#had to post it again because i had some issues!

[fireladyofink]

Oh God.. uuhhhh.. been a minute since I tried one of these..

Skipping 1, hate first person, just can't do it, not even read it.

2 is 100% Andlàtkyn. There's some issues here and there but it will always be my pride and joy.

Due to not posting on AO3 (even though I really should be), 3 is mostly ineffective. Except Wattpad has tags. I'd say UTAU, dragons and crossover.

4, lol. Literally. Lately I keep using that (only when texting others) and it's bothering me. I feel like a simpleton because of how much I'm saying that, eugh.

5 I've honestly learned a lot while researching fics. For one, I found out lantana berries are toxic to humans yet taste like blueberries, and I have them growing in my backyard. They're actually my favorite plant! I love their flowers; so pretty, and they have such a uniquely funky smell as well. Part of why I adore them, it stands out so much without being a bad smell. And the leaves have a sort of citrus smell? I love lantanas.

6 I don't know. I've thought about requests due to the money, but I feel like I'd either struggle to start writing it or get carried away with it- or straight up not finish in a reasonable timeframe. Commissions? Like art commissions? Maybe in a few years when I'm more confident in my skills and also somehow have a drawing tablet to properly draw digitally. Something like that.

7 Either or. I love making sickeningly sweet coffee or various different teas.

8 Is honestly hard to decide! Off the top of my head I can think of Dust initially meeting Killer with the hilariously absurd question of "What do you mean you don't have a mouth? How are you speaking right now? Your ass?"

9 Believe it or not it was basically when I first got a phone and commented a short story in the comments of a YouTube video. Someone replied with a suggestion of Wattpad. The rest is history, lol.

10 Off the top of my head I can't think of anything beyond something very specific for the fic I've been thinking about again lately, Ninjagaësia. Only time I've written outside of the UT fandom too, I specifically want to get around to writing that version of Zane more. What I had planned for him is fun as hell. An absolute badass.

11 Lots of comments, votes and people enjoying it. Which, continuing the above mention, Ninjagaësia doesn't qualify for. Pretty unsuccessful, but for once I don't really care.

12 Undertale AU's. I doubt I'll ever leave, either.

13 No. Hell, my ultimate fic of Andlàtkyn was written throughout the later half of highschool. I am technically working on an original story on the sidelines, I call it my worldbuilding project because I'm building up so much lore in this world before I actually touch on the story itself outside of a vague idea. About 60-ish different species of people, including the were-diseases. Last I counted, anyway. I'll be working on it for years, I know it, and I don't mind that either.

14 Comments talking about my fics on said fics. Actual interactions! It brings me joy. 🧡

15 My family is well aware. I don't bring up a lot of details but the last time I went into vague detail with my mother it was over a scene in Andlàtkyn (no direct spoilers) and she interpreted it weirdly and now she teases me by asking if I'm killing babies again! A bit awkward..

16 Actually finishing a damn story. I don't mind the periods of no writing until I get inspired again, but what annoys me is when I can't seem to finish anything. Only ever finished Andlàtkyn. I still have yet to write anything for the sequel to it, either! Zeradelsída is still just a bunch of loose plot points..

17 I am semi successfully writing benevolent eldritch horror. It doesn't intend harm, but it is truly.. horrifying nonetheless. The uncertainty of someone knowing he died, feeling his own heart stop beating, and feeling something OTHER seep inside and force it to start again, pulsing in his veins, fusing with his anatomy, permanently altering both him and itself into something completely unknowable.. I'm rambling. Anyone who hasn't seen my Wattpad, read Awakened. If you don't mind ridiculously long fics, read Andlàtkyn too!

18 I have at least 7 I mostly expect to finish, with at least 4 others just kind of.. there. I don't think I've posted any of those, either. I also have ideas inspired by dreams that I'd love to write down someday, though don't really expect to actually codify.

19 I kind of just don't. I work on different projects as the inspiration hits, take a backseat for a month or so, then come back to either the same project or a different one.

20 Hmmm.. Hard to think of something specific. I'm leaning towards stuff in Andlàtkyn. I don't really have a favorite kiss scene because I don't do romance. I write adventure! Andlàtkyn has some side romance though- not that any of it is my favorite. Platonic stuff, though.. I'd say my favorite is honestly Lust and Alter incidentally befriending each other and becoming venting buddies. It's the cutest thing, their friendship is adorable and wholesome despite the background angst. I didn't write nearly as much of them as deserved.

21 Honestly it's mostly lack of inspiration that I'm pretty sure stems from depression. If I could get an ADHD prescription or depression meds I'd probably be a lot better but like. I am completely broke. So much so that those issues aren't even in the top 10 of pressing problems solved with money.

22 Given I've literally only done it once.. not really. I guess I post it around everywhere I can think of in excitement?

23 That one continuous dream I had that went on over a month centered on a Nightmare that was freshly corrupted. He was honestly so nerdy and adorable despite putting on the brave and mildly "evil" front. The boy. Him. Goddamnit I want to write that at some point.

24 Honestly I can't think of anything for this one.

25 Oh yeah, I can't think of anything off the top of my head but there's a lot I'd like to fix in all of my stories, lol.

26 Kind of? It's a more recent development, did it for Zeradelsída which still has yet to be written, did it for that Ninjagaësia too. A little bit of a broad, even vaguer outline for things I want to happen in Awakened, too? More like events, no particular order or connection.

27 A few of those WIP's that haven't been posted... Okay technically just one. There's also the very first fic I wrote that is subsequently the only one I've ever deleted.

28 Angstiest often coincides with cursed for some reason, so I'll just go with the ending of Andlàtkyn for the Apple Twins.

29 I kind of just.. don't. If I do, I start hating everything, and because I'm not THAT bad at spelling and grammar I think it's mostly fine the way it is.

30 Oh absolutely. It's particularly obvious when one looks at Andlàtkyn, which I wrote over the course of 4 years. Really neat transition, if I ever manage to do it, I'd rewrite the beginning a little to match the rest when crossposting to AO3. If I ever get around to that.

31 Again, Andlàtkyn. That fic is my baby, man. It's so precious to me.

32 Honestly I don't know for this one, which is weird.

33 100% Ink of Awakened. My little boy. I have some friends that would rib the hell out of me if they ever found out, lol. Thankfully the main one doesn't even remember that he has a Tumblr.

34 I was not expecting how hard of a question this is! I thought it was Andlàtkyn, but thinking about it.. I don't think so? It might simply just change depending on which one I'm currently fixated on, but at the moment I think my favorites to get that on is Awakened and Ninjagaësia, second of which already has basically nothing to begin with.

35 I don't have anything, oof.

Fanfic/Author Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

What are some words or phrases you feel like you overuse?

What’s something you learned while researching a fic?

Would you ever accept requests or commissions?

Coffee or tea while you write?

What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?

What makes a fic 'successful' in your opinion?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?

What do you struggle with most when writing?

What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

How many WIPs do you have and how many do you expect to finish?

How do you get over writer's block?

Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

What stops you from writing more in your free time?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Which scene/theme was the inspiration for [insert fic]?

Are there any moments in [insert fic] that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?

Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?

Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Have you noticed your style change over time?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

A character you enjoy making suffer.

A character you want to protect.

What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?

Wild Card: Ask me something else!

[nyxtickled]

re: his public response

i would not have to share screenshots if blatant misinformation was not being shared about me in private to multiple women and now in public.

i will not be shamed for offering hard evidence and truth to dispute the way i am being painted out by a manipulative man.

Despite her showing some sort of interest for potentially more, I made it clear we were in a kink dynamic, and we both agreed on that. I was not romantically dating anyone for the duration of our dynamic, so Nyx was a large part of my focus in my personal life for several months. 

i will NOT be painted as some scorned lee who was hurt because she developed some sort of unrequited feelings for a play partner. for the love of god i am WAY too gay for that shit.

I was put in a hard spot many times because multiple partners would openly voice the way my (gushing) posts about Adi would make them feel. Dynamics were ended (and then reconnected after conversation) over the way my posts made them feel like I was prioritizing one play partner over another. That was never my intention. I truly do enjoy gushing over a play partner. I enjoy hyping up my play partners, as you all have seen. But, this caused problems several times with several partners.

this conversation happened in mid-November. it was the second time i had brought up my feelings of disconnection. i never had a problem with what he shared on tumblr. i will always support, encourage, and love other women. i would never express discontent about another woman’s attention. what i did was express a need, and gave him the option to meet it. he minimized, said he would, and never put forth the action. it was all words, words, words.

and when i later attempted to deescalate our connection in an attempt to be as respectful as possible of his needs and his limitations, trying to meet him where he was at, while dealing with my dog’s cancer and my second community member warning about him, the mask came off.

and the most shocking part about all of this? during the family tragedy he referred to from mid-December as stated, i constantly poured out as much support to him as i could while giving him as much space as he needed. i am so heartbroken that he would imply that his play partners disregarded his grief as the cause of his disconnection from us. that is actually deplorable. after all the times i reiterated that i would never be resentful of him for processing a pain like that. after an entire month went by before he even told us his family member had passed, and i apologized while clarifying over and over that if i had known, i would have understood, but that was not the root issue. i assured him that i would never hold something like that against him.

what he fails to mention is that he invited me to AUNT, changed his mind on going, and then changed it back when he found out i was going to find my way there anyway without depending on him for a room or flight. when he approached me attempting to act as though we were close as ever and ready to kiki, i explained that i wouldn’t be bailing on my new plans with my new friends. THAT is when i suddenly was told about his grieving. again, i don’t post screenshots to be messy, i do it to fucking fact check because i will never make a claim i cannot back up.

i don’t care about how i might be judged for taking this bait. i absolutely fucking refuse to allow a man who has already emotionally harmed me privately to get on here and continue perpetuating literal delusion to avoid accountability. fuck that.

i was not seeking a romantic relationship. i never, ever expressed discontent as a result of his grieving. i repeatedly spelled out what i needed in a dynamic, he agreed that he would love to give it, and then disappeared without any follow up. over and over and OVER again, and every time i tried to restructure us as friends, he begged me not to until i agreed. FAR before any personal tragedy struck.

i will not continue to sit here silently as he twists the narrative once more. i don’t care about posting screenshots because i have nothing to hide and i have had my experience minimized and overridden enough times in the last 6 months. it will never happen again.

if you would like me to stop talking about this on my blog, simply do not fucking lie about me again.

[coquitokisses]

Oh, baby! | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: reader had a one night stand with Dean and they find out she’s pregnant

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: I gotta be honest, this is from a fanfic lmao, which is supposed to be a crossover of Teen Wolf and Supernatural, but I haven’t published it yet and I’ve been wanting to write something about Dean for a whileee so I decided to just edit this lil thing I had and post it here cuz why not?

“Hey, Cas, you’re back.” You smile sweetly at him once you saw him as you made your way to the library to help Sam with research

“Hi, y/n.” He replied with a small smile that soon turned into a confused frown

You noticed. “Everything okay?”

“How do you feel?” He asks

“I’m fine.” You replied, not understanding his sudden worry

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cas, why? What’s wrong?” You questioned feeling a little alarmed by the way he was asking

“It’s just that I feel another presence.” He said

“Another presence?” Sam took his eyes off the laptop to look at Castiel

“What do you mean another presence?” Dean’s voice was soon heard throughout the library

“Is it bad?” You ask

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s inside you.”

“Inside me?!” You were so confused right now “But what is it? Is it bad?”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked somewhat worried after hearing Castiel’s words

“She’s fine,” he replied and then looked at you “Can I?” he raised his hand

You nodded giving him permission to do whatever he had to do. Castiel put a hand on your forehead and then began to lower it down your body, but without actually touching it, until it reached your belly.

“Can I?” he looked at you, you just nodded

He placed his hand on your belly and that’s when he realized what was the presence he was feeling.

“It’s a baby,” he said, removing his hand

You almost choked. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“A.. baby?” Sam was dumbfounded

“Wait, wait, are you sure?” Dean looked at Castiel

“Very sure,” the angel nodded

“It can’t be...” you put one of you hands on you chest. “Oh my God..”

“Are you really sure?” Dean asked again

“Yes, Dean, I am one hundred percent sure that I feel a baby’s presence.” Castiel snapped back

“This isn’t happening.” Dean ran his hands over his face “This is.. this is simply not happening.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys…” Sam looked at you both

“Sam, just shut up for a minute, okay?” Dean replied

“I- I need to get some air.” You muttered as you walked backwards like three steps and then turned around heading to the stairs

“Y/n wait!” Sam called out but you ignored him

You got out of the bunker and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down and not have a panic attack.

“This can’t be real..” you murmured to yourself

You raised your hands to your belly and you’re just standing there in shock.

Of course you wanted a family, but you knew that it was probably not going to happen due to the fact that you’re a hunter and you’ve been hunting basically your whole life. You knew how your life was gonna end. And you made your peace with that. Kinda.

Worst thing about all of this is the fact that Dean is the one who got you pregnant. You two used to hate each other, but throughout the years, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and well, you’ve basically been working with them since they had to deal with the angels pretty much.

He’s always had a crush on you and you knew it, but it wasn’t really that serious. He usually just flirted with you and most of the time you just ignored him.

Until a few weeks ago, while you guys were finishing up a case that Sam decided to let you two handle so you could work on your communication and your anger issues, because the week before that, you have to admit that you were both butting heads every five minutes, and it was driving Sam insane. So he sent you both to deal with a vampire case in Wyoming and with a little assignment to work on your issues and stop behaving like kids. His words.

And you did worked your issues out. You just didn’t think it was gonna be by having sex, but hey, you weren’t complaining at all. He was perfect. And it was the best night you’ve ever had in a while.

And here are the results of that hook up.

It’s clear to say that neither of you are prepared, mentally nor physically prepared to have a kid.

And besides, how were you gonna raise a kid together if you can’t even get along for more than two days?

You got on your car and decided to go for a ride, just to clear your head. And while you were at it, you bought like two boxes of pregnancy tests just to be one thousand percent sure and because you would believe it more once you see it yourself.

You got something to eat after that and decided to use the bathroom at a gas station so you could take the pregnancy tests.

While you waited on the results, you were walking around in the small bathroom, thinking what the hell you were gonna do.

After a few minutes of talking to yourself internally, you decided to take a look at the four pregnancy tests.

“Oh god..” you muttered under your breath seeing the plus sign on the tests

(…)

After a while of just driving around, you finally decided to get back to the bunker. Once you open the door, Dean’s head turned to look at you immediately.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaving the book he was reading on the table

“I was getting rid of the little creature,” you replied

“Y/n.” Dean gave your a stern look

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I went for a ride and to get something to eat, anything else you want to know?”

You walked to where he was and put your hand inside the pocket of your jacket.

“In case you thought Castiel was lying...” you took the pregnancy tests out of your jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “It’s quite real.”

Dean looked at the tests in front of him realizing that this was really happening. He did believe Cas, but seeing the positive pregnancy tests, definitely made his mind finally fall into the acceptance that this was real. Very real.

Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re not completely happy with this situation, believe me, I’m not either, but..-

“But we already did it and now we have to take responsibility, I know,” you said taking off your jacket “What I’m still trying to figure out is how you and I are going to raise a baby”

“I don’t know either.” He sighed

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” you pulled out a chair so you could sit and then you brought your hands to you face

“I know...” Dean said in a soft voice and leaned a little so he could look at you. “Hey,” he gently took you by the wrists, removing your hands from your face. “You’re not going to be alone, I’m not going for a pack of cigarettes and never come back.”

That made you laugh a little. “I know you won’t.”

“I’m just.. scared.” He admitted “Scared to raise a kid, scared that I might turn out like my dad and I don’t want that..”

“You’re not going to be like your father, Dean.” You said softly “And I’m scared too, like, I’m gonna be carrying a baby inside of me for the next nine months, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good mom.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled a little. “That’s kinda comforting.”

“I think we can make it work if we make the effort.”

“We hate each other.” You roll your eyes

He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, I don’t hate you, sweetheart, like, at all.”

You chuckle. “Don’t lie to yourself, you only wanted to get in my pants.” You joked

“Well yeah, but I don’t hate you.” He shrugged

“I don’t hate you either, you’re just.. very annoying.” You said

“You are too.”

You roll your eyes. “Right.”

“In all seriousness,” he started saying “I think we should give it a try.” He looked into your eyes “And you know, we would also be getting out of this life and finally getting a normal one.”

“That does sound nice.” You nodded

“It’s up to you, babe.” He said

You could see in his eyes that he was dead serious about this. He wanted this. He wanted to give it a try with you.

And after a few seconds of thinking, you finally responded.

“Let’s do it then.” You said and he smiled “But we’re not getting married.”

“I’m fine with that.” He said with a shrug which made you smile

main masterlist

A/n: I think I can make this into a small series, should I? 👀

Likes, comments and reblogs will be appreciated! <3

divider creds @hyuneskkami

[for-a-longlongtime]

Hey Anon, I saw your message this morning! 💜

You pointed out "Yall need to be careful of bi erasure" and linked to a post someone made about me. I appreciate the heads up! To be honest, I’m not concerned about people suggesting that I’m doing bi erasure. Whether it’s regarding Pedro characters in canon, head canons, or bisexuality in any other way. But hey, everybody can have their opinion about things, including what they think about me.

I dont talk much about myself here, but my tumblr bio has said from day 1 that I’m a bi woman. My master list mentions most of my fic “is queer (m/m, bi4bi, m/m/f, non-binary and trans characters)”. Folks who have read my fic know I've written pairings where every character is explicitly bi ( Frankie x f!reader x Santi; Peña x Rockford x OFC; Ezra x f!reader x Benny Miller, and WIPs with Joel and Marcus M, Frankie x f!reader x OFC and Maximus x Acacius x Lucilla).

Can bisexual people still do bi erasure? Sure!

Do I worry whether straight folks or other random folks online think I'm involved in bi erasure? Nahhh.

Anyway, I did make some posts the other day based on anons submitted to me about issues re: queer representation in this fandom. Let me just direct you to the several posts I made on that day, which started in response to a question about Renaldo:

"Was Renaldo Gay in the SNL sketch?? I've seen a lot of blogs saying he wasn't?". TL;DR version of my response: the ending of the song states "word to the wise, if you've got wives, hide them from the three bros!" suggesting that Renaldo, Domingo, and Santiago all hook up with women/wives. Considering Renaldo hooked up with Matthew, that probably makes him bisexual (and not the fact that he had Sophie, aka Sabrina's character, dancing up on him) - or queer, or someone who doesn't like to label himself. However, while 'hide your wives' works linguistically as a great punch line to wrap up the song, it does not refer to Renaldo's affair with Matthew (now that is bi erasure, if you wanna be exact), so I did point out that 'hide your spouses' would've been more accurate - but understandably, that's not as catchy. I'm currently writing a Renaldo x Matthew one shot, and I said my headcanon has Renaldo as gay - but that's my interpretation/hc/fic.

Someone wrote to me: Some blogs in the fandom is hellbent on taking away any attention away from anything mlm based with his characters anyway so it wouldn't matter in Renaldo was gay - someone would find a loophole to make him like women. TL;DR I agreed, because there are people who definitely do that. It became part of a longer thread of reblogs with some other folks in which we talked about how Pedro's mlm (men loving men) characters, such as Oberyn, Dieter and Silva in particular, either tend to be canonized primarily as bisexual by people but in fic are almost always paired with women (f!reader or OFCs). Which is fine, but people are definitely interested in seeing more m/m representation for those characters. Someone also brought up that when Pedro characters are paired with non-binary reader inserts or OC, it tends to be mostly afab!nb (or afab!trans characters), and that they were surprised that there weren't more amab!nb characters - that's a great point too.

I made a post with an anon message that pointed out "MLM includes bi, pan and queer men. They might like women. (And/or other genders, but they still like men)". Very correct!

Finally, there was an excellent long message from an anon saying "We need more representation of bi people in same-gender relationships represented" and that even in threesomes or throuples (fic) that include two men, there should ideally be more mlm representation. Once again, I fully agree. Everybody should write whatever they want, but I do often see threesomes that are listed as Pedro Character 1 x reader x Pedro Character 2, but in the fic it's more like reader having sex with two straight men at the same time while they're trying to not cross swords, rather than mlm being represented. THIS IS DEFINITELY CHANGING THOUGH: it's wonderful to see a big increase of mlm characters in threesomes/throuple fics over the past year!

So here is my main issue with a lot of people who are raging about 'bi erasure', and why I've made several posts about queerness within this fandom (not just recently, but from the start). Of course bisexual people exist (hello, it me, for one). Pull up some statistics if you want: there are a lot more folks who identify as bisexual than there are folks who identify as gay or lesbian. I'm an older millenial, so if you wanna talk about bi erasure: the measure in which it happens today is nothing compared to the bi erasure and deeply engrained homophobia we experienced in our teens and twenties from society at large. However:

🏳‍🌈 In your rush to point out bisexuals exist, you're shutting down a much broader dialogue with people within the LGBTQIA+ community. 🏳‍🌈

Because have you noticed how gay men, nonbinary/genderqueer fans, amab!trans or amab!nonbinary FANS (not fic characters; I'm talking actual people) are extremely underrepresented in this fandom? In addition to in fic? And that these fans won't have their fiction or actual posts shared all that much? Or that when they carefully speak up, e.g. about being happy to see Pedro portray Silva as a gay character, they're immediately rebuffed and called biphobic or that they're trying to erasure bisexuality?

Yeah. That part.

It's messed up.

Nobody is even making demands. Nobody is even saying "what writers are doing is wrong". They're just saying, "This is a bummer". And some of us are pointing out that mlm Pedro characters in m/m pairings are hard to come by, which is too bad because it's not only us queers who read m/m Pedro character pairings - there are lots of straight fans out there who have indicated they like reading that, too.

Are you gonna call that bi erasure? Or marginalization of women? Or anything really except for what it actually is? Fans are just saying "yknow, I wish there were more fans/fic characters/bodies in fic represented in this fandom that look and feel more like me". People seem to have finally understood that in varying degrees when this applies to body type or racial/cultural background (which took many white people a lot longer to fully grasp; BIPOC folks have been saying this for such a long time already) - it's about diversity and wanting to feel included. But when gay or transfolks say this about mlm, a whole bunch of y'all are crying bi erasure?

In short (and I can't believe I need to even fuckin' say this):

The Pedro fandom or its fic does NOT belong exclusively to women.

It does not belong to cis folks, to straight people, or any other particular group of people.

Aren't we all just trying to be a community? Then stop acting like people reading Silva or Renaldo (or any other character) as gay are erasing bisexuality - that's not the case or the damn point.

And anon-- my critique truly isn't directed at you, I'm not dragging you in any way. You took the effort to bring something to my attention, plus you clearly care about people, and I appreciate that a lot. But there are tons of people who don't dare to speak up about this in public settings, so I can't help but take this opportunity to not only clarify what I said earlier -- but also to address the bigger problem at large. Read or write all the gossip blogs you want, by all means, but maybe also consider using that time to actually connect with people.

[steviewashere]

Back in My Head Again

Rating: Mature CW: Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Steve Harrington, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use (In Various Points), Mental Health Issues, Past Referenced Parent Death Pairings: Tommy Hagan & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Steve Harrington's Father, Steddie Tags: Post-Canon, Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington's Father Being an Asshole, Steve Harrington Making Some Bad Decisions, Impulsive Steve Harrington, Good Friend Tommy Hagan, Protective Tommy Hagan, Tommy Hagan Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan Cares About Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Loved, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie & Tommy Bonding About Steve, Childhood Friends, Hopeful Ending This one's a very personal piece to me. So please be kind, but also take care of yourselves. This one gets dark really fucking fast. Read all content warnings and tags, take care! <3 Also on ao3 (because this is long)

☎️—————☎️ Tommy’s the only one who knows what happened to his mom. It’s not that he’s keeping her death a secret, but it’s easier to just not say anything. Sometimes, when he’s quiet in a room, all the eyes around him are a bit more attentive than they’d be if he were just being stupid. He only found out because Steve needed an ear to listen and a brain that remembers when she had been sweet.

Not that his mom hadn’t been nice or sweet or motherly. She was just…different near the end. Combative. Argumentative. Angry. He could breathe the wrong way and receive an earful for the way his nostrils whistle. Had he known the inevitable, maybe he would’ve been a little bit more receptive to her comments, accepted them like soft punches to an even softer pillow, but as it was, he was just as angry—if not more.

With her gone, his dad became worse.

They weren’t, like, buddies before she died. But if they were in the same room? Well, it would take a whole lot of tongue biting, but Steve could manage it. With his nose cradled in the crook of his elbow, all his words muffled by warm skin, and hands curled into tight white fists. At least in the before, there were only a handful of times where he felt the need to be scared of his dad. The one afternoon where he came home from a basketball practice—pent up and exhausted, hungry as hell, sweating where the sun didn’t shine—and his dad had been furious about something probably ridiculous, and charged at him from the other side of the room. Steve had acted on a weakened instinct, one he thought he trained to be obediently dormant, but when his fists went up in front of his face and his eyebrows furrowed into the soft hoods of his eyelids, he knew he’d always had to be ready just in case.

Maybe he was just a spoilt brat. Maybe he was just an angsty teenager with too many misplaced emotions. Maybe he was just naive.

But he had been ready, always, to pack his shit, dodge some punches, and get the hell back. Though, when his mom was alive, he survived on her affection like a sick bee needing sugar. Now, without her? It was a matter of time before his dad starved him. Or worse.

Tommy knew, though, about his parents. That his mom died suddenly and too young. That his dad was an asshole. He knew about the always packed backpack in his closet, the overstocked first aid kit he hid under his bed, and that secret he let spill from his lips too late one evening, beer soaked on his tongue, a hunger for Tommy’s freckles in the deep pit of his stomach—I want to kiss you, is that weird?

Was it maybe too weird that he went to Tommy still? Even after everything? Even after telling him off in that parking lot? Maybe, but Steve’s never been one to make good decisions. But there was a certain sort of security blanket when it came to talking to Tommy. 

After a bad hookup? He went to Tommy. Drank a little too much and needed somebody to not judge him for it? He called Tommy. Wet the bed from a nightmare like he did as a kid? To his childhood friend, Tommy, he ran to.

They’ve seen each other at their worsts. Well, the non-NDA, government cover-up worsts. He’d been there for Tommy when his parents divorced. Been there the first time Tommy had been rejected. Been there when Tommy was sick with the flu, threw up a little too hard, and gave himself a nose bleed. And in turn…

Steve trusted Tommy still, despite it all.

Was it unhealthy? To rely on Tommy in certain dire moments and then to recede as if it never happened? Oh yeah, Steve can recognize that. But would he go to Robin with information about his dad? No, unfortunately, he wouldn’t. There’s not enough time and comfort and days spread between them.

He’s known Tommy since he was seven years old.

If they weren’t such big piles of shit, to each other, to themselves, maybe they’d still be orbiting. But. They are, that’s the problem. They are.

Now, though, he needs Tommy.

Hugging a payphone by the nearby park, wrapped up in loose, thin layers, seventeen degrees and lips turning purple, he needs him.

“C’mon, Tommy…c’mon,” he mutters, breath puffing in front of him in a large white cloud. This is his last quarter. His cheeks are searing with tears. There aren’t gloves on his hands, his fingers are fucking numb and bluish. He’d go home, but his dad is there. Drunk and stubborn and angry, his dad is always there.

Finally, on the last ring, it’s picked up. “Hello?” Tommy answers gruffly.

Steve sobs, hard and sour and ugly, “T-Tommy.”

“Holy shit,” he hears, that voice now alert, “Steve, is that you? Oh my god, are you okay?”

His eyes dart around. The street is empty. There’s ice under his stupid sneakers, one wrong move and he’ll give himself another concussion. Words bubble in his throat, but all that leaves him is an awkward, dry retch.

“Hey,” Tommy whispers, “take…take a deep breath for me, okay? I’m—Take a moment, I’m right here.”

The breath stutters in his chest, hiccuping and sharp and painful. He heaves a sigh, is praised for it, and sniffles. “My d-dad f-fucking sucks. I hate him, Tommy. I fucking hate him.”

Over the line, Tommy shuffles—probably in his bed, this late at night; 3:23am, when Steve hazily glances at his watch. “I know,” he says softly, “what’d he do, Stevie? Or is he just…”

“He—fuck—I came downstairs to get some water, y’know, and…and I don’t know, he was just in the kitchen. I could…I could see the alcohol on the counter, so he was drinking, and he’s always drinking, Tommy…he’s always, always—but he saw me and h-he called me an asshole, I know I am, but I just—I was just trying to get some water and he just said it and he—he said it was my fault that my mom, that she…”

The moment ‘mom’ leaves his tongue, the sobs boil again in his throat. Gurgling and wet, he allows it to happen. Bile-laden sobs rip wild through his chest, staining the back of his mouth, heaving out of him because the breath burns through him too fast to mean anything. He blubbers, words incoherent through his teeth, slurred in a way only his dad knows how. And it’s within the blink of an eye, sorry on himself that he’s so close to being just like him, that he’s wrenching something deep from within his pocket.

On his sixteenth birthday, only a few short years ago, his grandpa had still been alive. Happy and well. There was one thing he gave him. A pocket knife. Heavy silver handle, sharpened silver blade, his name engraved in pointed letters. It was for self-defense, a good tool just in case of an emergency.

Is it self-defense if it was himself that he was protecting from?

Is it self-defense if it pierces between his ribs?

Is it self-defense if it was an emergency escape?

“Where are you?” Tommy asks. It’s urgent in the air, as if he’d already been asking it in Steve’s daze, looking down at the pocket knife shiny in his grip. “I’m going to come get you. Where are you?”

He could bite his tongue, he’s good at it. 

But one thing about Tommy that nobody else knows is that he’s perceptive as hell.

Steve could swallow his own tongue, but even then, Tommy would pick up that something is going seriously wrong.

“That park near my house,” he mumbles in response, “you know where it is?”

“You see a bench nearby?”

He nods stupidly, humming without words.

“Can you sit on it for me, Steve?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I can do that.”

“Okay,” Tommy sighs, but it doesn’t sound put-out. It’s relief. “Stay on that bench and wait for me, okay? I want to be able to see you.”

Steve hums again. Bobbles his heavy, eyes-burning head. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurry?”

His hand fists tighter around the folded pocket knife. Thumbnail etching into his own name, eggshell white paint chipping at the pressure. One wrong move, one wrong thought, one wrong second—he takes a deep breath, the air burning inside him, and can pinpoint the exact spot where the blade would rest. It’d be just one quick push. One last scream. One last bout of terror. The metal is cold in the center of his palm, yet his fingers haven’t quite picked up on the temperature.

“‘Course,” Tommy murmurs, “I’ll find you soon.”

The phone buzzes dead in his ear. There are tears crisp and hot to the gentle wobble of his chin. He darts his eyes to the nearby park bench, lonely and dark with a gentle spattering of snow along its back, and he begins the gentle path forward. Tiptoeing around sheets of slick, thin ice. Fog in the air hanging, clouding the dark sky to be a semi-permanent pale grey. He settles himself on the bench, the cold seat against his pants.

In his hand, the knife rests uneasily. It’s a light thing, but tonight it’s especially heavy. Especially daunting. He blinks, still looking at it with his tired, seeping eyes, and curls his fingers around it. It doesn’t go back to his pocket, though.

He doesn’t know, really, why he took the little knife with him. As if, possibly, there’d be a demodog out there searching for him—that’s the only truth he can bring to the forefront of his mind. That he’d be hunted down by something he could only control with the folds of his own flesh, but even that’s a sorry excuse; the demo-creatures have long since been rid of, they were connected to Vecna, and Vecna’s as good as dirt. If he had to think of a reason, Steve could conjure up reality with a simple blink. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the need had always been there.

To kill himself.

That’s as bluntly as he could put it.

Even that brings a fresh churn to his ever-churning stomach.

The need had been there, though. An etch to the sketch of his whole person. A fleeting thing. Maybe since the first time he’d been left home alone—eight years old and confused. Maybe when he called the police after his dad had hit him the first time—ten years old and told that that’s how bad kids are punished, a spanking. Maybe when he drank himself into near hysteria—thirteen years old and puking up his lungs in his mom’s nice peonies outside the kitchen window. Or maybe it was after the demogorgon—seventeen.

Could’ve been in part because of Nancy or even Jonathan. Possibly Carol. Even Barb. At one point, definitely, Tommy.

But even he knows pointing fingers at friends is pointless.

This need, this feeling, the weight of the knife in his hand—

He’d always held the handle. It was just a matter of sensitivities that controlled the blade.

Why this time?

Why now?

Because he was an asshole? Whatever. He’s been an asshole. Because his dad was home? Whatever. Steve’s always wanted him home. Because his mom was dead? Whatever. She’s been dead for over a year now. No Vecna to get her, no demogorgon to savor her—he had been eighteen, she had been sick, like really fucking sick…it was nobody’s fault.

So why now? Steve couldn’t even pinpoint the reason.

It was a build probably. Unresolved shit from the Upside Down, hand in hand with his failing minimum wage job, with his spiral of never-ending college rejection letters, on and on. He never went through with flicking open the blade. Had to protect and whatnot. Is it because there’s no reason to protect? Is it because he doesn’t have to now?

Sure, he was staying because of Dustin, Max, the lot of them, Robin, and Eddie.

He wasn’t staying for himself, though.

Why would he? Who could?

He’s always had this need to never truly pocket the knife. Despite its name.

It belonged to him. Name on it and everything. And as fate should see it, maybe it was a sign.

Read: Steve Harrington is fucked in the head and is going to do something about it.

Read: Steve Harrington brandishes a weapon and he knows how to use it.

Read: Steve Harrington wants to die and has wanted to for a really long time.

Longer than he cares to admit.

He flicks the handle, blade unsheathing with a quick schtick! It’s shiny and clean. Never used. There’d been a back up pocket knife, one he was given from his dad; it was only ever used for shotgunning beers. Couldn’t bring himself to use it for anything else outside of that. And he couldn’t ever hurt himself, not when he was swimming and playing basketball. Everybody would see. Everybody would know. He was known, sure, but not known, and the prospect of that brings a fresh wave of goosebumps to his arms. Unless that’s the cold. But the point still stands.

The knife he currently has, shiny and clean, it could use a little grit to it. Some roughage.

Why hadn’t he killed himself, though? Was it the blood that made him squeamish? The fact he’d hurt anyway? He could drown, but then there was the problem of his bloated corpse. And there was the possibility of overdosing, but then somebody would go all detective on his stupid body, trace back the ketamine in his system to Eddie…Eddie doesn’t deserve that.

He’s had plans. They were kind of…intrusive, though. Made in a split second decision. The ketamine one, he almost went through with that. Bought as much as he was allowed to purchase in one sitting, whatever Eddie was willing to part with—years ago, he has half a mind to squander, he doesn’t sell like that anymore—and then he’d return a few days later, stock up some more…he was just gonna go for it. All in one sitting. Lock the bathroom door behind him. He had even brought in a dining chair the night he was going to, set it up underneath the doorknob and everything, yet when it came to the actual drugs…

The toilet had a very open mouth and very willing stomach that night.

There was the quarry. He’d only been there a few times. Not since Will’s “body” had been discovered, but he’d been there before. It was always during a morning jog. Crisp autumn air, low hanging fog, nobody on the roads. Steve would make a detour, in his short sleeve t-shirt and even shorter shorts, and he’d jog right up to the edge.

It was farther and farther and farther down the more he went. The more he grew. Even when he sat, he was taller than the time before. Sometimes he’d throw a rock, watch it skitter down the sharp edges of other rocks, listen until the sound disappeared, until the only thing that gave proof it was there were the ripples in the water far below. There was always a passing thought, though, that he’d leave a lot more evidence behind. Every sharp edge stained with proof of him. He wanted nothing left in his wake. Wanted it to look like somebody had just snatched him while he was out, dumped him in the water, had very little care for his body. Because who would care? No, if he went through with his plan, there’d be evidence. The news would break: Steve Harrington, age 15, Death By Suicide. Or would they publish it? Beat around the bush, probably. Save face and all.

Point is, there had been plans steadily over the years. Each one getting smaller and smaller and lesser and lesser. It was always the clean up that startled him. The fear that little bits and pieces of him would be left behind. Vomited foam from his mouth, blood from his head, the wet shadow of his body pulled from the pool. He’d be everywhere. And everyone would know.

Steve Harrington was suicidal.

King Steve Harrington had problems.

Steve Harrington was a scared little boy, hardly a man, and oh how fun that is to laugh at.

Who would miss him? Well and truly miss him?

At eighteen? Dustin. Maybe Nancy. Maybe even Jonathan. They’d would’ve gotten over it, wouldn’t they have? Poor Steve Harrington, the ex and the babysitter. At fifteen? Just Tommy and Carol. He always imagined it, people like Barb and Nancy and Robin and Eddie, all of them adrift by the news, but later getting over it. Just a ‘who cares’ thrown over their shoulder, a ‘good riddance’ in the back of their mind they’d never admit to. At twelve? Bobby in the A/V club, who always welcomed Steve with a gap-toothed grin and his wide bright eyes, making sure there was always space for his confused questions. The kid that some time later, Steve watched get his head swirled in a toilet, laughing at how he sputtered. At eight? His mom. She would’ve been inconsolable. Though, she would be young enough, maybe she could’ve tried again.

Now, though?

There’s…there’s too many people to even name.

God, way too many people.

He was staying for them, never himself. Got a best friend and a few pseudo siblings, his adopted dads in Hopper and Wayne…and he’s got a boyfriend that nobody knows about. He’s got everything.

Why is he still here? With the knife in his hand? In the cold? Frostbitten and scared?

Underneath all the scars, the anger, the hair, he’ll always be that scared little boy. The little boy afraid of his dad—the monster he lives with. Of drunk hands and slurred words, cigar smoke and stale dinners, wooden paddles and leather belts. He’ll always be the little boy that cried in his knees, hidden in the depth of his closet, under tens of old clothes, hanging on for dear life. Always be the kid that called his best friend, Tommy, when things went to shit. Phone cradled to his ringing ear, a slap still stern across his cheek, and needing instructions from Tommy’s parents on how to use a first aid kit.

He’s gotten better at discerning what he needs from the kit. Not because of alternate dimension beings, though. No, due to the monster that sits at his dining table, sipping Jack with glazed eyes and sorrowed brows, angry veins and angrier words. Asshole.

Steve was scared. Vulnerable. Soft-bellied. And he was small, despite being so big, he was always smaller than he showed. Any sign of himself—this true self, squirmy and squeamish and small—that would be it. He didn’t want to be known. Didn’t want to be found out.

But then, here he was, holding the knife.

Distantly, he hears the slow jog of heavy steps. He has the wherewithal to recognize he should stow away the knife, deep in his pocket where nobody can see. Though, as it glistens and blinks—mesmerizing him—he leaves it wide open.

This isn’t the first time he’s been here.

It needs to be his last.

“Stevie!” Tommy shouts somewhere on his left. Steve’s head swivels to the sound of his own nickname. Jogging up one of the clearer snow paths, Tommy’s making quick work of getting to him. He’s in heavier clothes than Steve is: a beat-up Carhartt jacket, thick and long jeans, brown work boots, a tartan red scarf wrapped messily on his neck, mittens, and a beanie with a big pom-pom on the top. As he gets closer, Steve can hear his heavy breathing, see the puffs that emanate from the frigid air. Still got that boyish way to him. A million freckles, those soft brown eyes, his pearly white teeth. The first boy Steve ever thought to kiss; the first and last boy to break his heart. “Steve,” Tommy murmurs now that he’s close, “hey…hey, I found you.”

He can’t move from his spot on the bench. It’s cold. His bottom aches from the chill of the wood, but he can’t make himself get up. Legs like lead. That knife still heavy. And he might cry if he speaks right now.

Tommy can see him. Truly see him.

For the first time.

Steve can catch the exact moment Tommy spots the unsheathed, flipped open knife. His eyes widen a fraction, eyebrows shooting up to the edge of his hat, his light smile fading into the paleness of his cheeks. He stutters in his settling, standing frozen to the spot. Like he became one with the slick ice. He’d do something like laugh at the expression, but again, it may just catch like a sob.

“You…you have a knife,” Tommy dumbly points out. His eyes dart away from the blade, though. He’s forcing himself to not look. To ignore it. Setting his focus on Steve’s face instead. “Your lips,” he whispers, “what’re you doin’ out here without a scarf? And your gloves and coat and…you need to be warm.” With great speed, the same quickness Steve used to see on the high school’s track, Tommy is unwrapping the scarf from around his neck. Gently, he tucks it on Steve’s, forcing it to sit tight against his going blue lips. Then, he’s tugging off his jacket, slipping Steve’s left arm through one of the sleeves. But by the time he makes it to the right—“Stevie, can I…I need to take the knife from you, okay? I need to get you warm.”

He can’t move his hand.

But his eyes stay on Tommy’s. Big on his sunken face, burning hot with fresh tears, chin wobbling. He can’t even ask.

“I’m gonna take it,” Tommy gently says, “put it in my pocket, okay? Just for a little while.” Slow now, he reaches for the knife. When Steve doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even flinch, he takes it in his grip. It’s probably the only thing about him that’s warm, if the surprise on Tommy’s face says anything. But he ignores that, too. Simply folds it up—schtick!—and buries it deep in the front left pocket of his jeans. Just like that.

Like it was nothing.

The outline of its handle in Tommy’s pocket is something, though. Heavier than it seems.

Had it looked like that in Steve’s sweatpants? All weighted and obvious?

He pities himself—the fool.

Tommy continues to take care of him, though, one piece of clothing at a time. The jacket all zipped, mittens on Steve’s numb hands, beanie on his big head. And when he’s done, he steps back with a tight, light smile. “There,” he breathes, “all done.” He tucks the scarf tighter again, as if he can manifest it to be warmer. Then, softly, he takes Steve’s hands in his own, rubbing them with his palms. Forcing them to get warmer. “Can I get you to come with me to my car? Let me turn on the heater and warm you up?”

Steve blinks. The first thing he feels on his face since he finished sobbing on the phone—a single hottear. “Are you taking me home?” he asks, wobbly and so unusual, even for himself. It makes him sound like a little kid. A little, vulnerable, very afraid kid.

“No,” Tommy murmurs—simple—“I’m not. We are going to drive around for a few, so you get warmed up in the car, get you a gas station hot chocolate—which will taste and feel amazing right now—and then I’m going to take you wherever you want to go.” He pats Steve’s shoulders with both of his hands, almost like he’s reminding himself that Steve is still right there. To touch. Alive. “How’s that sound?”

He nods once. Then, he blinks and shakes his head. Nods. Shakes. “I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, muffled by the scarf, “I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, no, I don’t want an apology. No apologies allowed. I’m glad you called.” Tommy squeezes Steve’s shoulders, looking dead on. There’s something watery in his gaze now. He doesn’t let it fulfill. “I’m really glad you called, okay? Let’s go to the car to warm up. And if…if you want to talk about it, we’ll talk. My ears are yours and my lips are sealed, you know that.”

They make their way back one slow step at a time. Their arms are hooked like they’re on some winter wonderland walk date. It’s fucked sideways, completely fucked, but Steve smiles small behind his scarf anyway. Tommy’s trying to fill the silence, something about baseball and little league and coaching, but Steve’s too lost in the warmth seeping through his body. The heat that makes him feel truly like a dancing flame, alive.

He’s still bad enough to know that once tonight is through, wherever he ends up, he’ll be left bereft with the consequences of his own actions. Probably something about disappearing in the middle of the night from his dad, something worse if his mind’s eye isn’t playing tricks. A lot of people will have questions as to why they’re seeing Tommy Hagan around a lot more—wandering into the Family Video just to talk to Steve, swooping into their local diner just to grab some fries with a wave at Steve, hanging around the arcade just to catch Steve beating his own high score. Nobody has to know what happened tonight.

But if he doesn’t talk, eventually he’ll self-immolate. Implode.

Steve Harrington, 19, Found Dead in Ditch; does not sound appealing. It wouldn’t make sense, he’s a great driver. He’d make it look like an accident, though. He’s still too much of a live-wire for a million and one questions, let alone all the queues being dispersed among so many people.

He needs help, he knows that. How does he ask for it, though? Who’s going to be less judgmental when he finds the strength to ask? Or is it going to be just as he feared? Under a microscope, people poking and prodding, local town pariah for being so mentally unwell. It happened to Eddie’s mom.

Maybe he’d be the only one to truly grasp it.

The conversations that have to be had, though, are daunting. Less daunting, however, than the knife still stowed in Tommy’s pocket.

He’s just sat in the passenger seat, reclined the way he likes with the door shut behind him, when Tommy abruptly turns on the car and starts messing with the dials on his vents. Pointing every single one at Steve, cranking that heat up. His radio is on, too, playing a mixtape on low volume. It’s the one Steve made him in their freshman year—“Nowhere Man” by The Beatles is just starting.

“Rubber Soul?” Steve finds himself mumbling.

“Hm?” Tommy stops moving for a moment, seatbelt halfway to being buckled, darting his eyes to the radio. “Oh—yeah, yeah! Remember, you showed me this album? One of my favorites, man. Always liked this song the most…you put it on this tape twice just to make sure I heard it.” He smiles at Steve. Bright and happy, his eyes squinting and his freckles bunching. It’s always been a great smile.

It’s been a while since it was pointed at him.

He likes it.

Wishes these were better circumstances. That they had been better people. That they’d survived. Maybe if they both weren’t so conniving and embarrassing and crude. One day, he thinks he can forgive Tommy. Not now, not for a while.

Tonight, though, he can learn to thank him.

Maybe that in itself is forgiveness enough for Steve, but even then, it takes more than a few good years of near radio silence to pass them by.

“Let me just”—Tommy whispers, leaning in. He reaches for the seatbelt, stretching it across Steve’s rigid body, and safely clicks it into place. There’s a moment where he lingers, staring, darting his eyes over every minuscule part of Steve’s face. Up close, there are definitely unshed tears in Tommy’s stare, but he just smiles. Small and safe, just for them, he smiles again. He pulls back to his own seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hovering over the gearstick.—“there we go, all tucked away. Sorry if the jacket is a little tight, it was the only winter coat I could find, guess it’s getting up there in years.”

Steve blinks and settles his head deeper into the headrest. Exhausted, he doesn’t say anything else.

Tommy seems to allow it, pulling away from the curb and back onto the empty street. He’s going at a snail’s pace, most likely because he doesn’t have chains on his tires. But he keeps his focus on the road ahead, unlike the him of previous years. Sitting passenger in Steve’s car, talking directly at him, not sparing a glance out the window. Instead, he looks forward, occasionally squeezing the leather of his steering wheel tighter. His eyes are darting, though. Nervous. Scared.

They pass by a few dark houses. Some small stores.

And then the gas station is pulling into view, Tommy slowing to turn into the parking lot, putting it in park. He turns to Steve, eyes big and dark in the dim light of his car. “I’m gonna go in there and fetch a large hot chocolate for you. D’you want me to grab anything else?”

He shrugs.

“Hey,” Tommy murmurs, “let me take care of you for a little bit, okay? Drive you around, get you some things you need.” He reaches out, gently squeezes Steve’s left forearm. His thumb is tracing the seam of the jacket’s sleeve. “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “…maybe just some peanut butter cups?”

Tommy nods. “‘Course. Want some Reeses Pieces, too? I remember you liked those.”

“No, it’s okay. Shouldn’t put you out like that anyway.”

The fingers still resting on his forearm tighten. Squeezing so hard, Steve can feel the bite of his fingernails. “You aren’t putting me out, Stevie. It’s no big deal.”

Up close, he can make out the eye bags and dark circles under Tommy’s eyes. The tired fold of his smile. Laziness creeping back onto his face. Probably tired as hell.

“Just those things. Don’t need anything else, promise.”

For a brief, brief moment, Tommy remains rooted to his seat. Something flickers through his face. A shuttering shimmer of daylight, darkening in the edges the way a vignette photograph does. It’s not confusion or disbelief or anger. A sadness, maybe. A fear.

But then Tommy is heaving himself out of the car, keys still in the ignition, radio volume low, heaters pulling their weight.

Steve glances out the passenger side window. At the chainlink fence on the edges of this gas station parking lot, curled into itself and overgrown with wild weeds. Some needles are littered at the base of the fence—he wonders where those people are now. Were they looking for a little relief? Partying with the hard stuff for the sake of it? The thrill of it?

How many of them were like him?

How many were there?

His reflection is blinking in the glass of his window, peering out softly at the needles. What if there was only one? Just as young. Just as scared. With nobody there to pick them up, take them out of their head, be patient. Nobody, not even an old friend, not even a neighbor. He wonders if this person—this figment—was running from something. Feelings, responsibilities, the very thing they feared. Seeking shelter, semblance of a normal in the dark parking lot of their local gas station chain.

Maybe they made it out. Got away from their head in that manner. Maybe they see the needles, too. Putting themself in those shoes, some of them new, some of them dirty, some of them laced, some velcro. He hopes they got their peanut butter cups and hot chocolate. Hopes they got a soft ending; wherever they may have ended up; whoever they ended up being.

Glancing out the windshield, he spots Tommy looking back at him, as if checking to see if he’s still there. His stomach turns over, clenching hard at the reason why. The fact he put that worry there. Shit.

And then, finally, he gets a good catch of himself in his overhead mirror. There are barely any lights around that illuminate his face, just whatever shines outwards from within the little convenience store. His hair is tucked away in the beanie, not wild from the wind like he had been expecting. His cheeks are puffy, starting to redden with color, from the heat in the car. But his eyes.

Flat, pink, bloodshot, yet empty.

No wonder Tommy keeps looking at him. He put that worry there, in the absence of himself, he instilled that worry. The fear.

Tommy eventually comes back out, swinging into the car with a to-go carrier of hot chocolates, and a crinkling plastic bag in the crook of his left elbow. He settles in his seat, off loading the carrier to Steve, regaling him to divvying out the drinks. Once he’s in, buckled and warmed, he reaches for the ignition.

“Can we stay here for a minute?” Steve meekly asks.

All at once, Tommy stops in his tracks. Sitting back. “Y-yeah, dude, sure. Just figured you’d wanna see around first, give yourself some time to…to think, I guess.”

He hands off one of the hot chocolates when Tommy reaches out for it, saying in the process, “I feel like I’ve done enough thinking tonight. Enough for a lifetime.”

There’s a sharp inhale at that. “I get that,” Tommy murmurs, “seems like there’s a lot of empty time on my hands these days.”

Steve sniffs, takes a swig of his drink, hums unconsciously at the flavor. “What are you up to these days? ‘Sides saving my sorry, stupid ass.”

“You’re not stupid, Steve. Don’t say shit like that.” He’s momentarily frozen in his seat, as Tommy’s eyes ice over to him. “And I already told you, I’m glad you called me.”

“You were asleep. You could’ve told me that. I would’ve found somebody else.”

“I wanted to get you,” Tommy insists. “It doesn’t matter how much time or space or whatever other garbage is between us, if you call me, I’m gonna be there. Even if you need me to—fucking, I don’t know—tie your shoes or something.”

Steve traces the lid on his cup with the thick thumb of his mitten. Words caught splintered in his throat, dead.

At his silence, Tommy lets out a sad little sigh. And then he goes quiet for a moment, too.

The air isn’t exactly tense, but it isn’t pleasant either. Thick, heavy, and warm. Maybe it’s the heater vents, the million layers he was forced into, the hot chocolate in his hands. It’s not even a good hot chocolate—Wayne Munson is the king of that—but he can appreciate it for what it is. A chance to make sure that he isn’t going to collapse in on himself.

It’s an appeasement. In a way, he’s being convinced to stay.

“What would it take to show you that you’re worth caring for?” Tommy suddenly breaks through. “Because I…I know I was going to let you talk about it in your own time, but…Steve, I want to be there, but I can’t always be there. And I. I have to be honest, right?

“I’m always going to try and save you. I’ll always come to your side when you call me, even if it’s been months or, shit, even years. But what happens when the next time I’m out here in the cold, your toes are too far over the edge? What if I go to grab the back of your shirt and it rips in my grip? What if…what if you can’t be patient anymore?” He won’t look up from the lid of his cup. Won’t answer, not yet. Right, passes through his head, he’s right. You know he is. Tommy’s gaze is set on his face, shiny in his peripheral. “I love you with every piece of me, again, no matter what, I’m always gonna love you. Just…

“Steve, I’m worried one day I won’t reach you.

“Or that I’m gonna come across…that you won’t be there by the time I arrive,” he stresses, “and I don’t want any of that to happen. Seriously, whether you’re my best friend or fuckin’ best enemy or whatever, I still care about you. You were still my first friend, the first person outside of my family that I was hugging, my first camaraderie, and you were my first wake-up call.”

Finally, he drags his eyes up. Burning, heavy, aching, Steve blearily looks to Tommy. Caught up in the blur of his own vision, unable to see even two feet ahead of him. His whole everything aches. Every ember of his soul. The drip of his blood, rushing straight to his toes, up to his no longer numb fingers.

The world’s a fireplace around him, words sound like near deathbed confessions, and he can taste his stale breath cutting through the chocolate. He never did get his glass of water. Can’t believe he let his dad play into this. Into tonight.

“Tommy,” he chokes out. “I don’t…I don’t know what you want me”—

“Sorry,” Tommy whispers, “I’m sorry. That was a lot and all at once. I just care about you, man.” He reaches out, grabbing for Steve’s forearm once more. Fingers tense and tight in his jacket. “I’d hate to see you gone. You deserve to be here, to be cared for. Please, Steve, just let me care about you for tonight. Please.”

Bending forward, Steve places his hot chocolate in the cup holder closest to him. Having his ear closer to the speaker, he can hear “Nowhere Man” again—or what must be for the second time. Tommy was always trying to make Steve feel better, even if sometimes how he showed it seemed impossibly stupid; but maybe the song wasn’t purposefully put on the cassette twice, he has half a mind to realize, Tommy didn’t want him to feel dumb for what he did.

Slowly, he peels off his mittens, fingers sweating with anticipation to not be so damn hot. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tommy begin to lurch forward, stop him, but Steve only works faster. Just so he can place the naked skin of his right palm over the back of Tommy’s. Their skin joins in a puddle of malleable warmth. And even further, the hand under his turns, palm now up, gripping tight to his fingers. He rests his head against the passenger window, looking out at the bottom of the fence again.

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmurs.

“Stop apologizing. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I”—

He’s silenced with an even tighter pressure to the tips of his fingers. So hard that he can feel the way Tommy’s wrist shakes with the force. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m not asking for it. It’s not necessary.”

Steve nods against the window. Beanie pushing up, hair falling free against his forehead. “Okay,” he crackles.

Again, Tommy’s moving, his shirt rustling against the leather seat. But he’s closer, if the warmth of his shoulder bleeding into Steve’s says anything. “Hey”—he tugs their joined hands, Steve glances over—“you think you can talk to me? Tell me what happened?”

Shrugging, Steve sighs. “Just…what I said earlier. Trying to get some water, Dad’s in the kitchen starting shit. Guess I just…just pussy-ed out. Went running out the door.”

Tommy swallows hard. “Did he…”

“He tried to get his hands on me,” Steve admits quietly, confessing what Tommy already knew. “But he was so drunk, he swung and stumbled. Made it out of there with my hair still intact.” His shoulder hurts in this angle. But he doesn’t want to pull his hand away, not when it gets another squeeze, not when he earns Tommy’s thumb rubbing into his knuckles. “I think he’s waiting up on me,” he whispers, “I can feel him, even here in the car, standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the front door. Like he did when I had weed that one time…couldn’t lay on my back after what he did that night.”

“I hate him,” Tommy darkly murmurs. “I’d kill him if I wasn’t so much shorter than that fuckwad.”

Dryly, Steve snorts. Rolls his eyes. “You’d give him a swirly and his face would get all red from how angry he’d be. From humiliating him. We’d call ‘im cherry cheeks for a week. ’Til he caught on.”

In the reflection of his window, he can see Tommy nod in agreement, smug little smirk on his face. “Until he caught on.” He shifts again, shoulder melting into Steve’s. “And then you decided to go on a midnight walk…did he take your car keys or something?”

“I didn’t really think about the car, Tommy. I just went. It was a dumb thing to do. But, well, I don’t make good decisions,” he states bitterly.

“Well, you called me and now you’re here.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that.

There’s a squeeze to his hand that has him looking over. “So…did you…were you planning on…”

He shakes his head. “Guess I grabbed the knife without thinking. Self-defense or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Tommy mutters. And there he goes, squeezing at Steve’s fingers again. It’s nice, though. The contact, warmth, the reminder. He twists his head so that they’re looking straight on each other, even as his neck contorts uncomfortably. “I’m glad I got to the park when I did,” he murmurs, “the world wouldn’t be the same without you, Steve. It really, really wouldn’t.”

“You’re just saying that,” Steve mumbles.

“Hey, I mean it. Who else would be there to call your dad cherry cheeks? Tell him he looks like a big, ugly oaf?” He snorts at that, a smile itching to make itself known. Tommy nudges him, shakes him, smirks. “Also, dude, the world needs a little bit more light, don’t you think? Who else is gonna call me on my bullshit? Knock me upside the head to tell me how much of a bigoted turd I’m being. You keep the balance, you bring the laughter, you bring the warmth, man. Nothing would be the same if you just…”—poof!—“left,” he whispers.

“Think someday I’ll believe you.”

Tommy shrugs. “Someday is better than never. But you better. Because I’m right.”

“When have you ever been right about something?”

“Well, I may be kinda thick in the head…but when have I lied to you?”

“I don’t know, think I can think of a few…”

“Those were well meaning lies! Like for your birthday that one year! You almost saw me wrapping up that new pack of baseballs—no way in hell was I going to let your snooping little ass ruin the surprise I had been sweating over for hours!”

There’s a big fat smile on both their faces, mirrored in each other’s all too expressive eyes. Tommy’s alight, Steve’s finally full. The laughter they share trickles out into shaky, steadying breaths. And for a moment, things are just like normal. Another late night with his old best friend, kicking rocks and talking shit. A time before.

Oh so before.

Tommy nudges him again. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

Steve chuckles, shoulders jumping with it. “Sure, dude,” he sighs, “let’s get outta here.”

The hand in his lingers for a beat, then two, a third. It tenses, pressing deep into his knuckles. And retreats. Thrown into his lap is the crinkling plastic bag from the store. Inside are at least three packs of peanut butter cups—way more than he asked for.

He looks up at Tommy, ready to protest. Instead, he gets a wink. “Our secret, Stevie-boy, you peanut butter fiend.” And then they’re off, driving aimlessly on the empty streets of Hawkins.

As the sun begins to rise, coloring their cheeks with tangible warmth, snow beading on the sidewalk, brown wrappers tossed aside, Steve is somewhat content. Rustling with nerves, knowing full well that Tommy still has that knife. But he’s…relaxed, nerveless, almost free.

All without the pain. All without the task of planning. All without the fear of saying goodbye—Steve is free.

They wind down familiar roads. Until, eventually, Tommy cracks with a yawn.

“Getting tired?” Steve mumbles.

“Oh, I’ve been tired. It’s fine, though. I can be out a little bit longer.”

“Nah, you don’t gotta. Think I’m ready to hit they hay, dude.”

Tommy sniffs. Runs a hand over his mouth, lets it fall back down to his lap, hitting the handle of the knife with the hilt of his palm. “Where do you want me to take you, Stevie?”

“I…I have an idea. But, uh, you’ll promise to keep the secret to yourself?”

He shifts nervously, catching Tommy give him a confused little quirk. “As long as it’s not gonna hurt you, sure. What…this sounds big.”

Steve swallows, nods, squeezes his hands into fists until his nails just begin to bite. The passenger window is enticing. “Remember that one secret years and years ago? When, uh, when we were kinda tipsy and hanging out by the pool and it was just us and”—

“The kiss thing, right?”

He inhales sharply. “Yeah, the…the kiss thing.”

“You can talk to me, Steve. I’m an asshole, but I’m not Brutus, man. Not gonna betray you for spilling your guts.”

“You promise you’ll keep it to yourself?”

In the blink of an eye, Tommy is pulling over to the curb. Slow and careful like. Twisting in his seat to face Steve, he only swivels his head to follow suit. “My ears are yours and my lips are sealed, remember? Hell, you don’t even need to tell me if you think it’s not safe to do so.”

Steve nods, slowly, absorbing. “Um…I-I have a partner.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Tommy asks, voice dropped low like anybody within a 100 mile radius could hear them. It’s a startling question, but it’s a soft one nonetheless.

“Yeah…he…he’s really good at taking care of me, y’know. And we look out for each other. He tells me I can come to him any time, if I need anything…anything.”

“Is it okay if I know who it is? Or is that…”

“I mean, I figured you’ll need to know to take me there? But, uh, Eddie Munson? Forest Hills?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise slightly. He blinks. Takes in a slow breath. Then, quietly, “At the far end of the park, right? Near those swings?”

“Um…y-yeah. Yeah, near the swings.” Without responding, Tommy turns towards the steering wheel, shifting gears, pulling away from the curb. He makes a U-turn, back the way towards Forest Hills. “Is that…you’re not gonna say anything, right? Please don’t say anything.”

“My lips are sealed,” Tommy repeats. “I’m just…little surprised, I guess. Not about—Not that you two are, like, gay and into each other or something. Just…you guys have things to talk about? Get along okay?”

“He’s crafty. So, sometimes, we’ll watch a game together—whatever’s on—and he’ll listen to me rant and cheer and stuff, ask me about the stats…usually, he sits next to me and paints or draws or whatever. We keep each other entertained.”

Tommy nods in his peripheral. “Good, that’s good. Does he know about your…your mom? Your dad?”

“You’re the only one who knows about my mom. Figured it didn’t matter to bring it up, I guess. I mean, Nancy might know, but…I don’t know. It’s not important.”

“‘Course it’s important, Steve. Her death kinda hit you sideways…in a lot of ways, actually. It’s good, y’know, to talk about that kinda stuff. Plus, well, I’m sure Eddie would understand, right?” Steve shrugs at that. Tommy must be able to see it. “You don’t know about his mom? That’s a conversation you guys should have, dude. That was pretty big, last I remember.”

“Why do you know that?”

“This kid was picking on Eddie back in high school. Picking on him about his mom. Think I gave that kid a black eye or two…what a shitty thing, shitting on somebody ‘cause their fucking parent died.” Tommy begins to slow on the road, blinker clicking as he signals turning into the Forest Hills drive. “But he’d understand, that’s all I’m saying. Plus, you need more people in your corner. More people to rely on. Not that—I mean, I love being there for you, dude. I just…it would be good.

“When my parents divorced, I relied on you, sure. But I had a few other people, too. Some teachers. Principal Higgins. Even Mrs. Byers…which kinda shocks me, considering how I treated her kid. Makes me feel sick thinking about that.”

Steve blinks, notices they’re outside Eddie’s trailer, parked next to his shit-box of a van. He gets a good look at Tommy’s side profile. Gently aged. “You grew up,” he states.

“Best fucking feeling in the world. Should’a followed in your footsteps, Stevie. Should’a quit being an asshole when it was time.”

“But you did eventually.”

Tommy gives a slow nod, unbuckling himself. “Yeah, well. There’s a time for everything.” He looks over to Steve. God, his big brown eyes look even bigger in the sunlight. Even gentler. Even sweeter. “Can I walk you up to the door?”

“I don’t know…Eddie might”—

“I kinda need to talk to him anyway. It’s important.”

“Yeah, okay…okay.”

By the time they make it up the steps, peanut butter cups stored deep in Steve’s pocket, Eddie’s already swinging the door open. There’s a look of apprehension on his face, darting his eyes between Steve and Tommy. A bite behind his lip that he’s very noticeably trying to hide away. “Stevie,” he greets softly, “what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um…I…I had a bad night,” Steve quietly admits, “thought I’d come here, after Tommy helped me.”

The screen door opens wider. Eddie’s face goes soft, deeper. “Everything alright? Nobody’s hurt, are they?”

Steve swallows, shifts uneasily. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now, please. Just…can I hang out for a bit? Maybe nap?”

Eddie’s already placing a hand on the center of Steve’s back, ushering him in. “Of course, just go in and get comfortable, I’ll meet you inside in a second.”

As soon as he steps inside, the door shuts behind him. Muffled conversation is all he hears, retreating to Eddie’s room. In a matter of minutes, stuffy jacket taken off, he’s dozing.

——— “Alright, what’re you doing here?” Eddie asks, finally addressing Tommy.

In front of him, Tommy shifts uncomfortably. “Listen, I know you don’t trust me. I get it. But I…I just need to talk to you, okay? It’s about Steve.”

“If you’re here to talk shit on him after he was lookin’ like that, then you can take your sorry ass”—

“He called me, ‘bout a couple hours ago, sobbing on the phone. His dad’s being a real piece of work. Just a total shitbag, okay? And he called me from the park by his house, talking to me about his dad, and I couldn’t just leave him there. Kept zoning out on the phone, sobbing, I couldn’t just leave him there.” Tommy thrusts his hand into his pocket, producing a pocket knife from it.

Eddie startles back slightly, a half-step backwards. “Why do you”—

“I found him there, completely out of it on a bench, with this fucking knife in his hand. It was open. Like he was…and I took it from him, kept it from him. Took him around town for a bit, trying to get him not to spook, y’know?” The knife is warm, placed heavily in Eddie’s palm, fingers curling tight around it. “He was going to do it. If I hadn’t gotten there, if he had never called me…I don’t even want to think about it.

“But he told me that you guys take care of each other. And he told me that if he had something, he could go to you for it. I’m just. I’m worried, okay? I can’t always be there to save him, he needs more people in his corner—people who are not going to judge him—because I can’t fathom with”—Tommy’s voice wobbles, thickens—“with losing him. And I know you’d be absolutely wrecked, if what he told me ‘bout your relationship is true”—

“You know about us?”

“That’s not important,” Tommy emphasizes. “Just don’t let him get this, okay? Keep an eye on him. He needs it. I care about him, even if it doesn’t seem that way, I do. He was my whole world up until our junior year. If something happened to him—fuck—I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know…I don’t…”

Eddie’s not used to people crying around him. The only people who have are, well, Wayne and Steve.

But Tommy’s shoulders shake, his whole back heaving. Each sob caught on a choked breath. His eyes squinting into themselves, skin going splotchy with the effort.

Without a care for image, Eddie is stepping forward again, wrapping Tommy in a tight hug.

He doesn’t get Steve and Tommy’s whole dynamic. Not at all. All he knows is that they had a falling out. But he gets it, calling on the past to try and ground the present, that’s something Eddie’s been doing his whole life. Nostalgia or something. Relying on the lucidity of memories to bring him back. But if Tommy says something’s bad, sobbing so bad he’s choking with it, then it’s something worth tucking away.

And with that knife heavy in Eddie’s hand, he sees what Tommy’s doing.

He understands it.

He fucking gets it.

“Sorry,” Tommy muffles into his shoulder, “shit, I’m sorry. The world wouldn’t be the fuckin’ same if he—god, shit—he’s too good to do shit like that.”

Eddie’s squeezing so tight his knuckles hurt. “I’ve got him,” he swears into Tommy’s hair, “I’m not letting him get away like this again. I promise, man, I fucking promise.”

“Be easy on him,” Tommy murmurs, “he’s easily spooked.”

“I know, fuck, I know.”

Tommy pats him on the back in that dude-bro way. And then he’s pulling away, wiping hastily at his eyes. “If you guys need anything, you can call me. I know I’m not the best person, but I can try. Fuck, for anybody in Steve’s life, I can try.”

Swallowing down his own wave of tears, Eddie nods. “You in the yellow pages?”

“Yup. Leonard Hagan’s residence. Think it’s somewhere in the 130s.”

“I’ll reach out. ‘Specially if I can’t get to him.”

“I got him some peanut butter cups. Works wonders with trying to get him to open up.”

There’s a small little smile on Tommy’s face, knowing and soft. Eddie chuckles airily. “Yeah, he’s a peanut butter goblin or something. Think he ate eighty percent of my last jar, honest to God.”

“He’ll do that to you. Think he still owes me at least three jars.” Tommy reaches out again, patting Eddie on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Eddie. Keep an eye on him for me, yeah?”

“Nothing else I’d rather do.”

☎️—————☎️

[i-m-snek]

I can't believe just how far Sweetpea has come!

She's still looking for her forever home, she is always going to have some issues in general from her MBD, and may never fill out to look 'normal weight'. She can't be on any loose substrates due to a weaker digestive system, again, due to MBD/prior starvation. I am looking for someone fairly close (Arizona, United States. I will not be shipping her due to her size, even in a large box if it's flipped over she wouldn't be able to get herself back upright.) Who has a lot of prior experience with bearded dragons. *I will not make exceptions on that, she is not a starter reptile* She also struggles to balance on branches, so any climbing apparatus needs to be low to the enclosure floor. Personality: She loves basking in the sun outside, her favorite food is red bell pepper, but she will eat the heck out of different types of squash as well. Zuchinni and yellow squash are her main foods currently, she'll also eat collard greens, just less enthusiastically. She hasn't turned her nose up at any bugs at all, she'll eat crickets, hornworms, dubia roaches, BSFL, etc. She's a cuddle bug, as her name implies. If you set her on your lap she'll nap for hours! She's slowly starting to be more active and use her legs more, and I'll often watch her march around her enclosure before settling for a nap. History: Sweetpea was bought as a subadult by a 16 year old kid, who swore to his mom that he'd care for her. Well, as it goes in these situations, the kid cared for a month before losing interest and feeding her -maybe- once a month. She didn't have proper UVB lighting, which made it impossible for her to metabolize her food and she slowly declined over time. Eventually the mom went into his room and found her, nearly on deaths door. Genuinely thought she had starved to death, but noticed her eye movement. She posted in a panic on facebook and someone saw it and contacted me. I almost didn't go get her because I thought it was a case of the dragon being in brumation and the owner not knowing they brumate. Beardies are a lot of work and I didn't want to add to my plate unless absolutely necessary. But I am so glad I did go get her. I had never seen such an emaciated bearded dragon in person before, and took her in as a foster immediately. The first two weeks I was scared I'd wake up to her dead, she refused all offers of food, I had to blend her food and syringe feed her very slowly every day as to not overload her organs. She wouldn't even look twice at live bugs, she had no appetite. Not only that, but she had 'rubber jaw', where after so long without UVB or calcium supplements their jaw just. Turns rubbery and flexible, so she couldn't chew at all. After about two weeks of syringe feeding, being under uvb, and carefully measured calcium supplements, her jaw strengthened enough that I was comfortable offering her solids. I had to put it directly into her mouth, but she started eating solid veggies. From there I taught her to once again eat on her own, and it's been uphill since then! Requirements: You -have- to have experience with bearded dragons, at least a couple years of owning an adult. She is a special needs dragon, and will likely never be a fully healthy dragon again. You have to have at least a 4 x 2 x 2 enclosure ready to go. She has to be kept on solid substrate (Sadly) such as tile or paper towel, as said earlier she cannot metabolize any swallowed substrate due to her weakened digestive system. I know its a lot, but she is a special needs dragon who has suffered so, so much. She deserves to have a happy, healthy life from now on with someone who knows what they're doing. Because of my requirements, I am not asking a rehoming fee. But I -am- requiring video or photo proof that you have experience with dragons, and proof of enclosure.

[guzhufuren]

Hey, I've noticed you've been pretty quiet lately and I hope you're doing okay. I know we're not friends or even mutuals so I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by messaging! I hope the world will treat you kindly and that you can find comfort and support if you need it 💕

hi sweetheart wow this is so genuinely nice and kind of you, thank you so much for caring to the point of reaching out

i'm on the way there! i will be okay, hopefully soon. it's not serious, i just had a medium sized break down after receiving a very negative comment on something i made, in mix with a bit of unrelated loneliness and yearning on top of that, plus many many 4am drowsy what-am-i-doing-with-my-life regretful thoughts that i have had in the last months swimming up. like for my unwellness history it's really only about 6 points on the scale where the maximum is 10, so not big. i turned all social apps off but couldn't shake off the distress caused by that one stranger on the internet being unkind to my project, despite knowing they were misunderstanding and were also not in a state to understand at all, so i was kind of confused about what's up with my brain and why it can't move on

and it was a good choice! because after being only with myself without any internet distractions for the first time in years, figured out in just a day that mood swings have been back for a while, over one month at least (so anger issues weren't totally Yunho's fault actually bless him), some other parts of mental health worsened too

got a grip on myself, went to my doctor, got back on meds, now i'm sleepy every minute of waking hours while my body is getting used to them again, but it's gonna be fine. received advice on how to write a mood log, turns out very helpful as additional treatment to keep hypomania and anxiety under control. i even started working out, doing memory exercises and preparing my exam notes tentatively, which is so hard and scary, oh my god, but i must. job search is even scarier but i'm working myself up to finding a good one with little, very very very very tiny steps but they are moving

in the first day of self made quarantine i rewatched the queer korean show Love for Love's Sake that cured me from depression for a while and from any possibility of suicidality for a lifetime last year. it didn't work the trick again, because i'm really not living in the best or even just calm psychological environment to let it do its magical healing thing the way it should, but it did give me new clarity and make me intensely cry some shit out, so that was also very nice

accidentally found the best fic ever and it brought me so much very needed comfort in the past week. it's sweet, funny and stress free. like a warm blanket. or a cup of vanilla cocoa that makes your cold toes tingle in winter. or a hug from the love of your life. first atz and woosan fic to enter my hall of all time longfic favourites. very rare honor but it deserves it completely

also found a bunch of bloggers who post videos of the ocean in Thailand, some even stream the beach 24/7. it's so cool, i watch it in the evenings for short periods of time. helps making it bearable to just survive here a little bit longer until i am able leave

i sort of of really like that when i don't spend 12 hours a day on the phone doing mind-numbing scrolling or posting, there is so much free time to do cool stuff? i have kinda felt like i can be back on here for a couple of days, but i still freak out a bit for two reasons. first, that bad comment is still hanging there and it still makes me too upset to open notifications or my own blog page, which is ridiculous but that's how my dumbass unwell-brain-made feelings are. so i will see how that goes away and i get over it like an adult. second, i'm scared to be sucked back in the addiction to the colourful little hellsite app so i usually end up throwing the phone away in panic after 5 minutes of the app being open. maybe i will work up to it more gradually, don't know, let's see how that goes too

thank you again my little treasure, i will happily take that kindness and comfort you offered here as you are a part of the world. and you can message without worrying anytime, no mutualship or officially labelled friendship necessary. i'm very cool with small amount of interactions, just not big on chatting online one on one for long and don't enjoy it super much. and also with how often i see you around we are considered friends for sure. so thank you again for being so sweet i really am so grateful to you for this, one hundred friend hugs in return

[iscdisc]

The Farmhouse Arc should've been the most significant character growth period for 2012 April as a character, and I kind of wanted to talk about that- Lmao

I apologize for not for recalling the user who's post I saw talking about this (I'll definitely @ them if I end up finding them / their post again-), but I recently came across somebody mentioning how they felt 2012 April should have experienced some self-loathing during The Farmhouse Arc given the whole Irma / Kraang Invasion situation-

I completely agree ! But that made me want to expand on that in my own way, because this is something that I genuinely enjoy getting into since there was so much potential (As most things in 2012 have-) that just didn't used,,

Since we've already established time and time again with this series that the writing is not as good as it could be, it "makes sense" that April barely felt any guilt outside of the initial S2 finale and the mistakes that she made don't even get brought up during the aftermath that is the Farmhouse Arc (If we're really being honest, they don't even really get brought up during the initial Season 2 finale- 💀). But if the show had better writing, April should have and would have felt more guilt / had that guilt be very apparent throughout the Farmhouse Arc in how she moves and talks to the Turtles + Casey during their stay there. Not to say that everything was entirely her fault, such as Irma being Kraang Subprime in disguise (She didn't ask for that nor did she cause that to happen-), but it should be acknowledged that their lack of an upper hand feels attributed to her actions the most in this particular Season finale.

I mean, honestly what was she even doing-?? I'm not trying to necessarily give a pass to Casey here, since I know that he was also goofing off / not taking things as seriously as he should have been even though he technically was helping Raph search for Karai- But at least he was with Raph, you know what I mean? Raph and Casey (technically) were searching the city for Karai as it means of protecting her and keeping her safe from the imminent Kraang Invasion (They were also looking for her post her mutation in general, but it was especially dire now-), Leo and Donnie (and Mikey technically-) are in the Lair deliberating on courses of action (Both on options to confront the incoming Kraang Invasion but also means of a safety net, something that Leo in particular was stressing they have outside of the city-). What is April doing during this time? What was her big contribution to this incoming threat? Hanging out with Irma. Like what- Lmao

I understand that like a lot of things that this show has 2012 April do or say, it's just used as a plot device or something to push the narrative that they're going for (Which is incredibly irritating, since it basically sacrifices any good character writing for her so that they can just move the plot along- Regardless of whether or not it makes sense for her as a character to do or not do- But I digress.), and this is just another example of that. But I would be lying if I said this particular aspect of the S2 finale has never made a lick of sense to me, even to this day. A second attempt at a Kraang Invasion is literally on the horizon, and instead of being with her team + actively helping / contributing in some way to this inevitable issue, April's hanging out with Irma-? The writers don't even give any context prior either, like the two of them coming from the movie theater or April's home or something. They provide no explanation as to why April's even spending her time with Irma in this moment.

Which, just like most things in this show, I'm not even saying that that had to have been a poor choice? This is why context is important- If they had shown April clearly stewing over the incoming Kraang Invasion as she's on her way to meet up with everybody else to discuss their options and Irma "just so happened" to essentially ambush April with her presence, thus making April feel obligated to entertain her for the time being? That would have made a lot more sense. It also would have been a great way to foreshadow the events to come in relation to Irma, since there would have been a clear atmosphere change and some unspoken reason as to why Irma wants her attention so badly right now- It also wouldn't have taken up a lot of runtime in my opinion, so I don't understand why they didn't do something like that? 💀

But to not derail from the initial point, (Given the poor writing, I know-) April basically brings a bunch of chaos to the Turtles (and Casey) and quite literally does the bare minimum about it. When she (unintentionally) reveals their home to the enemy, what does she do throughout that entire ambush? Hide. She doesn't even make any attempts to fight off the Kraang that are flooding into the Liar and essentially destroying their home.

What did she do after they escaped the sewers? Take them to her apartment, which initially was just meant to help Donnie get patched up before revisiting the chaos she (unintentionally) created, but instead April ends up staying in her apartment with her cowardly Father-?? For way longer than she should have. I understand that April does not control Donnie and it's not / shouldn't be her role to influence his decisions, but it was also upsetting to know that she was basically the reason Donnie was so inactive (Since he refused to "leave her side" or whatever-) and this in turn caused Mikey to also be inactive because (Rightfully so??) he's not going to go out there by himself- So April (more or less) was the reason why the three of them did nothing but wait around in her apartment until Raph and Casey arrived. She technically "did something" during the fight (more or less) with Kraang Prime in the Turtle Mech, but that only partially counts to me because that was more of a group effort (Since it's ideal for four people to be working the robot and she pulled like one lever or something like that- Lmao).

And of course, there was that psychic freakout that she had at the end of the S2 finale, but those never count to me because that's not something that she's consciously making an effort to do- If that makes sense? If April wasn't this special Human + Kraang Mutant Hybrid, she would just be freaking out like a regular person, and that would have done nothing for them- You know what I mean? (I really loathe these psychic freakouts that the writers have April do for this very reason-)

If you really pick apart April's role in the S2 finale, she mostly escalates the situation and does very very little to alleviate any of it or contribute positively in some way. Again, I acknowledge this is a poor writing decision and most likely influenced by their want to move the plot along and make this season finale "really dramatic"- But that doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to acknowledge it for what it is. Lmao

That being said though, I can now circle back to the topic at hand, which is that the Farmhouse Arc should've been a huge growth period or her as a character. ESPECIALLY in regards to her relationships with the Brothers and Casey.

The S2 finale should have been a situation that caused the group to view April differently. Not in the sense that they view her as an enemy or something of that nature, more that they're finally more openly acknowledging that she makes a lot of mistakes. Mistakes that they (More so the Brothers than Casey-) usually suffer the brunt of the consequences of. This is something that I feel is very apparent with her character (S2 the most-), and while that isn't a bad thing since a lot of characters in 2012 make mistakes, it's very obvious that the main group responds incredibly differently to her mistakes than any other character's mistakes. She's never forced to dwell on her wrongdoings or missteps, nor does the group ever harp on them or make her feel guilty for a prolonged duration of time like they do with other characters. We see this constantly throughout the series. The Brothers and Casey are always quick with their reassurance and understanding, always quick to tell her it isn't a big deal or that they got it handled, etc.

While it's not necessarily a bad thing to support her or make efforts to prevent her from developing a lack of self confidence, there's a fine line between giving support and coddling a person. Oftentimes, I feel like this teeters into the coddling side of things rather than genuinely supporting her. They essentially treat her like a child (so to speak), in the sense that they'd rather her believe that she "didn't do anything wrong" and that *everything's okay" instead of being honest when she makes mistakes or acts in ways that genuinely upsets them or off puts them.

THIS?? The S2 finale / Kraang Invasion?? This 1000% should have been the boiling point, and Raph in particular should've been the one to tip over the metaphorical pot. A theory that I have for the S2 finale going into the Farmhouse Arc that I believe holds up very well is Raph and Casey not being privy to the fact that April caused a lot of the chaos that they experienced during that finale. Of course, once they initially left New York City, their priorities were more focused on getting to safety (the O'Neil Farmhouse) and helping Leo in some way / shape / or / form giving his uncertain condition health wise. So it makes sense that this wasn't a topic of conversation immediately. However, it would not surprise me in the slightest if Donnie had made the decision to not tell Raph and Casey about what had transpired in the Lair that day (Or at the very least not the whole story, which would include April's involvement-). Convincing Mikey (And somewhat April-) to do the same. Because why wouldn't he? April's always been his top priority, and if not telling Raph and Casey the truth means protecting her, then he most likely will do that. Because I'm sure he knows Raph would be pissed beyond belief.

AND AS HE SHOULD BE- Hello?? If Raph found out that the reason why the Kraang Invasion began sooner than they planned thus causing them to be incredibly unprepared / their Lair got discovered and destroyed by said Kraang Invasion / Leo got separated from the group (And took on Shredder alone, but I fully acknowledge that that wasn't April's fault, I feel like that was a really stupid call on Leo's part during this finale-) / Splinter got separated from the group and this causing a domino effect that led him to confronting Shredder and being thrown further into the sewers and Raph ( + Donnie / Mikey / and April-) witnessing that horrific event was because of APRIL -?? Regardless of whether or not it was an accident, I think he would have a right to be upset with her. Because like I said before, she's had a lot of accidents that they've had to clean up before.

So just picturing Raph chewing her out at The Farmhouse and finally addressing how upset he's been with her in the past but bit his tongue so many times because she's supposed to be their friend?? That's "Chef's Kiss" tier conflict in my opinion. I genuinely feel like something of this nature was meant to happen and should have happened. A mistake of this caliber should have affected her relationships with them. Of course, Raph is the only one that I truly see being so unapologetically upset with April over this. Casey and Mikey would probably fall under some kind of murky mix of emotions, where they understand why they should be upset with her and to a degree they are, but they don't necessarily want to isolate her or cut her out of their lives- You know? I feel like their body language around her would be the biggest tell though, especially Mikey's, which I think would hurt April a lot (But it's not like she's really in a position to argue against it,,). I also think it would hurt Mikey a lot too, since being in this kind of position would make him incredibly uncomfortable for sure and I'd imagine he wouldn't like the way he's instinctively reacting to her presence nowadays,,

Donnie, of course, would be the only one "acting the same" towards April / around April. But deep down I think even he knows that something has changed between them, something that he would be in denial about for a majority of their stay there. I think this would have been a really great way to progress their relationship though- Both in the context of pushing for their romantic relationship (Which again, I personally am not a huge fan of 2012 Apritello, but I also don't want to exclude these things-) but also dismantling it entirely. On one hand, I think this would have been a really unique way to finally get Donnie to view April as an individual rather than simply the "object of his affections". Fully allowing those rose-colored glasses to be put aside for a second, you know? This should have been an event that tested his (so called) love for April in my eyes. Because if he doesn't love her and value her as a person, especially when she's at her lowest or has made some of her biggest mistakes (Ones that directly affect him-), then can he really say he loved her at all? I also think this should have been a great arc for Donnie as far as not making excuses for April anymore, since this is a bad habit he's (seemingly) nurtured. Learning that it's okay to be critical of her and these criticisms not drastically influencing their relationship or his affections towards her. But I can also see this skewing the complete opposite direction, and this finally being the event that ends the crush saga all together-

I personally felt like this was a very realistic possibility, since Donnie's crush on April is very surface level (He only "fell" for April because she was the first girl he witnessed upon leaving his home for the first time + he thought she was very pretty. He never makes any genuine attempts to get to know her as a person, and this feels very apparent given his behaviors and actions towards her. When he made his chart to "successfully get April to hang out with him" back in S1, everything that he listed had everything to do with himself and nothing to do with her or her interests. He didn't even try to guess or do any kind of process of elimination for her interests through his conversations / interactions with her. Also during S1, Donnie makes the bold assumption that April will like him simply because her Father is also a scientist- Which has absolutely nothing to do with April as an individual and there's no real correlation as to why she would "like him more" simply because he's similar to her Father / Father's profession? During this exact Season, when we see him gift her the music box that he made for her in, "A Foot Too Big" / S3 EP 2 /, April clearly looks uncomfortable for very obvious reasons but another thing that comes to mind is whether or not she even likes music boxes-?? There's no real explanation as to why he thought this would be a good gift for her- 💀). So to me, it makes sense that having his Rose colored glasses shattered / having a situation that practically forces Donnie to truly see her as an individual who's flawed and makes mistakes like this one would cause his crush on her to essentially evaporate instantly. Because what was his crush / infatuation founded on in the first place-? You know what I mean? I can also see his crush dissipating because of April and how she's handling this entire situation. I can see her handling it poorly in two different senses, the first being that she becomes very overly sensitive and defensive (Since Raph blowing up on her would be a massive hit to her pride, and as we've seen throughout the series, she's built up a pretty big ego just as much as the other characters have-) or she becomes very detached and blunt. Something that would cause her to become more openly honest with Donnie about how she views him and their relationship, that being that they just don't really have one- Finally being able to speak on how his advances make her feel and how they aren't necessarily wanted a majority of the time. :/

But now that I've established how I feel the other main characters should've responded towards April post the S2 finale / entering the S3 Farmhouse Arc (Minus Leo whose in a coma-), it's finally time to talk about how I feel April should have carried herself during this arc. Which would be BUILDING / REBUILDING HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS OF THIS TEAM (Minus Leo, but also technically him to just after he wakes up from his coma-). One of my biggest gripes with 2012 April in relation to the group as a whole is her lack of proper dynamic with most of her teammates. Casey is honestly the only exception to this, since we do see her get more significant bonding moments with Casey / she does get a lot of one on one screentime with him on particular- But even that could use some work too. April doesn't feel like an actual friend to any of them, and that's always been something that bothers me considering how highly they regard her as a person and how much they trust her / how much they put their faith in her. It would make sense to properly establish where that trust and praise even stems from, you know what I mean? But since the writers suck ass, you can essentially just chalk this up to her being the titular girl character and therefore she "deserves this treatment" canonically. I hate that reasoning and think it's really dumb. :) Lmao

I'm not saying the entire Farmhouse Arc needed to be so April centric (Since 2012 already feels like the Leonardo and April O'Neil show a majority of the time- 💀), but I don't think it could have hurt to have a majority of those episodes have significant moments between April and a particular Brother / Casey. With Mikey and April, I think it would have been really great for April to validate his feelings and reinforce the fact that it's okay for him to be upset with people. That doesn't mean that he has to hate them forever or hold grudges like a lot of people in his life do (I can also imagine that's the biggest reason why he's so uncomfortable with the possibility that he's holding a grudge against April, since his entire life revolves around this stupid grudge between his Father and his Uncle- Because Shredder basically is their uncle and I hate that that isn't acknowledged more?? That's like top tier family drama angst right there- Lmao). But it's also not healthy for him to essentially pretend as though he doesn't feel emotions like anger and frustration and disappointment. I think it would have been really cool for April to validate his thoughts and opinions, with this being used to build a better relationship between them and result in Mikey learning to trust April once again (Not that he necessarily lost his trust in her but it felt complicated for a while-). We can also get more screentime of April loosening up and doing fun / silly things, since I'm sure Mikey would bring out that side of her ! I also think Mikey should have been the one to help her with her psychic abilities instead of Donnie, I don't know if that's a hot take but- LMAO

Like I said earlier, I don't think April didn't have a relationship with Casey but I think this situation would help strengthen it for sure. To be honest though, I don't see April necessarily needing to make a lot of amends with Casey (Aside from his Father and younger Sister getting abducted as well, and maybe this could be a good way for Casey to be able to actually talk about his family with someone onscreen-). But I do like the idea of April going to Casey a lot during the situation for advice- To have an outside looking in perspective, you know what I mean? Especially with Raph and how to fix that mess,, But this would be a great way to show how much April values Casey as a friend and respects his opinion / appreciates the fact that he's always been a shoulder for her to cry on or vent to. I also want Casey to reinforce this idea that she doesn't need to be this "perfect person". This whole character development period for her should be about that in general, but I feel like Casey / her interactions with Casey should highlight this theme the most. I think April should be able to express how difficult it's been to come to terms with the fact that she's not where she wants to be or who she thought she was, with Casey throwing out the idea that maybe that was never who she was meant to be. That it's never too late to reinvent yourself or be a different person, one that you better reflects who you are. I basically just want Casey to reinforce her individualism the most !

I'm biased, so I prefer the situation dissipating Donnie's crush on April, and for that to build a new foundation for a relationship. A platonic relationship. Donnie never truly interacted with April as a friend, always interacting with her as his crush or infatuation, you know what I mean? He read into every interaction they had, everything he did felt as though it had some romantic strings attached or implications. He needs to let that go, for sure. I think they could have had a really cool dynamic if this had happened. The writers also could have better explored April's intelligent side, the one that they constantly like to associate with her character but I feel doesn't always hold up (Not only because a lot of her "character traits" feel reliant on the plot of an episode, making them incredibly inconsistent, but I've always compared April's intelligence level to Leo's rather than Donnie's. You know what I mean?). If April actually has an interest in S.T.E.M. the way the writers like to imply that she does, then this would have been a really good thing for her too ! I honestly don't have much to say aside from this though, because I don't necessarily see a lot of friendship scenarios for April and Donnie-? I know that's kind of sad, but I've personally never envisioned them being super close-? 😭

Raph is my favorite aspect of this entire hypothetical concept though. Not only does it include the satisfaction (For me, yes-) of a character rightfully telling April off for once and April actually having to face the repercussions of something that she's done for an indefinite amount of time, but this also simultaneously feeds into my take that April and Raph should have been a lot closer than they actually were- To talk about this a little better, I'm including some old WIPs of a comic I made exploring this idea (I guess technically I'm still making it-? I haven't worked on it in a while,, 😔) !

I'll do my best to not infodump about the entire story that I envisioned for this comic (Cause it's a lot and this post is already lengthy enough- Lmao), but to provide some context for these specific panels: After Raph explodes on April after finding out what actually transpired during the S2 finale / takes the time to throw in the fact that she's pretty incompetent a majority of the time and it's upsetting the constantly have to clean up after her, April (somewhat understandably) gets in her feelings and it's pretty upset about the situation overall. She ends up running into a conflict with some people by herself in the woods while taking a walk to get some fresh air (It was over a missing mutagen canister and I kind of envisioned these people being similar to "The Finger" from the Bigfoot episode- Like, just weirdos- Lmao), and as you can tell from the comic she pretty much gets her ass handed to her. This is when Raph's words really started to set in for her and she felt honestly disappointed with herself. But instead of kicking her while she's down or fanning the flames, Raph opens up to her instead-

With that little bit of context out of the way, I really love this idea that seeing April like this would result in Raph wanting to open up to her. Why? Because he sees himself in her. Especially right now. Seeing her so frustrated with herself, April wanting to do more than she's physically capable of doing as she is now, feeling weak and helpless ,, He's been there. Many many times. So he starts to empathize with her and his anger simmers a bit.

He opens up about his role in this team, and how a majority of the time he only feels good for punching and hitting people. Like that's all he's capable of. He talks about how he feels so insignificant when the solution isn't hitting people, or even if there is someone to hit that doesn't change anything or resolve the issue. He's not smart like Donnie, he's not warm and compassionate like Mikey, he's not a symbol for people to follow like Leo. In these ways, he understands wanting to do more and being so angry when facing the reality that you can't. Or rather, as you are right now, you can't.

This is more of a personal headcanon for me, but I'd imagine that it took rough a lot of effort and dedication to get the build that he currently has / maintains. I wouldn't be surprised if it took him quite some time to build up that body mass, you know what I mean? So I was also going to reference that at some point in relation to Raph talking about not being where you want to be yet- How for years, he felt so weak compared to Splinter and that upset him,, But it also motivated him to be the person that he currently is + why he takes training more seriously than everybody else. Because he was tired of feeling weak.

This basically segways into Raph helping April with her training during the Farmhouse Arc and this being the most significant way in which they build their new relationship with each other ! He's a little impressed with April's dedication to improving too, which also helps him view April differently / give them something in common. When they return to New York City, I'm sure April would want to feel confident in herself and capable of fixing this mess- Raph getting her there feels like a no brainer to me. I'd also include moments where they're not training and just hanging out regularly during their stay at the Farmhouse ! Something that admittedly would've taken some convincing on April's part, since even though I said Raph's anger simmered, that doesn't mean that it completely vanished right away. But eventually he'd agree to it and slowly let April in again. Maybe not even again though, since they didn't really have a relationship prior to this in my eyes (Nor do they interact a lot canonically as it is-). So this would honestly feel like Raph letting April in for the very first time-! 😭

Also, of course I'm going to be throwing in some hints of 2012 Raphril here and there within this comic- This is me we're talking about- LMAO 💛❤️

I also totally address Donnie's behaviors towards April / his (Most likely unintentional?) misogynistic tendencies. How his coddling of her harms her rather than helps her. His lack of respect for her choices and her autonomy (Specifically referencing, "Within the Woods" where he blatantly acknowledges that April is interested in Casey but instead of respecting that, he feels the need to "prove to her" that she's wrong-?? For not choosing him, basically- 💀). His unhealthy possessives over her as a person. Etc. ! 😔👍

Sorry this was another lengthy yap post-! Basically I agree that April should've had more focus in relation to the S2 finale aftermath like that person was talking about, but I also think the Farmhouse Arc should've better established April's relationships within the group- Idk- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Lmao

[dredgen-dumbass]

(Disabled) player's guide to making D2 more accessible

because so far (correct me if I'm wrong) I haven't seen one on here, & maybe (hopefully) it'll help someone.

Alright, to get it out of the way, I'm disabled. I have neurological damage from a tbi, and more recently another concussion, and among many many other things it makes gaming a lot more complicated. It can (unfortunately) be difficult to find advice for disabled gamers online that isn't just "get good" or "then gaming isn't for you", so I figure this might be helpful, since it was for me.

I can't speak to other conditions, so this is more about adjustments for specific symptoms, but I can only really speak from experience. That said, I've had to learn quite a bit, so it's sharing time :)

(I play on Xbox. Some settings aren't the same between platforms, just a warning. For that reason, some of this post is going to be xbox-specific.)

This is divided up into menus & subjects of bullet points are bolded to be easier to skim.

Controller settings - (and explanations for some of them in case y'all don't know)

Test out different look sensitivity. The default is 3, I moved mine up to 5. I have issues with spacial awareness and saccades dysfunction, and this has made it easier for me to keep whatever I'm looking at on-screen.

ADS sensitivity- if you don't know, this is the speed when you aim down sights. The default is 1, I have mine reduced to .5, and I've found that the larger difference between the look & ADS sensitivity can really function as having two look settings available when using a weapon that doesn't have a very extreme scope.

The default sprint-turn scale is 0.4, I bump mine up to 0.8 for similar reasons to the look sensitivity increase. (Turning this up makes you turn faster, turning it down makes you turn slower.)

Alternatively, if you have more issues with overstimulation/visual clutter/quick movements/etc, you may want to turn everything down a bit to slow down your camera, but that may make combat harder to keep up with, especially pvp.

Axial & radial deadzone. This helps with stick drift. Stick drift is a pain for everyone but if you have fine motor issues, tremors, arthritis, etc, it's even worse. Finding what works best for your hardware will help make sure you're compensating less, which puts less strain on your hands.

I've seen people recommend turning off controller haptics for the same reason- the vibrations make you grip the controller harder and can cause worse strain. Personally, I leave them on because the sensory input helps balance out the awareness issues, but maybe it's for you! (this one's a system setting, not a d2 one.)

Video settings

Brightness can be important if you have issues with eye strain. I would recommend changing this relative to the lighting in the room, not just your monitor. Turning it up may help with visual issues with the tradeoff of risking overstimulation. Again, all of this is very dependent on the person.

Motion blur- Evil, evil, evil, turn this off. Visual problems or not, it's harder to follow things on-screen with it enabled. Combined with any garden variety problem with eye movements or cognitive strain it's even worse.

Chromatic aberration- I turn this off. It's a nice vfx, but it can wind up just being added visual stimulus and if that's a problem for it's worth losing. It can also make the radar harder to read. Not worth it (personally.)

Film grain- off for the same reason. It's a smaller change, but a clearer view is worth it if it helps you.

Sound settings

If you have problems with your hearing/auditory processing, I highly recommend turning the sfx & music drastically down compared to the dialogue, and then just turning up your system audio.

Personally, I often play with music entirely off, but I know that can be a very boring experience to a lot of people, so take that as you will.

(my current settings: sfx 8, dialogue 10, music 1)

if you're playing with an Xbox party or in a discord call, etc, I really recommend messing with the mixing settings there when you first get on to balance out peoples mics, regardless of processing problems.

Gameplay settings

HUD opacity- I turn mine down to high, the default being full. Just another thing that makes it easier to keep track of stuff.

Radar Background Opacity- Opposite here. If you have problems with spatial awareness you're probably relying pretty hard on the radar instinctively, so the clearer it is, the better. I play with mine on medium, you may want to play around.

Subtitles- Are on by default, so that's nice. Let's check out their settings menu for a moment.

Turning on show speaker name can be really good for hearing/auditory processing issues.

You can also change the color for the speaker name/caption text if the clearer contrast will help you.

The best background style for visibility is box, but it won't look as nice. Another trade.

Background opacity may be easier to lower if you switch to box, since the faded style isn't even. A lower background opacity may help you follow things on-screen at the cost of caption readability

If you don't need captions but do need to reduce visual clutter, try turning them off!

Colorblind mode is, obviously, helpful if you're colorblind, but I have also heard it recommended because the color changes can help improve contrast. Not one I've tried, but worth including.

Full auto firing/Full auto melee- Does what it says. Turning this on might help in the same way as turning off haptics/messing with deadzones, ie by changing how much you need to click. You can still fire normally with it on, so if anything it just gives you another option.

Reticle location is slightly below the center on d2. I prefer to center it, though it takes some getting used to. More helpful if you frequently switch between other games that center theirs.

Neutral/targeted reticle color- The defaults are white and red respectively. I prefer black for targeted because I feel like it makes it easier to see what I'm actually aiming at, but you may want to leave it for contrast. To each their own.

Other

Brief overview of Xbox accessibility settings

Xbox has a narration setting. I would assume anyone who needs it is aware of this, but just in case.

If you need more assisted play, there's controller assist where you can combine two people's input

Turning off haptic vibration (as mentioned) is in accessibility -> controller

You can make the on-screen keyboard larger!

There are party chat settings for both text to speech and speech to text

There's also game transcription!

Games that have the function can also do their own read-aloud. I don't know if/how this applies to destiny

Mono output for audio may make things easier to understand depending on your audio setup

There's also high-contrast mode for both dark or light

Colorblind filters are here, too

Night mode! You can change how much it dims/filters your device. If you have problems with blue light or eye strain, or have to limit screens for medical reasons like me, this setting is a lifesaver. The filter will affect how your games look, but personally it's worth the tint. Same is available on most PCs.

Hardware, etc.

The Xbox Adaptive Controller is highly customizable and great for anyone with physical impairments that make the standard Xbox controller difficult to use. Find it here.

I've seen thumbstick extenders recommended for arthritis, might also be helpful for similar conditions

If you have arthritis/fine motor issues/muscle weakness/tremors/etc/etc/etc controller grips might make holding a standard controller easier

If any of those are the case for you, then you might also benefit from a lightweight controller (or playing with a standard controller plugged in & removing the batteries for a lesser weight adjustment)

evilcontrollers also has one-handed controllers and a one-handed controller customizer much like the standard controller customizers

evilcontrollers for hardware accessibility in general

If you play on PC and have muscle or joint issues then you may want to look into different keyboard/mouse shapes. Lightweight, vertical, and ball mice are all options, though there's apparently some argument about using them for gaming. I've also seen good reviews of the Azeron keypad from people with muscular/joint problems. There's also split keyboards, wave keyboards, one-handed, etc etc etc.

If you have problems with auditory processing I would HIGHLY recommend gaming with noise-cancelling headphones. (Hell, do everything with noise cancelling headphones.) I would recommend these for everyday, but they also work pretty well for gaming. The mic is mid, but it works well enough, and there's multiple sound modes + active noise cancelling.

Other other (oh no I forgot these, editing now)

Compression gloves !!!!!

Pause and do hand exercises after a while

20/20/20 rule for eye strain

may come back and expand this as I think of more things

There is a lot that Bungie could do to improve the game's accessibility without causing an imbalance with abled players, but I'll save that for another post. Feel free to reblog this with any other advice/anecdotal stuff/whatever, I'm considering this as opening a discussion.

I don't know of any clans specifically for disabled players but I'm sure they exist? If anyone has recommendations for community stuff, please do throw that in.

As always, my dms are open. Being a disabled gamer can suck sometimes and if you need a space to vent w/ someone who gets it, I'm your guy. If you're just curious how it impacts gaming, I don't mind being asked, I just don't feel like posting about myself that much unprompted.

I think that's all for now. Happy gaming :)

[maxdibert]

Random hcs you have for Sirius?

Ah, Sirius Black, the walking contradiction. Yes, I have a few thoughts about him, even though I make fun of him a lot, deep down I appreciate him. This is going to be long, but that way I can compile it all in one post.

Walburga is a Scorpio like him, which is why they clashed so much. Scorpio is one of the most intense signs of the zodiac, and both Scorpio men and women are ruthless, but Scorpio women are the alphas of the zodiac and always dominate Scorpio men.

I like this idea because I think that deep down, the reason he and his mother got along so poorly is precisely because they had terribly similar personalities, the kind that don’t let anyone control them. Sirius wasn’t going to be tamed, and Walburga wasn’t going to let her authority be questioned, so they constantly clashed.

Sirius didn’t start having problems with his mother because of any blood purity ideals or that nonsense. Sirius is much deeper than that. He started having issues with Walburga because she was very dominant and imposing, and he had a naturally rebellious character that wouldn’t accept orders from anyone. As a child, he would do the opposite of whatever his mother told him, just to annoy her.

His idea of going to Gryffindor didn’t come about until he met James on the train. I mean, he knew he wanted to annoy Walburga, and thought that becoming best friends with a “blood traitor” would be a good way to do it. Plus, James was like him: rich and from a good family, so they would get along. If he ended up in Gryffindor, even better, because that would make his mother lose a lot of hair.

His rejection of his family’s ideals wasn’t ideological at first, but stemmed from the need to rebel against his mother. Over time, he rationalized those ideas and turned against them, but he never delved deeper into this aspect. That’s why, even though he said blood purity was wrong and that the Blacks were rubbish, he still had attitudes very similar to those of his relatives, just on “the other side.”

As children, he and Regulus had a fairly close relationship typical of older and younger brothers, where the older one always annoys the younger one, and the younger one tells them to piss off. But Regulus never forgave him for taking his rebellion to such an extreme and always thought he’d gone too far with the whole hanging out with Potter and going to Gryffindor thing.

He didn’t have major issues with his brother until he realized Regulus was getting close to Death Eater circles and was considering joining their ranks. They had a terrible argument about this, where Regulus accused him of spending years ignoring everything and everyone because he was too busy acting like an idiot with “his dear Potter,” and now he wasn’t in a position to lecture him on morality, basically telling him to fuck off. Sirius would never admit that this hurt him deeply; he just told Regulus to fuck off too, and they never spoke again.

Orion Black didn’t have much of a role in that house. He just watched what happened without saying anything because he was afraid of his wife, and Sirius always resented his father’s attitude, considering him a useless puppet.

His biggest goal in life was to annoy his mother, which is why he covered his room with everything that could drive Walburga crazy, while Walburga would give him all sorts of orders and punishments to make him do things he hated, just to annoy him. It was basically a competition between them to see who had more power.

People often speculate that he was abused and other nonsense, which is why he left home, but I think he made the decision for something much simpler: maybe they tried to betroth him to some pure-blood woman, maybe it was at a family gathering when they announced that Regulus was going to start joining Bellatrix’s circle to join “the cause,” or maybe it was a way to punish his mother after a big argument. Either way, I don’t think he intended to leave forever, but once he went to the Potters’ house and discovered what a functional family was like—rich, where he wouldn’t lose any comfort or privilege—he stayed.

Walburga spent years sending him threatening letters to come back, and he spent years secretly responding, telling her to fuck off. Eventually, when he finished Hogwarts, the letters stopped arriving.

He always said his brother died because he was an idiot and got involved where he shouldn’t, and repeated that he was stupid and had it coming. But when he found out about his death, he basically had one of the biggest drinking binges of his life, and obviously told everyone at the pub, while drunk, that his brother was an idiot and deserved to be dead, while crying uncontrollably, because that’s how Sirius Black confronts his cognitive dissonance.

He never told James that he’d done that.

Speaking of James, Sirius had a terrible dependence on him, very similar to Severus’ dependence on Lily. James was Sirius’ moral compass, and he looked up to him as an example of how he should be because, to Sirius, James was everything a pure-blood wizard should be.

He also had a crush on James that he wasn’t even aware of because he told himself it was just a brotherly attachment. In reality, he was totally obsessed with James, to the point that he got angry when James finally started dating Lily, claiming that “he’d become less fun,” which was basically a way of saying he was really resentful because they no longer spent all their time together, but Sirius was too in denial to admit it was jealousy.

He probably couldn’t stand Lily at first, but since Sirius is a loyal dog, he ended up being the third wheel in their relationship and came to care about her a lot because he wanted everything James appreciated by association.

Contrary to popular belief, Sirius didn’t give a shit about Remus or Peter. He only hung out with them because James did, but if he could use them or manipulate them for any of his Machiavellian plans, he wouldn’t hesitate. He didn’t truly start appreciating Remus until he got out of Azkaban, and even then, he did it in a very utilitarian way, basically because he felt lonely and James was dead.

Sirius had a very classist background. He knew the theory of equality, but didn’t apply it. He never questioned his privileges and never deconstructed the elitist and sadistic mentality his family had taught him since childhood, which is why he treated Severus like garbage or was pretty inconsistent between what he said and what he actually did.

Sirius did project onto James in Harry, just like Severus did, but while Severus projected hate, Sirius projected affection. However, he was also a dysfunctional adult who couldn’t see the kid as an independent person in himself, and anyone who denies this doesn’t understand how trauma works, sorry folks.

Sirius was bisexual, though he probably didn’t even realize it, because he never wanted to admit he had a massive crush on James.

The one who got on his nerves the most was his cousin Bellatrix, who ironically, was the one who resembled him the most in terms of personality.

He said he hated Snape because he was disgusting, liked the Dark Arts, and sucked up to people like his family, which seemed inconceivable to him. But the truth is, he subconsciously hated him because an aristocrat like Sirius Black, who reveled in abandoning that world for the “good,” couldn’t stand to see a working-class guy daring to climb socially to the sphere he had rejected. His internalized classism made such a thing inconceivable, so he projected all his frustrations onto Snape.

James was the one who started the bullying, but Sirius was the most sadistic and violent of the two. Sometimes James had to remind Sirius that there were certain limits he couldn’t cross because no one had taught Sirius limits; in his family, sadism was encouraged.

One of the reasons he was so disturbed by being locked in his childhood house with his mother’s paintings yelling at him all the time was because he had to face the reality that she saw him (even though it wasn’t really her) as a failure. He had to come to terms with the fact that, at 36, he was only a shadow of what he once was, and his mother, the one he’d always confronted and bragged about being better and doing better without, now saw him as a wreck. That was too much for him.

Sirius Black was a smoker and died a smoker.

He had problems with alcohol in his later days.

He kept telling himself to blindly trust Dumbledore and convinced himself it was the right path, but deep down, he’d been questioning a lot of things about the old man for a while, though he never said anything out loud.

Had he been a father, he’d say he’d prefer to have a boy, but deep down, he would have been the typical “girls’ dad” at heart.

Had he ever settled down, he never would have done it with a Muggle or a Muggle-born, he would have done it with a pure-blood witch from a rich family with a personality strangely similar to his mother’s. But he would have never admitted that, not in a million years.

If he’d gone to therapy, every single session, without exception, would have revolved around Walburga.

[residentphoenix]

Dreaming is shifting

Disclaimer: It’s totally alright if we disagree! I’m absolutely not an authority. I’d love to hear feedback if you have any.

I’ve seen multiple people get caught up in asking themselves if they shifted, had a vivid dream, or if they astral projected. I understand why we distinguish between these things, but to me, they’re all just experiences.

At times, I feel like we end up limiting ourselves by specifying that we’re shifting to other realities. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the belief in other realities. The issue is, we can be so rigid, exclusionary, and inconsistent with what we define as a reality.

If there’s infinite realities, there’s infinite realities. If we shift every moment, we shift every moment. There’s realities that don’t make sense, ones that follow dream logic. Do you magically stop shifting at every moment once you enter the astral realm or while you’re asleep? No.

I believe we’re all consciousness experiencing things, and nothing is technically more “real” than anything else. When we shift, we’re just changing what we’re aware of. We do this a lot (every moment, if you hadn’t heard!) but it’s very obvious that we do this when we dream, yet we tend to brush this off for some strange reason.

Do you ever remember we’re on a floating rock in the middle of space? The moon exists, the stars. You get so used to these facts, but sometimes, it hits you. I think we need to remember this about dreaming too after becoming so used to it. We’re literally moving our awareness somewhere entirely different when we dream.

You can shift to a reality that feels and acts exactly like a dream. What would be the difference besides what you call it? You already know this, but I sincerely hope you feel it true now: Congrats, shifter! You’ve already done the thing.

I think a big issue a lot of us have is, we just don’t give ourselves enough credit. We don’t trust ourselves enough.

You might say, “Well, Phoenix, my dreams don’t feel vividly real, though! Doesn’t that make them less real?”

You’ve just shifted to realities that don’t feel vivid, friend. That’s a feature of them. There’s infinite realities. Some are in all black and white, time moves weirdly, or smell doesn’t exist as a sense whatsoever. Does that make them less real? No. So what makes these ones less real?

“Okay, but, Phoenix, I still haven’t shifted to the reality I want to go to. What if I can’t?”

You can.

We’ve talked about how dreams are other realities, but since we’re shifting at every moment, things can kind of blend together, and they aren’t as separate as they seem. You can technically do anything in a dream, which further leads me to believe that we don’t need to be in the void or whatnot to manifest things instantly—I think we just want that to be the case, so it is.

I think what we’re currently experiencing seemingly losing all predictability and stability would terrify most of us too much, and this is a big reason why we tend to manifest things slowly. Things take time, they come naturally, you question whether or not they were all just coincidences.

We’re experiencing being human, and it’s understandable when we struggle, that we put limitations on ourselves because we want to feel safe.

We can do anything in dreams, yet it’s understandable when we have nightmares, when we don’t realize that we are dreaming, or when we forget our own power.

You can decide you’re ready, or that it doesn’t matter how ready you are, but you can also assume that you’re on your way, that you’re more ready than you believe, and everything is now leading you to it.

You don’t have to, but it truly is okay to take your time! Time doesn’t exist anyway, so even if it seems like it’s taken you a while, that is not proof that you’re incapable or that it won’t happen.

It will.

2nd Disclaimer: I’m probably never making another post like this again, but it was fun!

Thanks so much for reading!<3

[castlekriegler]

Hello everybody! :D

Master Eckhardt, I have a confession! xD For the past two weeks I've been trying to get used to the remastered Kurtis. His new looks has been bothering me. Yes, me, one of the most obsessed people with Lartis and AOD. :( :( :( It makes me feel sad and confused. I was not sure if to write anything because I didn't want to be spoiling the ongoing party! Plus I didn't want to criticize in public too much because that would feel like back-stabbing all the people involved…

Luckily yesterday I realized that with some minor adjustments and rather small changes made here and there, he could be close to perfection and way closer to the original. ;D

Just to make myself clear: I have NEVER meant to bother or attack the creators and/or fans of the remastered version of Kurtis. I'm happy that many people love the new Kurtis' face. And I'm glad, grateful, excited and enthusiastic that TRAOD has got another chance to shine. (Even though we all know that there have been some quality and other issues mostly caused by the lack of time - which is unforgivable! by the people who caused it - AOD has always deserved more and seems to be cursed by the time restrains…)

Anyway I wasn't sure what exactly was bothering me about the new face in Kurtis' case, but something was definitely off to me. I couldn't put my finger on where the problem was, but yesterday I figured it out. At least I think. ;) I made these rough edits last week and et voilà - Welcome back, Kurtis Trent! :D (Sorry for the bad quality. I had only a very simple rectangular selection tool at hand, but you get the picture - I'm planning to make 'clean' versions as well when I have more time.)

(The pictures on the right are the edited ones.)

(The original picture posted by @angel-in-shadow: https://angel-in-shadow.tumblr.com/post/776308000718716928/soooooo-i-might-have-some-remastered-kuris-mesh)

The jaw and chin

The bony face shape from some angles (not visible here) makes him look much younger and even a little bit starving. xD But more importantly, PLS, get rid of the protruding (hag's xD) chin. It doesn't suit him IMHO. It changes a face a lot; it's completely different type of chin. I have a problem with the fact that the original face didn't have even a tiny hint of that face trait. Also his upper lip is does not stick out anymore and the lips are not so uneven now.

(The original picture posted by @minis-gaming: https://minis-gaming.tumblr.com/post/776146302680596480/the-demon-hunter)

The hair and his lips

I'd personally prefer his hair a little bit darker (not visible in the dark pictures in general) and the front hair shorter. I would also add more hair to the front - like overgrown bangs of a sort - more of it getting into his eyes (and covering his forehead more). I also flattened his hair on the top of his head. It looked almost like backcombed xD. Also the strand of hair thrown into the back the remastered Kurtis has - I have no idea how it could stay in place like that. xD The fringe-like haircut seems to be more practical and 'free' and without a need of adjusting it every minute. xD

The shape of his upper lip looks really weird in some angles. I made the upper lip narrower in the second pic. That was it. But to me the difference is HUGE. (The model seems to be okay though, so I guess it's more like a matter of textures or something… Sorry, I'm not very familiar with the 3D terminology.)

(Again the right picture is the edited one - I only made the original on the left lighter.)

I can recognize him now. I wonder if anyone agrees with me?

Of course, the original graphics (lacking in some ways for today standards) was leaving more space for imagination, so I admit we all could see the characters a little bit differently. ;)

Do I like the new remastered face? Yes - with some reservations. All in all, he has always been more than just a pretty face. ;) His appearance is important to me of course, but I especially LOVE his character. On the other hand, like seriously, look at the difference the edited pics make… *drolls* :D AWWW!!!!!! *crazyfangirling* I NEED THESE CHANGES! :P :D :D :D

Many people won't probably agree with me on several points in this post (PLEASE LET ME STILL JOIN THE PARTY!), but I'm just sharing some of my thoughts here. And wondering about your opinions. ;) And I'm also writing this to let the fans of the original model of Kurtis know that they are not alone. ;) :P Either way, the original is still here, so we all can be happy. A WIN-WIN situation, isn't it? ;D

PHEW! I have SO needed to get these thoughts out! You have no idea… I guess I'm too much into the issue; well, it's been a while since my obsession with AOD started, so please have patience and bear with me. xD We have spent a really long time with the original game… ;)

[kalinara]

To be fair to Logan and his fans, I think this is where the popularity of the character works against him. Not because the fans, or even the writers necessarily, are resistant to change so much as his over-saturation makes change really hard to execute.

Don't get me wrong, I wish I got half the content Wolverine fans get for MY favorite. But I think there's a downside too.

He and Scott kind of are on opposite sides of the spectrum, I think. Scott gets to be an unusually reactive character, because he's generally only in one book at a time. There might be a guest appearance or crossover here or there. Maybe a big event. MAYBE, he'll get to appear in a second book in a very specific role (like how he appeared often in Krakoa-era Cable comics, specifically as "Nate's dad".), but generally, every thing major that happens to the guy is in one book at a time.

So the writers can take a certain amount of liberty. As long as the character's reaction makes sense given the context, and the trajectory is logical, they can go the route of X-Factor's near-breakdown, or Utopia's grey general, or the post AvX martyr revolutionary, and it works.

(I remember reading that Mark Waid actually had to push hard for permission to use Scott in Champions. I'm very glad he did because that gave us a brand new avenue of characterization for the character - we've really never seen ANY version of Scott in that role: not the leader, broader universe focus, dealing with issues that aren't mutant related at all. But it definitely sounded like anyone who wasn't Mark Waid would have been told 'no'.)

On the other hand, Logan is everywhere. And in some ways, that's a good thing. I celebrate Champions for giving us a brand new context for Scott and letting him interact with characters and sides of the Marvel Universe he never would ordinarily. And Logan gets that ALL THE TIME.

But, when you're dealing with at least one X-Team book (and often more than that, like the time he was running X-Force too), one solo book, often an Avengers book of some time, appearances in more global types of crossovers because of said appearances in Avengers, limited miniseries featuring less common team ups - or Deadpool again, and so on and so forth, that creates other challenges.

Even if one book decides to give Logan a truly character changing experience - there's no guarantee that it will be reflected in any other book. It might not even be feasible if we consider how delays and publication difficulties might affect when the books come out. And what if another book gives him a truly character changing experience in another direction?

How far apart can these character variations go and still be the same character, in the same general continuity. (Obviously things like Ultimate Wolverine or whichever AU is happening right now are different entirely.) He's basically stuck in the most recognizable, iconic version, so he can be slotted anywhere and casual fans of the Avengers won't be utterly boggled as to why Logan's suddenly embraced pacifism or whatever.

The poor guy is pretty much doomed to hypocrisy: he can hate sending kids into battle, until he's on a different team with teenagers, or until he's mentoring another kid who ends up in battle. And he's doomed to be a neglectful father/father figure, since anyone and their mother like to add new people to his backstory. And so on.

I suppose you're right about Logan and the kids. Hell, they might have HAD to kill him, if you think about it, since that would be the one situation that would genuinely and realistically spark a pronounced change in behavior that they wouldn't be able to execute going forward.

I'd still like to see Jean madder at him though. I have a list of things I wish Marvel had let Jean get mad about. :-D

Cyclops mourns Logan

Pretty sure he's dated more psychics than that

They really called it Cyclops in YOU. Hell yeah. Anyway, Logan is dead. Scott, unaware that he's in a comic book, is treating this event as if it's forever. Lucky for us, because their messed up relationship is like crack for me. He considers how Logan was his most complicated relationship, and that's a lot coming from him.

There's definitely resentment there, because Logan was and is a selfish jerk. It's refreshing honesty, and very Scott Summers. He's remembering all the different ways in which Logan made his life harder, acted like a creep, or spited him needlessly, yet Logan's death is keeping Scott up at night.

I love this flashback to after the Dark Phoenix Saga (I think) and it makes pretty clear that Logan transferred his idealisation from Jean to Scott. Scott is standing at his wife's grave and somehow Logan manages to make literally everything about him. At least he acknowledges his grief and says 'sorry for your loss.' Wait, no that doesn't happen actually. The bastard just tells him he's not allowed to quit because of his psychosexual obsession. I wonder what Scott is thinking as he walks off. An optic blast in the back would be somewhat justified (and funny) but Scott usually has better self control than that.

He considers the aftermath of Fatal Attractions, when Magneto performed field surgery on his bones. Logan definitely wasn't used to not being immortal and the apex murderer. His recovery was long and his whining intense.

Is Scott biting Magneto there?

Scott approaches Logan as he's punishing himself in the Danger Room and echoes his words back to him, offering him a hand up. He remembers the heartwarming threats and the good times shared together fighting for their lives. Brothers in grief and violence, rivals who are simultaneously paternal figures to each other.

Scott is very prone to blaming himself for things going wrong, and Logan was always there to remind him. I don't think he's being fair on himself but he never really is. Blaming Scott for things is an X-Men sport. He repeats Logan's insane words for a third time - 'we don't get to quit.' Scott cries in the snow on all fours outside the base where Logan was repeatedly tortured and dehumanised, but he doesn't quit.

Scott imagines what Logan's funeral would be like, and he's not far off. He thinks hard about an appropriate way to honour his memory. The answer is obvious - alcohol and violence. I have no doubt Scott knows exactly where every mutant hater watering hole is, but it's funnier to imagine him wandering around until he finds one.

Proving he knows him pretty damn well, Scott sends Logan off by beating the shit out of some bigots and drinking over their unconscious bodies. 'Here's to you, bub. See you in a year or so.' Cyclops is pretty famous at this point, so these dudes probably know exactly who he is. They'll be telling that story for a while, of the time they were drinking and hating on mutants then Scott Summers came out of nowhere to fuck them up. Logan wouldn't be proud exactly, but he'd probably grunt and call him bub. That's practically 'I love you' from Logan, and Scott loves his dumb ass too.

[copia]

not to get dramatic but one of copia’s dissociative translations in his troubled head was seeing sister imperator’s saucer of pills as a mug of tea and biscuits. he’s clearly an unreliable narrator who sees things we can’t trust to be true; going off of this, can we trust that the mug of tea he was handed before the encore was actually that? who’s got time to down a whole mug of hot tea when you’ve still got three songs to perform? isn’t it a strange beverage to give him out of all the other options? don't get me wrong i'm absolutely not being serious here (also not insinuating that copia is ill like seestor, i'm going down the psychological route) but what i'm saying is he could have been handed medication he didn't want to acknowledge

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Broke (2016): BBC Sherlock is a phenomenal piece of media and anything that seems like a flaw just hasn't been fully explored yet

Woke (2020): BBC Sherlock is an incredibly flawed series run by an egotistical writer, it never deserved the hype and is actively bad on so many fronts (especially representation)

Bespoke (2024): BBC Sherlock is flawed and bogged down by increasingly poor writing, which many fans refused to see while it was airing, leading to hugely misplaced expectations (particularly for the final series), AND it has the seeds of some compelling characterizations and portrayals, some genuinely solid performances, and touches--albeit imperfectly--on complexities that are still being discussed today (particularly as it relates to the relationship between Sherlock and John). The huge cultural impact of the show has created a massive pendulum effect in its public perception, leading to most people today remembering a caricature of the show (whether positive or negative) rather than appreciating its nuanced merits and failings...that being said Season 4 sucked

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

i knew it would happen but oh my god. oh my. fucking god. i couldn't imagine it would be so bad when requesting. i was thinking about the lola propaganda and emo boy lovers and the gross freak haters. i couldn't possibly imagine that he would get such a GIANT pass percentage. yes there's six more hours to go but i know it's going to get worse over the night. As the blog curator is he really now the most passed on character I'm curious

Currently Masterson is still at a higher percentage than Beast Machines Rattrap, who I believe is our current Least Fuckable character. Masterson clears the bar by a whole percent.

And with your help we can set the bar even lower. It's not too late to Get His Ass

I don't know beachcomber too well but any humanfucker bots are welcome here.

Admittedly I was thinking at least a little bit about the rescue bots when I wrote the post because I swear to Primus every one of the main cast of bots is trying to fuck humans. Not even necessarily their human partners specifically (boulder and heatwave absolutely are tho), but at some point, every one of the bots has Said or Done Some Shit in the show that reads like they're interested in getting with humans. Prowl "I've fantasized about being human before" TFA walked so the rescue bots could sprint.

(I've also just kinda had Boulder/Graham Brainrot lately, so that might be contributing lmao)