#overanalyzing stranger things again

[josephquinncurl]

If Joseph was truly scared of having fans why would he do a quiet place day one and then gladiator 2, he knows that will make him even more famous he's not dumb. How can you say he wants to quit cause his fans when he's actually more booked than ever. He's obviously scared like fame is scary, he's not used to having fans and people voting and talking about him. That doesn't mean he hates his fans or being famous or anything like that. He also chose to do cons no one forced him he knows what it entails and what he's getting himself into. Don't baby him. He wants more and with that comes fame and he is obviously learning how to deal with everything just like any other actor or singer that blows up like he did. I promise you guys hes fine and you can stop saying his fans are crazy when the vast majority are actually doing nothing at all right now. If anything all the Eddie hype is low now and we are just minding our own business.

[generalsdiary]

a tired gem

Aventurine x Dr. Ratio

warnings: description of overstimulation (not the sexual one)

word count: less than 1k

a/n: back again with another mental health + comfort oneshot about the gays lol, not beta read, we go to superhell with aventurine and castiel

description: Aventurine comes home overstimulated and tired, later comforted by Dr. Ratio

Aventurine's hands felt like they were on fire, they felt swollen, the day was too hot. he is rapidly taking the gloves off his hands, the pretty golden rings off his fingers, the expensive watch slipping from his wrist- and running them under a cold stream of water. Aventurine raises his head, meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

despite the years passing, and him getting older - it still comes back to bite him in the ass. the way his skin feels like it is burning, the overanalyzing of too many people around him – because what if he could be in danger, or even what if someone calls him a fraud, or sees through his oh-so fragile façade. there was too much noise- too many conversations surrounding him, too many unpleasant and various smells- it brings it all back. the starving scorching hot days of little Kakavasha, the slavery of "blondie"... that feeling of which he doesn't even wish the recall the memories of. he feels the repulsion of any human touch settling back in him.

he had gotten better, he knows- Aventurine repeats in his head, he knows how to deal with others and exist normally. how to keep his clothes straight, clean and his shoes polished. how to appear wealthy and smell like a perfume commercial.

Aventurine takes a deep breath. it does little to calm him down, the lukewarm air filling his lungs where a crisp cold air would feel much better to him in the moment.

after rapidly taking his clothes off, and gently folding them even in this moment when he is stressed because how could he just throw those clothes away… after all, they are his mask, his stage presence so to speak, and for Aeon’s sake the price alone could feed every person on his long gone planet. he sits on the shower floor and allows the water to cool down his body- just like the rain of Sigonia-IV did.  Aventurine got over it, he learned to accept and even relish in human contact- with chosen people, yet he cannot even imagine being perceived in this moment. the mere thought of it makes him squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

biting his bottom lip, which shakes slightly in anger and tiredness, he stands up. he has to take care of himself- create a safe environment- and then if he must, wallow in the pain which is overstimulation.

the water washes away any bump from a stranger passing by, any phantom touch that didn't actually happen, but he still had to mentally prepare himself for it just in case it did, any scent which isn't his own. the clean, rough texture of the towel feels pleasant on his skin as he dries up and puts on comfortable clothes.

with complete silence and everything in its right place, he lies on the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. familiar steps approach the bedroom door and the figure leans against the frame. "rough day, dear gambler?"

Aventurine's eyes meet Veritas', not saying a thing. to the doctor, it speaks louder than words. the apparent smirk fading off, his body language turning a tad softer and he exhales. he is quick to deduce exactly how his counterpart feels. Veritas is well aware that any sound or even a question that requires verbal communication would be awful to Aventurine at this moment hence he, with a soft step, walks over to the bed and lies down beside him. not close to touch him accidentally- with a healthy distance, yet still there.

Aventurine appreciates it, the doctor had already learned how he can get... how rough it can be. feeling exhaustion wash over him, he moves to his side, and those breathtaking gem-like eyes close, letting the poor blond man rest under the watchful eyes of the older man.

a couple of hours later, he wakes up, his eyes opening to be met with a quiet Veritas reading a book in the same place, unmoving except for the occasional page turn. Aventurine quietly observes, obviously noticed by Veritas. the doctor surely noticed the shift in his, now awake, breathing, and the colorful eyes opening to stare at him.

he grounds himself in reality and in the moment, taking shorter breaths and shifting to stretch his body a bit, taking care of the soreness. he feels better, soothed... his head is quiet, and his body feels okay to exist in the present, to exist now. Aventurine outstretches his arm, and hand, barely noticeable, tugs on Veritas' shirt, causing him to move his gaze to Aventurine. beat. he hums quietly, giving him a nod in silent question. it feels inviting and safe, Aventurine moves his body closer, into the taller man's side. as he does, Veritas closes the book putting it away, and moves his arm so that Aventurine can rest his head on his collarbone.

the second part of grounding. comforting touch, from a safe person with a safe scent. there is a silent appreciation for the doctor’s frequent baths and cleanliness. Aventurine's eyes close with a soft sigh, it feels right, it feels comfortable. Veritas' hand, at first, very gently moves through the blond locks, after a few seconds of body language analysis, he continues caressing his hair. Ratio's other hand moves to his face, his thumb caressing for a moment Aventurine's cheekbone. "better?" he hums in a deep tone with a rumble in his chest.

those gorgeous watercolor eyes open, the softest smile forming on Aventurine's face and a small nod. "yes"

a/n: yes, the ‘watercolor eyes’ is a reference to the song Dear Arkansas Daughter

[nylongenesis]

Here’s the thing about Timothy stoker

here it is the tim post

People who say tim is an asshole are partially correct.

People who say tim is ‘toxic’ are INCORRECT.

I am very strongly about this because. listen to me. okay.

SPOILERS UP TO TMA SEASON 3 AHEAD

Imagine BEING timothy stoker. After whats probaboy the secondmost traumatizing experience of your life in which you almost die if not by the worms then by the MEDICAL EMERGENCY (respiratory acidosis is a medical emergency :3) your body was put into- plagued with nightmares and the pain of your body being covered in holes and your medical issues, you come back to the archives expecting to see your best friend, That will make it all better. It’ll be so worth it once you can see her again.

And then she acts so distant. And you dont know why.

And you have just lost your friendship. The one that’s kept you going this whole time. The one you were starting to believe might have been unbreakable. And you Don’t. Know. Why.

Eventually after many failed attempts to reconnect, you resign yourself to the fact that she just got tired of you. That you were right this whole time. That she just pitied you. You still don’t know what you did wrong and it’s eating you alive, but she won’t tell you, so you have to settle with pretending to be glad that she’s at least alive, All while your boss is literally going insane and STALKING YOU???

Only to find out after a YEAR of believing you were just unlovable that this person? The person youve been trying to ‘reconnect’ with? That isnt your best friend, Your best friend dies and you never noticed. How could you not notice? But when you see the real picture of her she feels like a stranger and you realize you have no fucking escape from your horrible, unforgivable sin of forgetting your friend. Because no matter what you do, trying to look back at your memories, that *thing* is there instead. You can’t even enjoy your memories before she died.

So you sit there, alone and afraid. Angry, grieving, everything else. What are you supposed to do but make the thing that has haunted you since the disappearance of your Brother feel the kind of pain it is making you feel?

Tim isn’t toxic. Hell I wouldn’t even say he’s that much of an asshole.

He’s a hurt child.

Mentally, especially in season three, he’s having the equivalent of a child’s breakdown. The kind they have when they don’t know how to express the emotions they’re feeling. These emotions- this grief, this anger, this pain- it’s so big, it’s so much, and he feels so small, so incapable and weak, and he cannot properly handle it. He cannot cope. Especially since he’s still somewhat trapped in who he was when his brother was taken.

Now im not saying the way he went about this is at all great, but yknow. Everyone forgives reactions to trauma until they’re personally inconvenient or ugly.

Tim lost everything, and honestly i would be pretty damn similar if I was in his position! That’s DEVASTATING.

In the end, there’s such a horrible tragedy to his entire character that goes almost entirely unnoticed unless you’re like me and you’re insane and overanalyze someone based on one word in an extra audio thats not in the podcast.

Anyways, that’s why I love Tim.

[riveracheron]

hey guys have my wild magnus protocol theory that stemmed from me just overanalyzing the little bits of content we have

i think lena is a homunculus.

(spoilers for the pilot and jonny + alex’s post pilot discussion under the cut)

basically this stems from. a lot of places w small amounts of information so some of this might be stretches. But

1. a lot of marketing around protocol mentions the theme of “what does it mean to be a person?” which. leads me to believe there’s gonna be a plot around a protag being Not Human but has the heart or whatever the fuck. standard pinnochio or wizard of oz story. sure youre not human but ur a person bc of xyz free will or whatever

2. lena’s behavior in the pilot is So odd and almost inhuman in its extremely dull corporate jargon way. she literally uses things like “you can file a complaint” or “here at the oiar we….” (advertiser shit) , in genuine conversation. she doesn’t leave the building, either and has a Generic office party.

im genuinely thinking bureaucracy and the weird eldritch stuff of the oiar is Literally all she knows, not that shes being manipulative and evil in the trailer like elias; she doesn’t or maybe cannot question the whole. asking sam about the eldritch trauma thing, something something cant understand human emotions and why that might be troubling.

also “people like chocolate cake.” that sounds weird and something someone with only base knowledge of humanity would say.

she’s described as “an odd one” by jonny and that we will “get her soon”. im under the full belief that shes the non-human character of the bunch thatll yknow. have the Real Boy plot

3. homunculus specifically comes from all the alchemy shit around protocol, and homunculi are some of the most famous alchemical creations in popular culture, and i think she’s not. an entity creation. lenas too much of an important character to just be like. tied to An Entity, as a main character extremely tied to the OIAR, that entity would have to be the basis of like the entire plot of protocol; which i doubt theyd do.

the eye is so important to archives because the themes of archives was the consequences of knowledge- the entire plot was engineered around the Eye as the Main Character Entity and the Eye was written to be that in turn, sorta similarly to how Griffindor is the Main Character House (TM) of HP with its themes of bravery. i doooont think the oiar is tied to the stranger or flesh or any other simulacrum creating entities.

all that to say i think lena is a different kind of artificial human, one that’s manmade rather than entity made yknow?

we get glances of the people above her in status, theres mentions of an ephemeral “he” in the pilot, so. heres what i think

the He in question is an alchemist whose in charge of the OIAR (and maybe other branches but lets focus w the oiar). He created Lena the homunculus to be the middle manager of the branch in his stead; “programming” her to be as dull and corporate as possible to keep the employees in line or whatever. something something shes got a plot wrestling with that and her inherent lack of persondom

EDIT: totally forgot this part

adding that the first statement’s plot was about an abomination of corpses given a humanlike shape and coming back wrong which is. exactly what frankenstein’s monster is, and frankenstein’s monster is considered a homunculus.

with the anglerfish’s importance to season 3 of archives i definitely think the Arthur monster will come up again in some form, but maybe instead of Actually being In Podcast maybe its a parallel to the main characters’ story in the same way that many s4 statements were used to give us more information on how jon is working through it all. the zombie statement when he just wakes up comes to mind especially. maybe it’s a hint and echo of what a Character in podcast (lena) is

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Overanalyzing Leo's Fears

Leo's fear is easy to pinpoint. He's terrified of abandonment. But why? And is that all there is to it? Let's look into that...

Leo's past is a bit complicated and tumultuous... following the events after Draxum lost him, Leo spent something around an entire year living alone in the backstreets of the Hidden City. And then he met Mikey. The two were only five and four years old, but even at that age Leo knew he couldn't raise a toddler all by himself. So he went to an unscrupulous orphanage for help. For several years, Mikey and Leo lived in that hovel filled with starving kids, each one fighting for attention and family. But Leo saw Mikey's needs and always put him first, stealing extra rations for him and giving him the clothes he needed.

Leo and Mikey were placed in a system similar to foster care, where families would adopt them and go through a sort of trial run to see if the kids were a good fit. Mikey always fit in pleasantly, everyone loved him! But as for Leo... he never seemed to get it right. A rambunctious child, defiant and stubborn, and with a head made for schemes? He was constantly sent back to the orphanage. (As was Mikey, who would rather be with his brother than strangers.) So, Leo was given a twisted view of what families were like: people who pretend to care for you, but will eventually discard you once they find what's wrong with you. And there is ALWAYS something wrong with you...

Leo was against Mikey's little found family from the start, because he never trusted the idea of a family to begin with! But as time passed by, he slowly started to grow closer with the two other turtles Mikey adored. However, something happened that caused Leo to lose his trust in them, and as a result, he did what so many had done with him before -- he left. And not just Donnie and Raph, Leo left Mikey.

While he was soon to be reunited with his brothers, Leon felt incredible guilt over what he'd done to Michelangelo. He couldn't believe that he'd done that to his baby brother, he didn't understand why he'd left Mikey for something he never did, an excuse so stupid as "he'd be better off without me"?! Why? (Raph would eventually pinpoint that Leo was subconsciously trying to test Mikey's love for him, to see if he would come back to him even if he left, to prove wrong what Leo feared all his life...)

It comes back to the start. Before the betrayal, before the families that sent him back, before the orphanage that hated him. It was Draxum who first instilled this fear in him. Because Leo was never actually lost from Draxum. Leo was discarded. Because he would not obey or conform, Draxum threw the child into the gutters as a way to teach him self-reliance and survival skills. (And even before that, what Leo doesn't remember but his subconscious still retains... is that Raph left him originally. In the character sheet for Raph, you'll find the last thing it says is Raph's earliest memory -- of him promising to find someone before running away. That was Leo. Raph promised to come back for him, to find him again and save him and the others... but after running away, he was discovered by Big Mama and soon lost all memory of the other experiments. Leo won't recall that moment, but the pain it caused stays with him.)

Leo expects everyone he loves to leave him. Because he believes -- no, it has been ingrained into him that he is worthless, and that the world is cruel.

[lycheeloach]

overanalyzing mordecai's letter to his mom

Transcription + ramblings under the cut

Mother, Forgive my unannounced departure. Circumstances relating to my employment have made required me to travel on short notice. It may be some time before I am able to correspond again, but you will find savings in my rented room above the dry grocery adequate for living. Give Mrs. Kovitz the name Ezra [and] she will allow you upstairs. There is a safe box in the southeast corner behind the baseboard. [combination in Hebrew, more on that later] Please use some portion of it to relocate to more suitable living space, expeditiously. Purchase somewhere if you are able. The building is poorly ventilated, m[cut off, but based on the version from the Lackadaisy website it almost certainly says 'moldy'] and unhealthful. -M[ordecai]

First things first, he opens his letter with just 'mother'. 1) he's more formal than Esther, who just calls her 'mom' (though that might be because it's a Serious Letter). 2) he also signs it just 'Mordecai'. no 'dear' or 'love' here because he's totally not sentimental at all, right? he's also bad at expressing emotions, so instead we have to extrapolate how much his family means to him through his actions.

'forgive my unannounced departure' is telling in a couple of ways. First, it's pretty much an apology, which is something we don't really see from Mordecai. Second, it suggests that he and his mom are still in frequent contact, even after he's moved out.

The way Mordecai crosses out the word 'made' and replaces it with 'required' is probably in an effort to sound less alarming- less like he was forced to skip town. But he's so pressed for time and resources that he doesn't start over with a fresh sheet of paper.

'It may be some time before I am able to correspond again' he knows he's screwed. He's pretty sure he's going to die on this train, but he focuses on what's more important- writing to his mom and telling her where to find the money necessary for her and his sisters to have a better life.

It's revealed that Mordecai is renting a room- this gives him the personal space he so desperately needs, and also might be for reasons of keeping his work and home lives separate. Ezra is presumably an alias and he may have even given Mrs. Kovitz instructions to let his mother in if she ever came by. (Sidenote, in all likelihood she was probably just his landlady but I still kinda want to know how Mordecai would interact with Mrs. Kovitz.)

SO. here's an interesting fact for you. The safe combination is the name of Mordecai's youngest sister, Hannah, who died in infancy (you can see her in Tzipporah's arms here). Characters in the Hebrew alphabet correspond to numbers, hence how her name could be a safe combination. I can't phrase this in an analytical way- Mordecai using the name of his sister who died approximately a decade ago for the safe makes me explode. It makes all my bones fall out.

Apparently Mordecai saved enough money for his family to only need some of it to move to a better place. He emphasizes the importance of moving right away, because their building is gross- more than that, the tenements had very high mortality rates, something that the Heller family experienced firsthand.

The last thing I want to say is how desperate Mordecai is to get the letter mailed, practically begging strangers for postage. He's certain he's about to be shot in the face and he still fixates on sending that letter, because if he doesn't, everything he did for his family will have been for nothing.

In conclusion, I am normal.

[itsnotzka]

Hello! Huh, what's this? A silly, cheesy little thing, I'd say ;)

TW: (very mild) alcohol, talking about stalking in a not very serious manner Genre: ...fluff? Silly fluff? Confused fluff? Word count: 5,3k Characters: Jake x Phil You can also read it on Ao3.

Not your stalker

With a quiet, contented sigh and a smile on his face, Phil finally let the last customer out and closed the door of Aurora behind them. He turned around and took a few steps towards the center of the pub, taking it all in. The wooden floors creaked softly under his feet. The air was thick with the comforting scent of dust, cigarette smoke, and the faint aroma of old furniture.

He knew it wasn’t the most pleasant smell for most, but for him, it was everything. To Phil, it was more than just a smell; it was a reminder of all he had, and almost lost just a couple of months back. 

Every time he started cleaning up Aurora for the night, he thought about the day he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit and thrown into jail for a few weeks, with basically no explanation. The memories still lingered in his mind, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

For quite some time, nobody really cared about him. They had other things on their minds, such as their missing friends being found. He knew he wasn't a perfect person. People tended to either love him or hate him. However, at that time, those he thought were his friends simply didn't care, while those who couldn't stand him laughed behind his back. There was somehow no in-between.

The bartender couldn't help but smile, still lost in thought. He was released from custody only because someone had paid his bail. Then, mysteriously, his lawyer found evidence of his innocence. Normally, there would be nothing unusual about this—lawyers have their own methods for uncovering the truth and exploiting legal loopholes—but the sudden clarity of this particular situation was nothing short of a miracle. At least it felt that way. Despite the happy outcome, his lawyer seemed eager to sever all ties with Phil as soon as possible. In fact, he refused to even accept any money from him, leaving Phil with a sense of both gratitude and absolute confusion.

He hadn’t told his sisters about it. At first, he suspected they might have been involved, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He knew Jessy and Angela all too well; they were always quick to point out his flaws and mistakes, even the smallest ones. Surely, they wouldn't have helped him without a big, wonderful lecture about his life. So he just told them the case was solved, period.

He stopped caring about it and moved on. At least, that's what he was telling himself. He shook his head in frustration, trying not to overanalyze everything once again.

He walked over to the bar, slowly making his way through the tables, turning off the lights, picking up empty beer mugs, and wiping down the surfaces. Unable to shake his thoughts away, he changed the music to something less modern to keep his mind off things, but it didn't help either. Then he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the bell hanging above the door.

“I’m sorry, I already closed the pub,” he said, turning towards the sound. “Come back tomorrow, eh?”

Only then did he look at the person standing in the doorway and frown. He didn't recognize them. He knew basically every face, every name in Duskwood, after all. He knew at least something about everyone. Those were the advantages of running the only pub in town! Rumors came to him, and tourists, if they appeared at all, came early and didn't stay long.

And yet… there was a stranger in front of him.

The man didn’t answer. He just raised his brow slowly, glanced at Phil, and then looked around the pub.

“Look… I'm tired, I've already cleared the tables. I can give you a beer to go, but that's it,” the bartender said again, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance.

“I don’t drink,” the stranger replied, his voice resonant and clear, his eyes meeting the bartender's.

Phil paused, the corners of his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read the stranger's face, but it was particularly hard. “So, can I help you with anything else?” he asked with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't sure, but the stranger seemed to give him a small smile. Then the man closed the door behind him and briskly walked down the two steps that led inside the pub.

“I just thought I could finally visit this place,” the man replied casually.

The bartender sighed deeply, trying to keep his composure. "Listen, man… I already told you, Aurora is closed for the night," Phil said firmly, walking over to the door and opening it wide. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay here. Now be so kind and get out, or I'll call the police.”

"Oh? The same police that were stupid enough to arrest you?" the stranger’s mocked.

The pub was quite dark, with most of the lamps already turned off by Phil. But at that moment, the light of a street lamp shone in through the open pub door, casting a warm glow on the stranger's face, finally illuminating his features.

As the bartender glanced at his unexpected guest, he noticed the fairly young man was likely around his age, if not a few years older. His all-black outfit, complete with a backpack clearly designed for carrying a laptop, gave him a serious and tidy vibe. Although his nearly black hair seemed neatly combed, it curled in every direction, as if mocking his efforts to keep it in check. Phil couldn't help but notice the man's tired, dark eyes. Yet there was something about his gaze, a level of… maturity that Phil had not expected to see.

“Get out,” the bar owner repeated, but without much conviction.

The stranger laughed softly but ignored his words, calmly and surely walking over to the bar. Laying his heavy backpack on one of the barstools, he sat on another, resting his hands on the counter.

“Could I get some coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the somewhat confused bartender.

Phil was not a person to be easily upset. True, sometimes he could say too much or react too harshly, but only with words. He was good with words and with people. But for some reason, the stranger didn't seem to care about that… and it was annoying.

“What do you want from me? Didn't you hear what I said?” Phil snapped, his frustration boiling over. He slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the room. Turning to the man, he stomped over, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Grabbing the stranger's arm, he spun him around on the stool with such force that he almost fell off his seat.

Phil was surprised when the stranger didn’t react with fear or surprise, but instead looked at him with an understanding gaze, as if he knew something that Phil didn't. The bartender's anger slowly dissipated as he studied the man's reaction, taking a small step back.

"Now, to answer your questions…”  the man sighed, shifting on the barstool once more. “First, I'd appreciate some coffee or something else with caffeine. For your other concern… of course, I've heard what you said, but I don't necessarily want to leave. The truth is, I feel like I owe you this meeting… or at least an explanation."

Phil scoffed. "Oh, you think so?"

"Correct," the stranger exhaled. "I should have done it sooner, but somehow, well... To be completely honest with you, Hawkins, I think you were getting on my nerves a bit too much," he added with a lopsided smile.

"So, you know who I am?" Phil's anger was replaced by curiosity in less than a few seconds.

The bartender then quickly bit his bottom lip, refraining from asking the stranger more. He was well aware of one of his greatest flaws and, even though he didn't like to admit it to himself too often, he secretly enjoyed being the center of attention. No matter what.

"So... no coffee then? Well, that's a shame," the stranger rested his hands on the counter once more and pointed to a soda drink on the right side behind the bar. "So let’s put it this way. The truth is, I happen to know quite a bit about you accidentally, even though you probably don't know who I am. Before you jump to any conclusions - no, I am not your stalker; no, I am not trying to extort money from you; and no, I am definitely not involved in any scheme or conspiracy that would require your involvement."

"You know about me... accidentally ?" Phil repeated doubtfully, walking behind the bar and facing the stranger. "What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Oh, well..." he chuckled again, "I wouldn't say it’s bullshit. Not entirely, at least. You see, we both became involved in the same case a while back, and I was actually forced to learn more about you. You understand that I did not do this for my own enjoyment, although I must admit..." he hesitated, then cringed, "You are not very cautious with what you post online; that was so easy... So yes. It was, at least to some extent, accidental."

"The same case...? Wait, wait, hold on..." Phil resisted the urge to grab his own head in surprise. "Are you... that guy? That hacker or whatever. That tech-savvy guy that disappeared after Hannah was found? No way it’s you… Police say he's dead. That he died during the mine fire."

“I have two pieces of information for you,” the stranger leaned forward conspiratorially and spread his hands. “The first one... I’ve heard you were a good bartender. I somehow can’t picture that, you know?”

Phil looked completely confused as the man rolled his eyes slightly and nodded meaningfully at the soda bottle once more. Gritting his teeth, Phil blindly reached into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, slammed it against the counter, opened it with the agility of a truly experienced bartender, and pushed it towards the man, ending with a jazz hands gesture.

Annoyed jazz hands gesture.

The man only chuckled and nodded in approval, taking a sip of his long-awaited drink.

"And the second thing?" the bartender urged.

“The second thing!” the stranger chuckled. “The second thing is… I don't think you trust the police after all the trouble they caused you, so do you think you should trust them if they say that guy is dead? You’re talking about that Ironsplinter mine fire, correct?”

“Yeah… there was no way he survived that.”

“Oh?” the man chuckled, “I think his chances were quite good, actually.”

Phil frowned, “How so?”

"Well..." the stranger spread his hands again. "I'm not an expert, but I know a thing or two about mines. Actually, I know a lot about many things, but it doesn't matter now... I won't bore you with the details because you probably don't care, but believe me, there are many safety features in mines like that one that can help you survive fire, explosion, shockwaves... It's just a matter of knowing your surroundings well. The amount of air can be a problem during a fire like that, but it can also be remedied. So… maybe he didn't die after all. But what do I know?”

“That's… interesting,” Phil concluded, and the stranger snorted.

The bartender fell silent, analyzing every single word the stranger had said. It was already clear to Phil that he would not tell him anything directly, especially not about himself. The man didn't confirm anything explicitly, but he didn't have to. Phil already knew the answer to his question.

“Alright, I get it… So should I call you Jake, then? That was the name of that techie guy, if I remember correctly.”

“Was it, really?” the stranger smirked. “In that case, you can call me whatever you want, Hawkins. Jake is a name as good as any.”

“Really? Okay then, Techie,” Phil placed his palms on the counter. “You’ve said you owed me… why exactly? Why are you here?” he reiterated, still confused by the stranger’s presence.

Jake paused for a moment, his piercing gaze fixed on the bar owner. Phil was not one to be easily intimidated, but there was something about Jake that made him uneasy yet intrigued at the same time. Was it his unwavering confidence, his carefree attitude, or maybe something else entirely?

“I understand that my visit may seem unnecessary, but I felt compelled to come,” Jake responded, his tone measured and deliberate. “You see, there’s something about you that… let’s say, that doesn’t add up to me.”

“Oh…” the bartender nodded, feeling annoyed and somehow disappointed again. “So you want to accuse me of more things, then? Tell me I should rot in jail, like some other wonderful people?”

“No... nothing like that,” the man chuckled nervously, his dark hair falling onto his forehead. He brushed the locks away with a casual flick of his hand, trying to hide the fact that he was clearly troubled. As he paused to collect his thoughts, his eyes darted around the room. Finally, he spoke again, his voice hesitant and uncertain.

“I know someone anonymously paid your bail, and I may know more about that. I may know a lot about that. And I believe it still bothers you, so I think I should share it with you. And, well… I suppose what I'm trying to say is that this meeting has been weighing heavily on my mind. I've been thinking about it quite often, trying to figure out what to say or… how to say it, and I think I still don’t know… I mean… okay, here's the thing. Do you remember the second person who got involved in this case by accident?” Jake continued, “You… you invited her to Aurora. She never came here, but still, you did, and—”

“The girl? Shit… okay, now I think I get it,” the bartender sighed deeply and nodded, as he couldn’t believe it was that simple. It was always that simple when there were feelings involved. “Don’t tell me… It hit your ego, didn't it? You liked her, right? Did you come to tell me I was not only released from the arrest thanks to you, but they actually arrested me because of you in the first place? You got jealous of that girl, and that's why I had a shitty couple of months? Was it your revenge?”

The stranger shrugged, but his awkward smile said it all.

Guilty as charged.

“Great... so you almost ruined my life over some chick I don't even know?! Only because I invited her here? I did nothing wrong! Couldn't you explain it between you two? You had to get me into this… And you still have the nerve to come to my bar and—”

“No, wait,” the alleged hacker silenced him with a gesture. “I mean… you almost got it right. I do feel guilty you were in that arrest for quite some time, but for a different reason…” the stranger rubbed his neck nervously. “What if… hypothetically, of course, what if I knew right away how to get you out of this? I knew you were innocent and I had proof for that? But... she was so interested in you... and you in her! And I didn't want you to be interested in her… I guess I was just… confused about you. Shit, it doesn't make sense, does it?”

Phil frowned, but slowly the meaning of the stranger's words began to dawn on him. He wasn't after the girl who helped solve the case. Techie was after… him.

He was jealous of… him?

Was that even possible?

He knew he should be angry. Furious even! It was about his life! Countless hours wasted in the arrest he didn’t deserve! Yet, somehow… The guilty look on the stranger’s face made it fade away. He'd be lying if he said he didn't wonder who that mysterious hacker was from back then, or why exactly he was involved in the case. He knew back then that the answers to these questions were just beyond his reach, but now, miraculously, he was sitting in front of him, almost vulnerable and almost exposed. His fascination overcame his anger. The stranger's eyes were full of remorse, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of sympathy.

Sympathy and something else, but he wasn’t sure what it was…

Curiosity!

It had to be just curiosity.

“My, my… So I think you are my stalker, after all…” The bartender hummed, taking two steps away from Jake, but somehow couldn't help but smile.

“No. No, no. Nuh-uh! This statement is definitely not true!” The alleged hacker protested immediately, pointing his finger at Phil as he blushed a bit, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know things about you, and I learned them without your consent, that is correct. Good luck to you with suing me. But I— it’s not my fault. And I didn’t— I wasn’t really— I just wanted to understand you better!" He paused and took a deep breath. "Didn't I help you after all?! You got out, didn’t you? And I am not a stalker! Jesus, I think I need a real drink… " he trailed off.

The bartender was taken aback by the unexpected outburst and blinked a couple of times in confusion. However, he soon burst out laughing, unable to hold it any longer. "Wow, you really lost your cool there, man… You’ve just admitted to some weird things…" he said between chuckles, "I didn’t think it was possible! In fact, you sound exactly like a stalker trying to explain himself, you know." The bartender knew his mocking tone only made the situation more awkward and uncomfortable for the stranger.

“Yeah.. Coming here was a mistake, I guess…” Jake scoffed, grabbed his backpack, and was about to jump off the stool and leave the pub, but Phil, without thinking too much, grabbed his forearm. The stranger winced in surprise, but as his dark eyes met the calm eyes of the bartender, he slowly sat back down.

“Alright, okay. You’re not my stalker, yeah?” Phil smiled,letting go of his arm, “But I think you still owe me more explanation. Fair?”

“F-fair,” the stranger muttered.

To Phil's surprise, Jake leaned forward from his stool and across the counter, invading the bartender's personal space as if it was absolutely nothing unusual. The stranger's arm accidentally grazed Phil's shoulder as he gently pushed him away and reached for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from behind the bar. Before Phil could even register what was going on, the stranger was already sitting back on his stool, pouring the liquor generously into the glasses.

“I… thought you said you don’t drink,” Phil observed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And I thought you were a self-absorbed, narcissistic, brainless drama queen, and yet here we are, engaging in a somewhat intelligent conversation. How about that?”

Phil chuckled, a bit taken aback, as he watched Jake down his drink in one swift motion, followed by a wince and quiet grunt. With a solid tap, the stranger placed the glass back on the counter, exhaling audibly.

“That’s some terrible whiskey, Hawkins,” he admitted, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

“It’s my finest one, Techie,” Phil smirked, “And the most expensive one, too.”

“Still quite terrible, for my sophisticated taste… And don't call me Techie.”

“Then don't call me by my father's stupid name.”

Jake blinked a couple of times, as if realizing something. “Right. I forgot he was an asshole, too. Bigger than you.”

“You forgot— oh, Jesus…” the bartender whined, “Don't tell me you even know about my father? I didn’t post anything about that online… How the fuck? How much do you exactly know about me, Stalker?”

“Again with the stalker…” the hacker poked Phil’s chest with his finger, “Listen, the thing about your father is quite well-known around town, isn't it? It's not that weird that even I know about it… and I didn't have to dig too deep to—”

“Damn it, Stalker.” Phil shook his head in disbelief, “You're a walking red flag. I should have thrown you out as soon as you came here. Why am I even still talking to you?”

“Oh, come on, I've never— I am not that bad.”

“Any other sane person would have handed you over to the police a long time ago, Stalker. You do realize that, don’t you?” Phil finally took the glass into his hand and sipped his whiskey.

“But you won’t do that,” the stranger smiled as he clinked his glass with Phil’s, “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?”

“That's very possible. So what do you think about me, then? Besides that I’m a brainless douche, that is…”

The bartender's question lingered in the air for a few seconds before Jake spoke up. His voice was clear and confident, matching the intensity of his gaze, "I have a couple of thoughts, actually," he said, pausing for dramatic effect, taking a sip of his whiskey as well, "Ready? First and foremost, I think that you have an overinflated sense of self-importance," Jake's tone was stern but not unfriendly, "Secondly, you have a habit of getting under my skin. I can't explain it, but something about the way you carry yourself and the things you say just... irks me, but that much you already know. It's like you're actually trying to push my buttons or something!" He shook his head in frustration. "And finally, I think you may be a ginormous asshole, but you're also… intriguing in a way that I don't—don't quite understand." Jake paused once more, letting his words sink in. Then he, once again, angrily poked Phil’s chest with his finger, "And I don't like it. Not. One. Bit.”

“Oh? And you’re very weird, Stalker. You know that, right?” A little pissed off by the stranger's behavior, Phil grabbed Jake's hand and moved it away from his chest, but didn't let it go afterward. Suddenly, he felt a strange warmth spreading throughout his whole body, an electrifying feeling caused by the touch of the hacker's skin on his own. The stranger looked straight at him, his big, dark eyes almost like they were trying to read his soul. The expression on his face reminded Phil of a deer in the headlights and it definitely didn't help him with getting rid of the hacker.

As Phil slowly released his hand, the silence between them engulfed them both. Jake’s Breathing became heavier, and his cheeks, once pale, now glowed with a blush.

The bartender rested his elbows on the counter right next to him. Close enough to feel the slight touch of fabric of Jake's hoodie on his skin. The stranger's earlier confidence seemed to have disappeared, and the bartender couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol or Jake's confessions that had caused this change.

After a brief moment of silence, the stranger spoke up, "I'm sorry," he said, leaning forward slightly.

The bartender furrowed his brows. "What exactly are you sorry for? Because I could name a few things now..."

The hacker smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, "I didn't mean to be annoying, "he admitted, his hand idly drifting towards the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He rested his hand on it but refrained from lifting it. “I'm not exactly a people person, you see. I just… I wanted to get you out of my head. It didn’t quite work out as I expected…”

Feeling the weight of the moment, Phil gently placed his hand on the whiskey bottle, his fingers brushing against Jake's. The hacker hesitated, his gaze locked onto Phil's intense stare.

In a soft, almost whispered voice, Phil spoke, "Easy there. You're not much of a drinker, and if there's something you want from me, I want you to be clear-headed enough to ask for it. You're already a puzzle without the alcohol. Stick to your soda, Stalker."

Jake's eyes shifted from Phil's to the bottle, as if contemplating its significance. 

After a moment of reflection, Phil continued, his voice measured, "Alright, let's lay it out. You're quiet, so let me see if I understand correctly..." He released his grip on the bottle, meeting Jake's gaze with a steady intensity. "You're suggesting that I'm getting under your skin, but I'd argue otherwise. I have a feeling you actually like me, and you're just not sure how to handle it. That’s your dilemma, Techie.”

"Wow, okay. If what you're saying would even be true," Jake said dismissively, "Would that even be a problem? Like, you know… my problem?”

Phil leaned in closer to Jake once more, a small smile forming on his lips. His fingers traced the hem of the stranger's sleeve playfully as he leaned forward more, "Well, we could always make it my problem, too," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “Because, believe it or not, you somehow… fascinate me, too.”

“Oh?”

"Don't get me wrong... You obviously have issues, and I have a feeling your mere presence means trouble. But, the thing is, I don't mind trouble. Life’s boring without it, right? And maybe I should keep an eye on you… to stop you from stalking me further. So… which is it? Do you like me or hate me?"

Jake’s dark hair fell across his face, but Phil could still see the glint in his eyes, "I still can’t decide… Can I say it's both?"

Phil’s smirk grew wider, “It never happens, you know. People either love me or hate me. But you…” he shook his head, “You’re different.”

“Is that a compliment? Are you telling me I’m special? It could be good and bad, you know…” Jake chuckled as he playfully pushed him away, his hand lingering on his chest a little too long.

Then Phil realized he was somehow already long gone... The stranger had managed to wrap the bartender around his finger without him even noticing. The mischievous twinkle in Jake's dark, deep eyes was impossible to resist, drawing Phil towards him like two black holes. Phil found himself powerless to resist the pull, feeling as though he had absolutely nowhere to run.

“What?” Jake asked, noticing Phil was staring at him without saying a word, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I have an idea how to help you with your dilemma. Can I… check something?” Phil tilted his “Um, what exact—” Jake wanted to ask, but he didn’t get to finish his question.

Phil was tired of guessing. He sighed, taking the stranger’s face into his hands, his fingers gently entwining with the strands of Jake's dark, tousled hair. As he leaned in, his heart raced, and he could feel the warmth of the hacker's breath on his lips. Yet, to his surprise, Jake tensed up, his eyes widening in a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. Phil's fingers tightened slightly on Jake's hair, reassuring and firm.

Their kiss was soft, almost tentative, their lips barely grazing each other's. Yet, Phil's tongue slowly found its way into Jake's mouth, and the man welcomed it with a quiet sigh.

That was it. That was what Phil wanted to achieve. 

Phil couldn't suppress a chuckle as the taste of whiskey lingered on Stranger's lips, a soft, breathless sound passing between them. He felt Jake's hesitant smile against his own,a silent acknowledgment that he finally realized what it was all about.

The bartender was suddenly glad that there was a bar counter between them, otherwise he would have pulled the stranger much closer.

“Shit… you really did that,” Jake mumbled as they broke the kiss, but they stayed close, “And you know what’s worse? Fuck, Hawkins, I think I liked that…”

Phil's lips curved into a smirk, his voice low and hoarse as he looked deep into the Stranger’s eyes that no longer felt strange to him, “Liked it, eh? Well, well, well... Seems like we've stumbled upon something interesting here.”

Jake exhaled, his reddened lips still curled into a smile, “Don’t get any ideas, Hawkins…”

The stranger leaned back a bit as Phil’s hands let go of his hair. Then he playfully tugged at Phil's t-shirt, the fabric stretching slightly as he did so.

Suddenly, the watch on the stranger's hand emitted a high, short beep, interrupting the moment. Jake’s expression changed immediately as he glanced at the device. He sighed heavily in frustration, and without any explanation, moved away from the bartender, hopped off the stool, and grabbed his backpack.

Phil was left quite confused. He quickly jumped out from behind the bar and grabbed the stranger's arm, wanting at least some sort of explanation, “Hey, whoa… What is it?”

"I have to go. I'm sorry,” the stranger said quickly, his tone tinged with regret.

"Wha— Why?" Phil asked, his grip on the stranger's arm tightening, “Is it because we–”

"No," he replied with a slight smile. "I don’t really want to go. But it doesn’t matter. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Phil's brows furrowed in confusion. "So.. you're just leaving me like that? After we–" he scoffed. "Will I… will I even see you again?"

The stranger paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. Then, he smiled slowly, his fingers lightly tugging at the hem of Phil's shirt once more. "Even if I wanted to come back here, which I do not confirm at all," he said, his voice teasing, "I would… probably come here tomorrow, same time. Purely hypothetically, of course. We could… get to know each other better. Properly. Without any hint of stalking."

Phil's heart skipped a beat at the prospect. He needed to see him again.

"Is that so, Stalker?" Phil said, grinning, “You mean I could get to know you better. You already know all about me, right?”

The hacker snorted, “Oh, come on, I thought we’re past it…”

“But I don’t want you to go,” the bartender admitted, his voice softer.

The stranger smiled in a way that made Phil’s head spin, “Too bad, Drama Queen. I’m already gone.”

“Well then, Techie. I’ll be thinking about our next, hypothetical meeting.”

A snort of amusement escaped Jake's lips, but his eyes betrayed his hesitation as he held Phil's gaze, “See you never. I demand coffee next time. And maybe some better whiskey…”

At that moment, it seemed like the hacker wanted to say or do something, but he only managed to muster a frustrated grunt. He shook his head, allowing his dark curls to tumble with the motion, and reluctantly, after a couple of long, long seconds, he finally let go of Phil's shirt. A sly smile then crept across his face, a spark in his eyes that made Phil's heart skip a beat. Despite his temptation to keep the stranger with him for even just a bit longer, Phil grudgingly let him leave. 

With a final glance, the stranger turned on his heels and strode out of the pub, disappearing into the night.

[xalygatorx]

just an a/n from ao3 about fic comments and messages on death in pink

I’m a little surprised this needs to be said, but I’ve also not discouraged it before now, so some of that’s on me—picking apart a chapter I’ve posted (criticizing it, overanalyzing it, projecting on it, whatever) except to like maybe note a line you liked or something is not conducive to the enthusiasm and joy it takes to continue and ultimately finish what’s essentially a serialized WIP.

Additionally hopping into my Tumblr DMs and getting overfamiliar with me is also a source of discomfort. Asking a question is fine if you don’t want to use an actual “ask” for that, I get it and it’s cool, but anything past that is more than I signed up for. Getting those critiques via DM is, believe it or not, also not great and is somehow more uncomfortable than the AO3 comments described above.

Maybe you think you’re helping. Like fair enough. But it’s not helpful. Please don’t do either. It freaks me out to a degree and adds pressure to something I am doing for fun and posting for fun. 

It’d be different re: the picking apart of actual pull quotes if this were a finished work fully posted but it’s not. Usually when I’ve posted a new chapter, I’ve been working on it up until literal seconds before it shows up in your inbox/bookmarks. Getting those sorts of comments or DMs within minutes of that sort of work is a fucking atrocity to my motivation and mental health because it’s the equivalent of getting the half-digested, chewed-up version of something I spent hours on spat back at me.

The answer isn’t continuing to do as I’ve done and tolerate and maybe unintentionally encourage it by responding and trying to nudge the conversation in a kinder direction (unfortunately). It’s not my job. :’)

I’m a sensitive person, it’s true, but I’m also published and no stranger to criticism…on a finished project that I’ve flung into the ether and have no immediate need to look at ever again if I don’t want to. I’m coming back to this every day, sometimes twice a day, and in the last couple of chapters’ worth of time, I’ve started to dread it. I’ll stop if I keep dreading it, so instead I’m writing a very uncomfortable A/N for the next chapter that I will now have to force myself through drafting. Or I’ll post this by itself. No idea.

I was going to just hide activity from users that this is happening with so only I had to deal with any fallout and didn’t create discomfort for the people causing me discomfort, but knowing what I’m like I’d find a way to read those sorts of things anyway. Honestly, I don’t even know who those comments are for—if they’re for me and meant to dissect what is essentially my ongoing draft in real-time, that’s kind of fucked; and if they’re meant to start a discussion with other readers, that’s cool and all but they come to my inbox and I read every single one.

No one’s called out. No one’s in trouble. Anything prior to this getting posted is off the board. That said, we can chill out and be lighthearted about the things we say from this point or the block button will become my new best friend bc I do want to keep writing this and I don’t have the emotional energy to afford space to people who make me uncomfortable. Especially after I've made my discomfort this (gestures vaguely) abundantly clear.

Anyway. This doesn't apply to the majority of people who have commented, so I also want to acknowledge and appreciate that amidst my boundary barf.

[bluehouryoongi]

BITE ME- 2: The Party

Pairing: Jake x Female Reader

Genre: Vampire Enhypen and Human Reader College Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU

Synopsis: Set in present-day Pacific Northwest US. Y/n in a college student, and keeps to herself. One day, she has strange encounters with two statuesque men, one of which invites her to a party (at their mansion ofc) where she drunkenly confesses that she can't pay her rent. Vast and highly believable events ensue, leading to her live with 7 a-little-too-perfect guys. That's all you need to know.

← Masterlist – Next→

When I walk in the door of my apartment I see that mail has been dropped off. On the top is an envelope that reads *URGENT RENT NOTICE* Shit. It’s due again already? There’s no way I have enough. With all of my classes, I barely have time to pick up shifts at the bookstore. I do as much as I can, but clearly it is not enough. I wouldn’t have this problem if I could have a few roommates…I haven’t been able to find any that would work, though. Everytime I meet up with someone, it is clear that their definition of sharing chores and keeping the apartment in order are VERY different from mine. Do I have a problem? maybe…slightly…I just like to keep things clean. When they are not clean I get panicked, and start sweating and breathing heavily. I know I should just suck it up and get roommates no matter what state they keep their rooms in. The alternative is having to go and live back at home…which is hours away. Not exactly a daily commute distance. I sigh heavily, because this is the last thing I need to be worrying about right now. The semester is ramping up, and my classes are keeping me extremely busy. I hardly have time to eat.

My mind shifts to the party I agreed to go to tomorrow. Now, I am considering that it’s not such a good idea. What was I thinking? I don’t have time to go to parties, I have papers to write! Something about Jake though… it draws me in. Sunoo, too. Even after the short interactions we had I am intrigued and want to know more. They have eyes that make me forget who I am, and what I was thinking. I shake away the thought. I will just reevaluate tomorrow. Right now, I have two papers due that require all of my attention.

Before that, though, I need to spill all of this to Gracie. She knows better than anyone that I rarely have information to gossip about boys. I pull up her contact and hit facetime. She answers immediately.

“Hiiii” She says

“Hi. So. Super weird day.”

“Oh? Tell me more. Did a goose chase you to your car again?”

She will never let me live that down. “No, actually. This has to do with the statues.”

“SPILL!” She practically yells

“Okay, okay… so I ran into Jake today. Like actually rammed into him because I wasn’t looking in front of me because of the rain. Then he gave me his umbrella. Before you ask, yes, he is perfect up close”

She squeals. I’m smiling, too, because this is the most excitement I have had all semester. “Then at work Sunoo comes in and just like, lounges up against the front desk. He doesn’t even look around the store, he just kinda…stared at me? I don’t know. Then he invited me to a party that’s happening at their house tomorrow, and for some reason I said I would go.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I know.”

“This is insane!!!! Wait, do you think he knows who you are? Do you think he planned to invite you specifically and that’s why he came into the store? What will you wear?!”

For the next hour we go over the interactions multiple times. If there's one thing we are gonna do, it’s overanalyze. I hang up the phone feeling winded from laughing so much. I am actually looking forward to tomorrow now, just thinking about relaying the entire experience back to her the next day. Once I have settled down I realize it is almost midnight and I need to get to homework.

I sit at my desk, put on my classical music playlist, and get to work. Hours later as I lay in bed, I think about my interactions with the two mysterious boys. Why can’t I shake the feeling that I want to know them more? –

I am looking at my closet and quickly realize I have nothing that works to go to this party. Judging by Sunoos clothes yesterday, which was (likely luxury) black straight leg pants, a tastefully oversized sweater, and a long jacket over the top, I can imagine his party outfit will be just as impressive. I try to remember what Jake was wearing and my memory falls short. I was so focused on the fact that he was actually in front of me that I did not take the time to assess his fashion choices. I smile to myself, thinking about the umbrella he gave me. Chivalry is not dead, I guess.

Okay, back to business. I rifle through my closet, and end up deciding to try and replicate what Sunoo wore. Is that weird? I mean, my version looks very different. I end up choosing a pair of straight leg black pants, a dark red corset-style top (something in me decided to buy it months ago and I have never had an opportunity to wear it out), and of course I throw on a chunky knit cardigan on top. Because I may be going to a party, but I am still me.

I opt to keep my hair as-is, mostly because I don’t know how to do anything else. It’s getting longer, probably the longest it's been since high school, hitting just past my shoulders. For makeup, I do a simple winged eyeliner, with lots of blush on my cheeks. Looking at my reflection, I think damn, okay. I did that.

I decide to just wear my sneakers, because I'm not like other girls.

In reality, it is just all I have and I doubt anyone will look at my feet at a party. I check the time, my phone reading 8:36pm. I take a deep breath, grab my purse, and head out the door.

The drive takes about 15 minutes; their house is a little out of the way. I don’t know what to expect as I turn onto a long driveway. I have heard people talk at school, saying that the boys live in a mansion or a castle. I never thought that would be literally true until it is right in front of me.

Wow. This place is massive. I don’t find myself around mansions…ever, actually so I can’t really judge. All I know is the expansive modern/minimalist house is very large, and very nice. Warm lighting spills from inside, and I can’t help but think about how inviting it looks. Something about the persona and reputation of the boys had me expecting it to look cold and dark, but I am quickly realizing I might be reading too many gothic novels.

I find a place to park and take a deep breath. This is WAY outside of my comfort zone. I don’t have many friends, which is how I like it. College people are a lot of work. My mom tells me I'm an old soul because I spend my weekends at a book club with women 50 years and older. It is just easier that way. There is no drama, no misunderstanding, and no unrealistic expectations.

Something about Sunoo made me want to do what he said. Not in a demanding sort of way, just in that something about our personalities just clicked. I think I might have a chance of making a friend my age after all.

–

I can hear the noise of lots of people inside. I am thoroughly intimidated, but I am already here so, fuck it. I open the front door- because I won’t be the person who knocks at a party. I have some sense. I walk in, squeezing past crowds of people. Loud music blares, although I don’t know from where. There must be speakers all throughout this house with how much it is projecting.

A makeshift dance floor has formed, with a few too many people grinding than I want to make eye contact with. As I try and make a beeline out of that area, I feel myself trip on someone's foot. Great. Before I can fully flail and make a fool of myself, I feel arms grab a hold of my wrists and steady me.

I look up and make eye contact with my savior. I am met with deeply brown eyes, long eyelashes, an absurdly chiseled jawline, and tastefully thick eyebrows.

“You okay?” I read his lips, but I can’t hear him over the loud music.

I nod my head in response, and realize I am just as much clutching to his wrists as he is mine. To be honest, I have no idea how much time passes as we stand there, holding wrists and looking into each other's eyes like we are in some romance movie.

Our contact is broken, but only for him to lightly grab hold of my shoulders and bring me closer to him. So close that I no longer can see his face and only feel his breathe on my ear as he says:

“That was definitely my foot you tripped on. I’m sorry.”

I shift so that it is my mouth almost touching his ear in order to respond by saying:

“It could have been anyone. We are packed like sardines in here and I wasn’t exactly paying attention to whose feet were where.” I smile, which I know he can feel because I can see goosebumps form on his porcelain neck.

I lean back, so we are facing each other again. This much eye contact would normally make me squirm, but I am surprisingly keeping my cool. Although I have never met him, I recognize as being one of the guys who lives here. There is perfection about him that can be only described as ethereal. Like a statue.

Okay. Let me not gawk at him.

I clear my throat and look around me. Trying to not make it obvious that I don’t know where to take this conversation.

When I look back at him, there is a ghost of a smile on his lips.

He leans in again, his scent invading my headspace. It's all woody and masculine, but not heavy on the cologne. I can’t help but swoon a little bit.

“I’m Sunghoon,” he says. “And you look like you could use a drink.”

“Yes.” I reply. “I’m y/n.”

The smile, or maybe I should say half smile, stays. I can��t help but notice it falters for just a half second, though.

He grabs a hold of my hand and starts leading me through the crowd before I can overthink that split change in expression. At least I don’t have to worry about tripping over anyone’s toes, the crowd parts for Sunghoon effortlessly. We approach a bar- yes an actual bar. In the house. Money never ceases to amaze me.

Manning the booth is a tall, dark haired, (almost equally to Sunghoon) chiseled individual. I notice there is more of a point to his face, and his expression stays hard. When Sunghoon approaches, he nods in silent recognition. His eyes shift to me, and there lies a question in his eyes. No doubt wondering who I am, and why I am glued to Sunghoon’s side. I am not intentionally staying so close, it just so happens that it's hard to keep a distance when there are so many people packed in a room. Not that I’m complaining. There’s a safety I can’t explain standing with him.

Sunghoon walks behind the bar like he owns the place. Which, I guess he kind of does.

They each have an energy about them that is so magnetizing I just can’t seem to pull away, nor do I want to. He looks over to me, grinning, and I melt. I am no better than the gossiping girls who fawn over the elusive statue boys. He hands me a reddish pink drink in a glass. I look around to the others around me. Everyone else is holding red solo cups, which is what I expected as well. But no, I have an ice- cold crystal glass in my hands. I almost hold it with both hands just to be cautious. I take a small sip to find a very strong vodka cranberry. I don’t drink often, so I know I will have to nurse this one drink all night in order to not regret all my choices.

Sunghoon rejoins me at my side, holding an identical glass. A comfortable silence surrounds the two of us as we stand on the outskirts of the thick crowd of partiers.

“y/n.” I can feel his breath on my ear, shivers running through my body.

“Hm?” I reply, turning to face him again.

“You’ve never come to our parties before.” It’s not a question.

“No, I haven’t. How did you know?”

“You are clearly not comfortable here. Plus I would have known.” He doesn’t elaborate just how he would have known.

“Hm.” I say again. Why do I keep humming? My mind is swimming with thoughts and completely blank simultaneously.

Just before he can say another word, I feel someone grab both my shoulders.

“You came!!” Sunoo. I take a relaxed breath.

“Hi!” I say and turn to face him.

He wraps me in a hug. I’m a little stiff, as I would not have expected this level of affection, however I lean into it. It’s nice.

“I didn’t think you would actually show. You look hot by the way. All the right choices.” I feel triumphant.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile. I don’t know when we became such good friends, but I am not mad about it. I haven’t felt this kind of friendship in…years.

“Do you dance?” he asks, “Please come dance”

How could I say no? With the twinkle in his eye, I could never.

“Sure, yeah, let's do it!”

I feel additionally much more open to the idea of dancing with Sunoo after that strong ass drink Sunghoon gave me. Why on earth wouldn’t I want to dance?

Kesha is blaring through the speakers, and I yell to Sunoo who has started to drag me out to the middle of the dancefloor, “This is my shit!!”

Was it? Who cares, I felt free, and you bet your ass I was about to jump around to “blow” by Kesha.

Before I can think deeply of it, I look back to Sunghoon. He is leaning against the wall, watching. His glass is empty now, that same light grin on his lips. His lips. They look so good. Should I tell him? I definitely drank too much of my Vodka cranberry in an effort to do something with myself while just standing there next to Sunghoon. It was the party equivalent to twiddling my thumbs.

Before I could finish that thought about whether or not I should tell Sunghoon just how good he looks (which I definitely should not), Sunoo and I are jumping around on the dance floor. I don’t know what comes over me, and yet I am moving my body in ways I never have before.

I feel Sunoo’s body tight next to mine, jumping and shaking and laughing. I haven’t had this much fun…ever.

We are holding hands, singing in each other's faces, and thoroughly getting into it. When I can feel my hair sticking to my face from sweat, I know it's time I find some water.

I mouth “water!” to Sunoo, who nods in agreement and takes my hand. We walk back to the bar, laughing and singing the current song. The guy behind the bar, (was he this handsome before, or did he get handsome-er?) shakes his head, clearly this not being the first time he’s seen Sunoo like this.

“Water please, Jay!!” Sunoo yells. Jay. So that’s his name. “Make it ICY!”

Jay hands us our waters, this time in red cups, and adds “ICE water, your majesty” and adds in a little bow, clearly joking. So he’s funny. I like him.

Right now, I like everything. Why don’t I drink more often?

Sunoo leads me to a quiet corner. I think it's a separate room, or maybe a hallway. I don’t know. Things are fuzzy.

I sink to the floor, to which Sunoo follows suit.

“Your house…is massive.” I say. No shit.

He laughs. “Yeah. Too big for its own good.”

I just smile. “I'm jealous” I say, getting far too close to his face.

He looks at me, more serious this time. “Where are you living, anyway?”

“Hmm…like 15 minutes from here? Close to campus. It’s a tiny apartment. Not for long, though”

“You’re moving?” I think I see a look of concern on his face, but it’s gone faster than it came.

“Maybe? I might be forced to. I got another letter today telling me to pay my rent, in Big. Bold. Letters.” Why am I saying all this? Why can’t I stop? Oh god, I am going to say more. “The problem is…I don’t have the money” I’m slurring some of my words.

“You can’t pay your rent?” Now he definitely sounds concerned.

Oh no, I can’t have him feeling bad for me. Not when we just met and now I am trauma dumping on him.

“Well, no, not technically. I just need to get some roommates? The problem is… I can’t find…any…they are all so dirty and so much drama. I can’t do it. I would rather move back home.”

“Where is home?” He asks, so gently.

“About…6 hours away? Give or take?” I don’t know how I would be able to stay in school if I had to move back home. My dream has always been to come to college, and I can feel it slipping away. My eyes start to pool.

I cannot cry to Sunoo right now. Before I can get up and pretend this conversation ever happened, he says, “We have lots of extra rooms.”

I’m confused. Is he just saying that to flaunt how big their house is? He doesn’t seem like the type, but I don’t know him, not really. I don’t say anything.

“I could talk to the boys.” He says, as if this clarifies anything.

Because I am drunk, and filter be damned, I reply, “I’m sorry…what? What are you saying?”

He chuckles. “You could stay in one of our rooms. We have plenty, many more than we could ever need. I’ll talk to the boys.”

This is insane. “No…no, I could never ask you to do that. I hope you don’t think I- I didn’t say all that just for you to offer…i’m fine.” my response comes out choppy and I am moving my hands around far too much, but I can’t help it. I could never accept something like this. Especially not from him, who I literally just met.

“Shhhh. I’m not saying they will say yes. I’m just saying I'll ask them. Okay?”

And because I literally cannot say no to this man (seriously is he magic or something?) I just nod slowly, and then weakly say ���okay.”

He smiles, satisfied, and stands up. Clearly he has not drunk as much as me, or just has a higher tolerance. I, however, get up slowly using the wall the whole way up to stabilize. My head is spinning. It’s about time I call it a night. I follow Sunoo back into the party chaos.

“I think…I need to go home.” I tell him.

“Okay, did you drive here? You definitely cannot drive home.” Shit. I forgot.

“Um…yeah I did. Maybe I could Uber?” I should never have drank. I’m supposed to be saving money, not spending it on an Uber ride home from a party. I needed to loosen up, though, and I somehow can’t feel bad for all the fun I had tonight.

“Wait here…I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the crowd. How does he move so quickly? I swear he just disappeared in front of my eyes. Wow, I’m a lightweight. Noted.

I lean up against the wall, just watching the crowd. I have no idea where Sunoo went off to, but I don’t have it in me to think deeply about it. I lightly shut my eyes when I feel the presence of someone right in front of me. Sunoo’s back, and he brought someone.

“You know Jake, right?” He asks me. This wakes me right up, and I straighten up and clear my throat. I think I even attempt to fix my hair.

“Um…yeah. I think…I’ve met him before…” Or literally yesterday. Or took a class with him last semester. Or have seen him around and watched him from afar a few too many times. None of these things I say.

“Hi,” he says, doing a little wave. Wow, he's cute.

“Hi” I say, and smile lightly.

“Jake is going to drive you home. Okay? He hasn’t drank tonight. I was going to ask Hoon but he’s already four drinks deep.” Is Sunoo my guardian angel or something? He’s being so kind, and I don’t know why. I appreciate it, but it's unexpected with the cold exterior all of the statue boys have. It’s a nice surprise.

“Oh…that’s okay! I can just order an Uber or something! Really, don’t worry about it.” I reply.

“I don’t mind.” Jake replies. He doesn’t sound annoyed, which is good. I don’t have the energy to argue any more about it, so I reply,

“Thank you, really. I’ll repay you somehow” I’m not sure how, but surely there’s something I can do for him.

He just grins and turns, expecting me to follow, which I do. We weave through bodies to go into another unknown hallway. The sounds of the party are distant now, but we still don’t say anything. He opens a door, leading to a garage. We are met with a long row of cars, all of which look brand new and expensive. Jake walks over to a small black Porsche and opens the passenger side door, gesturing for me to get in, which I do.

“Thanks.” I say. The car smells amazing. I can’t quite place it but it's my kryptonite…clean. It sounds weird, but something being clean is quite possibly the best thing ever to me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in. Jake gets into the driver's seat. I try not to stare but…he’s wearing a black t-shirt, and it fits in all the right places. He isn’t exactly bulky, but it's clear he is strong. Veins gently protrude from his arm, running down to his hands. Okay, I’m definitely staring. The man is beautiful, with skin that looks like glass. How is that even possible?

I look up to his face, where he is staring at me. He noticed me checking him out. Yikes, I will lie awake thinking about that fact later. He doesn’t look disgusted, though. He actually looks almost…amused? I’m reminded by the fact that he is ogled by every other girl at the University. This is not a rare occurrence for him, and he probably expects no less.

I look away, suddenly finding my hands very interesting. He turns on the car, and looks behind him as he backs the car out of the garage. Thank god for the radio, which breaks the silence. As we settle into the drive, I try to focus on the music rather than the very beautiful and large man next to me.

He clears his throat. “Uh, what’s your address?” he asks. Oh right, of course he wouldn’t just know where I live. I tell him, and he nods his head like he knows where he’s going. He doesn’t plug it into maps. Confident.

“Are you taking any other literature courses this semester?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“What?” Oh my god, does he not remember that we took a class together?

It’s okay, it’s fine. Let’s be confident. No going back, now. “We took the same Romanticism Literature class last semester. You might not have seen me… I only talked a few times…” Or every class. I was one of those people who would raise my hand when no one else would, which just happened to be just about every class. Other than when Jake chimed in.

“Oh yeah, I remember you. No actually, I’m not taking any literature courses. I wanted to, it just didn’t really fit with my schedule.”

“I hate when that happens” I reply.

“What about you?” He asks

“Oh, yeah I am taking a few. I am an English Lit major so it’s kind of required”

He chuckles lightly at this, which makes me feel like I won the lottery. I steal a look over to him to see if I can catch a glimpse of his smile. It’s gone before I could, back to the ever-stoic Jake.

We fall into another silence, though this time much more comfortable. Before I know it, we pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex. It just now occurs to me that we simply left my car back at their house.

“Thank you so much, really. I appreciate it a lot. I don’t drink much, so I guess I didn’t realize I’m that much of a lightweight.”

He shakes his head, “no problem, glad you got home safe.”

“Should I…come pick up my car tomorrow?” This is awkward.

“Will you be on campus tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, I was planning on being in the library for a while, why?”

“I can just meet you on campus and drive you back to my place. From there you can take your car.” Wow, how are they all so generous?

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much, I’m sorry to put so much trouble on you”

He looks right into my eyes, and I would lie if I pretended my heart didn’t squeeze at his brown eyes. “It's no trouble. I'll find you tomorrow.”

“Great.” I reply. I unbuckle and start to get out of the car, but he grabs my wrist. I turn to face him again, but he says first;

“Drink some water, and take some medicine. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” His eyes are so kind, I could look into them forever. I almost just do, but then I remember this is reality and not my dream world. So I just smile, tight-lipped, and get out of the car.

The cool air is a nice change, as I notice how warm my cheeks got in Jake’s presence. It might be the alcohol, right?

[inkher0]

I was going to say something about Nathan before, but I thought I was overanalyzing! You did actually include the relationship he has with Jason and Puppeteer! Ooohhh I have so many thoughts about this... The idea of all these people being forced to be friends, only for their masters to completely undo it and force them to fight again... It's so cruel, but it's so... I can't even describe it? It feels like The Tall Ones just play with them like dolls, making up new games to entertain themselves over and over. But at the same time, that's all they CAN see these tiny little creatures as. Like theres so much to think about. (I really love that you're taking Origin so seriously, btw. I tell my friends I'm really into this queer leftist horror story and they all think I'm cultured lol)

Yeah truth be told, that bit with Jason and Nathan wasn't initially in my plan, but it became that way the more I interacted with Ivy and some other creators. I'm a very shy person to actually talk to, and it takes a while for me to go from "you're a stranger" to " you're a friend". It's A Flaw to me because people sometimes assume we're closer than we actually are and they tell me things I didn't want to know. iykyk

I didn't want to just force myself into an established friend group, which is what it seemed like the Content Creators in this space were. Also my age is kind of something I'm nervous about. I'm going to be 29 this year, which makes me almost ten years younger than most of them, and I really worry about it ;;;;;;;

However!! They've all been very sweet and friendly with me, and I'm starting to be more willing to engage with other creators. I feel very welcome in the new Creepypasta space, and that's really compelled me to stay.

Unfortunately, now I have to cope with seeing my posts +5 times because everyone reblogs from me. xD Millenials call that a First World Problem, i think

[inkedkoi]

Connections: Part Two

Continuation of "Hold On To “What If”: Overanalyzing and Rewriting Sonic Prime" essay

[Once Again, spoilers for Sonic Prime, all media here belong to their respective creators.]

✨//🌻//✨

Transcript:

Sonic: "Nine, you came!" Nine: "When this is over, I'm going home and never looking back. Whether I go it alone is entirely up to you."

[S1 EP6]

The hesitation from earlier ultimately changed Nine's final decision. He risked himself coming back, just for Sonic.

💬 Why?

Because Sonic saved him once before, gave him hope & motivation to start a new life. The risk was worth it, for their newfound friendship. As much as Nine tries to deny it, he's truly warming up to Sonic. Even if he is letting Sonic make his own choice, Nine was hoping he would at least consider it.

He, unfortunately, got captured by the Council, and while it was the last position he wanted to be in, he worked the inside. Not only to gather more information but to protect Sonic if they ever threaten to hurt him. Is he risking his life? Yes, but he's willing to do it for Sonic. He knows well enough that Sonic would come back for him but he also needs to stall the Council enough to not go after him.

Transcript:

Nine: "...we need [Sonic] alive."

[S1 EP8]

[S1 EP7]

Meanwhile, after the battle with the Council, Sonic tried to look for Nine, worried that he might've gone to the Grim by himself. Except he accidentally teleported to another world before he knew what happened to Nine.

Transcript:

Sonic: "I better find him before he portals out of here again."

[S1 EP7]

Speaking of other worlds, Nine isn't the only one Sonic confuses for the OG cast. When he first arrived in Boscage Maze and met Thorn, he believed that somewhere deep within Thorn, Amy was there. He technically already has with the New Yoke look-alike, Rusty, commenting how she suddenly became so "heartless". But then sees Thorn with much hostility.

Transcript:

Sonic: "Amy has to be in there."

[S1 EP5]

Then, when he first visited No Place, he mistakes Dread for the OG Knuckles.

Transcript:

Sonic: "The Dread is... Knuckles?" [...] Sonic: "Definitely not the Knuckles I know." [...] Sonic: "You're officially my favorite Knuckles ever."

[S1 EP7]

It’s not Knuckles, it’s Dread. Sure, he may have the same trait as Knuckles (guarding a gem they vow to protect), but Dread is the one who manipulates anyone who dares to get in his way and becomes a selfish coward, all for the Shard. Knuckles protects the Master Emerald because it is his responsibility, as the one last Echidna, the last one of his tribe. He doesn’t have a choice, but he isn’t against it either. (Don’t want to bring in the game material into this but...) in frontiers, he does feel a bit of loss of what happened to his people, and perhaps in the scenario where the Master Emerald has been taken, he would lose the only thing that was deeply connected to his tribe. The other artifacts on Angel Island would be there, but the Emerald is the one thing of value worth protecting.

[S2 EP1]

I could go on and on, but the point is that Sonic is confusing the look-alikes for their OG counterparts. The one who knew the truth was Shadow. When Sonic suggested to Shadow that they could bring in Nine to help rebuild the Prism, Shadow denied it. Reasonably, Shadow couldn't be along with Sonic, entering the gateways like he does. All he did manage to get were glimpses. I'll talk about it more later on about his side of things but Shadow already understood that these look-alikes were practically strangers and shouldn't assume how they would act. Therefore, they shouldn't blindly trust them.

Transcript:

Shadow: "[Nine] can't be trusted." Sonic: "What are you talking about? Of course he can. He's just like Tails... He's just a little angsty, that's all." Shadow: "No. He's not Tails, he's Nine. And they're not your real friends." Sonic: "Dude, he's real. This is his reality."

[S2 EP1]

When Shadow meant "not your real friends", he didn't exactly mean that they aren't real. From his POV, the only "look-alikes" he encountered himself were the ghosts of the OG casts, mere illusions really. He may not know how the look-alikes from the other worlds were, but what he does know that none of them were OG cast. Again, they can't trust them. Sonic took it the wrong way, defending NIne on his behalf. While it is caring, he should've took it as a warning.

Transcript:

Shadow: "I don't think [Nine] wants the same thing we do."

[S2 EP7]

[S2 EP6]

Just as it happened, Nine showed he was capable in handing on his own, he only needed to work from the inside. Sonic did his part in retrieving the Shards and rescuing Nine on the way. When they reunited, Nine apologized to Sonic for accidentally giving the idea to the Council to create Chaos Sonic, then Sonic forgiving him right away. The heartbreaking part about all this was that Nine, being vulnerable once again, was afraid to lose the bond they had. He really did care for him.

Sonic forgave him, he understood the Council used him. But he's also going off the basis that "Nine = clone of Tails", Nine would never do such a thing, the two foxes are both innocent after all. That's why Sonic defend Nine multiple times, whenever anyone dared to call Nine a threat or a traitor. He may see Nine, yes, but it's kind of hard not to compare to someone that appears almost identical to Tails.

Transcript:

Sonic: "Only a true friend could pull off a save like that." Nine: "Friend? We're friends? Sonic: "You bet we are!"

[S2 EP6]

[S2 EP7]

When he finally met this supposed "Tails", he could see how they are similar in appearance, but he ultimately says,

Transcript:

Nine: "This is the friend Sonic thought was like me? We're nothing alike."

[S2 EP7]

But they were, at least on one thing: they both got attached to Sonic.

[S2 EP8]

We all know what happens next: after the battle in Ghost Hill with the Council, both Nine and Sonic finally realized that they weren't on the same page.

Nine was betrayed. As a young fox, he tried to protect himself in a hostile environment, physically and emotionally, hiding himself from the world. He didn't attempt to make a personal connection with anyone because he believed that they would respond coldly. So he became independent. That was until Sonic arrived. He warmed up to him, allowing himself to be vulnerable around him. He cared, and was willing to risk it for the sake of their friendship. Because it was worth it. Then, to learn that Sonic never saw him as Nine, he realized that he let himself get hurt. How a fool he was. (Notice the metal tails.)

Sonic was also betrayed. The assumption he made since the end of EP1 was wrong. He didn't listen to what Shadow have warned of, he didn't understand that Nine was his own individual. He simply went with the basis of what he knew, to fix the mistake he made. Desperate to go back to his friends, his home. He was too blind to notice that Nine wasn't like Tails, to take the time to see the outcome of his own decisions. How he completely trusted Nine without hestitation. It's not to say he didn't care for Nine, he did, but he didn't notice. He assumed, which came to a cost. Once again, by his own fault, Nine got hurt and took the Shards for himself. He was this close to fixing everything and by his own fault, he lost it all again.

[I would like to state that these were my interpretations. If I misunderstood something, that's my bad. But I did want to put my thoughts here because I've hated how after S2 ended, some people kept saying that "Nine became a villain out of nowhere" or "Nine was just using Sonic for his own gain" or "Sonic didn't care and got what he deserved". The two made their own mistakes due to miscommunication and the lack of listening for both parties. Again, this is my opinion.]

To be continued...

Previous Part || Next Part || Masterpost

[finniestoncrane]

Hello! This feels like a rather peculiar and selfish way to let someone get to know me a bit, but might I request no. 9, please? My current biases are in favor of Riddler and Scarecrow.

I'm laughably short (4'8" lol) but I make up for it in ardor, when I'm comfortable around someone. I'm a bit chubby and generally regarded as cute and looking much younger than I am. I have shoulder length light brown hair and wear black cat's eye shaped eyeglasses. Especially in the colder months here, I tend to have a bit of a "haunted librarian" motif to my wardrobe, i.e. cardigans and sweaters in black and darker colors and my batty spectacle chain. Otherwise, it's mostly jeans or sweatpants and a geeky or horror themed t-shirt. Favorite colors are green, purple, and black.

Outwardly, I project a friendly personality when needed as a result of being a people pleaser, but I try to shrink away from strangers whenever possible. I'm not nearly as naive or trusting as I seem. In relationships, I can be a bit avoidant and emotionally distant, but I do show I care through acts of service and attempts at quality time. I'm a fan of parallel play, content to read or do my own thing while in pleasant company. I have a dry, sarcastic sense of humor for the most part but can be goofy from time to time. I think I'm equal parts spooky and nerd, and my interests include books, music, art, video games, dead things, all things horror, and anything I can pick apart and analyze and overanalyze. I flunked out of college for computer science and programming, but I think I want to go back and study mortuary science. I took the Myers-Briggs test and got INTJ but I think I may be INTP, if any of that helps? I tend to think very logically and separate fact from emotion, although I can get very emotional over my need to stick to the facts. I have a strong sense of justice but a gray moral code. (Obviously I tend to sympathize/empathize with villains more than heroes. Right vs. wrong is more important than written law. Rules sometimes are very much made to be broken.)

Apologies as I know this was a lot to read through, but I try to be a thorough person. 😅

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: not peculiar or selfish at all!! for you, a gift of the most creative little green bean 💚 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

right, so someone short and adorable would be ideal for him, since he gives off short king vibes and is also himself an absolute cutie

i also just know that the only kind of partner miss tuesday would approve of (since you'll be co-parenting her essentially) would be a kinda gothy/alt type person with clothes she could borrow

so cardigans and spooky things? ideal. but then you're also playing into eddie's preference for a sweet little nerd

and purple compliments green so well!

ok so eddie shrinks away when he's not going all out as the riddler, which is usually when he's at his most outgoing. someone with the capability of appearing to be naive and trusting would be so advantageous to a criminal like him, you can both be outwardly one thing and inwardly the other, like secret identities only you two know about

i think he would be quite happy to have someone who wasn't full on or co-dependent in a relationship. he seems like he would have a tendency to isolate himself in his work, so wouldn't feel comfortable with someone who needed to be around him constantly. but parallel play is 100% one of his favourite things, where he can do his work and you can enjoy yourself, and bond silently with each other

god the dry humour, the sarcasm, the absolute silliness of it all, this is literally just him all over. and we're gonna go spooky and nerdy? the man is a total geek who is also a criminal. soul mates

it's difficult, because eddie would 100% be in support of you picking up computer science again. it's one of his beloved skills and hobbies. miss tuesday on the other hand would encourage you to follow mortuary science. so spooky, so creepy. she'd love it

logical is eddie to a t. and yeah, he can sometimes forget that emotions need to come into play, so if you're there to remind him of that, even better

and what is a riddler without a sense of moral justice? creating havoc is fun, sure, but they're all down to embarass the bat and show their own moral judgements on gotham and it's citizens

[zazuharrington]

sitting here fearing for my life that mike will be one to die in season 5.

this boy has escaped death and injury too many times to be safe for the last season.

i may be grasping at straws here, there were several possible foreshadowing references in season 4 that hinted at this possibility. and we know the suffer brothers tend to be very deliberate about placement of things like this.

first of all, when nancy was talking to the others about what vecna showed her, she said "and he showed me my mom...and holly...mike. they were all...". this feels like a mega foreshadowing line to me, because nancy said he showed her things that haven't happened yet. he showed her the gates opening, and that did happen. and he showed her, presumably, her family dying. including mike.

second of all, when el was taken to nevada to work with brenner, he talked to her about the opera titled nina. he says it's the story of a woman whose lover was killed in a duel (a fight). but she represses the trauma of it happening, and continues to wait at the train station every day for his return. he proceeds to imply that el, in this scenario, is nina. we all know that el's lover is mike.

my third piece of pitiful evidence (i am definitely grasping at straws with this one but then again knowing the suffers we need to over-analyze everything) is when argyle referred to mike as romeo. in the season 4 finale, he dropped the pizza in front of them and said "surf's up, romeo". we all know the story of romeo and juliet, and how they both die for their love for each other.

of course, mike wheeler is my special boy and i can only hope for his survival and happy ending, but given what he's been through and how much he has managed to avoid, i am fearful as hell for his life.

my insanity and stranger things withdrawal is definitely leading me to overanalyze (or am i?)

[embrcssemoi]

Despite knowing how nice Ellie's descriptions of him tended to be, he couldn't help but agreeing with Duri. Normally, upon talking about a New York best-selling author, people tended to imagine someone obnoxiously full of themselves (not that Henry couldn't be that sometimes... his father's arrogance still ran through his veins when among his peers). Still, he smiled. Smiling came easy to him as it helped easing people's thoughts. It tended to lower their walls around him. And then, came the 'playing dumb' kind of deal to him. It wasn't a mask he wore, per se. Henry really could be this innocent, goofy guy, but he also had a sharp mind sometimes. "So you like me, huh?" She had never once said that, but he liked joking around with the topic. Cocky, yes. But in the playful way that tended to make women laugh and drop their underwear to the ground around him. "See... the thing is that, now you know I'm Henry Huang, but I haven't gotten a name yet and I don't think it's fair of you to keep withholding information like that."

Her next words, however, almost kicked the smile out of his face. While Henry didn't make a job to overanalyze people, it did seem surprising how quickly Duri jumped to defend herself the way she had. Had someone judged her for being like that? With walls seemingly as tall as the skies? "See... the thing is... I never said you were miserable... let alone, called you a bitch. But... people can still hurt you no matter how long you've known them." His father was the true example of that. Over a silly, meaningless affair, he'd lost a wife and three kids in the process. It still stung to think about it. "Just like companionship can come when you least expect it and show you great things, you know? It'll happen if you let it."

Not a girl. It was nice to be taught things... like breaking stereotypes and all. He wouldn't have pegged her for someone who was non-binary simply due to how she presented herself, but, luckily he was there to be proven wrong. "You're not exactly a stranger, anymore, though. But I'll beware of you, Duri." He winked at the brunette behind the counter, before offering her a smirk again. "Should I use different pronouns with you though? I'm not one to keep repeating past mistakes, you know?" Because yes, while he was silly and goofy, Henry was also polite and respectful. "As for the signed copy, that depends... can I use it as bribery to take you out for drinks?" / @folliesofmiceandmen

"Ellie talked about you a lot." Duri offered that with nothing further for a moment, eyes wandering the face of Henry Huang for a long time before settling on the laugh line on his face, just beside his mouth, that cut a swath across smooth skin almost like a river. He smiled a lot. There was nothing necessarily wrong with that, she reasoned, but there was something about seeing it on a person's face that struck her. She wondered if her own face painted her out to be a miserable shrew who never laughed or smiled if she could help it. Not that she was that, she laughed, she smiled, she knew how to enjoy herself quite a bit, but she was guarded, knowingly so, and knew that didn't paint a good picture at first. "Hearing about a hot shot New York best selling author, no matter how nice a picture his sister paints of him, leaves one in the mindset of a cocky, arrogant prick with his head up his own ass. You are... not that. Surprisingly."

For a moment, she looked away from him, off to the other side of the shop, just for a change of scenery. Her teeth curled around her bottom lip and she chewed for a moment. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say to him, if anything at all. "I certainly don't like having to rely on anything or anyone else, if that's what you mean by detached. I'm not some miserable, frigid bitch who shuts absolutely everyone out and refuses to admit that I have friends. I do have friends. I just like to make sure that I don't pile all of my eggs into baskets before I know how strong the baskets are. People hurt you when you trust too quickly."

Finally, a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and she stretched for a moment before standing up from the chair and leaning on the counter careful not to invade too much of his personal space. "Not a girl. The concept of the gender binary is a stupid one, and boxes people in to preset notions and conceptions. I am simply a person, a stranger, and definitely not a silly one. And you, Mr. Henry Huang, should always be afraid of strangers." That smirk lingered for a moment. "If I get a copy of that book of yours in here, will you sign it for me?"

[emrauta]

a historically bad second impression

I was mean to a stranger at the climbing gym. On accident, I swear.

It was last week. Or maybe two weeks ago now, I’m not sure— since moving to New York, the days blend together so much that it’s hard for me to have any sort of grip on a sense of time. Regardless of the timeline, it’s been eating away at me.

I had seen her once or twice before. Once, definitely, in the sauna. The sauna was packed that night— it’s usually packed at night. Too crowded. Shoulders touching sweaty shoulders, never quite getting hot enough because of the constant turnover. 

Every seat was taken the first time I met her, so I stood with my book, trying to ignore the chatter and focus on the words on the page. She was in front of me, in a red bikini, stretching. In the sauna. A crowded sauna. You have to respect that. 

I don’t think I said anything to her that night.

The next time I saw her, she came up to me with one of her friends. Some guy. He never introduced himself to me, but I didn’t really care because she introduced herself. She said, “Hi, I’m…” And I said, “Hi, I’m Peter. I feel like I’ve seen you before; climbing?” It was a safe bet. She shook her head. “Sauna.” That’s right. It all came rushing back to me— the girl who stretched.

I made small talk with her while her friend climbed. When she turned away, I tried to impress her by getting my kindle out and pretending to be much more immersed in my book than I actually was. I wanted her to ask what I was reading.

If one of my friends was there, they would’ve sworn I was flirting with her. Maybe I was, I’m not sure— who’s to say what’s flirting and what’s not. It’s too large of a thing to properly hammer down and define. But if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t think I was flirting with her. Not really. 

It’s hard for me to write this— I feel too vulnerable, and exposed— but I think I just crave acceptance. And beyond that, love. Admiration. People liking me. Specifically, women liking me, and not even in a romantic way, but purely in a validation-of-self sort of way. I’m not sure what that is, other than dollar signs in a therapist’s eyes. Don’t get me wrong— I like it when guys like me too. Especially when you meet some cool dude and hit it off and suddenly you feel like you’re cool too. But it’s different with women; for me, at least.

I wasn’t flirting with her, just trying to get her to like me. And it didn’t work. I kept trying to make jokes— sarcastic jokes, to be sure, but jokes that normally would’ve landed with my friends. Or maybe landed is too strong of a word, but my friends would’ve known I was joking. They would’ve rolled their eyes, or shook their heads; “That’s just Peter’s sense of humor.” 

I don’t think she sensed I was joking. I started panicking. Overanalyzing everything I was saying and doing, immediately after saying or doing it. Why did I say that? Why did I do that?

It was miserable.

After perhaps the worst second impression I’ve ever made, I retreated to my belongings, crammed in a small cubby at the end of an otherwise empty hallway. She was standing on the other side of a glass door, talking to her friend, and I wished she would come inside, by herself, so I could apologize. I could laugh it off, saying I’m awkward meeting new people, and then ask for her number in an innocuous way, saying I need more friends to climb with and we should totally climb someday.

She opened the door and walked in by herself, leaving her friend on the other side of the glass wall. Just us. My prayer answered.

And I shook my head at her. I don’t know why I did that, but I did. I started panicking again. My intent was to shake my head in a I can’t believe I was so awkward tonight, look at us, this was such a weird series of interactions on my end. I don’t think it came off like that.

“What?” She seemed hurt, and a little upset. It definitely did not come off like I intended.

I stammered. For once in my life, I was at a true loss of words. “No, nothing—” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

She went to fill up her water bottle, avoiding eye contact with me.

I gulped. I tried to say goodbye, or apologize, or say anything at all, but I couldn’t do it, so instead I put my head down and quickly walked away.

•

I’ve seen her a couple times at the gym since. Always with friends, usually new friends. Sometimes lifting, sometimes climbing. Always smiling, always happy. 

I feel envious of her social life. I have no one to climb with. Not really. I’ve tried, but I find myself more socially anxious than the person I think I am. In my head, I’m cool, hot, approachable, funny, easy to talk to. When I think of myself, everybody wants to be my friend.

In real life, not so much. 

I’d like to apologize to her. I keep meaning to, but I can never seem to find the right moment to do so. I feel like it would be awkward to go up to her when she’s with her friends; I don’t want it to be a whole thing, I want to move on. More than anything, I want to be part of her friend group, to have people to climb with, to have people who want to climb with me; I want acceptance. 

[inkedkoi]

Connections: Part One

Continuation of "Hold On To “What If”: Overanalyzing and Rewriting Sonic Prime" essay

[Once Again, spoilers for Sonic Prime, all media here belong to their respective creators.]

✨//🌻//✨

Looking at the series as a whole made me theorize about possible connections between characters and how it all came back from EP 1.

Sonic's Old Friends vs. Nine's "Look-Alikes" Argument

(Most of this was written before S3 premiered and edited due to seeing it after)

I’ve seen people referring to each of the Shatterspace characters as a personality variant or clone of Sonic’s friends. In the show, it was Sonic who made that same mistake. To be clear, they aren't. They do admittedly look similar in appearance but they are completely different characters by their morals, backstories, and personalities — “look-alikes” as I call them.

💬 "But some of the characters share the same names..."

Well, think about it: people in real life could share the same surname, and full name if by chance. But it doesn't necessarily mean that they are related or are the same person entirely. Or think about identical twins/triplets/etc, just because they look around the same, doesn't mean they have the same personality or habits. Sure, they might share a couple of things but they are their own person in their own right.

Comparing the "look-alikes" to the OG cast strips them of their individuality, the same argument that Nine in the S2 finale. Some people believed that Nine's betrayal came out of nowhere, and I'm here to clarify it. Let's start from the beginning:

[S1 EP1]

After Sonic saves Nine, he attempts to explain their backstory, assuming that Nine is Tails. Nine tells him on the contrary, growing up in a cold environment.

Confused by the situation, Sonic says:

Transcript:

Sonic: “You are Tails, but you’re not. Here, but gone?”

At this moment, Sonic was starting to wonder whether or not Nine was Tails.

That was until Nine asked,

Transcript:

Nine: “So… so what else did we do?”

The use of “we” was interpreted differently for Nine and Sonic. Nine used “we” to say, “If I wasn’t bullied from where you came from, what was the life I didn’t get to have?”

Sonic heard “we” and believed that somewhere within Nine is Tails.

One, that brings some comfort for Sonic who just lost his friends, and two, deep down, he wanted Nine to be Tails. It wasn’t to replace Tails or anything, but he wanted his best friend back, the one who was always like a brother to him.

Transcript:

Sonic: "Well, first of all, you have the coolest plane."

Instead of saying,

“The Tails I knew had the coolest plane" or

"A version of you from my world had the coolest plane” or

"There's a friend of mine who kinda looks like you/reminds me of you, and he had the coolest plane"

He went with "you". This is the first instance Sonic mistakes Nine for Tails. It could be Sonic not getting used to New Yoke City’s "look-alike" of Tails or believing that Nine must've "lost his memory" or not understanding the concept of multiverse, but it could also be what he subconsciously wanted, Nine to be Tails. Again, it wasn't his intention to hurt anyone.

Meanwhile, Nine was surprised with the revelation. This complete stranger, who claims to know him, was telling stories about these supposed adventures they had together. It sounded insane, but the same stranger was the one who saved his life. He grew up in this cruel environment, forced to fend for himself, and this was the first time someone cared for him. He doesn't completely let his guard down, he just met this guy a couple minutes ago. But hearing about these adventures, intrigued him.

After this interaction, everything began to change. As much as Nine keeps his guard up, he does open up when Sonic is being genuine with him, just Sonic being himself. Nine isn't used to this, having to build a spiky exterior to protect himself emotionally and physically, but seeing that Sonic isn't a threat, he allows the hedgehog to hang around. Notice how during their interactions whenever Nine is around Sonic, his robotic tails stay idly instead of being on guard.

Transcript:

Sonic: "I, uh like them, by the way." Nine: "Those ratty old sneakers? Obviously." Sonic: "No, I mean, I always thought your extra tail was cool, but the metal ones? Man, you're amazing." Nine: "Uh, sure. One last touch..."

Again, Nine isn't letting his guard, at least not completely, but hanging out with Sonic was a(n arguably nice) change of pace for him.

Now, let's switch back to Sonic's POV, based on their interactions. For our sake, I'm not gonna put every single screenshot so we'll stick to certain lines:

After Nine gave Sonic the tech to stabilize his Prism energy:

Sonic: "Thanks, Tails. I mean, Nine. Time for a test drive."

When Nine warns Sonic about the Council and advises him to keep a low profile:

Sonic: “When you get your memory back, you'll remember that low profile isn't my thing.”

When the Council decided to perform tests on Sonic, and Sonic attempted to refuse, only to stay for Nine's safety:

Rusty: "Do not fight them. It will only end badly for him." [...] Sonic: "Okay, Let's start the test... The sooner we do this, the sooner we do this, the sooner Nine and I can get out of here."

[S1 EP1]

All of this within the first episode, it shows several things about Sonic. Now it can be argued that, yeah,

💬 "Sonic is just not used to distinguishing Nine from Tails, being he just got there and the two are very alike. Plus, he didn't know about the whole Shatterverse concept yet until later on in S1."

However, we should still consider his first impression of Nine because, without it, we wouldn't understand his way of thinking later on. In episode one, Sonic believed that he was transported into a timeline in the same world where Eggman won and met "Tails" who somehow must've lost his memory. As if Sonic was taken from the supposed equation. Still, he wants to set things right and perhaps try to help "Tails" return back to normal. Even if "Tails" grew up with a whole different life and name, Sonic wanted to try.

It wasn't until the end of the episode, that he learned the truth: this wasn't a different timeline, this was a whole new universe. A new world, one he accidentally caused. By then, he's beginning to understand the multiverse stuff, but he can't move on to the exception that "Tails=Nine". Well now, instead he believes that "Nine=a clone of Tails", believing that the two are identical in personality and intelligence. As Sonic told Shadow later on, Nine may be angsty and have a few changes in appearance but he is just like Tails. As such, he still treats Nine as if it was Tails.

Neither of the two is at fault here, they are simply interpreting what is happening to them based on assumptions. As Nine once said, all of it was still a mystery for the two of them.

[S1 EP6]

Transcript:

Nine: "Welcome to our bright new future."

[S1 EP6]

Deep down, they wanted a home, for two very different reasons. If they were at fault for anything, it's them not taking the time to communicate this calmly.

I've heard several people say:

💬 "Nine didn't care about Sonic and is just using him for his own purpose."

That is not true at all. Look at this scene in EP6:

Transcript:

Nine: "The perfect place to start over and get the world right. With the proper fortifications and enough Shard Energy, it could be home. The one you lost. The one I never had. I can make that hope a reality for the both of us."

Why on Earth would Nine want to include Sonic in his plans for the Grim? This is the most vulnerable he has ever been, his tails off-guard and his expressions being genuine. If Nine had been capable of being his own for years, then he would've been able to travel to the other worlds and take their Shards. He doesn't need Sonic. But he does want Sonic to be part of his "home". Again, he values ACTIONS over WORDS. Sonic is the first one to ever be his friend, the first to show care towards him. And in return, he opens up and cares as well, having Sonic be put into consideration for his decisions. He knows Sonic completely lost his home, Green Hill, so he wanted to surprise him with this, a new home for just the two of them.

Sonic however remains with the same mindset. Of course, the discovery of Prism's potential is incredible, Tails has done brilliant things in the past so Nine would be no different. But Sonic, as a hero, couldn't leave the Rebellion to fend for themselves against the Council. Since Tails would understand a situation like this, surely Nine would too. Right?

Transcript:

Sonic: "Look, Nine, it's incredible but it's not going anywhere. Come with me. Help me finish the fight."

Unfortunately, he doesn't.

Transcript:

Nine: "That city never brought me anything but misery. I owe it nothing. I'll help you get back..."

I'll talk more about this in my next connection, but I want to say that Sonic doesn't understand Nine. After all, Nine did tell him that he isolated himself from everyone for the sake of self-preservation. No one stopped to care, to protect. It was every being for themselves. So Nine doesn't see anyone who deserves to be saved, if they're just going to respond with hostility. (Not that Sonic ignored what he said, just set on the mindset he had.)

Well, this isn't Nine hating Sonic for wanting to go back, it's more that Nine doesn't get the point of why on Earth Sonic would like to save them. He does let Sonic go, and Sonic hopes that Nine will come and help him. After Sonic leaves, Nine shows a bit of hesitation. Again, he's perfectly fine without Sonic, and yet his friendship with Sonic made him second guess. He may not know why Sonic would want to save those people, but if the Council happened to capture Sonic again, Nine wouldn't be able to help him. Sonic trusts him, and he's not going to lose his first-ever friend.

[S1 EP6]

To be continued...

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