or when he’d be back.

How could you have been so naive? to let yourself set your hopes on his beautiful empty words.

Of course it was too good to be true.

He had sold you to be a new plaything for the emperors, and he had been too much of a coward to hand you over himself. 

When you arrived at the palace, the memory of those tender promises he'd whispered to you—promises of a new life in a new place—turned to burning, bitter rage. You let that rage fill your chest, burying whatever hurt still remained.

Like spoiled children, the twins hated to see anyone enjoying something that they didn’t have, and the favored pet of their recalcitrant general was the ultimate prize. 

It was no secret that the twins had wanted to see what all the fuss had been about but you refused them violently each time. 

Even with the threat of torture and then eventual death, you never folded. Never once let them put their hands on you. 

You had smiled in their faces when the guards dragged you from their bed chambers sneering, "Death is better than the little one's weeping cock." 

That’s how you ended up down here though, in the gladiatorial bathhouse, watching Hanno soak. 

“Does it hurt badly?” You nod your head towards the relatively large gash on his left pectoral.

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look at you when he shrugs his shoulders. 

There is a moment where you want to shove his head under the water and hold him there. Then, there is the part of you that knows he isn’t here because he would like to be. He is a prisoner just like you. 

With a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes, you grab the clean rag on the side of the stone tub and dip it into the warm water. Instead of reaching out to him, trying to do it yourself, you just hand him the now dripping piece of cloth. 

Hanno stares at it for a moment, as though this is a foreign gesture to him. Kindness. Care. 

“I know you understand me, I know you can speak as well,” you urge him to take what’s in your hand, and wave the other towards the iron barred door.  “I’ve heard you talking to the others.”

“Why is it so important that I speak to you?” His voice is much deeper up close and when he’s not whispering to the healing men that come to stitch up the fighters, or the other gladiators themselves.

It’s jarring how his voice plucks at each one of your veins like the strings of an instrument. You’re almost vibrating off the side of the tub. “It’s not important, it’s just nice to have someone to talk to. Instead of just talking to myself…or the wall.” 

Hanno snorts softly and takes the rag from you. He dips it back into the steaming water and lifts it gently to his chest. He winces and sucks air in between his clenched teeth. 

“I knew it hurt,” you tease him lightly. 

His eyes shoot up to yours, like he’s angry with you for even speaking– there’s a darkness to them that you’ve never seen before, but there is also a smirk playing across his lips. “You talk too much,” he growls and now the smirk feels malicious with the way his eyes are narrowed on you.

“Now I wonder why I ever wanted you to start talking,” you grumble, feeling foolish for trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve been down here with you for days, and that is the first thing you can say to me?” You try to swallow down the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I didn’t banish you to these cells. I’m stuck here, just like you.” 

Hanno releases the now crimson-stained cloth into the murky water. "I apologize," he murmurs, but his words echo in the eerie stillness of the dungeon. "Everything here seems like a twisted joke..."

“What do you mean?” 

The water sloshes against the side of the tub lightly as he sinks further into the comforting warmth. You think it might be the only comfort Hanno receives anywhere in this place. 

It’s more comfort than you’ve been able to find, and you’ve been searching. Looking for something safe and constant since long before you became a plaything for the Emperors. 

"You..." Hanno trails off, his tone rising in a question rather than a statement.

Your nostrils flare in defense, “...have been discarded by the ones I love and treated like an animal by the morally depraved—” Your words come out bitterly because it is true. 

“You call me depraved?” He hisses, “Have you seen those men dripping in gold, wearing lavish robes—” 

“Who do you think appointed me to be your special companion ? You thought I volunteered for this?" You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I would give anything to just go home.”

This is your home now, unfortunately. A cell shared with a gladiator. What happens if Hanno is able to buy his freedom? Or, more likely, when he’s finally killed in the pit? What will you do then?

"What brought you here, to Rome?" he asks, turning the conversation back to you.

“Money.” The word slips out before you can stop it, it’s wrapped up in sadness and a hint of disdain. "My family was struggling, our farm was failing, and the taxes were impossible. And not out of cruelty, but desperation— I became the price of its survival."

Hanno's expression shifts to something that resembles pity, tangled with a strange understanding. "So your family sold you to the Emperors?" he asks, running the wet cloth across his wounded chest.

"I was sold to a brothel and then bought by a man, and then sold again to a different man who then brought me here." You shake your head at your sad story of a life. "The Emperors wanted to bed me, but I fought them, told them I would rather die—"

"So they sent you down here?" He laughs, but you don't get the impression he's laughing at you or your misfortune. It's almost a chuckle of disbelief. "Worse than death, I assume— for someone like you."

"That was their thinking, but apparently they chose the one gladiator that has no interest in getting his cock wet." You can't help but feel like that alone is a win. Hanno hasn’t hurt you, so they don't get the satisfaction. They lost.

The iron door suddenly clangs open. A guard appears and he looms in the doorway, "Cleaning time is over," he barks. "Back to your cell."

Marcus groans loudly as Lucilla finishes straightening the clasps that hold his cape around his shoulders.

“Can’t you act as if you don’t hate doing this?” Lucilla asks with a sour look on her face. “You and I both know they get a rise out of the fact that you do not enjoy-”

“I just came back from the road and barely had time to wash my ass,” Marcus grumbles, letting his wife adjust the golden clasps on his cape. "This is just another way for them to show me that I’m under their thumbs, but not for much longer—"

Lucilla scolds him softly,“You cannot speak that way, not here.” She glances around nervously, looking for ears that may be listening to conversations that aren’t meant for them. “You act as if we are already free,” she whispers almost silently in his ear.

Marcus will always have love for Lucilla in his heart, that’s why he knows he would never leave her behind to fend for herself.

Lucilla had been through so much in her life— the murder of her father, the corruption and cruelty of her brother, Commodus, and ultimately Maximus. 

After Commodus was killed, Lucilla did not have one blood relative to keep her safe here in Rome- to protect her. As an upcoming General, Marcus knew that the only way to ensure her safety was to marry her.

The Colosseum is loud, chaotic, and packed with spectators. It's too hot, and there isn't enough wine for Marcus to pretend he’s enjoying himself. He sits rigid and uncomfortable in the imperial box.

The twins, Geta and Caracalla, sit just in front of Marcus and his wife.

Caracalla looks over his shoulder, "Enjoying the spectacle, General?"

"As always, Emperor." Marcus knows better than to show any sign of discomfort. Years of military training have taught him to maintain a neutral expression, even as his mind races with thoughts of you.

Alone in that forsaken room, longer than ever before. He knows you probably hate him, and he’ll have to make it up to you. He would do whatever it took, he just wishes he didn’t have to.

"We have a special match today. One you might find…interesting." Geta says with a mirthless chuckle 

Marcus wonders what the hell that could mean. The fights always end in one way – many men dead and only one victor. This is truly a sport invented by men who have only known the comfort of a palace. Real soldiers have seen too much death to find entertainment in it.

The roar of the crowd grows louder as two gladiators enter the arena. Marcus recognizes one of them as the newest fighter— The Barbarian. He’s made a name for himself in the pit and impresses Marcus with his strength and cunning every time.

Lucilla has even taken an interest in him, and that’s very unlike her. This brutal sport only brings up painful memories for her, but Marcus notices her leaning forward in her chair, trying to get a better view of the fighter.

The roar of the crowd becomes a drone as Marcus’s mind drifts to you again – wondering where you are, what you're doing.

The last time he saw you had been the morning after your shared night together. You were begging him not to go with tears rolling down your face. It broke his heart every time he had to pull his hands out of yours, surprised by your strength when you were so desperate for him to stay close to you.

Once this fight was over, Marcus would run straight to you. He would kiss your tears away, lick them off your cheeks and whisper apologies in your ear.

He would never be away from you ever again. Tonight was the night that the three of you would escape the necrotic touch of the Emperors.

“Does The Barbarian look familiar to you at all?” Lucilla’s quiet voice in his ear brings him back to the arena, and the two men fighting— well, no, it’s just the young man now. His opponent was dead at his feet.

Marcus takes a closer glance at the man- barely a man, a boy really. There is a certain familiarity in the way he stood. Even the way he fought was like something or someone Marcus had seen before, but he couldn’t place it.

“I’m not sure,” he turns to look at his wife and sees the worry behind her eyes. “Do you recognize him?”

Lucilla doesn’t get a chance to answer.

The loud booming voice of the announcer fills the arena once again. "The Barbarian is once again— victorious!" He bellows.

The crowd goes wild. The new gladiator has been a favorite since he arrived in Rome as a prisoner of war. A war that Marcus had brought to that young man's land and home. That was the story of many of these gladiators, and Marcus tried to forget their faces at night but it was nearly impossible.

"General, are you listening?" Geta is standing beside Marcus now, whispering in his ear. "You'll want to be sure to hear this…"

Marcus dials back into what is being said by the announcer.

"…very interesting game to play!"

He only catches the last bit, and now he strains his eyes to see what's happening in the sandy pit below him.

The Barbarian is being handed another sword by a guard who runs back into one of the tunnels that lead into the arena.

"Our victor has one more opponent to fight, a beast with fur, teeth and razor sharp claws!" The man announcing makes a grand show with the thematic way he talks. "But this is no ordinary fight, our Barbarian has something very important to protect!"

This was quite interesting. Marcus has never seen a fight like this before.

"Bring in 'The Golden Girl'"

For a moment, this means nothing to Marcus and he wonders who the new female gladiator could be. 

It's not until you walk out, wearing a gown that mimics the tunic he's wearing now- white and gold - that he realizes what has happened.

Marcus’s hands tense on the arms of the chair as he tries to steady his breathing.

The Barbarian turns to face you as you quickly make your way to him, but his stance is protective, not aggressive. Something about the way he looks at you, the way he pushes you behind him, suggests he knows you. 

Marcus isn’t sure he understands what’s going on— you don’t have fur or teeth, or razor sharp claws. You’re far from a beast.

Lucilla's hand finds Marcus's arm, her grip is tight, as though she senses something is wrong. "What’s going to happen to that girl?" she whispers. Marcus glances at her, watching her eyes darting between you, the Barbarian and the only tunnel with an open gate.

The announcer starts to speak, Marcus only just able to hear him over the deafening roar of the blood in his ears, and his own heartbeat thudding wildly in his chest. It reverberates in his whole body like that of the drum used during battle– sending signals and commands to his troops.

“Someone in our audience surely is brave enough to help our gladiator defend this little bird.”

This beating inside his chest is a signal. A command to go to you. Run to you– jump out of this damn imperial box just to hold you in his arms.

The announcer continues to shout nonsense, but Marcus is no longer listening. He only feels his throat constrict, watching you in the arena. Wondering what’s in store for you, and how he’s the one who put you there. This is what he had been so afraid of.

The white and gold gown you're wearing catches the sunlight, making you look ethereal, while still terrified.

Your eyes are glued to the back of the gladiators head, and Marcus can see the tears in them from here. He feels as though he may be sick. Lucilla’s hand on his arm grips— her fingernails digging into his skin. Marcus can feel her staring at him.

“You know her,” she breathes.

“I do.”

Marcus isn’t ashamed that Lucilla can see you, or that she even knows about you now— she had known about the lover Marcus had wanted to take before he had even met you. This was something that had been spoken about, considered and then agreed upon, with one condition from Lucilla.

To be taken somewhere she could find love again, a real passionate love that wouldn’t be taken from her. A place where she may then search for her son without the threat of deadly Emperor’s.

Lucilla had even offered to house you in her private, guarded villa and Marcus refused, saying it was too dangerous to have his mistress so close to home.

Rome was dangerous and now he could kick himself.

“That’s your Dove?” Lucilla whispers into his ear.

Shocked, Marcus twists his head to look at her curiously but says nothing. He only cocks one eyebrow as Lucilla loosens her grip on his arm.

“You’ve spoken of her in your sleep,” she sounds heartbroken, but Marcus knows it’s not because she’s hurt by his indiscretions, but because he’s had to be away from you for so long. Lucilla looks as though she were in real physical pain for him. “Go to her and keep her safe, Acacius.”

“It looks as though she may need another defender, General.” Geta’s haughty tone sends a violent shiver down Marcus'sspine.

There are three thoughts going through Marcus'smind as he leaves the imperial box.

Rescue you. Kill the Emperors. Get out of Rome.

“Get out there!” A guard growls and pushes you out of the darkened tunnel that leads you into the gladiator pit.

You stumble, but keep your footing and finally look around. There are more eyes locked onto you than you could ever imagine. More eyes looking at you now than ever before and probably ever again.

Hanno is in the center of the pit and when his eyes fall on you, they go wide with surprise- like he cannot believe you’re here.

You can’t really believe it either; you had just been sitting in your cell, imagining the last time you and Marcus had been together.

Marcus stirs in his sleep as you gaze down at his handsomeness. You are completely blessed by the gods that such a good looking man wanted to lock you away from everyone else so he could keep you all to himself. That was very flattering and you cannot deny that, not one bit. It makes a liquid heat pool in your belly whenever you think about it. “I think…I could be in love with you,” you mouth, no sound coming out of your mouth. “Please don’t let me down.” It feels like a prayer to him, as well as the gods above that this isn’t some ruse to make you bear a child for his wife or worse… just a terrible joke to make him feel powerful? Important and desired? Marcus sleeps peacefully through your supplications, and you’re thankful because even though you have doubt in your heart about his feelings and plans; you just want him to sleep. Despite everything, you need him to know that this place in bed next to you is calm and quiet. It’s safe here with you. Whatever you feel for Marcus is strong- whether it’s love, or infatuation, or a desperation to feel desired, it’s there and without much you can do about it, that feeling swells inside of you. Even though you wish it wouldn’t. Looking down at him– his normally neatly styled hair was wild and unkempt from the numerous times you had it between your fingers. You were pulling and tugging on it as he licked, sucked and fucked you into countless orgasms throughout the night. You brush a stray curl away from his forehead gently but his hand flies to your wrist and grips it tightly. As his eyes open and he sees it’s only you and not an enemy, his fingers loosen, and he brings the sensitive skin of your inner wrist to his lips. “Luna Flora…you should know better… than to disturb a… soldier in his sleep,” he murmurs sleepily through soft kisses against your pulse point. You gasp, startled by his sudden alertness. Positive he can hear the sound of your heartbeat, as well as feel it on his lips, you whisper, "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you." He’s looking at you with such deep concentration with his perfect brown eyes, that it steals the breath from your lungs. "Don’t be," he yawns and stretches his body until he’s quivering before wrapping you up in his arms, tugging your body back into his. “Never be sorry. I would always choose to spend time with you awake, over the time I spend with you in my dreams.”

Then a guard came, threw this eerily familiar white and gold tunic at you, told to change and then forced up the seemingly endless set of stairs.

“Bring in The Golden Girl!”

That name, the way it’s said, the way Hanno is looking at you is telling you that this isn’t a normal fight.

The announcer continues, “She’s someone very special to someone in the crowd. I wonder who could know this beautiful bird?”

The more the voice from the pit speaks, the more you feel like your knees might buckle. Beautiful bird-- like a Dove? What on earth is he saying?

Everything else falls as Hanno closes the space between the two of you, putting himself between you and the only open tunnel. All the others have an iron gate keeping you trapped inside.

“What’s happening?” Your voice is hoarse. It feels like your mouth is full of the same sand you’re standing in.

Hanno doesn’t turn to look at you, but he reaches for you blindly, finding your forearm and pushing you further behind him to shield you with his body. “Stay behind me the entire time. Do. Not. Run.”

“What do you mean, run?” Your heart, which was already threatening to hammer its way out from behind your rib cage- starts beating faster somehow. “What would I run from?”

The terrible thoughts begin to race through your head at what could be lurking in that dark tunnel. The seconds tick by so slowly and all the sounds inside the arena blend into one. You can’t even make out the announcer anymore over the roar of the crowd- but you had stopped listening because his words were confusing, and for some reason they hurt.

A real physical pain that you could pinpoint. It hurts in your chest– because those names were things The Traitor called you, and it’s impossible to think that he sold you into this. He went and told the twin Emperors his names for you! It makes you feel foolish to think at one point you thought they were sweet, but in all seriousness, they turned out to be cruel, his little endearments for you.

You could cry right here in the pit, knowing you were probably going to die violently and in front of so many people.

“Dove…”

What!? That voice!? The Traitor?

You reel around, now face to face with Marcus and his traitorous handsomeness. It’s so hard to not feel like you’re melting. Barefoot in the scorching sand that burns, and the sun that hasn’t stopped fucking beating down on you since you walked out here. And now, under his gaze– you feel like it’s all slipping away from you.

“What are you doing here? How–” That’s all he says before you’re being pushed behind him, now shielded by both men as a sound cuts through the crowd.

Blood curdling, a deep bellowing call that reverberates off the walls of the tunnel as the beast makes its way into the pit.

It’s the biggest thing you’ve ever seen- and you lived on a farm with horses and cows. Bulls, too! It’s a bear, big and brown with matted fur. Mangled by fights that it had emerged victorious from. Now it stands at the mouth of that darkened tunnel and all you want to do is hide. You look for an escape but there is none.

At the mercy of Marcus and Hanno, and the gods above once again, you plant you feet into the sand and pray that nothing bad happens to you.

If it does, let it be quick.

The stones that build up the Colosseum are hot against your back. It's where you've been since the fight started. Marcus kept himself between you and the bear the entire fight, but eventually you got pushed aside and crawled to the perimeter of the arena.

Marcus pulls his sword from the bear's neck with a loud, wet squelch, his chest heaving. Hanno- bloodied and bruised, drops to his knees beside the animals lifeless form. They won, but not without their own injuries.

Marcus's head wheels around the arena, and stops when his eyes meet yours. With his sword still clutched tightly in his hand, he runs to you where you're crouched against the wall.

It's like it's happening in slow motion as he pulls you to your feet, his strong, eyes roaming every inch of you. His hands begin frantically searching your body as he pulls you into his chest, "Are you wounded? Did anything—"

There had been rage inside of you before, but not like this. "Get off of me!" You growl and attempt to push yourself away from him, but he doesn't budge.

One of his bloody hands cups your face, wiping the dirt and sand away from your face, exposing the black eye and the laceration on your cheek—given to you by the Emperors as a parting gift before being sent to the dungeons.

The cut stings when he touches it, and you wince and pull away from him. "Get off me!" You hiss, hands still pushing firmly on his chest.

"Who did that to you?" Marcus growls, his eyes scanning the arena looking for the culprit.

"The men you sold me to!" You nearly scream at him. A hush falls over the crowd. "Did you think the twins would accept 'no' from their newest pet?"

Marcus's eyes darken, and his jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth. "I never sold you." His eyes fall on the imperial box. "You're no one's pet."

You follow his gaze, and look up at the Emperors. The charming man who had come to your room in the night to take you away sitting behind them-- with one of your trusted chambermaids on his left.

"I'll kill her," you spit, eyes narrowing on the woman you would have, at one time, considered a friend. "Traitor. I'll fucking kill her!"

Marcus places one hand on your chest and pushes you behind him once again, shielding you from the eyes of those standing above you.

Caracalla, the brat- the whiny and entitled one that wanted to watch you flayed for refusing his pus-oozing cock. “Kill her –  kill the whore!” he shouts. “Barbarian, pick up your sword! I want to see her blood spilled on the sand!”

Hanno, who is still kneeling beside the dead beast, drops his weapon. “I would die before I follow another demand of a false emperor—I will not harm her!" He shouts up to them, the crowd roars at his defiance.

Geta holds up a hand for silence, “I’m not as impetuous as my brother— the beast had its chance, and it was the will of the gods that the whore should live. But, as she is yet unclaimed, she –”

“She is mine!” Marcus’s voice snaps through the air. A shocked murmur rolls through the crowd, and Geta’s face tenses into a mask of barely contained fury. “You call her a whore, but for all your money and power she wouldn’t even allow you a taste, because she is mine.”

You are still clinging to his back, and with the echo of his last three words you feel a fire ignite in your veins. You are his. He had never abandoned you.

Those men in that box lied to you, tried to take you from Marcus, and then tried to taint your body with their touch.

Now you want them humiliated.

“Take me, Marcus. Right now,” your hoarse whisper reaches his ear. "Let them watch."

He looks down and meets your eyes just long enough for you to see the dark determination mirroring your emotions. Your lips crash together hungrily in a kiss of tongues and teeth. You nip desperately at his lower lip before he pulls away, his hand holding you by the back of your neck.

“On your knees, my Dove” he growls into your mouth.

At the sound of Marcus’s words, the molten feeling grows low in your belly and seeps to your core. You turn to face the podium and drop to your knees. You feel him lower himself behind you, his thick, muscular thighs bracketing your own, his sword discarded in the sand next to you.

One broad hand grips the scruff of your neck and pushes you forward, the other is dragging up the skirt of your gown. “See how she gives herself to me,” Marcus grunts loudly as two of his fingers notch themselves at your dripping entrance. “See how she’s ready and waiting for me?”

The tips of his digits trace along you slick velvet folds before slipping them inside of you, pumping them in and out, gathering your excitement.

Marcus withdraws his fingers and holds them up towards the imperial box, spreading them so the audience can see your sticky arousal clinging to, and strung out between them.

Gasps ripple through the crowd, a mixture of shock and intrigue. You can hear laughter mingling with the disdainful whispers, but all eyes are locked on you.

“This,” Marcus declares, “is yours to witness, Emperors. This is the fire that burns in her belly, for me alone.” 

He reaches around to grip your chin in his hand, forcing your head up to meet their gaze. “Let them look at you, let them see your face.” he growls quietly, his breath hot against your ear.

“Look at her,” Marcus rumbles with a possessiveness that vibrates through your being. “Look at how she craves me.” His fingers return, but this time not to tease; this time they plunge deeper.

A moan is torn from your throat loudly as his fingers stretch you open. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you, it’s like the first time all over again. You arch your back, pushing against him as he quickens his pace.

Laughter erupts from the imperial box, Caracalla’s voice cutting through the noise, “Look at her! The whore— with such pathetic displays of pleasure! Whore!” His words drip with disgust, but they only fuel the fire inside you.

Anger curls around your spine and you push harder against the next thrust of Marcus’s fingers, forcing another moan from your mouth.

Geta’s voice rises, his expression tight. “You truly wish to save her? She is nothing but an animal-” 

“She is no animal - but she has a beast to defend her.”

You gasp as you feel Marcus rub the tip of his cock along your slit. He circles your clit once, twice, three times before he’s positioning himself at your tight hole. 

Without warning, without any gentle words, he bottoms out inside of you. It feels like your eyes are going to fall out of your head, your teeth almost slice through your bottom lip as the searing stretch surges through your entire body- from your hair to your toes. 

A cry cursing all the gods, the Emperors before you, and the Emperors yet to rule falls out of your mouth as Marcus sets a bruising pace. 

“You see how she lets me claim her?” Marcus pumps his length in and out of you harshly, his thighs slapping against the back of your legs, his free hand gripping your waist now. The hand that had been cupping your chin now finds your hair, keeping your head out of the sand and tilted up to look at the pale, pitiful men gazing down at you. 

You can’t keep quiet, and it doesn’t really seem like Marcus wants to you to the way he he’s fucking into you so brutally. You cry out, scream his name, beg for him to slow down. You whimper for mercy, but it’s starting to become delectable- the way you stretch around his cock. The entire length of him sliding inside until his drooling tip grazes your cervix. It’s jolting, and has you seeing stars shoot across your vision.

In the background, mixed in with the rest of the noise, the announcer says something about the way Marcus is taking you, it’s muffled by the pleasure coursing through you.

Marcus came down here to fight for you, to keep you safe. He did care and he didn’t want to lose you and watching him defend you—

That’s why you were dripping before the bear was even dead. Watching Marcus in action, fighting to keep you alive– as furious as you were at him – had ignited a fire inside you. 

That flame was engulfing your entire body now as he led you to an orgasm in front of what felt like the entire world.

Marcus grips your hair tighter as he slams himself inside of you over and over. Every single fiber of you can feel Marcus as your walls flutter around him. “Sucking me right in,” he growls. “Taking me so fucking well. Tell them who you belong to,” Marcus barks at you, the hand on your waist connects with the fleshy globe of your ass with a loud crack that cuts through the air. 

“M-Marcus– oh gods, Marcus! You, I b-belong to you” You keen loudly, trying so hard to keep your eyes open so you can stare at the men who tried to turn you against the man inside of you now. “I’m yours… forever.”

It’s just a throaty cry of his name as the defined ridge around the head, and each inch of his throbbing length that follows strike and then glides across that sweet spot inside of you. It’s bliss as you come undone on him, feeling like you’re being torn in two; and then three, and then put back together again by his cock. 

“That’s it, my perfect girl,” Marcus grunts in a throaty rasp that makes your toes curl.

“Silence that whore!” Caracalla screams in his high-pitched crying tone. “Where are the Praetorian guards!? They’ll have something to stuff her mouth with—”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hanno stand with his weapon clenched in his fist. “Any man that comes down here has to fight me first,” he declares, the blade gleaming in the sun.

The announcer starts to speak, but Marcus reaches for his sword in the sand, pointing the blade up towards the podium.

"One more word and I'll take your fucking tongue." Marcus bellows.

The threat silences the announcer, but the crowd's roar only grows louder.

You can barely focus on anything beyond the sensations coursing through your body as Marcus continues to thrust into you relentlessly.

Marcus drops his sword, his other hand leaves your hair to wrap his arm around your waist. He starts working on the fasteners of your gown at the shoulders. “They’ll see all of you—everything they can’t fucking have,” he’s growling, nipping at your earlobe as his fingers frantically start pulling at the fabric covering your chest. “They’ll never have you. You're mine."

He does own you, and it's the most exhilarating feeling in the world. The undeniable connection between you is only heightened by his rough handling of your body; as if he owns every part of it without hesitation or reservation.

His hand grips your breast tightly, his thumb circling your nipple, which has already hardened. "You like this, don't you?" Marcus growls against your neck. “Like being on display for everyone?”

You groan in agreement, arching your back into his touch. "Yes," you moan, clenching your eyes shut as he hammers his hips into yours. "Please don't stop-- want them to see"

Marcus's free hand grips your hip, pulling you closer, and his other hand He pulls back and looks up towards the imperial box, “No one will touch my Dove again. Anyone who tries will be torn apart without hesitation.”

You force your eyes open, meeting the shocked and furious gazes of the Emperors. You bite your bottom lip, eyes rolling back in your head like you’re possessed at the bliss, at all the good feelings Marcus gives you.

There is a commotion, the brothers command something of their guards but Marcus's booming voice quickly catches their attention again. “You make so much as one move, and you will die where you stand.”

To punctuate his point, Hanno gives the blade in his hand a twirl, pacing back and forth between the seats of the Emperors, and yourself and Marcus.

A defiant smirk tugs at your lips. Your fragile alliance with Hanno had paid off and now he was protecting you and Marcus in this erotic display of defiance. You lean back against Marcus's strong chest, your hands feverishly searching for something to hold onto as your sweat drips down between your breasts.

Marcus runs his tongue along your shoulder, up towards your neck. "That's it, my golden girl," He growls in your ear. “Show them "

Your body trembles, every nerve alight with pleasure as he claims you in front of the entire arena.

He pulls out of you suddenly, leaving you bereft and gaping— but before you can grasp what’s happening, he’s on his feet, moving beside you with his hands in your hair turning you to face him.

Marcus stands before you, his muscular body glistening with sweat in the harsh sunlight. His cock, slick with your arousal, juts out proudly as he grips your hair tightly.

"Open your mouth," he commands, his voice hoarse with lust.

You obey without hesitation, parting your lips as he guides himself to your waiting mouth. The salty taste of yourself on his length makes you moan as he pushes past your lips. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, savoring the combined flavors of yours and his

"Look at her," Marcus calls out, his voice rough. "See how she serves me willingly. This is what true devotion looks like." 

You hollow your cheeks as he pushes deeper. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you fight through – determined to please him. Your hands grasp his muscular thighs for support as he sets a punishing pace.

Marcus throws his head back, chest heaving as he nears his peak. "Gods, you're perfect," he pants. "My beautiful Dove."

He leaves your throat with a sickeningly arousing wet sucking sound, one hand stays in your hair as the other wraps around his throbbing cock.

Marcus strokes himself rapidly, his eyes locked on yours as he pants, "Open up. Show them who you belong to."

You obey eagerly, tilting your head back and parting your lips. Your tongue darts out, desperate for a taste of him. 

You moan when his seed coats your lips and chin, some of it dripping down onto your exposed breasts – marking you. You savor what landed in your mouth, swallowing as you gaze up at him adoringly.

Marcus releases your hair, his hand moving to cup your cheek tenderly. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, smearing his release further. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and something deeper - perhaps love.

The crowd's roar grows deafening, a mix of shocked gasps and lustful cheers. You can barely make out the Emperors' enraged shouts over the din. None of it matters - your entire world has narrowed to the man before you.

Hanno clears his throat softly, breaking the silence. "I believe it's time you take your leave, girl," he says quietly, eyes darting between you, Marcus, and the imperial box. “Go home to your farm?”

The Emperors seem to recover from their shock, Caracalla's face contorted with rage. "Seize them!" he shrieks, but his guards hesitate, wary of challenging the legendary general.

Marcus turns to Hanno. "Are you with us?"

Hanno twirls his sword, "I've just been waiting for a chance to escape this hellhole. I'm with you."

Marcus nods, then turns back to you. "We need to move fast," he says urgently, pulling you to your feet. “Lucilla has already left to find refuge in the ships.” He grips your hand tightly as he surveys the arena. 

The Emperors continue shouting orders, their guards now following their command, starting to close in on the three of you.

"We have to go – now!" Marcus shouts. “Barbarian, can you clear us a path?"

Hanno nods, a wild grin spreading across his face. "With pleasure."

tag list: @gothcsz @almostempty @joelmillerisapunk @untamedheart81 @lilac-boo

(tell me to add you or take you off or to go eat bricks!!)

big thanks to @creepycorbeaux for basically co-writing this chapter with me. I needed her.

and thanks @mrsmando for my beautiful mood board (it took me so long to finish this chapter because I would just stare at how perfect this fits their story)

[froggerland]

Another fact about me is that I looooove winter sports. And today my two braincells touched and I experienced a thought: What if the cold boys liked the ice. The ice liked them. Terror modern AU winter sports edition!!!

(Did a bunch of sketches before I realized they all wear protective headgear (obviously) and it's kinda not fun if you can't even see who it is. So I just colored the sketches where you could see ppls face)

Jopson and Gore are doing biathlon (couldn't be bothered to figure out how to draw the guns that's none of my business)

Charles De Voeux does as well <3 (I hate him)

Tozer does alpine skiing (I'm deliberately ignoring the fact he's canonically good at shooting he's built like the guys who do alpine skiing so)

Blanky is a retired professional alpine skiing athlete as well, he still roams around the slopes bc the ppl love him still although he's kinda weird (he loves to fuck with Tozer)

Thomas Hartnell does snowboarding (idk it just felt right)

Armitage, Peglar (our short king) and Fairholme do ski jumping (I forgot that Armitages job is literally something something weapons but idc he has scrawny ski jumper vibes)

Ned does Skeleton (?? idk about this one) (dont pay attention to the arms pay attention to his handsome face)

Hodge and Jirv pilot a bobsleigh

And my magnum opus big brain idea: FITZCONTE ICE SKATING AU?????? HELLO???????????????

Feel free to add your own takes on who would do what if you have any opinion at all bc I feel like its a very niche european thing to be this serious about winter sports avshhshs

[peachhcs]

i love your wonder years works!! i feel like you write young and pining will and samy sooooooo welll 🫶🏽 would love more of them and their friends in highschool they are so cute - (i just reread the jealousy blurbs). you are so talented 😊!!

aww wait i’m so happy to hear that bc i loveeeee writing the wonder years so much and i always feel like people don’t like it as much 🥹🥹 anyways you ask and you shall receive!!

i feel like most of the pining happens senior year because that’s when both of them have feelings for one another so here’s new year’s eve 2022 in samy’s basement where she has a bunch of people over to celebrate and her breakup with kevin is still somewhat fresh but will’s feelings are at an all time high (and so are samy’s!!)

warnings??: underage drinking, will lowkey being a perv by looking at samy constantly but like not because he’s also a 17 year old with a huge fat crush on his best friend

au masterlist

will seriously shouldn’t have come to this because how was he supposed to stay away from samy on new year’s eve with alcohol in his system knowing how good she looked standing five feet away from him, but she just broke up with kevin not that long ago and will was pretty sure it was really wrong to drunkingly make out with her like they sometimes did because she just went through a breakup.

he was so fucked.

the blonde tried keeping his eyes on gabe and drew where he stood with them talking in their small circle, but the urge to look over at the brunette was so much stronger. too strong. he peaked a glimpse and every time his breath hitched in his throat and his brain short circuited for a good five seconds when his eyes traveled the expanse of her outfit. her, marcie, lauren, and riley had a mix of similar outfits on, something they planned. will’s gaze was trained on her black mini skirt that was reused from halloween and her shiny, sequined long sleeve top where he could totally see her black bralette underneath.

he needed to stop looking. he was being weird and creepy and someone was definitely going to clock him on it if he didn’t quit it, so the blonde tore his gaze away again and tried focusing on the words leaving drew’s mouth.

“honestly, i think we’re gonna win the whole thing,” the taller brunette mumbled taking another sip of his drink.

will was pretty sure they were talking about u18 worlds in may. “i mean why wouldn’t we? we’ve got the best lines, the best defense, the best players. we’ve got nothing on them,” gabe listed off on his fingers.

the other thing will couldn’t shake from his mind was that kevin was here. samy still invited him since they were still friends and will knew he didn’t really have anything to worry about with him anymore, but he just couldn’t really shake the feeling of all three of them being in the same room knowing how tense things used to be. kevin was on the other end of the room talking with his soccer friends, very oblivious to will’s erratic heart beat and racing thoughts.

“i need another drink,” will muttered because he couldn’t focus on what his friends were talking about and he also just wanted another excuse to walk past samy and check her out without being too obvious.

he squeezed past her and she happened to look at him as he passed. she flashed a wide smile at the blonde and his knees almost gave out seeing that smile directed at him.

“you having fun?” she turned to talk to him for a second.

“yeah, this is great,” will nodded, forcing his eyes to stay on her face.

“i’m glad!” she turned back to her friends leaving will to continue to the drink table.

he mulled over his options when he got there wondering which one would maybe help him forget the feelings he had and make him remember that samy was strictly his best friend and would never see him as something more than that.

he hoped the high noon would do the trick.

“hey,” the voice snapped the hockey player from his thoughts. kevin stood beside him, eyeing the drinks too.

“hey?” will wondered what he wanted.

“maybe i just see it more now that samy and i aren’t together, but you’re really obvious,” kevin said.

“what?” the blonde was caught off guard.

“come on, man. it’s so obvious you have a thing for her. you’ve been staring at her for the past like..hour,” kevin laughed and will’s face flushed hot with embarrassment. was he really that obvious?

“well she doesn’t like me. she never will,” will took a large sip of the high noon to wash that thought away. he didn’t notice the way kevin grimaced because he actually did know how the soccer player felt, but he wasn’t that shitty to tell her secret.

“i mean how do you know that? you’ve never asked,” kevin said instead.

“you really think i’m gonna go up to her and ask? real funny, man,” never in a million years would will put everything on the line to ask samy if she liked him the way he did.

“i dunno. what’s it gonna hurt?”

“our friendship?” that felt like a given, but kevin just shrugged.

“all i’m saying is that i think everyone at this party knows you like her.”

“why are you being so nice to me? i thought you hated me,” will found this interaction weird because him and kevin have never been able to talk to each other like this.

“i’m just trying to make up for being shitty to you. trying to help is all,” the brunette mumbled and walked away before will could respond. he pinched his eyebrows together, watching as kevin went back to his friends in the corner.

what he didn’t know was that samy had been watching their entire interaction. as soon as kevin approached, her eyes were on the two like a hawk. she knew her and kevin were fine and he promised to leave will alone, but she still worried he’d get set off and do something stupid again. surprisingly, nothing happened and maybe kevin was gonna chill out from now on.

“you’re staring again,” marcie mumbled when she caught her friend’s eyes on will’s back. samy quickly snapped her attention back to the group.

“sorry,” the youngest hughes blushed.

“this is totally your chance. he’s been staring at you all night,” riley poked.

“no he hasn’t. you’re delusional,” the brunette shook her head, never believing her friends when they started saying stuff like that.

“i’m being serious! he totally thinks you look hot at least,” riley continued meaning samy’s outfit. all the soccer play did though was shake her head.

“he’ll never see me like that.”

“what about all that shit him and kevin argued about? wasn’t that about you?” lauren piped up.

“kevin says a lot of shit. will and i are just friends,” samy mumbled, drinking the rest of her “tropical, fruity” punch as marcie liked to call it that was just a huge mix of different chasers and vodka.

“i could not be friends with someone that i kiss when i’m drunk,” lauren shook her head, but samy quickly shushed her.

“shut up. we don’t talk about that,” her and will hadn’t even done that since summer because of her thing with kevin.

“i can’t wait for the day you two finally put your pride aside and realize how much you like one another,” marcie mumbled.

“i’m getting another drink,” samy determined because she desperately wanted to escape the conversation and will still hadn’t moved from the drink table.

she shuffled her way over there and leaned her head on will’s arm. “found you again,” she looked up at him with a smile.

“hi again,” the blonde chuckled, but internally he was freaking out.

“can you pour me so more punch?” samy pointed to the big bowl and held her cup out. will nodded.

“are you having fun at your own party?” he wondered

“i’m having a blast. best new year’s party don’t you think?” she wondered and will nodded again. he handed her cup back, unable to stop his gaze from dropping below her face for a split second to stare some more.

“i don’t think i’ve been to one as good as this,” the blonde admitted because he hadn’t really been to a party like this before. being in michigan with samy meant that she introduced him to a lot of random house parties her high school friends were throwing on the weekends.

“i’m honored. you flatter me,” the youngest hughes giggled.

that urge will’s had all night only got stronger standing so close to samy. he wanted to kiss her so bad, but he had to think better of it because he wasn’t a rebound and they were drunk (not like that’s ever stopped them before though).

“found anyone to kiss on new year’s yet?” samy teased and will flushed.

“i haven’t. have you?” he asked and hoped she would say no because will did not think he’d be able to handle it if he saw samy kissing someone that wasn’t him.

“nooo, i probably won’t kiss anyone. i’ll kiss my myself,” the girl giggled, the alcohol starting to talk for her.

“self-love is very important,” the blonde smiled hearing her little laugh and then took another big drink of the high noon because he couldn’t be having these thoughts.

if will had any new year’s resolutions it was that he needed to stop believing he had a chance with samy. maybe in 2023 he’d finally find someone that would get his mind off of her. (wrong)

“guys, it’s almost midnight!” someone yelled and then everyone turned their attention to the tv stream of the local ann arbor news that did their own countdown.

samy grabbed will’s hand to the tv so she could see better. the boy flushed feeling her hand in his and even worse when she didn’t let go.

“ten, nine, eight, seven..”

the countdown faded out of will’s ears because the only thing he could focus on was the girl beside him jumping with excitement about the new year. she squeezed his hand tighter when they got closer to 1 and everything in the hockey player was short circuiting.

“..three, two, one! happy new year!” the whole basement erupted in cheers as everyone jumped onto one another in excitement.

a few people kissed because of the alcohol buzzing through their systems and will was caught off guard again when samy jumped into his arms screaming in his ear.

“happy new year!” she smiled widely and will couldn’t help but smile back.

“happy new year,” he said and his stomach flipped when he watched her gaze drift down to his lips briefly. was he seeing things or did she actually do that?

he didn’t have time to question it because samy jumped towards her friends before he could even say something. will watched her hug marcie, lauren, and riley when his friends went over to him. they excitedly jumped onto his back and the boy because immersed in their excitement, the thoughts of samy almost kissing him leaving his brain as he celebrated with the boys.

[mcdisonbciley]

maddie: i can't speak for her and what she wants to do, or for you. i can only speak for me, and right now i'm single and having fun. all three of us are, but i think the situations for each of us are very different. maddie: i still don't think i've really processed it at all. even though i cried when the new first came through, i still hasn't really set in that we're going back for the last time soon. i'm going to do better about going home more often, but it's going to be hard knowing that i won't be in nc/sc for months at a time anymore. oh yeah, i did a bunch of guest episodes on shows. even an arc for like six episodes on black lightning. you definitely need that, i don't think you'd survive if you had to share living space with them all 😂

sabrina: because renee already told me it probably wasn't a good idea for her and i to do anything. sabrina: oh, i didn't know that about him. that's crazy. bet it's gonna feel weird that it's ending soon and you won't get to be there as often anymore. or i at least hope that's not the case. i didn't realize you'd had other roles before that one, but that makes sense. my family is all moved out here now, but i at least have my own place for my own sanity.

[punkslovepoints]

✨2024 Steddie Fic Recommendations

template from Steddie Support Podcast on twitter

Summaries and links below the cut

Born Under a Bad Sign by @pinkie-quinns [27k E]

Eddie Munson lived. He lived. So why does he still feel very, very dead?

No Loose Ends by @thisapplepielife [7k E]

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles. "Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks. And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states. "Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that. Or: Waiting out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Big Talk by @occasionaloverboy [29k E]

The first time Eddie flirts with him is a surprise. The second time is a fluke. After that, it gets a little hard to keep track.

Sports Performance by @entanglednow [18k E]

Steve discovers something unexpected while waiting alone in Eddie's room, and struggles to be a supportive friend.

i got your name stuck to my tongue (only call me when you're drunk) by GhostEnthusiast [22k E]

5 times Steve fools around with Eddie Munson at parties, and 1 time he invites him to one himself.

Exactly What It Looks Like by @bilbosmom-belladonna [31k E]

Steve makes a face at Eddie. “You've imagined doing stuff with a guy?” “Yeah, man,” Eddie replies, spreading his hands wide. “Doesn't everyone?” Steve tilts his head to the side as he thinks. Maybe not very often, but his freshman year when Davey Riggs had been swim team captain? Yeah, he had definitely imagined some stuff that had made trips to the locker room kinda awkward. “Yeah, that's true,” Steve answers, nodding. “I wonder why everybody acts like it's so gross, though.” In the summer of 1986, Steve and Eddie have some perfectly normal fun between a couple of perfectly normal dudes.

Path to the Rainbow's End by gayhandshake [17k M]

Eddie always believed he was getting out of Hawkins. He knew he was meant for something else, even when he thought he only had two options: a bus to the state penitentiary like his father and his father’s father before him or a plane to Los Angeles, paid for by a record executive with a fat bank account and a vision. Turns out, there was a third path, and when he left town, it was in the driver’s seat on I-90, trailing behind a brown BMW carrying the Wonder Twins, with most of their shared possessions shoved into the back of his van. The van survived the drive to Rochester, but just barely. He coaxed her along with soothing words and stroking hands until she rolled to a stop two houses down from their new place, like Flipper dying in her trainer’s arms. He didn’t cry then, because they’d done this song and dance before. He did throw a very mature, contained temper tantrum at the mechanic the next day. -- Eddie knows exactly who he is. Definitely. Probably. Maybe.

Somewhere it Hides a Well by @teddywesworl [8k E]

Eddie ducks his head briefly, a gesture that doesn’t quite fit with the guy’s overall image: buzz cut, obvious ink, scars on his jaw. A bunch of his shirt buttons are undone, and Steve can see a white tank and a gold chain underneath. “Yeah,” Eddie says. “I’m at a shop in Uptown.” It’s rote, sounds sort of disinterested. Steve might think he’s being dismissed if Eddie Munson’s eyes weren’t raking over him, lingering at his jawline, his throat, his hands when he adjusts his cuffs. Or: At Lumax’s wedding in 2003, slutty bisexual physical therapist Steve sets his eye on inked up tough guy mechanic Eddie and peels away his mask.

You Could Call Me Nancy by @pinkie-quinns [5k T]

Steve and Nancy get back together. And Eddie, well. He does what any respectable person would do in that situation. He drinks about it.

Restorative Violence by @anniebass [30k E]

Unlike his uncle, Eddie still dreamt of bigger things, the fame of a musician, good cars, big-ass mansions, talked about it in the hospital bed, as with the trailer’s ruin came hope of relocation, the first step toward betterment, maybe a house a touch less vehicular, one maybe not so weiner-shaped. Still, his new room failed to convey a fulfilled dream; the unpacked boxes stood in unstable towers, dust covered the guitar, only the dirty dishes seemed to be a movable component of a life sustained, not lived. It didn’t seem like Eddie was fine at all.

Late Bloomers by @arimakes and @mojowitchcraft [65l E]

Two men walk into a gay bar. One thinks he’s straight, one thinks he’s vanilla. Both of them are idiots.

Steve & Robin by @audacityofbird [120k M]

It's 1995. Two sets of best friends find themselves in Chicago and in each other's orbit as they try to figure out how to best navigate the world, work, relationships, family, and friendships in their mid-twenties. Chrissy is starting a new job in a new city with only an old friend to help tether her. Eddie tries to help his band find their big break. Steve tries to get his matchmaking family off his back and Robin hatches a plan to help him do that in an unconventional and seemingly logical way. They're all finding themselves and their way to each other. So, who cares if they stumble along the way? At least they have each other.

Don't Hate The Player by orphan_account [6k M]

Steve Harrington doesn't really play video games. Not his thing. Somehow, however, he's ended up in an utterly delusional, one-sided relationship with an NPC.

The Fire And The Flood by @entanglednow [6k E]

Steve's already spent half a day dealing with the kids misbehaving, he really doesn't need Eddie making his life harder.

would you be my friend? by @their-we-go [8k M]

"Honourable Justice Harrington, I have perjured myself on this stand today, and I would like to recant.”"Honourable Justice Harrington, I have perjured myself on this stand today, and I would like to recant.” “Dude, what are you—” “I lied, man. I fibbed. I told a story. I—” “Alright, okay. I get it.” “I don’t read, uh. Gay porn for the articles.” “Okay.” “I more read it for the, you know.” He scrubs a hand over his face. Wishes he could hide. “Gay porn.” (Or: scenes from Eddie's life after the world doesn't end.)

let's exchange the experience by @jamiethegardener55 [22k E]

"I propose a game," Eddie announced. Steve zipped his coat back up, wincing. "I'm not playing your dungeon game." "Not," Eddie said, "a tabletop game, thank you, Steven. A challenge. A bet." He felt his eyes gleam. Steve gave him a wary look. "What kind of challenge?" "I," Eddie said, clapping his palms together, "will be Steve Harrington. For a whoooole day. And you will be Eddie Munson." -- Eddie and Steve play a game. They have to do whatever the other says for the day. Neither of them has ever heard of BDSM. Things go really well.

Big wheel keep on turning by prufrocks [28k E]

A few months after Starcourt, Steve moves out of his parents' house and into a friend of a friend's empty RV. What follows is a long six months of unintentional minimalism, scraping by on two bucks an hour, and staring at the specter that haunts the other side of the trailer park. Meanwhile, Robin gets a song stuck in her head. A season four rewrite.

--------------------

Then mine from this year:

Pebble [5.4k words, Rated: T]

“Right, well when the male finds a female penguin he likes, he brings her a pebble. It shows the female that he wants to build a nest with her, that he wants to have her as a mate. So I thought -” Steve raised an eyebrow, “You want me to be your mate?”

flood water (a series) [17k words, Rated: E]

“Nothing says last day on earth like trying to fuck your straight friend before disappearing the next day.” Eddie skips town a month after he gets out of the hospital.

how to wake a dead boy (with art work by @bleedingoptimism) [33.4k words, Rated: M]

Steve’s been able to bring dead people back to life since he was a child. It’s a secret he’s managed to keep from everyone, hiding his power under a layer of detachment from the world around him. Then Eddie dies and Steve has a decision to make. A Stranger Things canon-compliant story based on Pushing Daisies lore.

Queer Lodgings [WIP words, Rated: E]

After almost dying in the Upside Down, Eddie wakes to a high school diploma, a place at community college, and - yet another surprise in this new sunshine and rainbows existence that is somehow his life - Steve Harrington as a roommate. It's a double bi awakening!

[thedumbasswitaphone]

I think it would be really fucking funny if dick , donna, wally and garth did drugs with roy , except from them it was a after a though mission sit in the titans tower and get high and have fun with your friends evry once in a while kinds thing and for roy it was a developing addiction, anyway so roy mentions to Jason that they used to drink underage and do drugs and stuff , and Jason absolute losses it became he's all like "dick Grayson , nightwing, my big brother dick Grayson ,wait your serious no way Goldie did that you've got to be bullshiting me" like Jason technically knows that dick isn't like golden returns or perfect boy all the time , okay, but he didn't expect him to have done DRUGS, and he breaks into dicks apartment to confront him about is just for dick to go "lol yea we did. Got high and drink a bunch , what else did roy tell you" because dick is sure Jason won't tell bruce or alfred and he doesn't care if the rest of the batfamily find out , and Jason stopped freaking out just to starts laughing his ass off at dicks reply even if it was just to hid his shock

[bluecapsicum]

But, but, I thought you were truly painting what you saw in the real world. I must have missed it when I followed you, but I really believed.

So, do you look up stock pictures and use that as inspiration? I always imagined you took your own pictures while out and about and then worked off of those.

I'm sorry you feel conned, it's never been my intention!

This has always been a fictional project about the journey of a reporter and an expert experiencing a wide spectrum of events together, which is why I always introduce it as meteorological fiction.

Most of the reports are based on things I've seen and pictures I've taken myself, but occasionally, usually for rare phenomena, I do take inspiration from other people's pictures. For instance, I've sadly never seen northern lights for myself, nor have I ever witnessed red sprites.

I always try to make sure the events are possible at the time when I draw them (the moon phases are always accurate), and for the vast majority of the reports, I speak from experience. But in the end, exactitude isn't the goal for me, it's storytelling, even if it's subtle.

I think the whole thing probably used to be more obvious, and I did make a text adventure game as part of this project in 2022, but I definitely wouldn't expect anyone to know the extended lore of Reports. I'm pretty sure a bunch of people still think they're photographs anyway.

Sorry again though! It's really meant to be a bit of fun. If it makes you feel better, I'm very invested in this weather stuff, so I do my best to imagine what it'd feel like to witness these things. Also, please know that if I had ever seen this in person, it would be all you'd hear me talk about to this day:

[tobuo]

hey so !!!! @mstalltale your point is really interesting and got me thinking so i wanted to add it on to this post. hope you don't mind! i still don't think they're going to bring him back as was, or at least, i'll be really disappointed if they do for the reasons i touched on in my original post, and a few more here, because i think it would cheapen the sacrifice BUT this whole bit of lore is really interesting and touches on a whooooole bunch of other lore i enjoy....... so now im speculating for fun tehehe

SPOILERS FOR OCHKANATLAN, 5.3 ARCHON QUEST & MAUVIKA'S STORY QUEST + SPECULATION ABOUT CAPITANO, XBALANQUE & THE PYRO SOVEREIGN UNDER THE CUT.

FIRSTLY im not sure his lack of face reveal means much. i think it was probably hoyo wanting to let the player know just how horrifying the curse is by explaining capitano as being eroded/rotted beyond recognition... but feeling it might be too graphic to show. but i could be wrong!

as for the crucifixion nails in his symbol, for me that kind of alludes to the fact that capitano died for someone else's sins. mauvika was the one who used the ruler of death's power, she was the one who committed that "sin" and whose life should have been forfeit as a result, but capitano took her place and i guess, in turn, resurrected the lord of the night/the night kingdom that wouldn't have survived if not??? maybe?? you could also say he died for all the other souls that were with him too, to grant them peace they otherwise wouldn't have been given

that said, i definitely think it's interesting that hoyo went the route of having his body remain rather than doing what they did with signora lol. i don't think you're wrong that it's intentional and i DO have a few different thoughts on this sjkdfhsdf. the first is what i believe is most likely, but your comment got me thinking about the others just for fun lol. either way tho, i don't see capitano coming back.... but thats just me

SPECULATION #1 - NATURE OF NIGHT KINGDOM

my main theory would be because the basis of the night kingdom is as a kind of..... liminal space for souls to exist? "between body and mind, life and death" in the words of the genshin wiki, so it makes sense that capitano's death was a spiritual one rather than a physical one, especially considering his curse and that he kinda merged with the lord of the night who rules over the night kingdom. mauvika also mentions that for those afflicted with the curse of immortality that being removed from the physical plane is a kind of peace... i cant remember/find her exact words here im sorry to me that implies that he, and other khaenri'ahns, can't physically die... but that their souls... can? or at least can transcend to some other place where they might escape the curse. if we then also assume this means the khaenri'ahn curse is a physical affliction it makes sense that his body would remain since ronova "upheld" the rules and the curse. that's the whole paradox and this is partly what makes me think he isn't going to be "resurrected". the whole point is that his curse/body/life force is what's sustaining the lord of the night.... him coming back.... would undo that..... his cursed body is the thing sustaining the lord of the night, so it has to remain there. THAT SAID i am definitely interested to know how much of capitano/thrain remains, if any, since he transferred his life force to the lord of the night. she says to mauvika not to seek traces of him... but does that mean his soul is gone completely? WHO KNOWS!!! i'm also SUPER interested to know what this situation will mean if the traveller/their sibling ends the curse of immortality too

SPECULATION #2 - VESSEL FOR XBALANQUE

this is a bit more out there skdjfhsdf but...... the crucifixion nails in his symbol.... which then leads to the idea of resurrection. BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE CAPITANO'S? there are a LOT of mentions of xbalanque, and he even "appears" in mauvika's story quest. temporarily. he himself says the body he appears in he's "only possessing [it] temporarily" and that the borrowed body is "a bit lacking when it comes to exercise, and hasn't really trained any aspect" but that he has "[his] own plans". AND WHO JUST HAPPENS TO HAVE A FREE BODY RIGHT NOW POTENTIALLY? PRIME REAL ESTATE. MY MAN IS EMPTY one of the main things we also know about xbalanque is that when he killed xiuhcoatl (the pyro sovereign), xbalanque was "revived from the flames". there's a lot of mentions throughout ochkanatlan especially about the everlasting flame of life/primal flame. when the traveller awakens to the pyro element, we even make offerings of burning flint which has a "fiery pulse" to capitano on the throne of primal fire. in ochkanatlan??? i know mauvika's story quest kind of presents it that this one day trip was xbalanque's reward for the "bet" he made with ronova and that he's not planning to return because he "gave" the rest of the "life force" ronova granted him to mauvika after their duel so its highly unlikely but......... the possibility is out there....... especially since, as you said, death isn't an absolute in natlan and the ode of resurrection does still exist in some capacity. maybe the throne of primal fire works as another kind of ode of resurrection??? i definitely think it's intentional that we offer those things to capitano's body/the throne. okay SO maybe i just want playable xbalanque because his lore is SO INTERESTING TO ME and he seems so funny but this is a fun theory all the same

SPECULATION #3 - VESSEL FOR PYRO SOVEREIGN/XIUHCOATL

even more out there...... but this speculation involves much of the same ideas as xbalanque being ressurcted using capitano. some ppl in natlan do think xiuhcoatl is still in the volcano, just in some kind of statis/hibernation or that a husk of him remains after xbalanque killed him but............. again........ if the primal flame/sacred flame/flame of everlasting life etc. has the power to resurrect....... who's to say it's not possible to reawaken the pyro sovereign this way..................... using the throne of primal fire....... ESPECIALLY SINCE THE ARCHON'S SEAT WHOSE POWER COMES FROM THE SOVEREIGNS IS THEIR "DIVINE THRONE".......... lol i don't think this one is super likely, i tend to lean more towards the idea that our little saurian companion will somehow be related to or become the vessel for the pyro sovereign (they are "the chosen of dragons" and have the "flamelord's blessing" after all) BUT we do know from neuvillette that the sovereigns can be reborn in human form............ and its just a fun theory to imagine lol

anyway if anyone has thoughts on this, i'd love to chat about it more!!!!!!

ppl complaining abt capitano ~dying~ like it isn't the most thematically appropriate end to his story. none of the actions we've ever seen from him have been for personal glory or gain. it's perfectly in keeping with who he is to sacrifice himself for a cause like this. it was his choice, on his terms, with the added poetic justice of spitting in the face of the very being who cursed him and all the other khaenri'ahns after suffering for hundreds of years.

like............. yeah it's sad that he's likely never gonna be playable, but honestly i think his storyline was so narratively satisfying and a really gorgeous, fitting end for a really interesting character

[sukii77]

got stuck in traffic with nanami and gojo

Nanami sat in the driver’s seat, Gojo was sprawled out in the backseat, sunglasses on with one leg kicked up against the window.

You were squished in the passenger seat, scrolling through your phone.

“We’ve been here for forty-five minutes,” Nanami said, sounding annoyed. “Forty. Five. Minutes.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun, Nanamin,” Gojo chirped from the back.

“Do not call me that.”

You stifled a laugh, "it's not that bad."

“Not that bad? We’ve moved three meters in forty-five minutes.”

Gojo leaned forward, draping himself across the center console. “Hey, hey, guys! I have an idea. Let’s play a game! I Spy!”

Nanami’s left eye twitched. “Gojo—”

“I spy… something gray!” Gojo said, grinning widely.

You glanced out the window at a bunch of gray cars, gray asphalt, and gray skies. “…Everything?”

“Ding ding ding! Y/n wins!” Gojo clapped his hands.

Nanami exhaled deeply through his nose, muttering something about “absolute children” under his breath.

After another ten minutes, Gojo started tapping on the window with one finger.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Nanami’s grip on the steering wheel visibly tightened.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Gojo,” Nanami said slowly. “If you tap one more time—”

Tap.

Nanami turned around so fast it was almost impressive. “Do you want me to throw you out of this car, Gojo Satoru? Because I will.”

“Whoa, easy there, buddy. Violence won’t solve traffic.”

You snorted, covering your mouth. “Honestly, it might solve this traffic.”

Eventually, Gojo pulled out a bag of candy from his pocket.

“Where did you even get that?” you asked.

“Doesn’t matter. Want some?”

Before you could answer, Gojo started throwing gummy bears at you and Nanami from the backseat.

“Stop!” Nanami said, irritated.

“I’m feeding the peasants!” Gojo joked.

One gummy bounced off Nanami’s forehead, and the silence that followed was LOUD.

“Gojo,” Nanami said seriously, “if you do not stop this instant, I am leaving this car and walking home.”

Gojo leaned back, “But then who’ll drive us, Nanamin?”

You laughede at the nickname, and Nanami shot you a sharp look.

“Don’t encourage him.”

Finally, traffic started moving. Slowly, but it was progress.

Nanami visibly relaxed. From the backseat, Gojo spoke up. “Hey, what do you guys think about road trips? You know, like one of those cross-country ones—”

“No.” Nanami cut him off immediately.

“Absolutely not,” you added.

Gojo pouted, “You guys are no fun.”

The car inched forward again and Nanami looked less irritated.

But only until Gojo started humming the same five notes of a song over and over again…

“Gojo.”

“Satoru.”

“Please.”

You are never sitting in a car with Nanami and Gojo again.

[roseofbattles]

Continuing my year end tradition of finding things to celebrate :)

Greatest Hits of 2024:

1. moved back across the country :) Excited to start a new year in a new city

2. One of the highlights of this year was reading all 9 Temeraire novels - they have an endearing cast and are a very fun re-imagining of the Napoleonic Wars but with DRAGONS

3. A new apartment. This goes with moving but I am excited to have a new space and hang up art and spend time there, it's very cozy

4. I had a lot of fun with my garden this year, growing lots of tomatoes and drying a bunch of herbs for later

5. I got to spend the end of the year with my family and see some dear friends which has been so nice. I haven't been home for the holidays in a few years and it was especially nice.

6. Grateful for my friends in California and all the last minute things we did this year including a bonfire on the beach and tattoos, visiting weird restaurants, playing games and many many trips to the thrift store. I've been very lucky and I miss them already

7. I did some fun fandom writing events this year with @royaibigbang and the Temeraire summer exchange which is something I haven't done a lot of but which was very rewarding

8. Grateful for my cat

Historically I have done ten of these but this year felt hard in a lot of ways. I'm grateful to have made it to the end with my health and my sanity

Going into 2025 feels scary and I'm incredibly anxious over what this next year might hold but I have good people in my life and I hope that those connections will stay strong and provide light even when things are hard.

Tagging anyone who want to participate by sharing some victories from the last year or whatever made you happy:)

@littlewitchbee @fullmetalscullyy @lantur @firewoodfigs @nightofnyx8 @janetfraiser @possumsinatrenchcoat @baudleaires @musing-and-music @ssadropout @morganathewitch @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee @captainlaurence @chewytriforce

[roseganymede95]

Puck was such a fun + genuinely terrifying villian - could you talk about how you developed him as a character?

Well, first things first, Puck a real person in Sandman canon, and that was too tempting to resist.

More seriously, I didn’t want the antagonist to be a witch again. We did witch antagonist in canon AND in Grenade, I was done with witches. So I went hunting for other options, and there was Puck on a silver platter.

A lot of how I wrote him is based on my feelings about A Midsummer Night’s Dream; namely, that play is only a comedy because the viewer is used to zany romance genre tropes. The actual text is about a little cohort of uncaring immortals roofie-ing a bunch of people for their own amusement. Oberon, as a prank, drugs his wife to fall in love with a donkey-man. Everyone in the fairy court belongs on a watch list.

There’s also a couple lines in the play implying that Queen Titania has some fascination with India. So you combine the fairies’ general lack of concern with things like consent with Titania’s personal interests, and you have a situation that is extremely dangerous for Charles in particular.

Puck isn’t the source of the danger, but he is its envoy, he doesn’t care at all about what happens to the boys while he’s trying to arrange some entertainment for his queen. I think indifference is one of the scariest qualities a villain can have, and I think it worked out!

[strange-anni]

What happened to Nancy Wheeler on Wills 8th birthday?

Long story short I do believe that the events of S3 namely Mayor Larrys Fun Fair/The Mind Flayer/ The Battle at Starcourt Mall could all give us some clues as to what really happened when Will got 8 years old in 1979.

Read this post if you want to know more. If you don't you may not understand what I'm talking about in here.

This time I mostly want to talk about Nancy Wheeler and what I believe could have happened to her on the 22nd of March 1979.

The Hawkins High Marching Band was at Mayor Larrys Fun Fair in 1985. This likely means that wherever Wills birthday party took place in 1979, the band was there too. Probably not directly because of him but they were at the same place at the same time.

Since the Marching band was there, Robin was most likely too as well as Vickie.

But

In S1 Steve also assumes Nancy took part in band practices. She denies it though but I don't fully believe her. I think Steve is right that she was in band at one point in her life and therefore was also present when Will had his birthday party. I'll get into why later.

That doesn't bode well considering that it's likely something horrible happened at the same day. Something Will only has vague memories about. El distinctly remembers killing a bunch of kids in the lab in S4. Even though it turned out that she didn't do it and it was 001 who did it, I do think there is a bit of truth to it as these memories are most likely altered memories of Will.

So a bunch of children died back then and it's the year 1979 we are talking about. Nancy, Jonathan, Robin and Vickie would have only been about 12 years old at the time and Steve about 13 years.

Kids.

This is what Robin had to say when she and Steve were drugged and in the elevator with Erica and Dustin. Ominous to say the least.

But back to Nancy

I think she got shot in the chest.

Her sweater is white and it's pure fuel but it's not coming off. The fuel blood just won't come off.

And it's Larry who gave it his best shot at the Fun Fair. Larry who shares the same name with Lonnie. Both are short versions of Lawrence.

Nancy like many others got killed on that day but something else also happened. Will got a box with 120 crayons and drew a big space ship, a Rainbowship. Joyce told us it's the only thing Will wanted to do. He didn't care for his new Star Wars toys and only wanted to draw. If that Rainbowship is so important, it's for a reason I think. It's purpose is to bring a lot of people into space/the UD to save them and then bring them back to earth so they can live again.

Karen is right I think. Nancy did get swapped in the hospital. She died there and then seemingly came back to life but it's not really the same Nancy. She looks like her and mostly acts like her but it's not her.

It's the Nancy that got transported back from Space/the UD with the Rainbowship after she died in the hospital. She was swapped.

She's what an eight year old Will believed her to be like. His best version/interpretation of her along with some deliberate alterations. If being in band was what killed her on that day, she can no longer be in band. So that aspect of her life got erased. It's why I don't believe her when she said she wasn't in band. She can't remember ever being there and this version truly wasn't but the old one was.

The new car which looks just like the old car but isn't the old car. A metaphor for many things in this show

[aus-from-undertale]

Weavetale

So, if you've been here for a while, maybe you would realize that i don't really recommend ask blogs anymore for a few years now, not because I didn't want to, but because is a difficult thing to recommend when its not organized.

Like what am I supposed to say? Read the whole account that's been running since years ago? Good luck?

But I wanna break this rule I made for myself this time because this is a really cool au!

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After a collision that happens with every au and multiverse, a lot of people lose their home, family and friends.

The group that this au is centered is a found family after this disaster, formed by characters that we already know and OCs!

And they are answering questions 🤘

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Honestly, this is a pretty fun ask blog and premise, but if someone asked me what I like the most about the au, it would be the mods💕

The mods are so good at writing and presenting their characters with witty conversations and jokes. At the same time, they are clearly passionate about the au and their OCs, so it's really touching to me.

I won't tell you to read the whole blog haha, but I recommend you the check out the aus existence at least by reading their pinned post:

But of course, check out the @askourweavetalecharacters account if you want to get to know more about the characters!

When I saw the premise of a bunch of au colliding in one it really reminded me of Warverse! You should check it out :)