#me and morb

[lorstandian]

is nothing sacred

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So I've seen a lot of 'Hop actively dislikes and distrusts Steve', 'Hop tolerates Steve because he's useful during UD shenanigans but doesn't like him', and the big swing to 'Hop has adopted Steve as his own and treats him the same/almost the same as he does El'

BUT, I present:

Hop pseudo adopts Steve because when he and Owens were trying to get the Harringtons to make any decisions about their teenager who saw some sketchy shit and may need government testing they legally gave Hop the rights to act in loco parentis and he takes that seriously because he doesn't want another Will Byers and he's pretty sure the Harrington kid has a concussion.

Hop who stays involved just enough in Steve's life season 1-3 that we the audience see Steve is getting attached. But Hop just sees an annoying kid who won't leave him alone when he's trying to deal with a rebellious psychic and her insane little friends and keeps asking stupid questions about highschool romance and teenage rivalry drama. Knows Joyce Byers doesn't like the kid but won't give a lot of reason why but he's mostly learned to trust that woman's judgement about people. Still gets him the job at Scoops when the kid's dad makes a stink about college and tells him if he survives a few months there he'll consider bringing him on the force, makes sense to keep him close and in a position to help should shit hit the fan again.

Hop who doesn't get it when Steve is one of the most relieved when he 'comes back to life' after Joyce and Murray bring him back from Russia. When Steve introduces him as "My Hop," (something he'd taken to calling him just before season 2 shenanigans) to his sarcastic, fidgety little friend like it means something. The girl, Robin, looks between the two of them and gets this sad look on her face for a second before smiling and shaking his hand and saying something about "Dingus has told me all about you".

Hop who complains to Murray one of the times The Party and assorted teens and adults are over at his renovated and expanded cabin (courtesy of Owens and shady government organizations recognizing these people are worth investing in, heavily if omens are to be believed) when the bald annoyance asks about what's up on there. Complains about having annoying teenagers who have nothing better to do but pester him legally put under his supervision cause their parents can't be assed to care and are spoiled little shits who are slightly more bearable versions of said parents cause he can stand toe to toe with one of those monsters they faced and the kids kind of listen to him. Complains about barely being able to breathe cause of regular visits and check-ins like Hop was still responsible for him. Says at least the extra hands are useful around the cabin what with the still healing up and El pacing herself after the showdown with Creel and still trying to find Max and the Byers not quite moved back to Hawkins yet.

Hop who doesn't realize that Steve hears every word cause he had gone looking for the older man when he disappeared for more than a few minutes, when he couldn't see him to make sure he was here and safe and alive. Steve who thought Hop actually had come to care for him in his own gruff way and had confessed to Robin that in a lot of ways the way Hop has taken care of him makes him the closest thing to the father figure he's always wanted but never thought he'd get to have. Steve who hears Murray hum and recollect a visit from Nancy and Jonathan where their romance officially started (he vaguely knows about the visit, didn't realize that's what happened, didn't realize she couldn't be bothered to even do the decent/considerate thing before moving on to something better) because it seemed it was a pattern he was seeing 'people liked Steve, but people didn't love Steve'.

Hop who hears a choked sound like someone taking a claw to the gut and turns to see Harrington. Steve Harrington his bandages just peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the opening of his sleeves. (He never did get the stories behind those, too busy being fussed over and being told about the kids and how they were doing as Harrington played babysitter) Steve Harrington a kid who went through hell and still managed to smile and laugh and stand tall and unyielding looking at him with a blank face his eyes misty and his shoulders starting to curl in on himself before he clears his throat, chokes out that he just wanted to make sure Hop was alright but looks like Murray had everything under control. He'd go now, get out of his hair, let him rest, let him breathe. Steve Harrington who walks away with purpose like a man on a mission and doesn't acknowledge the kids calling out asking if he's alright, make sure he has his walkie talkie on him.

Hop, who realizes maybe he left behind two kids who missed (needed) him. Who wonders who took care of Harrington's paperwork when he was concussed and sedated because he was bleeding out and feverish from infection and Hop was busy at the cabin reveling in the comfort and warmth of his daughter and the woman he loved and her two sons who were fast becoming like his own. Hop, who realizes too late that maybe if he'd given the kid half a chance he could have had 3 sons to sit with him and his daughter and the woman he loved as they basked in surviving another end-of-the-world. Hop who has spent years barely giving a damn about Steve Harrington and realizes that he's no better than the kid's own parents.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4.1

Part 4.2

Part 5

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

it's great that 14 had that whole humans holding two ideas in their heads at the same time thing bc thats exactly what he is to me

[wolfisblank]

He's my comfort character, he's so sweet *I show you the body horror horse-shaped monster who eats people*

[naamahdarling]

.

Little bit of pet loss and sad talk in tags.

[gingeredmink]

heyyy sou & tats! y'all goobers being silly today?

Tats: G-Goober? W-What?? What's with all the name calling recently? First ratboy now goober? Also what is a goober??? I don't understand??????

Sou: -quietly laughing- This one has.

Tats: Huh, has wha- OH! The silly part. A-Actually I don't think I've been being that silly today. ALTHOUGH earlier today Sou-

Sou: Alright you, I'm taking the computer now.

Tats: -pouts-

[the-merry-otter]

It’s buckwild how I can be like “man everything sucks”, and then I fix ONE button on a piece of clothing and suddenly my clouds of depression part like the fucking red sea and the sunshine of happiness shines through

[sharpace]

do viktor and jayce have new years plans? (broverse or crank it or both)

I have a Crank It comic coming out tomorrow for New Year’s BUT in the meantime, I think they spend every year at home and cozy. Neither of them are social unless they have to be.

@weatheredlaw wrote One Simple Trick for 4th of July but I think it’s largely the same case for New Year’s with all fireworks.

For Broverse, Viktor is studying while Jayce is yell-singing outside his dorm window.

[danielsarmand]

[climbing through your window at night] boston is obsessed with top for the exact same reason why top is obsessed with mew (read: he treats him differently than pretty much anyone else he's ever been sexually involved with) but he turns to nick because he needs his validation to feel real [sitting on your bed and grabbing you by the shoulders] it's like boston doesn't feel alive unless he is an object of worship he uses sex as a means to feel like he exists in the world and nick is a constant stream of reassurance and grounding energy to him [shaking you like a can of pringles] but he can't focus on that and on what it might mean because he's too busy trying to get top to stop being stubborn and just... make him the real boy he so desperately wants to be and the tragedy here is that he already is [trashing your room and screaming like a maniac] he doesn't need nick and he most definitely doesn't need top and he doesn't need anyone to perceive him in any particular way in order for him to be real but he'll hurt himself and other people too before he understands that [lying on the floor while you call the cops on me] nice talk

[thegoodending-thelasttime]

I CANT FUCKING FIND IT WHERE IS IT OMFG IM LOSING MY MIND

[the-morphiend]

MORBESTIES 4EVA

[numberonecodwomenfan]

soap got a tramp stamp while high and/or drunk when he was younger and it haunts him to this day

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(If you see this post and your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings @fiore-della-valle

[hopecomesbacktolife]

thinking about how in the phantom of the opera (the musical, not the book; it’s been… 10+? maybe even 15+? years since I’ve read it so I don’t still remember all the finer points of character nuances in the book lol) during the all I ask of you reprise, the phantom sings

“I gave you my music / made your song take wing / and now, how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me / he was bound to love you / when he heard you sing”

and specifically those last two parts— “he was bound to love you when he heard you sing” is so interesting to me like. sure he gets incredibly obsessive and weird TM about both of them as a couple / as an entity later on in the show, but during this part, he’s kind of positing Raoul as an afterthought, almost. he was bound to love you; it was inevitable, almost, everyone loves Christine’s singing; it’s the fact that Christine loves (or even just likes, at this point) Raoul back, that she reciprocates that feeling, that enrages the phantom.

I find this so fascinating because the whole plot is such a fantastic gothic story and a cursory glance might make you think Christine is written as the maiden archetype, almost helpless in the love triangle mess aspect of the plot. But I think it’s fascinating that the phantom here acknowledges that not only did Christine choose Raoul, and what’s more, choose him over the phantom, that is the part he finds as a betrayal. It’s not Raoul’s love that’s his issue; it’s that Christine wanted it, and gave it in return.

idk, it just… acknowledges her agency and autonomy in one succinct line really well, and kind of adds so much more depth to the whole second act’s drama than if she was just.. passively along for the ride? She chose Raoul, and she chose not to choose Erik.

obviously I’m not arguing that the phantom is like this great feminist revolutionary narrative or anything lol— that is kind of irrelevant, tbh, looking at the story within the context of it being a gothic novel (and for the show, a gothic novel source turned musical) and doesn’t fit well into the puzzle prices of that genre to utilize our modern ethics as an analytical tool. I’m just thinking of how fascinating it is that the controlling, obsessive, possessive, friendless, and egotistical self-loathing character of the phantom/Erik still acknowledges that it’s Christine’s choices which create the changes upon which the plot hinges. idk it’s just Cool TM :)

I also am writing this in between work stuff on a crazy busy work day so any misspeaks/misrememberings or errors are due to that lol

also aw man now I wanna go reread phantom again too :((

[yusuke-of-valla]

*lies on the floor* the gamers are being stupid againnn

[cheesecake-bich]

OMG WHATTTTTT I DREW MY DPME OCS?!?!???! (cringe)

WHAAAAAAAAAAAATT??? I REDESIGNED SOME??? WHATTT

okay these guys were popular on my first blog (@cheesecake-beech) when rise of gru came out. Cause other hyper fixators who liked the movie liked the v6 just as much as I did lol