#for some reason i remembered this post and felt like i needed to clarify that

[unholyxvoid]

bringing this back to say that if talking in a fancy/formal manner makes you feel more divine thats great and im glad you can express yourself in that way , but not doing so does not make you any less divine . how you talk does not matter in the slightest and does not affect what you are

saw something that irked me so to any divine beings out there; you dont have to talk all fancy and proper to be divine . not having a big vocabulary or having typing quirks or talking like a normal human does not make you any less divine . fuck anyone that says you dont seem like a divine being if you dont talk like a priest or poet . talk however you want , it doesnt change what you are . you are still divine

[rampant-testiculitis]

rereading and rereading that post

[taylorftparamore]

the way some of yall talk about palestinian lives is giving white saviourism. you talk about these folks like they havent been fighting back and minimize & diminish their efforts of survival. like. palestine DOES still have adults in it fighting to protect their children & their neighbors’ lives. they are passing down their culture to save their culture from destruction & begging us to uplift their voices. maybe we as westerners need to actively check how we talk about this conflict, hm?

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[michellemouse]

Ok, I've been wanting to make this post for quite some time and I think it's time to do it

I will expose the person who harassed me and my friends during 2023

PLEASE READ THIS POST IT IS IMPORTANT, I NEED PEOPLE TO KNOW THE HARASSMENT I EXPERIENCED SO MUCH WITH MY FRIENDS

Her name is Tamara (I don't know if she changed her name but I will continue to call her by her old name anyway)

I remember meeting Tamara from a video Mausy shared at the end of February (specifically this video but that doesn't matter)

At that time I wanted to be her friend because we both shared the same interest, Wednesday's infidelity. The peculiar thing was that she was fascinated by Sui. Mouse x Wi Bf ship, so much so that when she met Mausy she started to hate her for THAT REASON

So, you're going to fight with someone just for a ship????

She started making videos making Mausy look like the typical "slut whore" from those cheap Yaoi hard gacha life stories

(Only example I found because the rest was deleted)

The funny thing about all this was that I, being her friend at the time, tried to convince her to stop doing it (since at that moment, Mausy meant a lot to me) and well, Tamara stopped doing it... BUT IT DIDN'T EVEN LAST 3 DAYS WHEN SHE DID THE SAME STUPIDITY AGAIN

A friend of mine named Skylar had found out what Tamara was doing with the character of Mausy and started to hate her. At that moment I was hoping that at least things would get better and that it wouldn't end badly (spoiler: everything went to shit-)

When it was Skylar's birthday, I had made a fanart of her along with Mausy and I as a birthday present. And it seems that Tamara felt so, SO bad when she saw that drawing that she made two videos saying that she prefers her "old friends" to her current friends.

I clarify that I had not included it for this reason:

Skylar didn't like Tamara and it would be bad taste to add a person you don't like to your own gift

https://youtu.be/oN9SWrWDHww?si=4rJPO3_lPUUyU2fY

In this video Tamara plays the victim and lies to her own subs that we were bad influences and that we were also damn ignorant (which is a lie)

I did all this FOR A MISERABLE DRAWING!!! A DAMN DRAWING!! You must be crazy to make a whole drama for a shitty drawing

When the war between Skylar and Tamara started, Skylar's brother named "Pow Mick" saw that his sister was suffering from cyberbullying, and he joined the drama to defend her. Tamara found out about Pow Mick's existence and dedicated a great deal of time to dedicate like a trillion videos to him killing him and ridiculing him globally (ALONG WITH HIS SISTER)

In all the videos, Tamara portrays herself as the poor victim who did nothing and just wanted to be happy with her "perfect" ship and her "old friends"

She thinks that others are just toxic people who aren't cool at all and that she's a "me nice" and also a "me cool xd" (I'M SORRY BUT HER TERRIBLE GRAMMAR KILLS ME JSJSJAKA)

One detail I want to mention is that when I was friends with Tamara, I really liked the character of Jur (who would basically be Wi Bf's rival). He was even going to be Stressed Mouse's opponent in my WI mod Mortimer Mix. During that period I had created an oc called "Catalina" (I'm not going to lie that it's literally Cloud xd) where I used to put her together with Jur

When I fought with Tamara, she used my Catalina oc to make a video where Jur cheats on her with a character that no one knows who she is

(The bad thing about this point is that I lost the drawing where I had created Catalina)

I don't know how she came up with the idea of making an OC that was not at all a copy of the character of Mausy (her name is literally Mausie...wow)

With that Oc she made videos saying that Mausie was better than Mausy

I don't remember if it was true that Tamara had made a video where she shipped Mausie with SUI.MOUSE... let's see, let's see, let's see... are you telling me that you hate a ship of a girl but at the same time you create a ship that is exactly the same as what YOU HATE?? how beautiful is hypocrisy

The worst thing is that one of Tamara's friends had also joined the drama to defend her and would also take on the role of Mausie, and she, along with Tamara, would copy the concept of "virtual sisters" that Mausy and I used to be

(Another detail I want to say is that Tamara's friend used to comment on my posts, making complaining comments like: "why do you make so many fangirls?", "I don't like that you make so many fangirls")

When she realizes that she can stop consuming content that she doesn't like to watch other content that she does like:😱😡😰

Tamara also made videos shipping her haters

So much so that Skylar mentions to me that she also shipped her along with HER BROTHER (AND THE WORST THING GETS WHEN YOU FIND OUT THEIR AGE, Skylar being 4 years older than her brother... 16 and 12 years old)

THIS MAKES TAMARA, IN ADDITION TO BEING A HYPOCRITE, ALSO A PROSHITTER!!! HOW DISGUSTING!!!

Extra:

A video where Tamara is accused of making an Islamophobic video

A video where she kills Mausy

Video showing how extreme Tamara is with other people's thoughts/ideologies Ok, it's fine that you want people to respect the LGBT community but... Was it necessary that way?

Yt post where Skylar exposes Tamara

Exposure of all accounts of Tamara + her accomplice:

Tamara's first account where she made most of the videos mentioned above

Tamara's secondary account (I don't know anything about this one)

Tamara's current account (It seems she lost her first account)

Possible account of the girl who took on the role of Mausie and who defended Tamara

PLEASE REBLOG/SHARE THIS POST, I NEED HELP TO GET MORE PEOPLE TO SEE THIS!!!!!

[a-sad-mage]

Shane Colony Headcannons #4: Back to Brain Rot [Edition]

☆ Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ☆

To clarify, the Shane Colony is what I've taken to calling the Slugs that live at the Hideout.

And yes, this was inspired by a comment on part 3, by the lovely loveart14

Also, preemptive thank you to the SlugTerra Section of the FandomWiki for all the names of the slugs I was able to use

-

I've mentioned this before, but Burpy is the defacto pack leader of the Shane Colony, followed by Doc, then by Stinky

Why Stinky? Simple, he and the rest of Prontos slugs have technically been apart of the Shane Colony the longest

Movie nights without their Slingers

Movie nights with their Slingers

All reasoning be damned, the next time Burpy sees Will Shane, it's on sight

In fact, the next time any of the Shane Colony see Will Shane, it's on sight

There are a bunch of hides and hangout spots around the Hideout, both inside and out

Makes for a killer game of hide and seek for the Slugs

'Court trials' are a spectacle

For starters, they have a whole mini court set up, gavel and all

Sometimes the Shane Gang watch and are completely dramatic about it. Like gasps and everything

Trixie has recorded trials, and edited the video like a Judge Judy episode to post on the SlugNet

The Slugs have pranked their Slingers, but sometimes it leads to an all out prank war between the Slingers because they didn't realize it was the Slugs

Doc is the mom friend

Burpy is the dad friend

Because of nesting habits, the high nesting slugs, like Granukers, Hoverbugs, and Arachnet's, tend to drop things from their high perches.

There is a cupboard filled with treats, and it's under lock and key, fortified like Fourt Nox

There have been many attempts to break in

Joules, Spinner, Buzzsaw, and Lerry were really close to getting in one night until Eli caught them.

Noodle, despite being a Flopper, is well loved :) he can no wrong and when he does, he blames Stunts, and no one questions it.

Mo is a dumb little thing, but Lerry and Suds have taken to teaching him things

Mo is a surprising fast learner, he's just uncoordinated because he's constantly seeing triple thanks to his Aura Sight

Dozer has purposefully triggered his Velocimorph inside the Hideout. His Slinger and his friends need to sleep damn it

After the 'Lightwell' all the slugs where extra carful with Burpy, much to his annoyance

speaking of the 'Lightwell' the Shane Gang was extra attentive to all their slugs, keeping their eyes pealed for any signs of their light going dim

Beeker has put out one to many fires that Burpy, Burner, and any of the other fire slugs have started

Beeker now charges extra Slug Pellets at meal time as compensation

Glimmer had flash banged people on accident and on purpose.

They play high stakes hot potato with Rookies exploding balls

The Slugs activity gamble

Eli can and will spend most of gold on his Slugs before he spends anything on himself

All the Slug's have their own preferences when it come's to entertainment

some of its weird

Bludgeon, Kord's Rammstone, its surprisingly really good at art

When Junjie's slug's joined the Shane Colony they have a horror movie night

it goes as well as you would expect

Joo-Joo actually cried after being cured from his Ghouled state

this is because, he was semi-conscious through the 20 years Junjie was forced to be the Dark Slinger, and having been with Junjie's family for so long, the poor little guy was so distressed by what was happening, Joo-Joo felt helpless. So seeing his Slinger, his Partner, his Person finally free, on top of no longer being Ghouled brakes the normally composed Slug and Joo-Joo just sobs

Yin(the Slicksilver from SFS) is baby

Torch sleeps in the oven, it gives Pronto a heart attack every single time until he remembers the Slug is a Forgesmelter

First Rule about Shane Colony Fight Club: You don't squeak about Fight Club

Doc is done with everyslug's shit when it comes to Fight Club

'You wanna brawl? fine, but don't expect me to do anything about it' [Translated from Slug]

Trixie's slugs are surprisingly the most tame when compared to the guys,

and yes, this includes Junjie's slugs because those little guys have no chill

Junjie's slugs can brew tea

Kord's slugs know how to sabotage a Mecha

Pronto's slugs, when motivated, can run a mullite million gold marketing scheme - don't ask how, they just do

Trixie's slugs know how to work a camera, and video editing software, they have made, hundreds of videos they post on their own SlugNet account

Burpy will never admit this to his fellow slugs, or even Eli for that matter, but, he actually used to like Thaddius Blakk, like before he went off the deep end.

Blakk used to be a good slinger, and the Infernus could over look some of the questionable things Blakk did. but at some point, Burpy just couldn't anymore. this is a secret Burpy will take to his grave.

[mrsmangi]

hi!!

i js realized and UGH I FEEL SO STUPID BUT i realized how much of an impact fanficiton can actually dent to the whole "some people are forgetting luigi's inspo and purpose and the whole crux of this situation" im not sure if it is disrespectful that's why i wanted to run it by to u guys but we can totally bring things to perspective on luigi's current conditions. how scared he is, how ignorant MEDIA is in general, we can totally do it and honestly we already are!! most of the fanfictions ive read are raising awareness about the struggles of going through traumatic surgeries, making people feel seen about injuries they had that are similar to luigi's!! i just want to clarify that im not saying that EVERYTHING we choose to write to be apart of this community must be sort of tasked to carry the weight of the world at all times and have this altruistic can-do attitude about it. what im saying is that we all require something real even if it is in our fantasies - real as in something that is close to us as humans and ive realized that there is always and forever will be a certain standing that we take against oppressors that quote and quote "work in the shadows - making them systems of cowardice" most importantly ive noticed that us as a community loves fanfiction that humanizes luigi - we live vicariously through the name of "y/n" and that is just us feeling human and through this fandom we create a community an institution with a base for smart thinkers and creative writers i think luigi has inspired a lot of people and it is important to note that people especially creators - those who know they belong or has hosted a blog or whatever type of creative craft of their that hones their skills are easily touched by topics that wake them up and inspire them - those are topics that are hard to forget

so i just wanted to share this message! and im sending this as Phoenix (pseudonym) to my favorite luigi writers, you guys dont have to respond politically or feel pressured to completely agree with what im saying i mean im still learning and im def a minor exposed to media so of course i am subject to multiple errors! i just felt the need to say it and im too shy to post it on my actual tumblr..

clarification: i really dont mean this as an attack or as a self-righteous claim :(( i sent this to you because i adore you and ur writing, how u see the world, how u contribute to this fandom, and how u make us feel dare i say... one with the one we are reading about!! im sorry if i said anything bad or insensitive or just offending in any way!! dont be pressured to reply to this i just realized that it's important for me to share my voice even if i think it doesnt matter because it might matter to others who would like to read it

by the way!! i got these ideas a lot from a book called the message by ta nehisi coates!! if you love writing you'd love this book for sure :))

i really dont mean to offend and i apologize for the long message my love!! i hope you have a great day please drink water and stay safe!!

hi, gorgeous! first of all, there’s nothing to feel stupid about! please know, in my blog, i am always open to having ur guys’ perspectives on luigi (or anything, really!), so for that i thank u for sharing it!

i rly appreciate your passion for the community and for raising awareness about luigi’s story. i completely agree that fanfiction can be a powerful tool to connect with his experiences and to humanize him, but i’ll admit, i’ve also found myself hesitant at times to write about him for similar reasons.

to me, there’s a fine line between exploring his story and romanticizing him in a way that might overshadow the real, political, and lawful consequences he’s currently facing. it’s important for everyone to remember that luigi is NOT a perfect person. i don’t mean it in a bad way, i just mean that like all of us, he has flaws. he is not a fictional character. he’s a living, breathing, and currently incarcerated human being. but personally, i believe those flaws are what make him such an interesting and complex character to write about. in my most recent work, “found,” i rly tried to balance that idea. while fiction lets writers create beautiful and romantic things, we can’t forget the reality of his situation or replace it with fantasy.

we should never sugarcoat the situation luigi is going through. i actively do my best to not do so either. i find his darker, more flawed aspects to be what makes his story so compelling, and i think that grounding my writing in that reality helps me explore him in a way that feels more authentic.

i appreciate you sharing your thoughts on this, and i encourage you to keep researching, reflecting, and learning. i’ll def do my best to do the same, and i’m so glad to see how deeply this community values meaningful discussions like this.

i see you and i hear you. 💕🫶🏼

[eddiessluttywaist]

as if (part 4 based on angst ending)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: continuation of the angst ending of as if, moves away from how eddie has been acting just so you know 👀

pairing: ex-bully!mean!perv!soft!eddie munson x fem reader

word count: 10,964 words

content/warnings: swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18/19), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, brief threats and violence, rejection, angsttt, depression, very brief mention of unhealthy eating habits, heartbreak, yearning, anxiety, arguing, crying, near death experience, regret, isolation and loneliness. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i’m sorry this took me so long skbvdjkk enjoy the suffering. credit to whoever owns/posted that picture ^ it’s not mine :)

part one - part two - start of part three - angst ending to part three

*

Eddie Munson is an asshole.

He’s a cruel heartbreaker, that’s for sure. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He’s ruined love for you.

As much as that sentiment reeked of teenage melodrama, it’s still true. He’s ruined mean guys for you cause you know what to expect from them, and he’s ruined sweet guys for you cause you know better than to know what to expect. Eddie is someone who finds a way to be so sweet and charming for that subtle kind of control, just to turn out to be an asshole through and through. Every nicety and moment of tenderness was only to keep you on the hook for a good fuck; and if things hadn’t spiraled into an apocalyptic shitshow, he would’ve been the one and only reason for your aching misery.

He’s a lot of things. You could go through a list of adjectives that would make your mother gasp and cross herself.

He’s a life ruiner in so many ways—but he isn’t a killer.

Despite how he treated you, you liked to think you still had a good sense of his heart—even if he refused to give it to you the way you would’ve so readily given him yours. He’s smug and rotten, but murder is not something he’s capable of. Some violence? Probably. Maybe. Given the right circumstances. But he wouldn’t kill someone. So you were one of the few who weren’t surprised when news came out that he wasn’t to blame for everything that happened. Sure, there were still plenty of kooks who remained certain that he used his “ties with Satan” to open up a portal to Hell, but as more and more came out about that lab near the quarry—the rarer those types became.

By now nearly everyone’s forgotten about him, or at least that’s how it felt to you. No one talked about him—they didn’t even seem to think about him—but not you. Despite everything, his memory seemed to live on in your head. On repeat some days.

Just to clarify: he didn’t die. His memory didn’t need to be kept alive because he wasn’t—he was pretty damn close when he was found (at least from what you’ve heard), but he wasn’t dead. However, that didn’t change the fact that the people of Hawkins liked to act like he was. He was nowhere to be found for starters, and everyone left in town seemed to appreciate things that way so they didn’t have to address him.

The turnaround was baffling to you. How his name never even came up, and when it did people grew uncomfortable and tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. Even you—someone who decidedly hated his guts months before the day Chrissy Cunningham was found dead—thought he deserved something better than becoming a banned topic after what this town put him through.

You could remember the day he appeared on the news like it was yesterday.

You had been curled up on one corner of the couch of the living room, your mother on the other end, and your father in his La-Z-Boy. It was pitch black in the room with the only light source being the colorful and fuzzy glow of the television. It was unfortunately your mom’s night to watch her program so of course you and your dad were already half asleep by the time her show was suddenly interrupted.

“What the-!” your mom had gasped. “I wanna know what happens! Oh those darn news… people…”

She had trailed off as the reality of the emergency newscast sunk in, no longer reaching for the remote but settling back into her spot instead.

You didn’t really know Chrissy. She was popular and well-loved, and had hundreds of friends. You definitely weren’t one of them, though. Whether it was secretly too beneath her deep down in her innocent demeanor, or if you simply weren’t interested in gravitating around her enough for her to truly take notice of you. She was a sweet girl though. She was a senior like you and the few times you two interacted, she was nothing but kind. And even if she hadn’t been, she still wouldn’t have deserved what happened to her.

You remember your mother nervously toying that necklace she always wore as she watched the news with big eyes. The way your dad sat up more and gave the screen his full attention. The tension and anxiety that made the air in the living room feel heavy; and when you thought your throat couldn��t get any drier and your heart couldn’t race any faster—Eddie’s picture was plastered on the television.

You remember the way your hearing seemed to turn into a faint buzz as the newscaster spoke of the victim’s body being found in his trailer.

“I always knew that boy was trouble.” your dad grumbled out, and you had to fight the urge to huff out a laugh and tell him he had no idea.

Neither of them knew what happened between you two or that there was even a “you two” to begin with. And you certainly wouldn’t have said anything that night because then they’d know in the worst way possible. Admitting it back then at the start of Spring Break would’ve been admitting how deeply you had fallen for someone who was possibly wanted for murder.

Even if it was never explicitly stated that Eddie Munson had shattered your heart (when you were completely falling apart just a couple months before your hometown did the same) your mom had been quick to notice something was wrong. Motherly instincts or something like that—or, y’know, just the fact that you were visibly a mess.

Even at that start of it all you didn’t want to talk about that one particularly miserable day. You would wait until it was late at night to cry into your pillow. You had briefly lost some weight since the whole situation had left you with a solid knot in your stomach, leaving you horribly nauseous and deadening your appetite. The fact that you were constantly lying about being sick to avoid school was what truly confirmed your mom’s concerns.

Sure, you could’ve had a stomach bug. Maybe that’s why you had been picking at your food at dinner. Maybe that’s why you looked so pale and tired all the time. But then throughout the school week you would keep saying you were sick, and with the state you were in she didn’t have the heart to tell you your temperature was perfectly normal. Besides, you never skipped so she wasn’t all that suspicious at first so she let you stay home. You kept lying, though, and she finally felt she had to ask if something was going on at school.

You remember that time when boy problems still mattered so vividly. When Eddie Munson was still a mentionable name, even if you didn’t act like it. When your mom was checking in on you because of him and because her main concern was still little nuances in your behavior.

“Is something going on at school?” your mom had murmured softly as she sat on the edge of your bed.

It was nighttime and the only light in your room was the faint and warm glow of your bedside table, giving a false sense of comfort to the room that was filled with memories of him. Some spots of your room still smelled like him—especially by the window where he would sneak in, and sit on to smoke. It felt like cold spots in a haunted house to you.

“Is someone not treating you right?”

“No, mom, really. I just don’t feel well.” you murmured, and she can’t help but notice how dry your lips look. That little scab where you had been anxiously biting and picking at the skin there—a bad habit that only ever flared up when you were distraught, even as a child. You certainly looked ill, but her instincts were pointing elsewhere. She insisted you drink some of the water on your bedside table before she continued.

“Well…” she had sighed, smoothing out the blanket resting over you. “Is… is it a boy?”

You remember feeling your heart temporarily stop before lodging itself in your throat. You tried to ignore that burning feeling as you avoided breaking down and confirming her worries. But fighting it off didn’t mean that lump wasn’t in your throat. It didn’t mean your face didn’t get all warm as tears began to prick at your eyes. You were oddly silent as you kept your gaze down and shook your head. You were sure you could’ve held those tears in too, but then she got you to crack with a couple simple words.

“Oh honey…” She murmured and pulled you into her for a hug.

You didn’t want to tell anyone. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t even embarrassing—it was humiliating, mortifying. So you weren’t expecting how relieving it was to sob and finally let someone know, even if you didn’t go into detail.

“I thought he really cared about me d-deep down-“ you had wailed as your mom shushed you in a caring manner and rubbed your back.

You still appreciate the fact that she didn’t push. She didn’t urge you to tell her everything, she just let you cry until you were spent and she left to soak a face towel in cool water so she could press it to your flushed cheeks. She held you and murmured reassuringly, especially when you spoke up again—your voice horribly broken.

“I-It’s not fair because he’s perfectly fine and I… I’m…” you choked up after your tone got high with emotion before crumbling again.

“I know, honey, I know… it’s never fair…” she whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay. It feels like the end of the world now, but before you know it it’ll be a little bit better, okay?”

She had pulled back to look at you and wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “And then it’ll be better after that, and even more after that. You’re going to keep healing, I promise.”

In hindsight she wasn’t wrong, but there had still been so many days where you wished Eddie Munson would turn up dead for what he did to you. And now you felt horribly guilty for those thoughts after he had been so close. Even though you still despise him deep down, you hate yourself a little bit too. For letting him in, in the first place. For falling in love and for admitting it. For falling apart because he didn’t feel the same. For wishing he would drop dead.

And there was another thing that burned away at you. Right next to the fact that no one mentioned Eddie, was the frustrating fact that Jason was still talked about and practically canonized. There were portraits of him and Chrissy in local churches and in Hawkins High and sure maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but why wasn’t anyone talking about how he put fire under that ridiculous manhunt? To urge everyone to find Eddie and do who knows what to him?

Steadily approaching a year since Hawkins broke open, you’re scowling as you walk past that portrait of him in school. Having to repeat your senior year after the disaster threw everyone’s educational progress off the rails, you had to deal with that picture a lot. You turn your gaze elsewhere as you head to your last class of the day, and even that little glimpse of his image sparks up memories of his crazed state.

*

Jason had an inexhaustible vengeance, and refused to let anything—or anyone—get in his way. He had to find Eddie. He had to make him pay.

You didn’t know it at the time, but he had been hunting down Eddie’s closest friends and band mates to get information out of them. That’s how he found you.

“Where is he?” Jason shouted in Gareth’s face as he gripped him by the lapels of his cut up flannel.

“I don’t know!”

“Where is he!?”

“I don’t know!” Gareth insisted before Jason hit him again.

While a restrained Jeff shouted at him to leave his friend alone, Jason tossed him into his drums. A cymbal crashed while the set dispersed in different directions and Gareth was left lying on the floor of his garage.

“It’s gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!” Jason rose his voice again, holding Gareth down by his back and crushed his hand between his sneaker and the concrete floor. There was an audible crunch as Gareth cried out in pain.

“Dustin!”

“What?”

“Dustin Henderson!”

“What?” Jason repeated, urging him to clarify.

“Dustin Henderson!” Gareth shouted again, face twisting in pain. “Man h-he was- he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him! Maybe he found him!”

“See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Jason taunted, but kept pressing his foot onto Gareth’s hand before finally stepping away.

“O-or y/n maybe, I don’t know.” Gareth cried out, cradling his hand that was pulsing with pain.

“Who?” Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked back at him.

Jeff spoke up for him, repeating your name in a panic.

“Y-yeah maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her around him in a while, b-but I caught them fooling around in Eddie’s van once,” Jeff rambled on “And he was constantly messing with her. He… he might be with her. Or she might know.”

The more he thought about it, the more Jason remembered the occasional moment where he would see Eddie tossing things at you in class or pushing up against you in gym. Back in the car, Andy and Patrick chimed in with other things they witnessed. Eddie feeling you up. Eddie shoving you or knocking your books out of your hands. Eddie harassed you constantly. Maybe even being tutored by you (according to Andy). If you couldn’t join them through a mutual hatred for the metalhead, maybe you could at least be forced to give more information—especially if you had some fucked up relationship.

*

You were home alone despite your mother’s insistence to join her or your father at work. With two deaths and a possible killer still on the loose, she wasn’t wild about you being by yourself. You convinced her you could take care of yourself, especially with all the baseball bats and heavy golf clubs she kept around just in case.

Considering everything, you shouldn’t have opened the front door when someone rang, but you were so shocked to spot Jason Carver through your peephole to think about it. You weren’t impressed, even when he flashed you his best smile. You were just curious why he was here.

“Well, I’ll be quick. I’m sure you have better things to do.” he said with a soft laugh which you were sure he thought was charming. You just kept scowling.

“Yeah. I do,” you said bluntly and there was a flash of anger across his face for a moment before he filtered it through a weaker smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to know if you have any idea where Eddie Munson is.”

You can’t help but scoff at this.

“No, and I really don’t care about where he could be.”

You’re about to close the door, but he was quick to speak up again and keep your attention.

“I heard you tutor him-“

“Not anymore. Too difficult.” You interrupted, and he faltered for a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure. I know how he treated you. It… it’s horrible really.” He spoke softly and you hesitated for a moment, hand still on the edge of your door.

But then you realized something.

If he knew, then where had he been? Why didn’t he do anything? Even if you didn’t want anyone to interfere—not really. Not to mention after he broke your heart and all ties were cut, Eddie surprisingly let up on the constant harassment. It wasn’t fun anymore. Soon enough he had been avoiding you in the halls as much as you had been avoiding him, but that didn’t mean everything before that never happened. If Jason really took notice of your interactions, where had he been?

“I could tell even then just from how he acted with you that he wasn’t a good person. He’s not a good person. He’s a killer, and he can’t be out here loose in Hawkins ready to claim another victim.”

You stare at him in silence. Your lack of response is clearly testing his patience and he’s parting his lips to speak up again, but you cut him off.

“Why now?”

“What?” Jason laughed this off casually.

“Why now are you suddenly so interested in how he used to treat me?”

“Oh, well I-”

“No,” you interrupted bluntly at your swift decision and with no room for fluff. No matter how much you hated Eddie. “I’m not here for your senseless propaganda. Thanks.”

You went to slam the door, but he kept it open. It touches on a memory of Eddie doing something similar once upon a time to get to you while you were all alone in your bedroom. The only difference is this isn’t Eddie, and Jason is really starting to scare you.

You glance over to see the concern on Lucas Sinclair’s face—you recognized him from the occasional interactions he had with Eddie and then from all the excitement of that recent basketball game he won for the high school team. He was behind Jason, a little off to the side and you spotted the car in the driveway with a few others inside. The fact that he had others with him didn’t exactly comfort you.

“I just want to know where that freak is, okay?” Jason clarified with a smile as if it covered the fact that he was clearly unstable. You could see it in his eyes.

“It’s dangerous with him out there. I’m just trying to help my community.”

“Whatever, Jason. Like I said: I’m not interested in any of this. I don’t talk to Eddie anymore. I don’t know where he fucked off to.”

“I know you’re screwing him. Just tell me where your creep boyfriend is.”

This sudden flash of anger and the contents of his accusation shocked you, but you didn’t let it force your guard down.

“I’m not with him like that. Like I said: I don’t fucking talk to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jason still wasn’t budging, and you’re suddenly grateful for your mom’s incessant worrying when he took a step forward. You grabbed the metal bat your parents kept by the door right as he’s parting his lips to continue speaking.

“Get off my doorstep. Get away from me. Or I’m using this, Carver, I swear to god.”

This made him hold his hands up in defense and start to back off again, especially as Lucas murmured a swift “C’mon, man, maybe we should just leave her alone.” A sad excuse for a kind smile curved up the corners of the blond’s mouth. It made you sick.

“Just trying to take care of my community. No need to get violent… I’m one of the good guys. If you’re sure you don’t know anything—I’ll leave you be.”

“Well I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” You snap, gripping the handle of the bat a bit tighter.

He finally started to walk off with an okay okay, but then he turned to look at you one more time.

“Be smart about which side you’re choosing.”

At that, you slammed your front door and locked it. One of the good guys, you think with a scoff. Yeah, sure.

*

Currently on your walk home, your mind is still swirling with memories of last year. You understood the need to commemorate and show respect, but the constant reminders didn’t help to move on. You hated being here. You couldn’t wait to graduate and move as far away as possible. You wanted to forget about Hawkins. You wanted to forget about Eddie Munson. You wanted to forget how close the world had been to ending.

You happen to glance up as you walk towards your house when your steps become hesitant at the sight of someone sitting on your doorstep. It was no jock ready to berate you. It certainly wasn’t Eddie.

It was none other than Nancy Wheeler.

*

Eddie was miserable.

Actually, it was beyond just misery. He couldn’t even think of a word to describe everything he had been through and everything he was actively going through—whether that was because he always failed vocab tests due to lazy disinterest or because such a word just didn’t exist. The whole experience took a lot out of him—quite literal chunks out of his body, not just emotionally.

Besides those who had become closest to him, once everyone was focused on the next suspect no one bothered to check back in with him. No one apologized for literally hunting him down with plans of… god, he didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they caught him.

After being resuscitated, he had to be holed up in some secure room of a nearby hospital while he recovered since Hawkins Memorial Hospital was too risky for him. As the days in the hospital went by painfully and with more and more news on Hawkins turning up on the small TV of his room, he wondered if karma was a real thing. He narrowly escaped death and an arrest for a murder he didn’t commit (really the only thing saving his ass coming from the insistence of his uncle and Chief Hopper when he randomly appeared back in Hawkins). It certainly made a guy think about what he’s done.

In fact, all the isolation gave him far too much time to think. Watching the news; constantly pressing the morphine button even though he knew it wouldn’t give him more; falling into pits of depression where sometimes he wished they never brought him back—those thoughts of karma came up. He would eventually brush them off as hippie garbage, but memories of you were sounding off like an alarm in his head. It wasn’t hippie garbage. The concept held some real truth to it, and he knew he deserved everything that happened after he had been so cruel to you because of some stupid, childish need for distance from any sort of vulnerability.

After realizing that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was stuck in Hell on earth with aching wounds he wished would heal faster and memories of a girl he should’ve treated better. He regretted how things ended, and wondered what it would be like right now if he hadn’t ended things with such brutal carelessness. You’d probably be right by his side and making it easier to get through. And when he thought about how much better it would be to heal with you here, something ached deep inside him that even morphine couldn’t touch. He missed something he never let himself have, and certainly didn’t deserve by this point. He knew what kinds of things mattered now, and it didn’t even make a difference because as much as it changed things for him that didn’t mean it changed things for you.

Then one night, it dawned on him that you might not even be alive.

He was sweating from all the pain and the drugs and the heat of mid September of ‘86, when it occurred to him that you could be gone. Having already established a constant pattern of thoughts that revolved around you, it wasn’t surprising that he was up at 2 AM with you on his mind but that intrusion to his pleasant memories or self-loathing put him into a panic. You could be dead quickly turned into you are dead, and he couldn’t handle it. How could he deserve to live, but you didn’t? Maybe because you deserved mercy and he didn’t. Either way, he ignored his crying nerves and scrambled for the walky talky on his bedside table.

He tried just about every channel he was allowed to use, but no one was picking up. Maybe they were sleeping, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group suffering from insomnia after everything that happened. Still, he wasn’t granted the peace of a response and he had to lay there just hoping for a chance to make things better—and worry that he wouldn’t get to.

*

The group that helped him through that horrific Spring break came to visit him when they were able to. It was typically at random, with the occasional stop at his request for certain food or begging for a distraction before he went insane. Lucas was the first one to answer when he tried the radio again early that morning, and he soothed Eddie’s anxiety with the promise of stopping by.

With Max in the hospital and still no signs of coming back, Lucas had his own need for a distraction. He trudged into the dull room Eddie was stuck in, and settled into the chair kept by the bed.

“Is she alive?”

Lucas blinked, wondering if maybe he missed something in his own fog of exhaustion and despair. Really it was because Eddie blurted out in mid-thought without the courtesy of some background, but he still grew frustrated with him. His face bunched up as he briefly bared his teeth in that split second of muted rage. One of his hands made a fist before he unfurled it to rub at his face and shake his head.

“Y/n. Y/n, Sinclair—jesus christ—is she alive?”

Lucas parted his lips and then closed them again, tired eyes staring over at the metalhead as he tried to get his mind to cooperate. Eddie nearly cracked over the hesitation, taking it as a sign that Lucas was struggling to tell him that you were gone rather than trying to remember who you were and if he had seen you around.

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” he finally murmured and a heavy sigh exhaled from Eddie’s lungs. “I’ve seen her around school. She’s alive.”

“Jesus chr—she’s okay?” Eddie was rubbing his palms over his face again, bangs partially sticking up when he pulled his hands away to gesture with energy he didn’t have to spend.

“Yeah, man, she’s okay. I think—I-I don’t really talk to her, but she isn’t injured.”

Eddie sat with that for a moment, relieved that you were alive and at least fine physically, but his eyes were still sad. Lucas joined him in this bubble of misery, the silence tugging him back to thoughts of Max until Eddie finally popped the bubble again.

“Did… did she join everyone? Y’know in the Great Hunt for the Freak?” he let out a partial laugh, but it was hollow.

“No, she didn’t buy it.” Lucas shrugged and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.

His eye stung for a moment, watered and then returned to normal. After that fight in the old Creel house, his eye was never truly the same. It healed enough that it wasn’t swollen and bruised, but it was still sensitive and it watered more often. Whenever it did, it made him think of that night and he felt as if he was being punched all over again. It made him think of Max. It made him think of Jason.

Although with the topic on you, remembering Jason made him laugh a little—a soft, amused chuckle breaking through his sorrow.

“Jason actually went to her house. I… I was still with him at that point,” Lucas flicked his gaze up at Eddie with guilt before looking back down. “He wanted to interrogate her about you. See if you were hiding with her or if she hated you enough to join him.”

Eddie swallowed, brows frowning as he waited for him to continue.

“She uh… she threatened him with a baseball bat.” Lucas laughed a bit more wholeheartedly this time.

Eddie’s head sunk back a bit in surprise, big doe eyes even wider and brows raised in disbelief. He said your first name to clarify and even though Lucas nodded, he said your full name with that same questioning tone.

“She threatened Jason Carver with a baseball bat?”

You were meek if nothing else, and as Eddie knew you—you were easy to break. Easy to bend and mold so he never considered the possibility that you were strong. That you could take care of yourself, and you weren’t as weak as you looked. But maybe it was fitting. You appeared delicate and fragile, but were tougher than you looked. Whereas he had that rough n tough, bad boy act just for it to fall apart when he found himself scrambling away from danger. He just hoped he wasn’t the reason you were surprisingly resilient—that maybe it was always there and he just never noticed.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t back off and she said she’d do it if he didn’t leave,” Lucas snickered a bit before his mood was sobered by the other side of this memory. “She uh… she was scared. He was scaring her, and I don’t blame her. He was scaring all of us…”

He was focused on his hands now, toying with them anxiously and he could hear the sigh of Eddie’s puffy hospital pillow as he settled back against it. He was letting it all sink in, and for a moment he wished he was the one to kill Carver instead of the cracking earth. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, and you didn’t deserve Jason’s intimidation tactics just because you had been caught up with the likes of him.

He hated that you had been scared, he hated that it was his fault, and he hated how much worse he felt now that he knew that you stood up for him even after everything he put you through. Maybe not so much stood up for him, but you didn’t let yourself get dragged into the accusations and mob mentality even if you had every reason to.

This hurt worse somehow, and he was bound to a new bout of pain and suffering.

*

“I just miss her, I guess…” Eddie admitted to his uncle once the topic turned to you. He felt the urge to repent and voice how badly he wished you were with him right now, and his uncle was the only one he felt safe admitting all of this to.

“The girl that you were spending time with at home?” His uncle’s gruff voice wondered, and Eddie was taken aback by the question.

All he said was there was a girl he had a thing with, which he messed up royally, and he wished he could have another chance. Nothing else, so he looked like a fish out of water now and his uncle chuckled at his reaction.

“I may not be the smartest man around, but I’m not stupid,” he grumbled out, sat in the same chair Lucas had been. “I was aware of your uh… activities.”

Wayne scratched at his stubble, embarrassed to acknowledge just exactly what his adult nephew had been up to—just as mortified as Eddie was over having to discuss sex with his uncle.

“I found her panty things stuck to the inside of the dryer,” Wayne explained further. “And I ran into her one morning when I had just come home from the plant.”

You had been leaving Eddie’s room to use the bathroom early in the morning, not realizing he would be home from a shift. You hoped that with how tired he looked that he would think it was all a weird dream or maybe that he was seeing things. After all, you were back in that room in a flash. Fast enough to be a fleeting ghost, but he saw you and he clearly remembered you. Eddie was grumbling something to himself now about you being careless enough to get him caught, but Wayne was quick to shut this down. He wasn’t known to raise his voice, and he still really didn’t, but his tone was harsher now.

“No—don’t you go blaming that girl cause you insisted on keeping her a secret. Christ, boy—you know, I thought I taught you better.”

Of all the things he could say, this was the worst. I thought I taught you better. Eddie wished he could shrink down to nothing, and he looked down at his hands in shame.

“You should’ve treated her better. That’s on you.”

“Yeah…” Eddie laughed out bitterly “You have no idea…”

Eddie sighed now, hiding his face behind his palms.

“I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know how I thought that kind of shit was important,” He rips his hands away to jerk them outwards in an exasperated gesture and looks over at this uncle. “It was fun a-and then it was too serious and I just— I— and now I don’t know why I was thinking like that.”

“Well,” his uncle started after a pause to think it over. “you may have been a grown man in the eyes of the law, but that doesn’t mean you were thinking like one. You’re still young. I…I’d like to think you would’ve learned these kinds of thing at a regular pace as you grew up, but—shit—between your parents and especially after all this-”

Wayne gestured out into the air with little energy to his casual motion.

“You’re forced into adulthood. That’s what shit like this does…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Eddie finally admits in a rush after a moment of considering his uncles words. He was sure they had some truth to them, but he thought maybe his uncle was giving him too much credit. “I really cared for her— I still really care for her. I was just… I was being-“

“Stupid? Childish?”

“Yeah, yeah okay- geez,” Eddie sighs and looks down at his hands to pick at his nails. “Yeah… all of that…”

“Well… maybe if she really means that much to ya, then be honest. Try again. Really put some elbow grease into it, and maybe—if you’re lucky—she’ll forgive you.”

Eddie scoffs out a miserable laugh and gestures around him in a way that’s far more animated than when his uncle did it.

“Yeah. Cause I’m clearly so lucky.”

*

What made all of this worse was the fact that he couldn’t even reach out for months.

Being hidden away didn’t only mean a different hospital picked out by Hopper. It also meant no calls, no letters—nothing. He couldn’t risk being found by anyone who was still convinced he was guilty. Eddie insisted it calmed down enough to come back and he had healed enough for it, but Hopper was hesitant and ultimately unyielding.

“It’s bullshit. You guys even said no one mentions me anymore, and it’s not like I’m a suspect.” Eddie ranted to Nancy during her visit, Steve somewhere else in the hospital looking for food.

“I know, but you’ll still stand out right now,” she reasoned. “If you come back, it could stir something up again.”

“What, so I never go back? I have to uproot my whole shitty life because of rumors?”

“Eddie-“ she sighed.

“No, it’s shit. It’s all shit. If I have to stay one more second in this shitty fucking room, I’m gonna start climbing the walls,” he ranted with wild eyes. “I need to leave. I need to live my crappy life. I… I need to see y/n again.”

At that, Nancy perked up. It wasn’t out of excitement, but rather something blowing through her sideways at your name. Familiarity burned at her before it all went up in flames, and she was overwhelmed with memories and guilt.

“Oh my god… y/n…” She murmured to herself with an upsetting sense of nostalgia.

She completely forgot about you in the mess of everything. At first she had been trying to keep you from learning anything that could put you in danger—doing her best to keep it between her and Jonathan. She had already lost Barb because of her own selfish carelessness, she couldn’t let something happen to you too. Then it was all a whirlwind from there and you were suddenly caught up in a past that she forgot existed. A past where a shoebox was just a shoebox.

Her eyes grow sad, her mind filling with thoughts of how she could’ve ever possibly left you in the dust. Sure, you were a newfound friend in high school—whereas her and Barb had been friends for years by that point—but that was no excuse for letting leaving you out of the loop turn into completely leaving you behind.

She’s so caught up in her own regrets that she forgets about Eddie until he’s speaking up again and waving his hand in front of her face.

“Uhh, Wheeler? Hello?”

“Oh- uh… yeah, yes.” She shakes her head, her curly hair shuffling around with the motion, her brow frowning and her lips taut. “Yes. Yes, I know her. You know her?”

“Well uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh, suddenly fearful of the rage of an old friend. “We sorta… we had a thing going…”

He risked a glance over at her, and her expression was anything but sparing. She clearly wasn’t happy with how guilty he sounded, but who was she? She abandoned you for all intents and purposes, even if she didn’t mean to. And if she had been blind enough to never notice what went on between you and Eddie, she had no right to chastise him for it even if she did have the familiar urge to get up on her high horse.

“But uh… I kinda screwed everything up,” he muttered and was back to picking at his fingers while he stared down at them. “Like you wouldn’t believe. And I just… shit, I’m so sick of this place and waiting around.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but you can’t go back to Hawkins yet.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” he snaps bitterly before cooling down again. “I just… I need to talk to her or something. If she could be brought here, or if I could meet her somewhere else. I need to fix things.”

After constant complaining and threats of breaking out of the hospital, Nancy eventually found a compromise to get him to shut up.

Steve came back around the time he had started rattling on again about how he was going to go crazy. Utterly confused as always, he was off to the side and watched as Nance did her best to calm Eddie down again. He occasionally broke through all the noise with his questions, only to get a searing glare from Nancy. At some point, he finally caught on (kinda) and only made things worse.

“Munson has a crush,” he finally said with a snap of his fingers and points at them. “That’s cute. Embarrassing, but cute.”

“I don’t have a crush, you idi-”

“Will you please stop?” Nancy hissed over at him, expression begging for him to keep out of it.

“Why am I even here?” Steve wondered out loud with a sigh and kept eating his suspicious hospital jello.

“Cause I can’t leave this fucking place!” Eddie reiterated, making Nancy groan over Steve agitating the problem that she was just barely starting to settle.

“I’ll- I’ll give her a letter!” she finally offered, cutting Eddie off mid-complaint. Her arms shot up with the raise of her voice, laughing with exasperation. “Just write down what you want to say, and I’ll give it to her!”

*

“What are you doing here?”

It came out harsher than you intended and even you wanted to flinch at your own words, but maybe it was justified. She completed cast you aside you when you lost a friend. You both lost a friend, and it seemed to make her hate you. Or at least that’s how it felt. Why else would she have avoided you? Why else would she have stopped talking to you?

“I guess I deserve that.” Nancy replied with a soft huff of a laugh, and a sheepish smile.

More news seemed to be coming up little by little about Barb. Once upon a time you thought it all came to a close when it was revealed that she died from a chemical leak, but now there was talk of things that a chemical leak would wilt in comparison to. Things that went on in your own home town that you can’t even imagine going unseen by so many. Or maybe they all saw, but curled up into their comfortable ignorance to avoid it. You couldn’t judge them—you did too. You believed every story you got, even if—in hindsight—they were obvious cover ups every time someone started to demand for better explanations.

You eye her cautiously, hoping your eyes don’t show the sadness that came with such hesitancy around someone you used to know so well.

“I uhm…” Nancy shook her head the way she always did when she needed to clear her thoughts, brows furrowed and nose briefly scrunched up as she glanced at the ground. “I had to bring this to you…”

She was looking at you again, gauging your reaction as she extended her slim arm to offer you an envelope. You’re toying with it in your hands, wondering why there was no name on the back and if you should open it now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

You look up at her now, but remain silent. What was there to say?

“I should’ve never left you behind like that... Trust me, I never meant to. I thought I was protecting you and I was, but…” Nancy’s pouty lips scrunch together for a moment. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t…” you concur, but your heart aches from the look on her face.

Sure, she hurt you but maybe you should’ve been grateful. Even if you wished she would’ve been honest with you, you knew how stubborn Nancy could be when it came to protecting those close to her. Instead of shutting her out, you extend an olive branch.

“Barb would be rolling her eyes at us right now, huh?”

Nancy stutters over her own disbelieving laugh as she glances at you through her lashes.

“Yeah, she would be.” Her nose scrunches again, lips bunched up a second time as her gaze grows sentimental. “She’d be telling us to stop being so stupid.”

“‘You both get perfect grades, why don’t you use your brains outside of school?’” You quote before laughing and she joins in.

“Guess we can’t say she wasn’t honest. She was always pretty straightforward with her thoughts.”

“One of us had to be.”

Nancy nods, and then let’s out a sigh as she rubs her arm and starts to move out of your way.

“Well, I should probably let you get to that-“

“Yeah, this letter that isn’t suspicious at all.” You joke, holding up the blank envelope and she laughs lightly before ducking her head down.

Figuring you were parting ways now, you turn around and open your front door, just to turn around in your doorway when you heard her suddenly chirp out your name. She hesitates again, but then finds her words.

“I… now that things seem to be going back to normal… I… I’d love to try being friends again. Maybe have a girls night.”

A smile breaks out onto your face, and you watch her defenses slowly start to melt away and smooth out the stiffness in her body.

“I’d like that.”

*

“What did she say? How’d she react?” Eddie asked over the radio, barely even waiting for a second to pass before continuing. “Wheeler? Hello?”

“Can I have a moment to respond?” Nancy quipped back, the crackling of the station breaking up her voice but not enough that he couldn’t hear her frustration. Not that he cared right now.

“What’d she think?”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” she sighed. “She didn’t open your letter in front of me.”

“Shit…” Eddie mutters, chewing at his thumbnail. He wanted—maybe even needed—the instant gratification that Nancy could’ve given him had she stuck around to watch you open the envelope.

Then again, maybe he was lucky.

“It— It’s whatever. I just hope it makes a difference.”

“What…what did you say to her in the letter?” Nancy asked now before shifting her focus quickly. “What did you even do in the first place?”

“Uhh, well let’s see,” Eddie looked up at the ceiling from where he was sat on the edge of his bed as his leg started to bounce. “I was a dick. Yeah… yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Don’t make me regret doing this for you, Eddie.” Nancy sighed and turned down the volume to her walky talky.

*

“I’m sorry, and I mean it. I’m capable given the right circumstances, remember?” the writing said, then there were a few words that had been crossed out and he followed those scratches of ink with a winky face, concluding with: “Leave that window unlocked, kay? I’ll be back for that necklace so keep it safe.”

Was the world falling apart all over again? Did you actually die and you didn’t even realize it? Everything seemed so unexpected and oddly… nice? Reassuring? Like Nancy showing up and apologizing. Or this letter you had open on top of your bedding.

It was part of a full sheet of paper, likely the bottom third of a page torn off. The handwriting and the comments throughout were enough to immediately make you think of who wrote this—even if he didn’t sign it. But what really confirmed it was the necklace with the red guitar pick hanging on it. You’re infuriated with the involuntary flush reaching your cheeks as memories rush in. All the times he was on top of you, that necklace hanging down and resting on your chest or nudging your chin and lips.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me.” you remember him groaning that one time he watched you sucking on the guitar pick, big eyes staring up at him while he fucked into you.

You had been folded into yourself on his mattress, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from each and every thrust that fed your greed for him but was inevitably making your body ache.

The pick that was now resting in your palm was suddenly just a thin slab of plastic. The more you thought about it, that’s pretty much all it tasted like it, but you remembered the saltiness of his sweat too. What made it so special in the first place was knowing it was his. It was such an integral part of him—it laid close to his heart where you wished to be, and it was cherished by him which you wished for yourself once too. That moment in his small bedroom when you let it slip past your lips, you hadn’t been sure how he’d react, and to be completely honest you were too fucked out to think at all. But he didn’t pull it away from you, he sunk into you with that shuddering praise instead.

The memory of his words was enough to raise your body temperature, but you fought off that familiar instinct to melt just for him. He’s an asshole. A cruel heartbreaker. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He ruined love for you.

Your stomach bends and curls enough to make you nauseous as the butterflies kick in—then why do I still want him so badly? You were so desperate to take every single ounce of attention—good or bad—that he gave you. Hadn’t you learned your lesson? Hadn’t you been practicing your borderline religious hatred for him enough for it to be real?

You’re not sure if it’s anger towards him or yourself for slipping so easily, but your blood is starting to boil. You remind yourself of all those games he used to play with you and the sentiment of him being a heartless, sadistic fuck plays on repeat in your head so that no softer thoughts can break through. Surely he was toying with you. This was a test of some kind, probably because he got bored and wanted to brush you off like some forgotten toy he wanted to use again.

You needed to prove to yourself that you can shoot him down. Stare into those gorgeous doe eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. Look up at him when he’s giving you that beautiful half-smile and moving his hands to hold your hips, and tell him to never talk to you again.

You needed to show him how it felt to be treated the way he treated you. Maybe it was childish, but some twisted part of you felt relieved at the thought of it. He deserved to have his hopes shattered when he thinks he’s getting what he wants, just to be shut out. He deserved to be humiliated. He deserved to be broken down so thoroughly just like you had been. To be broken down into such a fine dust that even when you were sure everything had been swept back together again, there were always going to be those missing bits and pieces that fell through the cracks or blew away.

As you’re toying with the necklace in your hands, you can’t help but think you’re being too immature. What about last year? Everything that happened to him? Maybe he’s been put through enough? Your brow frowns, and you’re internally cursing yourself for being so horribly incapable of making a decision.

Your hand shot up to cover your frustrated expression, a groan leaving your lips. You wanted to let yourself hate him so badly, but you wanted to feel loved by him so much it hurt.

You think it over for the rest of the night, laying in bed with your hands still clutching that necklace. You’re up for hours, only falling asleep when your body forces you into submission around 4 AM—nodding off and snapping back up just to nod off again. Your last thought is that you had to be strong—whatever that meant. You didn’t have to be mean, but you refused to cave and immediately let him have you in whatever way he wants.

He’s won far too many times, and now it’s your turn.

*

“If you get caught then I had nothing to do with this—got that, Munson?” Steve whispered as he glanced over at the metalhead, one arm still outstretched as he held onto the steering wheel.

Eddie was too busy taking in the sight of your house and breathing in the fresh night air. It never occurred to him before just how much he loved the smell of chill in the wind, like it might snow soon. Ever since last year he was realizing a lot of things he never knew he loved, and he felt both relieved and crushed by the knowledge. He was sure he knew himself before everything happened. He liked fantasy games, music, and indulging in that metal rockstar lifestyle even if it was just another fantasy he was playing into. He liked having all eyes on him as he made a scene in the lunchroom. He liked being the local anarchistic leader of fellow freaks, and ignoring any other responsibilities. He liked girls he could use like he was some big shot backstage after a show.

He thought everything was about prepping himself for that kind of life. He was comfortable being the asshole who never pulled his weight anymore than he had to if he wasn’t interested enough. He was comfortable being a runner because then he could continue living the way he was used to without anything to come in and hold him back, until his whole life fell apart. Then he was afraid for his life. Then he was afraid for that kid’s life—all of their lives, actually, not just Dustin’s. Then he was suddenly the person charging into danger to give someone else a chance.

And now he was alone. He still had his new group, but they could continue their lives while he was kept hidden away and all he had to do was think about everything he never realized he would miss. Something as simple as recognizing a familiar comfort in the smell of a soft breeze felt heart wrenching. Or laying in a hospital bed wishing he still had that one girl to love him made him horribly aware of how empty he’s always been.

“Hello?” Steve urged with an impatient tone.

Eddie glanced over at him and despite his frustration at the lack of response, Steve felt taken aback by the sight of him. Something about finally seeing him back out of the hospital made him realize just how miserable Eddie really was. Maybe it was because sadness made sense in a hospital, or maybe it was the way the moonlight hit his features the right way and he could see the deeper shadows of his face and his sullen eyes.

“Just… be quick alright? And I was never here.”

“Yeah, Hopper’ll have your head.” Eddie snickered quietly.

“I’m less concerned about Hopper…” Steve muttered as thoughts of a certain young woman being upset with him flashed through his head.

“Women, am I right?” Eddie asked playfully in a mocking manner to anyone who ever seriously shared that sentiment, leaning his body towards Steve before laughing as the brunet nudged him back.

“Will you just go?” Steve laughed it off, shaking his head and watched him finally clamber out of the car.

Eddie snuck to the side of the house where he could spot your window. It had been a solid couple of weeks since Nancy brought his letter to you, and he just wished you would let him back in. He huffed before forcing himself up to make his way towards the window, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lips in concentration. He was understandably weaker since the last time he was doing this on a weekly basis, but he pushed through and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration when it wouldn’t open. You kept it locked.

*

Your whole body tensed at the sound of someone rapping on your window, hand clutching your blanket. It had been long enough that you thought he was never going to come and retrieve his necklace, and you were irritated with your own disappointment. Now you were struggling with the sudden surge of excitement lighting up your nerves, which was making a sour combination with all that built up anger towards him.

When you finally forced yourself to look over your shoulder, you weren’t expecting how badly you wanted to cry. You wanted to let him in and just kiss him. Kiss him until you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. Hold him to you and refuse to let him leave. He wasn’t allowed to make a visit like this and leave you again—physically or emotionally. You couldn’t handle it, and you were surprised at how all these feelings presented themselves.

“What is your problem?” Is the first thing to leave your lips when he’s climbing into your room, and you might’ve been more surprised by your words than he was.

“W… what?” he laughs off your question, shocked by you starting the interaction this way; although realistically he shouldn’t have been.

“Why are you here?”

“Well I…” he rubbed his arm once he was back to his full height, scratching a bit at his elbow. “I wanted to apologize-”

“Why does it matter to you now?” you interrupt, your anger surprisingly not faltering even when his big eyes flit up to look at you sadly like a dejected puppy. You felt so broken when you finally saw him again, you didn’t know where this was coming from. Why—when you wanted him back so badly—you were being so… mean.

“What? Did you develop a conscience all of a sudden? Get hunted for months and suddenly have an opportunity to stop and think ‘hm it really sucks to be treated like garbage, gee I wonder if this is how I made her feel’”?”

Eddie’s expression hardens for a moment, and it’s more familiar to you than any bit of softness he was showing you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t exactly treated all that great in school either. I can assure you, I already knew what it’s like to be treated like shit.”

“Oh so that excuses it then.”

“I-” Eddie huffs, letting out an incredulous laugh before trying again. “That’s not what I said. Shit— I just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make any excuses. I should’ve been better to you.”

You stay silent for a moment, arms crossed as you watch how honest he looks when he’s all soft like this—with those puppy eyes hopeful and glossy.

“Why did you do it? If you really cared all this time why were you so hell bent on hurting me so thoroughly?”

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he mutters as he looks at the floor, glancing up when you scoff out a disbelieving laugh of your own. For once this kind of attitude doesn’t fuel his fire, but tamps it down. He felt awful, and what made it worse is he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe it.

“I… I thought you were cute before. Just in passing, y’know, cause you were still an underclassmen back then, but…” he glances down at his shoes. “I overheard you with your friends talking about me, and when the possibility of me liking you came up you jus’ laughed about it. Like taking an interest in me was that bad.”

His brow furrows at the memory, and just when you’re about to respond he continues to explain himself the best he can.

“I just… I don’t know, alright? It was stupid but it made me feel like shit. Like as if you would ever give me the time of day. And then it was like you were obsessed with me, and I just…”

“Wanted to make me hurt?” you question and he glances up at you briefly before nodding.

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s hopeful this is you letting everything sink in and understand where he was coming from. That you’d see his sincerity, and take him back because fuck he couldn’t stand being alone again.

“You took my heart and ripped it into shreds because of that?” you finally ask, tone sharp enough to make him cringe. “Because of something I said as a nervous sophomore who couldn’t fathom being liked? Or being seen as interesting? That’s what this is all from?”

“Well- I- but you liked the teasing-” Eddie attempted, and immediately regretted when he saw the fire in your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“I… you… you do it too! Sometimes we overreact! It happens!” Eddie finally snapped back, but tried to keep his frustration within a whisper the same way you were. “Sometimes you overhear a conversation and you make the wrong conclusion! Sometimes you don’t get kissed and you get upset! Sometimes you try to sell a girl drugs and end up on the wrong fucking side of hell opening up! Shit happens in fucked up ways! Things get messed up! I’m trying to fix how I messed up!”

He’s visibly distraught, and even though he knew this wouldn’t be easy, deep down he wished you’d melt into him like always.

“You don’t get to pull that with me, Eddie. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I really, truly am because you don’t deserve it—no matter how much I hate your fucking guts. But you don’t get to use it to distract me with it.”

“I’m not—fuck— I’m not trying to distract you with it! I’m just saying things get mixed up because of assumptions n shit like that. And I’m… I’m sorry I…” he trails off, letting out panting breaths. “You… do you really hate me?”

You hesitate, that broken look on his face almost getting to you, but you’re so sure you know better. You know how he can manipulate things.

“Yeah, Eddie. I hate you.”

He’s surprisingly quiet as he looks at you, an unfamiliar glittering to his eyes.

“And by the way, there’s a huge difference between you spending years hell bent on my misery and leaving me beyond devastated; and me giving you the silent treatment after you fucked me in the middle of the night and didn’t stick around or kiss me or make me actually feel cared for in any way.”

Eddie murmured your name, taking a step forward in a quiet plead for forgiveness. Mercy. Anything but this.

“No. I’m talking right now. Not you. So shut up and listen for once,” you choked out as tears filled your eyes, which felt oddly dissonant to your anger.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I don’t want you back in my life,” You listed off with an attitude that surprised him, even if he deserved it. “I’m sorry that Hawkins has ruined your life, but that doesn’t mean you get me back just cause all of this has given you a fucking backbone and a conscience.”

Eddie’s lips part and then close again, feeling like a fish out of water. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do with that aching in parts of his body he didn’t even know could ache.

“Doll, please… I really…” he breathes in deep enough that it turns shaky and burns deep in his chest. “I need a chance. I need a chance to show you I mean it. That I did love you back. That I still love you. That I can make it all up to you.”

You dig your nails into your crossed arms, looking away. You know if you keep looking into those big brown eyes that look so desperate right now that you just might cave.

“Well… I don’t love you anymore. So don’t call me doll, and just leave me alone.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face, reaching back to temporarily grip his hair to use up some of that rage on himself before he lets go again.

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get even one chance? Just one, that’s all I’m asking. It’s all I need cause I swear I won’t hurt you ever again,” Eddie pleads and he’s shocked by his own words, but he doesn’t regret them for even a second. “I-I’ll check in more on how you’re feeling. I’ll ask if there’s anything I can do better. I’ll meet your fucking parents. I’ll be gross and romantic and honest. Please. Just give me one last chance, and I won’t take it lightly. Just don’t lie to me if you still love me. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to be scared shitless about letting someone in so you’d rather just lie. It’s not worth it.”

He notices that last remark sparks up your frustration and he clarifies speedily.

“And I know that me being like that is the reason you’re hesitant to let me in now. I know that’s my fault, I just… shit, I need another chance.”

The fact that he was so insistent and willing to grovel gave you some comfort, but you’ve learned to not get your hopes up. You stick to your guns, but not as confidently as before. And Eddie sees that.

“Please just leave…” you murmur, even if it’s burning away at you to insist that he go.

He groans, rubbing at his face again but goes to straddle your windowsill anyway.

“I really do care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You started chewing at the skin around your thumbnail—a nasty stress-related habit you picked up from someone. You didn’t respond, just waited for him to actually go. You were too busy fighting your urge to crumble at his words that actually felt so sincere.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You finally offer in a voice so soft you might as well have never spoken up, but it’s enough to ease some of that aching he felt.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too… I was worried you wouldn’t be. Bugged the shit out of Sinclair so he’d let me know.” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“You asked about me…?”

“Yeah… you’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

You bite your lip, swallowing when you realized just how tight your throat felt. You’re unsure of how to respond without giving into him, until you catch a glimpse of his necklace on your bedside table.

“Oh uhm… you came here to get this back.” you murmur, padding over to the nightstand to grab it and bring it over to him. Eddie stares at the pick in your palm before looking at you with sad amusement.

“The necklace wasn’t really what I was interested in coming back for…” he admits with a soft chuckle, eyeing you as his smile falters. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your-”

“Keep it. Please.”

The moment is bittersweet, and you’re thinking about what it would be like if you really gave him a chance to prove he’s being honest with you tonight, but you’re too fearful to take that chance. You do hold onto the necklace though.

“Good night, Eddie.”

*

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[wolvsaalt]

Hello people! It's Dynamite here, I'm posting to provide clarification and more in depth explanation on what happened.

First off, I must sincerely thank the post owner for not bring other people's names in. My friends had nothing to do with what happened, and I'm glad to see they haven't been dragged into this.

Second off, I would like to apologize for taking so long to clarify things. The original post happened when I just got to school, so I haven't been able to respond until I got home.

A break down on everything:

The conversation started up because I asked what fanfics and recs were. I got my answer and I wanted to move on from the topic, but hatter posts a comment I barely skimmed through. I barely remember exactly what led to the argument, but I must state that Bucket never said its okay to post about sexual things, but that if people messaged them I'd be their delicision to do so, and that Hatter would most likely get in trouble for saying that.

They start arguing and I tell them to move on from the subject, which we do. I'm not at all surprised that mods came in and deleted the posts and gave us a lecture.

I don't appreciate people saying that I had a mental breakdown and went on a rant about how much I hated the rules. I did NOT have a mental breakdown, nor did I rant about hating the rules.i simply stated that I was frustrated with continuously getting in trouble, despite constantly rereading the rules and trying to abide by them.

That was only part of the reason why I decided to move the group chat somewhere more private. I know people were stalking the forum (mainly to watch Hatter), and I felt uncomfortable knowing that

And how are we being disgusting? I can provide screenshots of our group messages, where we're sharing the pups we've had, saying hi as new people join in, and some people offering some cheap wolves up for us. I'm confused on how that's considered being disgusting?

Yes, while I would've liked to include everyone, some people can't access Discord. Which led to everything blowing up at once, with Cool Guy saying we shouldn't run and that the rules are easy to follow. Cool Guy goes on to telling me that I should use a different app, including giving out my Gmail (my PERSONAL contact info), and some apps I've never heard of.

And while I'm deeply sorry some people have been cut off, it was a needed move to take things off a public place.

Crya was blocked for calling a friend a bitch because I sold a wolf she wanted to someone else. I unblocked her after a few days and invited her back, choosing to ignore the fact that after that everything she did seemed to grate on my nerves.

A few days back, Crya promised she could get me something. So I sent her the money, and she sent it back saying she didn't have it. Myself and another friend provided proof that she did indeed say she had it, and instead of owning up and taking it. She decides to post in Greek, saying she hated us and had no reason to prove her wrong.

I took her to private messages and ended up blocking her for good. Her sister, Heather, messages me, saying that me blocking her was making her depression worse and she was going to commit suicide because of me. So I blocked her as well.

Everything after that seems normal, until the fight and being moved to discord. I told everyone that if they messaged me their username on Discord, I'll invite them to the chat. Vix starts going on about Crya, and says she did nothing wrong. How crya has on her profile, stating that she has a temper and if she gets back then she's sorry. Vix proceeds to keep talking about crya, saying I should give her a chance to apologize, and that she doesn't care and I could go ahead and block her. So I proceeded to block Vix as well.

Now, I feel the need to say that I never asked anyone to spy on me. I was ready to leave those people in the past and forget about it. But I get messaged that Crya openly admitted on a public forum that Vix was a 2nd account created by Heather to spy on us. I unblocked them to see this forum, took screenshots of the post and them threatening my friend if they told me about it. And proceeded to report it to mods before reblocking them.

I have just been informed by one of my friends, that Crya, Vix, and Heather have all been banned from WD. Showing proof that I wasn't in the wrong, and neither were my friends.

I must also say, I know Cool Guy will see this. Know that I've received proof that you've been disgustingly sexual across several different websites. So how can you accuse my friend of saying something sexual on the forum (which they no way did), when you've done much worse?

- Dyna

.

[lunapwrites]

Hey so remember that time that I made that post about the sudden plot bunny about Lyall and Andromeda bonding over the corpses of their children and wouldn't that be a fun meet-cute like a complete sociopath?

Well anyway I might have written it.

Third row, fifteen down. Lyall moved through the Great Hall, woodenly scanning the bodies laid out along the floor. Children, mostly — boys and girls just sighting the light at the end of their teens. Adults scattered in between, too few to be an effective shield against their attackers, against — Christ — the Giants he'd seen collapsed on the grounds. Fires still smoldering. Third row, fifteen down. He spotted the shoes first — how many times had he heard those boots scuffing on the rug at his door? How long had it been? Not since his son had burst into the house a year before, digging through boxes like a madman. "Need a hand?" "No, I just can't remember where I — ah! There you are—" "What are you up to, lad?" "Something monumentally stupid, probably — I'll explain later, I promise." He'd run out the door then, jamming something into his pocket as he went. It was the last Lyall had seen Remus alive. He'd thought himself moderately prepared for this, having buried his wife years ago. Thought he knew grief. Remus had always been a bit pale, a bit quiet. Self-contained. But there was always a sense of movement underneath his skin, an energy about him that could burst out at any moment — for good or ill. The body at his feet lay unnaturally still, unnaturally silent, eyes mercifully closed. Not just pale, but grey-faced. Slightly blue. He felt the air leave his lungs, felt his soul wither and die, his heart crumbling to ash in his breast. That was his son. That was his son. "You must be Lyall," a quiet voice ventured. He wrenched his eyes away from what was left of his son — his son! — to see a dark-haired woman standing beside him, arms full of a tiny baby, eyes hollow as he felt. "Remus spoke of you often." He frowned. "I…" "Andromeda Tonks," she offered. "Your son married my daughter." Lyall blinked slowly. He looked down at his son's body, spotting the ring glinting on his finger. There was blood on it. And to Remus' left was a young woman with mousey brown hair and a lip ring, fingers brushing against his even in death. She was wearing Hope's ring. "Something monumentally stupid, probably." He didn't even know her name. "I had no idea," he rasped. Andromeda let out a little sigh, adjusting the baby in her arms. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have."

She offered nothing further, and Lyall didn't have it in himself to ask. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a time, staring silently down at the faces of their dead children, each drowning in their own private sea of grief until the baby in her arms began fussing. He waved his tiny little fists as he screwed his face up, turning towards Andromeda's breast as if to latch. She pulled him away slightly, frowning. "I haven't anything to feed you with," she said, and Lyall wasn't so gone that he didn't hear the double meaning in her statement. "Don't know where I'll find you a nurse on such short notice, but we'll manage." "Does he not handle formula?" "What?" Her confusion was so genuine, she could have only been from an old pureblood line. His confusion over just who his son had (apparently) married only grew. “Something monumentally stupid—” "Baby formula,” Lyall clarified. “The Muggles use it to feed babies if they can't use milk for whatever reason. We had to use it for— well. He was allergic, so…" Andromeda nodded absently. “I suppose I could try to find some. Although, Merlin knows where at this hour…” She trailed off fretfully, a tiny furrow appearing between her finely curved brows, and Lyall let out a sigh. “There ought to be a Tesco open by now; it’s near six,” he assured her, earning a blank stare in response. Oh dear. “The supermarket?” Andromeda’s cheeks finally tinged a bit pink. “Oh, I… my husband—” a ripple of pain shot across her face, and oh, he recognised that one — “he normally does the— did the shopping. He was better at that sort of thing. And then Remus took over, after…” Recent, then; poor woman. It warmed him, slightly, to know that Remus had stepped in to fill the void the other man had left. That they’d let him. “Well. I’m glad he was there, at least.” Her expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “In the end, yes.” (There was a story there; Lyall was certain he’d hear about it soon enough.) (He only wished his son was alive to tell it himself.) “Suppose I ought to figure out where to bury him now,” Lyall murmured. “Only… you know. Never thought I’d have to.” (His son!) “Them,” Andromeda corrected, meeting his gaze as she drew herself up imperiously. “Your son swore to me that he’d never leave her side again, and I mean to see he keeps his word.” She paused, her eyes drifting to her daughter’s face, and Lyall could see her walls cracking. “She kept hers, after all. Swore she’d never let him if he tried, and here we are.” Lyall nodded thoughtfully, sidestepping the landmine for now. “Alright. Suppose we can discuss that while we hit the shops, then.” Andromeda stared at him, wide-eyed. “What? I couldn’t possibly leave—”

“They’re not going anywhere, and we haven’t anywhere better to be,” Lyall reminded her. “And more importantly, we need to get this one fed. Might as well grab a bite ourselves while we’re at it and discuss details as we go.”

She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might tell him to go hang — he certainly wouldn’t have blamed her, especially under the circumstances. And yet Andromeda seemed to gather herself, adjusting the still fussing baby in her arms whose hair was, to his surprise, slowly shifting from brown to red. She conjured up a tiny hat and popped it on his head with the expert precision of a woman who had not only expected such an occurrence, but had experience managing it.

“Right then,” she said briskly. “Lead on.”

The more Lyall was learning, the more confusion was beginning to give way to intrigue: just who was this woman his son had married? And who exactly was her mother?

“Something monumentally stupid, probably —”

But Remus wasn’t around to explain anymore, so all he had — all he could do — was this:

Show his son’s mother-in-law around the Tesco, formula in hand. Show her how to prepare it. Ask her how she takes her tea. Ask her about herself, her daughter, and his son, and the little hill where he’d buried his wife in ‘82.

“She’d like that, I think.”

Marvel a bit at the fact this poor girl survived her teens with a name like Nymphadora, sweet Circe. Keep that bit to himself.

Hold the baby — Teddy, a mercifully bog standard name, that — so she can sip and cry at the same time.

Tell her about his son — not the cagey, wand-shy man she knew, but the kind and quiet, if impulsive one he’d raised. The one she laughed and said her daughter must have known.

And then— “Would you like to stay for supper?” A wince. “I appreciate the offer—” Ah, hell. He waved her off. “Next time, then.” There wouldn’t be a next time, he thought. And then… there was. Tea after the quiet funeral turned into tea every Sunday, turned into "I was heading out to the shops for a bit, would you mind taking Teddy?" turned into bringing Teddy along as he helped her carry the bags home — "I suppose I could have Featherlighted them, but there were so many Muggles around, you know?" "Oh, of course." The grief never left — not really. Only faded to a dull roar in the back of his mind that Lyall could tuck away when he needed most days. Andie understood; she felt it too. He stepped in on the days when Harry was working and Andie couldn't get herself out of bed, and she stepped in on the days when the grief seemed to stretch out so long and deep that he couldn't climb out. Tucked a baby — a toddler — a boy into his arms, just to remind him they're still here, at least a little. Teddy was growing into something not-Remus and not-Nymphadora but something entirely, brilliantly his own, and most days Lyall could have burst with the joy of it. The sorrow. She understood that too. Held his hand as they visited the graves on the hill, beneath the alder tree he'd once carved his and Hope's initials into. Four headstones for three bodies, watching the sun rise over the valley. Watching Teddy try to do cartwheels that looked more like a pisshead falling over a bin. Watching him recover, hair brilliantly blue, and try again.

"Gran! Bampi, watch!" Merlin, they would have loved him. Merlin, but he could bleed with it most days. (Andie wrapped her arms around his waist, chin perched on his shoulder as she laughed quietly against his back. Holding them both together.)

Lyall reckoned that, most days at least, they were alright.

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Okay so this post has gained a lot of traction and I've seen some questions in the tags and also a few other posts talking about the same thing so I just want to clarify what I mean when I say "Please don't reduce Lizzie's character and death to an extension of a man's" and similar things. (Just for some clarification before we start: I don't think this is some huge issue that we need to have a big fight about, but I have seen some people talking about it and I wanted to put in my two cents)

I know no one is doing this because they're misogynistic. I know there would be similar reactions if any of the men had the same arc over the season. I know people are telling the truth when they say the connections they're making between Lizzie and the male characters aren't because she's a woman. I know no one is thinking about her gender when they're saying these things and that is what bugs me, I think.

Fandom in general, but especially the MCYT fandom, has always had issues with the way we treat women. We have a tendency to reduce them to one or two characterizations (kind, mothering, vengeful, etc.) or to their relationships with men, things that aren't inherently bad things for a character to be. The issue comes from when that's the ONLY thing they ever get to be. They're not allowed to be as complex as the men. Again, I'm not at all saying that anyone is doing this on purpose, it's just a pattern that fandom culture as a whole seems to struggle with.

And when you have an issue like, that the answer isn't to ignore the gender aspect and treat all characters the same. You have to intentionally combat it. You have to take the time to deliberately give the female characters complex characterizations and interesting storylines outside of the men. It's equality vs. equity, you know?

If you've ever done research about writing POC characters, you've probably heard people say something like "Don't just write them like you would a white character because you might accidentally enforce stereotypes and biases you didn't even know existed. You have to be aware of those things so you can intentionally go against them." It's kinda similar to that in my head. You can't just say "I would do the same thing for a man" and be done with it because men and women have been treated very differently in fandom spaces and if we want to change that, we have to be intentional about how we write them.

I don't think there's anything inherently misogynistic about connecting Lizzie's death to the Canary Curse or Joel's revenge arc, but I would like her to also have her own character lore and a connection to the Watchers that isn't about a man. In a fandom space where women are constantly defined by their relationships with men and with a character who had as tragic a story as Lizzie, I would love for some of her lore to be about her and her alone. Connections to Jimmy and Joel are awesome! I love reading them! But I don't want that to be the only thing about her, even if that's what you would talk about if she were a man. She's not a man, she's a woman in a space where women are often mistreated or only seen as extensions of men. So even if you genuinely would say the same things about a man I just want you to challenge yourself to dig a little deeper with her character and find ways to give her something that is wholly and truly her own.

She had her own plans for revenge that went horribly wrong and ultimately led to her death! Even in her vengeful anger, she held a soft spot for Pearl because she remembered how she saved her in Session 1! She was forgotten and ignored by almost everyone! She tried to cheer herself up by doing something harmless and fun and that led to her being punched and then murdered for no reason! She wasn't even angry at Jimmy when he accidentally murdered her because she felt like it was her own fault! She tried so hard at everything she did and it still wasn't enough! She knew no one would come to save her from the caves! The only thing she asked of anyone was for them to come to her slumber party and still only one person showed up for her! She was forced to turn on her own husband to complete her task! She tried to make it up to him and it led to her being out of the game! No one even gave her a funeral when she was gone! She was forgotten and ignored in both life and death! There is so much more to her than being motivation for a man or breaking a man's curse, even if those are big things that happened.

Again, I'd like to make it very clear that I'm not angry about the way Lizzie has been treated, I'm mostly joking whenever I say things like in the original post. It's mostly just a feeling of "Come on I know we can do better than that!" And in the past few days I've seen a lot of people do some really amazing things with her character! So much amazing art and fanon lore! This isn't even a huge issue anymore because a lot of people have begun to explore her individual character now that the excitement about the Canary Curse has died down. This post is just an explanation for people who were asking questions or weren't sure what people meant in some posts from earlier in the week.

[qroier]

edited my post from yesterday on spiderbit eurydice and orpheus to be clearer. it is now. way longer klsdjfk. but the idea is the same. anyway enjoy reading if you do and uh. pues f if you don't, no? lskdfjsdk. kinda already mentioned it in the post but should clarify here that i'm 100% talking about the greek myth.

-

Thinking about spiderbit as eurydice and orpheus is so interesting to me, cause I think depending on how you look at it and how you think of the story, there's an argument for both. And then you remember everything that was purgatory and how clear of a parallel it is to the myth hdksjdks. Honestly though, I feel like the purgatory parallels are the biggest reason roier cubito as orpheus is winning out on that one poll, and I kinda have to disagree with that. The evidence for orpheus roier is there from the start. Roier cubito is always and forever a perfect, permanent orpheus figure even before considering purgatory, and it's down to the devotion roier and orpheus cling to and the grief they both drown in. (The rest under the read more)

Backtracking first for a bit to set the stage. There are many different versions of the eurydice and orpheus myth out there, and its nature as a myth means that interpretations (and translations of any original latin or greek versions) are always changing. Disclaimer of course that my understanding and general knowledge of the myth has been mainly influenced by the wider english-speaking cultural approach to it. I'm focusing on the orpheus archtype from my understanding of what it means (which I'll explain along the way) because otherwise if I didn't I'd end up getting too boggled down in "virgil said this according to this translation" and "ovid went more in this direction following this translator" details. and there is no way in hell i'm struggling through translating on my own with my measle little two years of latin classes under my belt lskdjfkldfj.

But regardless, here's a very basic and brief summary that most versions tend to follow: Eurydice and orpheus are married. Eurydice dies. Orpheus treks out to the underworld through the power of music to save her and get her back. He's told the only way he can have her is if he makes the treacherous trip back to the mortal realm without turning to look at her once. He looks back right before he makes it, and fails in saving her. Sounds familiar, right? slkdjfsk

Don't get me wrong, orpheus cellbit still makes sense in a way. That's part of why the poll and idea in general is so interesting. Heed the disclaimer again but to me, the biggest, most obvious, and most immediately linked connotation the myth has always had is one of devotion. Like the type of devotion that would take you all the way into the afterlife and all the way back in the hopes that that might save the person you love. Cellbit cubito is nothing if not devoted, and normally in the loudest ways possible. He loves shouting out his devotion at all times to anyone in close proximity. It just makes sense that if anyone could hold the level of devotion necessary to be orpheus it'd be him, cause we all know he'd do anything for roier.

Plus being honest, it also makes sense just going by the dynamics in their relationship that they most often present to others. Roier cubito kinda likes playing into the dynamic of asking other people to "save" him, whether that's from mobs or hunger or anything, so long as it's not something actually serious. So much so that the idiot (said lovingly) has conditioned everyone, and I do mean everyone, both islanders and audience alike, into thinking he's defenseless and needs saving. Maxo put it best that one time when he said he felt like roier after cellbit saved him from some mobs, only for cellbit to have to correct him and say that it's usually the other way around. As far as most are concerned, cellbit does the rescuing while roier gleefully asks for the help. It is very easy to make the jump from the idea that eurydice is being saved and the image of roier cubito calling out for help with a scorpion that he could (normally at least, I know he didn't have any weapons or gear that one time during purgatory) bring down on his own. It definitely doesn't help that cellbit is, of course and as always, already running to roier with a weapon in hand to kill the scorpion. At the first chance, he's already trying to help. Anything for his husband.

So it makes sense that orpheus cellbit, who clearly loves doing the saving, would drag himself through hell in his devotion to save eurydice roier, who loves being the one saved! But then you start remembering how the story came about. You start wondering, well, why does the devotion need to be so strong? Why does eurydice even need to be saved? What has brought the both of them to the gates of the afterlife? Oh. Right. It's because she died. She's dead. Eurydice, the love of orpheus’ life, is dead. 

Saving her takes and is devotion, yes, but it's also an attempt to escape grief. If she’s saved, there’s no need to mourn. If she’s saved, then she’s not dead and there’s no grief. And, always, there is no one more grief-riddled than roier (except maybe maxo, whose grief has permanently killed him). No one knows more intimately than roier how tough of a fight it is to escape constant grief because he is constantly grieving, and it just keeps getting worse. His number one recurring theme since arriving on the island has been that he will lose loved ones. To the point that sometimes, even if the person is still technically around, the grief around them and the relationship that once was finds ways to persist (just look at the mess that revolved around spreen cubito before he was confirmed to be dead).

The devotion still applies to him too, of course. Even though it's in quieter ways, there's no denying that roier is as equally devoted to cellbit as cellbit is to him. Cellbit once promised roier he'd rescue him if the feds ever arrested him. Roier once told cellbit he'd go after him and wouldn't stop until he got him back if the feds tried taking cellbit again. And that's not even the only time roier has promised that, he's said similar things multiple times before. He even had to fulfill that same promise once already, back during the regret arc when cellbit went missing trying to save felps. If there is one thing that is true, it's that roier is not lacking in orpheusian devotion.

Actually, extending that devotion from being based in romantic love to also including familial love just makes it all the clearer how much of an orpheus roier has already been. Orpheus fights through the journey, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost eurydice, of having to succumb to grief, is too much for him to take. Roier fought through the entire island and later a dungeon, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost bobby, of having to succumb to the grief of loosing his son to something outside of his control, was too much for him to take.

And then they both fail. Orpheus looks back too early. Sometimes he forgets, in his excitement to be so close to the end, sometimes doubt gets the best of him and he has to check, and sometimes the need to see his love again overwhelms all his senses. Sometimes maybe it's somehow all three. Roier also looked back too early, in a way, but cucurucho only knows what way that actually was. It could have been that he technically did die right at the very end before he could make it through the dungeon, or it could have been that the gods were feeling particularly cruel that day. Either way, bobby wasn't returned to him. Either way, eurydice vanishes in the morning light after orpheus gets one last glimpse of her. Either way, Bobby vanishes behind the door after roier and jaiden are given only 10 minutes to say goodbye.

This is all without even touching on some of the details about how roier's singing charms everyone he meets and how music is such an important part of his character (for those of you unfamiliar with the myth, orpheus' connection to music is so deep that the greeks named a constellation after his lyre). Or, as notes in the last version of this post pointed out, how his previous journeys to the underworld have shaken his faith and trust (which would probably need to be a whole entire other post on its own). 

Roier is just permanent orpheus. He can't help it. If you believe that characters in myths are left behind, endlessly retelling their journeys even once the book is closed, then orpheus is still there, making that trip to the afterlife and back. His story is being retold through roier, who is here now. Roier, who has already gone on two trips to the afterlife and back, already told this story twice before, and is now preparing himself for a third (even a fourth, if you want to extend this whole thing and include purgatory and the eggs). It’s retold in how Roier has to do the saving, again, because he keeps getting left behind. In how he’s always drowning in grief, in some way or another. How he’ll drag himself through the journey every single time if it means a chance at saving someone he loves. If it means saving himself from more grief.

So the stage is set. Purgatory happened. Orpheus has loved, again, and he's lost, again. Roier may like it when he's the one being saved but he's been forced yet again into a position where he has a chance to do the saving. He's facing an increasingly insurmountable mountain of grief on one side and a plunging chance at salvation on the other. The book has been turned back to its first page. The story is rewinding to tell itself again. We know what path he'll pick. Now all that’s left is to see if this third trip succeeds. To see if this retelling is one where orpheus does not look back. And if he does? Well.

"Dying again, [Eurydice] did not blame her husband — What could she complain of except she was loved?" - ovid, translator: stanley lombardo

[pokemoncenter]

On Team Plasma

... Truthfully, I did not want to share this in this way. But I feel that given recent events, it is best to be open and upfront. In this post, I will share all I know and all I can remember of Team Plasma, their actions, their methods, their reasons, and most importantly, why there cannot be a new resurgence of Team Plasma- Anyone claiming the name cannot be related to them.

Twelve years ago, I was a member of the original Team Plasma. I was afraid to share this until now, for many reasons, not least of which that I was afraid it would cause people to think less of me. I wished to take this secret to my grave. However, given the recent events of someone claiming to be Team Plasma, and potentially seeking to use its name to cause harm, I felt it best to take this chance to write down and post everything I know.

I do not know if this information will help, but it is my hope that it will either lay fears to rest, or help stop whoever is using Team Plasma's name.

First, I wish to clarify that for all of Team Plasma’s crimes, I was never involved in any ‘liberations’. My role was that, when Pokemon were brought to me, I simply examined them and deemed whether they were safe to return to the wild, or if they needed treatment first. I know that this does not excuse it, but even so…

To start from the beginning… Many have forgotten this now, but Team Plasma was originally nothing like what people think of it now. It originally began as a group devoted to Pokemon welfare. It is known now that it was far more sinister, but in the beginning, it was nothing more than a group which preached that humans should not force Pokemon to conform to their ideals.

Though no one knew much about it at the time, Team Plasma actually began in 1996. Ghetsis founded it as a group promoting Pokemon welfare, while raising a boy, N.

(Though I have no proof, due to their physical similarity and circumstance, I suspect that Ghetsis is N’s father.)

At the time, Team Plasma started small. It had no resources to speak of- In fact, when it began, Team Plasma (then Plasma Circle) had only eight members. Those who would go on to become the Seven Sages, and the Team’s ‘prince’, Lord N.

The growth of the organization was… surprisingly swift. By the time of its fall in 2010, it had surpassed 90,000 members. But before that, when it was just starting out, it owed its growth entirely to Ghetsis. The man was a surprisingly powerful public speaker, and has a strong charisma. Though he was at best someone who could be described as a monster, he had a keen eye for seeing through people, and could work a crowd better than anyone else. Combined with his acting as a simple older man, and even using the young N to boost his public image as someone campaigning for a kinder world, he was quick to gain popularity.

I did not join until 2008, when I had just turned ten years old. Rather than going on a journey as a Trainer, I wanted to instead help Pokemon. I joined Team Plasma, and there, I began to learn medicine and treatment to Pokemon.

What I would like everyone to understand is that ‘liberation’ was not originally considered the universal answer to all Pokemon. It changed. Swiftly, and yet unstoppably. 

I am getting ahead of myself.

Before I joined Team Plasma, there were many stories on the news of humans abusing their Pokemon. Many, like myself, had thought this to mean that humans were cruel. That we should try to make the world better for them. 

Upon joining, I studied under some of the older members, to learn how to treat Pokemon. Pokemon were brought to us frequently- Some of them liberated, some of them wild who were injured in other ways. We knew, of course, that some of them were liberated, but the important thing was that we believed liberation was only done to people who abused their Pokemon. And when a Pokemon was brought in with bruises from boot prints… We felt justified. 

As time went on, however, the number of Pokemon brought to us increased. And it had always been that every liberation had been justified. We had too many Pokemon to care for, and not enough time to look into each Pokemon we received, to ensure the liberation had been justified… but it always had been before, so we simply did not think much of it. We simply assumed that it was similar… That every Pokemon was either justly liberated, or wild and injured by human action.

At the same time, throughout 2009 and 2010, things seemed to… escalate.

We started out thinking that we would only liberate Pokemon that had been abused. And then, somewhere down the line, the language shifted without anyone noticing- That if we liberated a Pokemon, then it must have been being abused. And eventually, this turned into the thought that humans keeping Pokemon at all was abusing them, so all Pokemon should be liberated.

It was impossible to speak out against this. After all, we were all united in our love of Pokemon. Everyone agreed. If you disagreed… it just showed that you were another one of the foolish and cruel humans who were abusing Pokemon. The entire group felt unified, as long as you agreed. And if you stepped out of line, then everyone would turn against you. 

We felt unable to trust ourselves, because surely, the organization wouldn’t do anything wrong. But we also could not trust anyone outside of the Team, because so many people were abusing their Pokemon. We eventually could not trust anything except that which our superiors told us. It was horrifying- Without realizing it, you would be swept up by the flow of the crowd, terrified that any disagreement from the norm would be discovered, and you would be cast out.

Most of us did not know anything about the castle, either. 

The underground base was a well-known thing, of course. Most of us had been there a few times- I was there to see Lord N’s coronation, as well as to see a few of the larger or more dangerous Pokemon that needed treatment. We had been told it was simply to avoid crowding out room on Pokemon habitats above the ground. None of us knew it could move. 

It was when the castle rose up that I fled. The castle appeared, the Legendary Dragons were revived, the Gym Leaders and Elite Four were fighting us. That was when I finally realized just how deep in over my head I truly was. And so I ran. I ran for my life. I did not stop running until I had made it all the way back to Castelia City, and then, I shut myself away for the better part of a year.

… The rest of that story isn’t relevant to Team Plasma, however.

Team Plasma as an organization was managed by the Seven Sages, each with their own role. However, Lord N, as the King of Team Plasma, was truly in charge… or so we thought. We believed that the Seven Sages served Lord N, but in truth, Ghetsis was the true leader, and Lord N nothing more than a figurehead.

Among us in the lower ranks, however, we believed that Lord N was the true power. We saw his ideals, and his beliefs. He was pure-hearted, and truly believed in his mission with his whole heart. Between Lord N’s purity and Ghetsis’ foul charisma, most of us were true believers in the mission. However, not everyone was- At an estimate, I would guess that roughly 80% of Team Plasma’s grunts were loyal to Lord N, and the mission of welfare and happiness for all Pokemon. The remaining 20% were… more loyal to Ghetsis. Rather than wanting to benefit Pokemon, they simply wanted power. I was blind to it at the time, but now it is easy to see in retrospect. And most of the (roughly) one thousand members who committed the “liberations” were part of that second faction.

Rood of the Seven Sages was the one whom I worked under. His group operated mostly for Pokemon welfare- We treated Pokemon, as mentioned, and we sought to make things better for them.

Sometimes, though, Pokemon were brought to us that had their hearts closed by the abuses they received. Even when we treated them, they would not return to the wild. Instead, they chose by their own will to remain with Lord N. I believe they understood him, and his dream. His ideal, after all, was a peaceful, gentle world…

When Team Plasma fell, at that time, when Lord N and Ghetsis were both defeated, Team Plasma disbanded. Those of us who were loyal to Lord N and the ideals of making the world better for Pokemon fled, scattered all over Unova, or were arrested. Most of us would have gone into hiding, or tried to continue to find our own work,elsewhere to continue the dream of helping Pokemon. 

Those who remained loyal to Ghetsis and his maniacal plans instead went to ground with him. Without being arrested, they made a resurgence two years later as the second Team Plasma, who had abandoned all pretense of the original’s noble goals. They were nothing more than a military force that wished to conquer the region, if not the world, for Ghetsis’ horrible ambitions.

When Ghetsis was defeated a second time… I don’t know for certain. I’ve heard conflicting reports. That he died at the end of that fight. That he was arrested. Or that by using Kyurem… His heart was destroyed- His body survived, but the man called “Ghetsis” was dead. Regardless, all accounts agree- Ghetsis is no longer a threat. With the remaining Seven Sages arrested, Team Plasma is no longer a threat to anyone. Anyone who seeks to cause trouble using their name has no relation- The power of Team Plasma is all accounted for, and can no longer cause trouble.

Lord N… I do not expect anyone to believe me, or understand. But I can swear that he was not evil. He was manipulated by Ghetsis from his childhood. I have theories, and suspicions, but no proof, so they are not worth posting here. But I can say this:

Once, I had the fortune of seeing his dream. While I was at the underground base, I saw him resting, with a Munna there. In the Munna’s smoke, I saw his dream- A kind, and gentle dream, wishing purely for the happiness of Pokemon.

I hope this was informative. I will do my best to answer any other further questions you have.

[metaldevilll]

Ooooh btw I just remembered about the house = courting thing I posted

Idk if it falls under nsfw ( it’s a big no no to me since I’m ace and stuff like that is gross )

I meant it in a “PLEASE DATE ME, I MADE THIS HOUSE WITH BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS, PLEASE BECOME MY BOYFRIEND” kind of way.

I do love Palpers shooting his shot but “secretly”. Doing small things that he hopes Viv will notice

( also shocked at how Viv became the housewife on their new christmas video, the roles have truly switched + I watched with my mouth agape at their MHA roleplay )

Anway just wanted to clarify if it in any way felt nsfw 😭😭😭 promise it’s the last time

it doesn't fall under it imo? and even if it did, that wasn't your intent, so i'm not worried abt it. thank you for sending this ask for clarification anyway but it's ok you're good LOL YEAH THE MHA ROLEPLAY WAS LIKE INSANE WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM? they LITERALLY switched. they've been doing that a lot recently..... remember when viv used to cut out all the gay shit that happened and palpers would leave it in? for some reason they COMPLETELY swapped. like. buddy. pal. no one is going to kill you for leaving in a slightly gay bit. palpers cut out SO much of the mha bit it's saddening to me... sighs. palpers has lost his touch it seems. /j no because why did palpers choose to go to the nether at first and leave vivilly to decorate. THERE ARE TWO THINGS WRONG WITH THIS. 1) palpers is shit at surviving by himself (most of the time) 2) vivilly is shit at decorating (the candy canes. need i say more) LMFAO

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Tell us a little bit about the requests you’re working on or have queued up to write.

Hi!! Sure!!

I actually have only one (1) request remaining and I am actually glad you sent this ask, because I was a little confused about the prompt and wanted to ask the sender for clarification but since it was anon I couldn't DM them 😅 so now I have an excuse to do so.

First of all thank you for being so respectful, I've not done anything like this yet and am excited to!! I was a little confused if you wanted me to write an AU where Ambrosius takes care of Bal directly after the joust (based on their messed up relationship I don't think he did in canon, but if that's what you wanted pls lmk!!) or did you want to see something more Post-Canon with A nursing B back to health in some way? I really really love this request and I think it is so cute :,) I just don't want to disappoint! If you submitted it, I hope you're reading this, pls feel free to DM me OR submit another anon to clarify!! I actually really love this request so I want to fill it right

Below the cut I offer some info about the ones I did not fill (all anon) to hopefully offer an explanation to anyone who didn't get theirs. Sorry! 🩷

CW: some stuff discussed below the cut is sexual in nature

If your request for deleted I hope it doesn't hurt your feelings, I wasn't offended receiving them I just didn't want to do it for one reason or another. Of those that I remember, one was an exact duplicate of another request, so I just filled it once of course. One was for a selkie AU which I think is a really interesting and cute idea, but I am not familiar enough with selkies or Celtic folklore to have felt comfortable exploring that. I always want to be respectful to cultural folklore and didn't feel I had the time or mental energy I needed to do the amount of research I felt was necessary. Similarly I had one for a cheerleading au which I also thought was cute but I know nothing about cheer or any sport enough to write it lol

I received one that seemed to be for an age regression Drabble, which I don't actually mind writing at all, but because it was on anon and did not specify in the request, I had no way to confirm it was NOT a person who sexualizes/fetishizes it, and so I was not comfortable proceeding, especially since I was already wary since I'd already gotten another request that, while innocently worded, was very obviously a fetish and involved something happening to a character against their will (it wasn't explicit noncon, but like-- think along the lines of bimbofication). I'm okay writing CONSENSUAL nsfw stuff but I don't like receiving requests that are worded innocently while obviously being for fetish content. If you want fet content just say that and I'll either write it or I won't 😭

[andthebubbles]

well, longer post for the wicked soundtrack (spoilers)

defying gravity: wow i nearly started crying lmao skjfngkfg either i'm in a Mood orrrr... nah i think it's cynthia's voice, she really gets all the emotion out somehow with her voice!! amazing. and it made me remember that i did get teary when i saw the stage show back in 2009. jemma rix, btw <3 (she was still the understudy back then i think?) (i had a crush on her for a bit haha)

anyway atm i'm just listening to all the tracks i usually listen to. first i listened to Dancing Through Life, then The Wizard and I, What Is This Feeling, Popular, I'm Not That Girl, One Short Day, Defying Gravity

oooh the high F sounds good in Defying Gravity (i just got to it (i'm listening and liveblogging/writing this lol))

i assume the new bit inserted into DG will make more sense after watching the movie

anyway, other comments:

one short day: i knew they'd be in it bc i saw spoilers, and i'm not bothered about spoilers/it doesn't dampen my excitement/i don't need to be surprised (someone was kinda rude/offended about it on reddit to someone else, as if everyone thinks the same as them skjfgnfg). anyway, One Short Day, the new bit is another of those moments where it'll make sense once i see the movie. so yeah XD nice to have the og there though

the wizard and i: glorioussss

i'm not that girl: reaaaally nice, then i felt like it got a bit overwrought towards the end BUT i'm sure it'll make more sense when i see the movie

defying gravity (again lol, i cbb trying to slot it back in up top somewhere): there's something about the long held un-vibrato(??) notes in the chorus bit which just get me every time. and because i hadn't heard cynthia's version till now/this is the first time, the whole emotional whatever of it hit me again. fun!! (as an aside i also really like jemma rix's voice, i might go watch the stage version i got off yt again after this)

okay so ariana's songs/voice: they're nice, she sounds a lot like chenoweth, but atm i'm not so into how... unpunchy her delivery is? idk. tentative opinion till i see the movie in about 3 weeks (rather than my usual 4-5 weeks for a movie that i want to see lol (look, i'm eager!!))

oooh now listening to the ozdust duet track! i didn't know what it was till i clicked on it and recognised the music. WOW IT'S SO ROMATICALLY GELPHIE PLS THEY'RE SLOW DANCING YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME THAT THERE WEREN'T ~AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES~ SHENANIGANS like that beat is basically 80s (?) romance (??) slow dance (???) songs, IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, I WAS CLASSICALLY TRAINED, NOT POPULAR-MUSIC TRAINED (// to clarify/further explain, for some fucking reason my dad didn't let me listen to a lot/any popular music growing up, which he now fucking denies...! so now i'm a lil unsure but like I REMEMBER BEING A TEENAGER and him being like 'this is trash music, they can't sing' and so i had to listen in secret. and for someone who can't stand headphones/earphones (the feel of it), it was hard to listen to things lol. i heard more in primary school because primary school was more music-ey with the concerts and stuff)

anyway MUCH later i'll listen to all the other tracks i never listen to LMAO, i'm actually waiting for a better quality version than what yt can give me, so

aaand i'll add to this as i think of more things. gonna listen to all my fave tracks againnnn

ETA: ehehehe it's officially out at midnight my time!

more ETA

dancing through life: man jb's voice just makes me smile haha // I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIM BE A SHALLOW LIL SHITHEAD // i like the new transitions in this, better than the other tracks (just from without seeing the movie yet), i think because there's always a lot of room to move with this one, no pun intended lol

ETA2:

forgot to mention yesterday but i LOVE what they did with the start of One Short Day, because it starts a minor 3rd higher than on the OST and i was like, whaaa are we really transposing it that high? and it (the vocals and stuff) was very nice. and then it dropped down into the usual key, and it just sounded GOOD and it fucked with you a bit. very nice