#pidge talks

[spunkypigeon]

Your analyzes are really helpful and so valuable to the community. It was from your latest analysis of Reiji that I got motivated to research the boys more thoroughly and became very knowledgeable about behavioral issues. But as I replayed each HDB and MB route, I suddenly realized something.

Each of the brothers is very different, but they all seem to share a lot in common when it comes to punishment and obedience. Despite being raised by such different types of mothers, many of the brothers use one common control tactic - a "reward" for obedience or punishment for disobedience. Of course, some of them can take the reward as such, while others have it quite twisted. And it seems that this practice really works on Yui, because this way they train her to obey without a second thought so that she can to avoid the pain, but I got the impression that they didn't see it that way. For most of the development of Yui's "relationship" with one of the boys, this goes to an extreme and eventually she starts to lose the line between pain and pleasure and things get complicated. But I wonder if they are doing this to make her a masochist? As far as I am informed, a man cannot suddenly become a masochist, but is born with such a tendency, and over time, so to speak, learns to awaken it. Does this mean that Yui is actually really a masochist, and it's not just words when brothers say so?

Of course I know your focus is mainly Reiji and I have no idea if you've played any of the other routes to you know. Also, Reiji isn't as mentally screwed up as Cordelia's sons and he acts very carefully and thinks his actions out more than his brothers. But since you also mentioned this reward and punishment tactic, I would be very happy if you could give me your opinion on the subject.

This is a very astute observation! You are right with each brother engaging in Operant Conditioning (or punishment and reward) even though they each have different mothers; I don't think this is coincidental. From what we see of their mothers, it can be implied that the behaviour is learned - we predominantly see this with Cordelia and her general behaviour, but we also see this with Beatrix and Shuu (I would mention Christa but I feel I lack a thorough understanding of her character). From each of the brothers, to the mothers and by extension even the Mukamis, they all seem to exhibit this form of behaviour; the only way for this to occur [beyond coincidence] is for there to be an interlinking variable. In this case, our good friend Karlheinz - CEO of Beans, Means, Heinz.

From what we learn from Ayato's and Laito's routes, it's implied that Cordelia met Karheinz when she was young - in other words, he preyed on her for her blood, and for her heritage. This can imply that Cordelia may have, in fact, been groomed (for Karl's plan) - since it can be implied that he too engages in the punishment and reward system. This is mainly theoretical, however, from Cordelia's extensive collection of fine jewellery - that, (if I'm right) come from Karlheinz (and can even be implied to be 'love bombing'). We know that Cordelia becomes self-destructive and abusive when she isn't with Karl, possibly implying that his time and gifts act as the "reward" - whereas him marrying Beatrix, Christa and generally discarding Cordeila acts as the "punishment". Cordelia possibly learned her behaviour from Karl and imprinted it onto her children - a sort of "cause and effect" if you will - whereas I've implied Beatrix to suffer from some form of generational trauma; though Karl may have also [possibly] used Operant Conditioning on Beatrix, and Christa, too.

And yes, you're right - some brothers are generous with the rewards and do something that actively makes Yui happy, such as Ayato, Azusa and Kou. However, brothers such as Laito, Kanato and Reiji present a more twisted version of 'reward' - such as Laito forcing himself on Yui [in basically every chapter let's be real] or Kanato wanting to turn Yui into a wax corpse - but that's heavily due to their response to their trauma.

You're also right about Yui being easily 'trained' via Operant Conditioning. However, I think this is a precaution - a means to demonstrate complete and utter control - and like I've mentioned with Reiji, he spares no time in enforcing that; meaning that he's likely done this hundreds of times before (and most likely so have the others). In other words, the Operant Conditioning may just be a standard routine among the brothers. I do like your interpretation that they're doing this so that Yui can avoid their punishments - it definitely puts them in a more sentimental light (and I appreciate that you've read it like this). For characters like Subaru, Shuu, Ayato (and even Kanato) I can definitely see this interpretation - as punishing Yui is more trouble than it's worth; they want her to behave and do exactly as they want.

However, for characters like Reiji and Laito, they particularly enjoy pushing Yui around, they enjoy making her slip up so they can punish her. I see this as more of a demonstration of power and control - as well as a boost to their ego. Reiji and Laito are two characters that lacked control and authority in their childhood - implying that their actions towards Yui are possibly a way to achieve that. For characters such as these, I don't belive that they want Yui to avoid pain in the beginning. Throughout the mid-way section and the end of their respective routes, they don't delight in Yui's pain - it's only in the beginning, and I think this is due to their trauma-response. In other words, the abused become the abuser - they delight in Yui's pain because she feels a physical manifestation of their mental/emotional pain. It's sadism at its most ironic.

So yes, I agree with you on that front - I don't think they see Yui's 'training' in a pet-like way - instead I believe it's a fail-safe. It's a way for each brother to be in complete control, while having the security that Yui can't escape, act out or leave them. At the end of the day, each brother values and desires affection and acceptance - using this form of control over Yui guarantees that. It's a twisted way for them to garner the emotional security they need.

However, I don't believe that any of the brothers use Operant Conditioning to actively or purposefully make Yui a masochist. From what I know, researched and from my own experiences, no one is born a sadist or a masochist. Instead, I believe it to be a learned response. Sadism and masochism are responses to pain - I don't believe people are intrinsically born to enjoy pain - it's called 'pain' for a reason. However, and this is drawn upon my own experiences, I believe that sadism and masochism arise from the exposure to suffering.

If you're exposed to constant and unyielding pain, there's only a small selection of responses to choose from. You can't run from it, you can't hide from it - fighting it only makes it worse - therefore, the only way to deal with the relenting pain is to accept it, tolerate it...enjoy it. I touch on this in my MB analysis regarding Azusa and Yui (and how Azusa is a "dark parallel" to Yui regarding this exact topic). Since the female brain doesn't full mature until mid-twenties, I can afford to take some liberties regarding Yui.

When you're exposed to heavy abuse and physical abuse as a child, your brain does funny things. Now, I'm only talking from my own experiences - so any other views on this are greatly appreciated. But like I said, when you're exposed to pain at a young age, your brain tries to rationalise it and find an effective response. If it's constant, unyielding and inescapable, you can either fight it - and in some cases, make it worse - or you can accept it. When you're a child, or a young adult, you're constantly told the message that you should enjoy life; that you have nothing to sad about or anything worth crying over. Notice how I used the word: enjoy. This is intentional because this is where the brain begins to warp. So, instead of crying about the pain, you instead learn to see the positives - that whoever's inflicting the pain is giving you 'special treatment' for example. This is what we see with Azusa and his attachment to Justin.

People inflict pain because they want to see you suffer; from how my brain responded to that, the only way to combat that is to enjoy it. Once the pain's over - or it's finally stopped for good - that sentiment doesn't go away; instead it finds something to latch onto. Think of your brain as one big circuit board, and the masochism as a cord. Once the pain stops for an extensive period, that cord becomes unplugged - and another cord is plugged in its place; the circuit board fills up. The masochism is still there, the cord hasn't disappeared; it's dangling, and it needs something to latch onto. Once you grow older, your brain develops more plugs, more sockets for different cords and branches that need to be filled in - one of those plugs is sexuality. Now obviously, sadism and masochism aren't intrinsically sexual, they are both sexual and non-sexual: the sexual being self-explanatory and the non-sexual being oriented around amusement - again, it's irony being displayed in its most painful form. But I digress, once sexuality opens itself up to the brain - like with Yui - the unplugged cord of masochism has a socket to wire itself into.

The point I'm getting at is that I believe masochism - and Yui's masochism - to be a trauma-response. It acts as a way for her to 'deal' with the pain - however, since her brain is underdeveloped, her mentality surrounding it warps and distorts. The line between pain and pleasure does become blurred. In other words, it can be implied that Yui's masochism (and Azusa's) are coping mechanisms that have become warped and distorted over time.

Note that Yui never starts the game(s) as a masochist. If anything, she hates the pain. Yet by the end of the game, she is a masochist. She's masochistic due to the severe mental stress she's under and the vile abuse she endures - and her brain can't revert back due to the extent of the distortion. Routes such as Reiji's and Laito's hinge on Yui's mentality unravelling; becoming fragile and mouldable - this is how the masochism is able to infiltrate, it's a coping mechanism (but instead of being able to abandon it, it's latched onto another part of her brain, her sexuality).

Furthermore, when the brothers refer to Yui as a masochist, it could be implied to be an exaggeration, a way to riddle Yui's mind with stress, denial and self-doubt. In other words, it could be implied that they're gaslighting her to sow doubt and make her more susceptible to their mental manipulation. Additionally, it could be implied that they're enforcing masochism onto Yui so that they can enact their own sadism onto her without any complications - to make her a 'willing victim' if you will. In essence, the brothers could call Yui a masochist in order to imprint their own views and needs onto her - sadism and masochism is the giving and receiving of pain. It can be implied that the brothers' sadistic tendencies act as an outlet for their trauma; they need a recipient to take the pain they're giving - that being Yui. However, the brothers' sadism and Yui's masochism doesn't match up.

The brothers begin their routes revelling in Yui's pain, yet they don't end their routes with the same sentiment. Yui, however, starts the routes trying to escape the pain, only to yield to it - and by the end of the route, revel in it. And I'm not just strictly talking about her own pain either. In Reiji's HDB manservant ending, we see Yui delight in the pain and subservience of others. She gains control over Reiji, in which she belittles and emasculates him, all while playing the role of 'Cordelia' - and in Kanato's HDB manservant ending, we see Yui brutally (and sadistically) murders the other brothers, revelling in the affection she believes she'll get because of it. In essence, sadism and masochism are learned responses or coping-mechanisms (gone wrong), but that's just my opinion.

You're also right, Reiji isn't as screwed up as the triplets, and he does think out his every move - painstakingly so. The only other brother I'd say who comes close is Laito,since they're both highly manipulative and predominately enforce Operant Conditioning - with Reiji’s focus being on control and Laito's being on sex. When Yui behaves, they each reward her in non-material ways - for Laito, it's sex or physical affection, and for Reiji, it's remedies when Yui's sick, her favourite meals etc. What they both 'reward' Yui with is their vulnerability. In other words, manipulative characters like Reiji, Laito, Ruki and Carla enforce Operative Conditioning to gain the comfort of control; only once that boundary is established do they 'mellow'. In other words, the need for punishment and reward is a basis wherein the brothers can build a relationship that they can thrive in.

[smallmight]

Not sure if i'll get responses but lets try this, either reply to this post, send an ask, or dm <3

[lilacical]

What would YOU do if you were STUCK in SPACE with 6 other CRAZIES

[coolnonsenseworld]

(to know more about the story and the calendar on pre-order check out previous posts! LESS THAN 2 WEEKS LEFT)

In September they don't feel like going anywhere or doing any bucket lists - no getting out of the comfort zone this time around. All they need is a little comfort of one another - they take breaks for a movie night when they wouldn't, buy extra cakes they haven't tried previously, go on date-walks and take bubble baths with new scents.

Enjoying simple things in life and appreciating your own presence here feels like it should be a basic part of any bucket list.

How is your September going? Do you have any plans or achievements this month?

[smithsibsceo]

the ninja have a cat btw her name is pigeon and she is so sweet and she only coughs up her furballs on jays bed and no one elses

[breadstickcat]

Was discussing some of my VLD fandom icks and one of them was "Plance shippers who make Pidge overly feminine" and emphasize her boobs and hips and hair and whatnot like no. Wrong. You have a fundamental misunderstanding of Pidge. Go back to the source material. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. That is actually Lance's girlhusband. His pet Genderless Creature that he dug out of a dumpster at 3am outside a space Taco Bell.

[blade-of-marmora]

What dresses would each Voltron Paladin wear and why

Don't ask what this is, my brain got distracted when looking for new clothes for the system and now we're here so. If I'm thinking about it you have to think about it too.

Okay so first of all Lance

So with Lance, he's like, I don't think he would originally want to wear a dress. I don't think he has an issue with men wearing dress just more so him wearing dresses, so it would probably take a decent amount of convincing. Or just like, tell him you could pull it off better and then he will instantly do it to spite you.

But yeah once you get Lance on board he's the type to go all out man, so I can see him in like these more extravagant outfits like the dresses above. I choose blue not only because it's his signature colour but also because a lot of the things Lance likes, (Space and the Ocean) have kind of a strong blue theme and he'd probably keep theme because he knows it looks good on him. I think he'd like the more flowy dresses rather than anything that sticks close to him.

Next up is Pidge

Okay now I know both dresses are too very different styles but, I think Pidge would probably prefer the purple dress, I can't exactly explain why I think it's their style I kind of just do. The white dress on the left though is something I think I can see her disliking at first but then kind of getting attached, and I don't think it would be her favourite but they'd probably wear it on special occasions. But yeah Pidge just has this strong kind of uh, goth? is it goth I don't think that's the right word uhm, like maybe alt? vibe about her and its uh kinda witchy so she'd like it I thiink.

Okay Hunk time

Hunk in a dark green dress just makes sense to me, I think the colour suits him well. I think he would probably like the more uh tight-fitting ones, or like the stuff that's simpler. And I'm not saying Hunk can't pull off stuff with like lots of laters or patterns and stuff I just think he'd like stuff like this more. Besides Hunk would probably not want something that covers him entirely because he gets anxious a lot and then sweats a lot and idk he just doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would wear something flowy.

Shiro is pretty easy

It's this dress specifically and only this dress, style-wise I mean. We came across it while searching for dresses for our ball a few months back and now I'm pulling it back up and it's like, instantly reminds me of Shiro he absolutely has to wear this. It's black and sparkly and Shiro is the black paladin and he probably likes sparkly stuff I think? I just think it makes the most sense.

Allura is technically a paladin so

I mean shes a princess so I assume she'd like uh, princess type gowns? maybe not in those colours but I think she'd probably wear bright and vibrant colours, idk man probably something along those lines, maybe in pink or red.

And uh me, (Keith)

I don't really like anything too flowy and we actually own the dress on the right so- yeah the shorter dresses are good because it's easier to run and fight in if you have to, yes I admit they may look slightly 'Emo' but I swear that's not it- I just like the design and colours

[pidges-lost-robot]

I think Hunk and Keith love to just stand there as Lance and Pidge fucking roast the everloving shit out of each other and wonder whether people can just be nice and get along instead

(They are both hypocrites)

[spunkypigeon]

I never understood Reiji's goals and intentions until I came across your blog. You have literally analyzed the entire game in such a detailed way that in the end you can't help but think about his psychology and character. I admit that before I read every one of your posts about this boy, I always found him to be the most boring Sakamaki brother and I couldn't explain his actions, but thanks to you I decided to give him 1 more chance. What I like most is the fact that even though he is your favorite, you don't justify or sugar coat him like many people do with their favorite character, but you appreciate, examine and explain his flaws and mental problems, trying to analyze like a true psychologist. Respect for the work you have done. I saw that you're planning more posts like this in the future and that you're going to try other characters like Ayato, who I think shares quite a bit of Reiji's personality. I can't wait for it.

Ah! Thank you, I'm glad you decided to give him one (1) more chance [even though you shouldn't, he's very rude]. BUT your point is exactly the reason why I wanted to analyse him in the first place. He's generally considered 'boring' or 'annoying' to deal with, and his dialogue can be hard to sift through if you're only looking at him at surface level.

I know I've said many times that I wanted More Blood done and dusted before now - and I genuinely thought I'd be finished, but sadly over 100k words isn't enough words for our boy - that and I'm ☆chronically ill☆ at the moment. I feel like a sick Victorian child lmao

I am getting through the transcripts, but very slowly. It doesn't help that I was on the verge of a stroke when someone decided to ☆delete☆ a section of my work. Thank you Ctrl + Z because I was about to invoke the most destructive gamer rage this world has ever seen.

I am glad that you decided to send this ask Anon since I never really knew how much this could help people understand Reiji (even if it's just from my perspective). I feel like the best way to thoroughly appreciate a character is to acknowledge their flaws, and I'm glad you're able to appreciate them too >3<

But I do think you're right about Ayato. I feel like he definitely shares a lot of traits with Reiji, but more so as his opposite. I feel like Reiji and Ayato have a ying/yang code to them; I stand by my interpretation that Ayato represents chaos and that Rejii represents order.

[For your diligence, please take this sanrio Reiji]

Also, mini rant: I can't be the only one that instantly thinks of Zhongli whenever they see the word 'order', right? The line just goes through my head like the plague, so now my brain decided to fuse him and Reiji together, and now I'm stuck with this:

that feels like a ☆violation☆ of fandoms

[klanced]

lance: yeah so this is earth. it’s kind of lame but like also very wonderous. there’s something to be said about finding beauty in the smaller moments-

pidge: do you guys want to go to build-a-bear?

coran: build a WHAT?

pidge: .. honestly did not think it would warrant that kind of response

coran: do you promise.

pidge: ?

allura: oh that sounds like fun! 

coran: can we go.

pidge: yeah sure!!!

(later)

coran: (sulking on the ship)

lance: .. coran, what did you think build-a-bear meant-

coran: i don’t want to talk about it.

[lilacical]

Voltron will disappear after June ends

[rorimoon9597]

Keith with black hair that fades into purple. Imagine it. The ends of his hair begin to fade as Voltron + Coran, Krolia, Shiro and Romelle travel to Earth. When the group realised what was happening, they freaked out because it's kinda cool that his hair's doing that, okay?

And Lance can't help but think that he's hot with the black and purple hair.

[justaz]

lance and hunk would so get married just for the fuck of it. like they so had a little vegas wedding with matt as the flower girl and stayed married for a few months then got divorced just for the dramatics

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

happy pride month to fyoran enjoyers specifically

[toasthoneyandstardust]

i like to think this is the way these losers chose to communicate with one another, through fucking miiverse

[powderblueblood]

For the old Hollywood AU - dealer’s choice & this quote: “And they'll know - everyone will fucking know that they could never control one goddamn fucking thing."

😘

BABYLON SENTENCE MEME

set in the frenetic grimy screwball universe of BURN LIKE NITRATE, the old hollywood au an: this is 3k words because i am soooo normal about all this. no majorly explicit warnings, just fluff and angst and coarse language and a slight allusion to steve's drinking problem

LOS ANGELES, 1927

Seven frantic knocks on your bedroom door awaken you with a skin-jumping start, and you realize you've fallen asleep with your needlework in hand. Again.

"Oof," you breathe, a hand brushing across your brow as you set the embroidery hoop down on your rickety bedside table. That'll be Pidge or one of the other girls at the door, eye-rolling and telling you it's lights out-- as is the routine racket come ten at night, every night. Bunny Lamelle's boarding house kept strict rules, and they included lights out at ten, no boozing, and no shoes or men past the first floor.

Little do you know, you're about to shatter all three of those sacrosanct commandments.

You barely bother to smooth your nightgown before you crack open your bedroom door-- and regret it immediately.

"Mr Harrington?"

Bleary-eyed and wearing a grin that would knock a nun clean out, Steven Harrington stands in the frame of your bedroom door.

Well, stands is generous. His knees look fit to buckle under the weight of whatever's in that flask he's carrying.

"Evening, Beadie."

"Get inside, quickly! Please!" You yank him in by the crook of his arm, and immediate thrill sparks in you. You'd never think to do that ordinarily! Gosh, you're afraid to even touch the fabric that you drape over the man's frame in a professional setting, and you're his darn costume fitter.

As a precaution, you poke your head out into the hallway, neck swiveling left and right. Clear? Clear. You gently close the door.

"How ever did you get up here?" you question as Steve, as he keeps insisting you call him (but you only ever do in your head-- manners are a girl's best friend!), stumbles a touch before flopping down on your bed.

Your bed. Oh, dear.

"I'm no stranger to the facilities here at Bunny Lamelle's, I'll have you know!" he proclaims, hitching himself up on his elbows. The light in here is terrifically bright, too bright for his liking, and your bed is terrifically soft, but that's just right. "It's no Hollywood Studio Club, but it's not a complete pigsty they keep you girls in--"

The pitch of his voice keeps rising and rising, and you know very well that the walls are thin and the eponymous Bunny can hear everything. Steve is familiar with Bunny Lamelle, having been chased down the stairs of this very boarding house more times than he could count. His early years in Los Angeles were nothing if not, ah, eventful. He knows he ought to be quiet, but he feels mournful tonight. Feeling mournful always leads him down the path to goading, because being sad is a fucking sap's game.

You make a motion, pleading with him to shush-- and sold on the look on your face alone, Steve's voice drops to a stage whisper.

"The back door has a loose lock."

"I know," you whisper back. "I taught Pidge how to jimmy that lock open when we both moved in here."

"That little bearcat lives here too? What a pair you two make."

Steve looks surprised, same as Pidge had looked surprised. A little church girl like you, knowing how to pick a lock. Imagine that. He swears, every time you deign open your mouth, which has become more and more frequent during your little fittings, you threaten to knock the knees from under him. Some turn of phrase, some thread of history he never guessed would be woven into your coat.

You feel a blush flaring at your cheeks, Steve's half-focused eyes resting on you a moment too long.

You force yourself to clear your throat, though breaking the spell of his stare feels like a betrayal.

"What are you doing here, Mr--"

"Bea-die. I insist. I'm in your chambers, for Chrissake."

"Steve." You put a nice fine point on it, finer than your needlework. If he insists.

Ah, yes. The reason for the season. As if punching the air in victory, Steve's right arm thrusts into the air. His movements are like those of a marionette filled with whiskey.

"It appears I have torn a button."

Indeed. A button hangs from a thread, dangling from the cuff of Steve's impeccable satin shirt, part in parcel of his whole satin getup. An outfit designed to make him look the consummate ideal of the American picture star, an image you're positive they couldn't have illustrated without the reference of his good looks and charm.

But now the suit is creased and rumpled and reeking of liquor, and the man inside it, the man you now know to be wondrous and interesting outside of the fascination he inspires onscreen, looks despondent.

This is all getting a little on-the-nose.

"You came over here to... to ask me to mend a button?" You don't mean to let that twinge of disappointment escape your voice.

Steve's mouth gapes and shuts again. He can't tell if it's the whiskey or what, but that feels like flimsy reasoning all of a sudden. "I suppose I did."

You can feel your blood pressure rising. He risked getting you evicted from the only place in Los Angeles you can afford to stay because of some silly button? Well, I never! The gall, the nerve, the-- the vanity! You take a deep, steadying breath and cross the room to the bathroom that you and Pidge share, adjoining both your bedrooms.

"If you'll excuse me."

He starts to speak, but you click the door closed behind you, softly as you can manage. When safely inside, you stuff the shower curtain into your mouth and let out a silent, frustrated scream. So, you'll do the only thing you know to do. You'll consult your most trusted source of a second opinion.

Pidge, how do I go about not murdering the entitled movie star that's currently sitting on my bed?

As if she'd heard you summoning, Pidge comes crashing through her bathroom door, hair mussed and face flushed. Giggling. Until she sees you, that is, and her face drops. She slams the door behind her, and you swear you can hear a muffled, "Ow!"

Louder than is necessary, she says, "Hello, Beadie!"

"Pidge..." Something's off in the body language of the script girl.

At a normal volume, "Hello, Beadie." A beat, as she takes you in. "Is everything alright?"

Oh, forget whatever madness Pidge has indulged herself in now! You're having an honest-to-god emergency!

"No!" you flutter, arms flapping, "No, it is not because Steven Harrington is sitting in my bedroom!"

Pidge's eyes flare for about half a second, which is just the amount of surprise she doles out for any occasion. You could tell her that Victrola records were shrinking to half their size and all she'd do is give you the ol' wide eyes and move onto more logical matters.

"The way you're talking makes me think he oughtn't be."

"Of course he oughtn't be!"

"Why oughtn't he be?"

"Well, other than the obvious, Pidge! He-- he's Steven Harrington!" Most recently seen on the arm of the latest WAMPAS Baby, Steven Harrington. Box office darling, Steven Harrington. Object of many a rabid fan letter, Steven Harrington. "And get this, he risked life and limb sneaking up here so I could sew a button back on for him!"

"That's what they're calling it now? Cad," Pidge says, eyes narrowing. Then they flare again. "Oh, hold the line..."

Your breath stitched up in your throat. "What?"

"Harrington's got a premiere tonight. Seven Slow Dances. It ought to be," Pidge checks her watch and you notice her lipstick is smudged. Hm. "Well, gosh, it'll be over by now. After party at The Roosevelt, natch. Warner Jr will have his guts for garters if he doesn't show his mug."

Your bottom lip trembles a tad, hands flapping with the sheer current of nerves and anger and excitement and dread coursing through you.

"Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, what am I to do?!"

Your roommate and friend grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a good, hefty shake.

"Beadie, snap out of it. You know exactly what you're to do. You're to mend that button and you're to send him on his way." She gives you this stare that's kind of wavering at the corners.

That throat of yours is suddenly drier than Glendale. You swallow, roughly. You dare to ask, "And what if... he tries any funny business?"

Pidge doesn't miss a beat. "Well, I have a revolver in my delicates."

This response makes you abandon the followup question of what if I'd like him to try some funny business. You nod, resolute and terrified, grabbing your sewing box from the commode. Pidge stands stock still stationary in the bathroom, arms crossed and eyes bright with curiosity.

You wonder what you'd just caught her in the middle of.

But the door clicks shut behind you and you find Steve lying flat on his back, his head dangling off the edge of your modest single bed.

"Told half of Hollywood I'm here already, huh?" His tone is languid, but not scornful. Playful, even. Like he could really expect such a thing from you. Wide-eyed, innocent you.

A nervous chuckle bubbles from you, Steve dousing the flame of your irritation as soon as he'd lit it. You edge closer to the bed, suddenly very conscious of the way your nightgown is fitting.

"Certainly not. Just, I knocked into Pidge in the bathroom. It happens, sharing and all. I didn't--"

But before you can lie, "Hello, Pigeon!" Steve calls, and you lurch for him-- too loud! He emits something close to a giggle. "She's quite the hard boiled tomato. How is it you two became so close?"

You shrug. That was a story, but not one you were about to regale Steve Harrington with. He needed to be sewn up, given his marching orders. That's that. "Every lady needs her foil, I suppose."

"Good god, don't sell yourself so short," Steve says, and there's a real edge to his voice. He's truly admonishing you. You can't truly see yourself that way, can you? Playing second fiddle to some studio drone workaholic like poor Pidge, when you and your delicate hands and your brilliant mind had the gall and grace to exist on this earth?

Christ, is he drunk.

Though, you can't help it sometimes. You love Pidge, love her true, but can't help but think she stacks up so much higher compared to you; in experience, in nerve, in dealing with men like him.

"You're the genuine article, Beadie."

Steve says this to you. Steven Harrington says this to you. Even if he's corked and ready to pour, he says this to you.

You have to give yourself an even moment to remember the act of taking a human breath and how it works.

When you recover, your voice is tiny. "Sit up, please."

He does as is told, the same as when you tell him so in the fitting rooms. It's the one time that Steve doesn't mind being told what to do; you go about it gentle, careful not to prick him with your little pins. He trusts that you never will. And, you always asks things like, "Well, how does that feel, Mr Harrington?" and then add that adorable shy addendum, "I mean, to move in?"

You settle next to him on the bed, sewing kit in your lap. Steve presents his sleeve to you and you finger the darling little pearlescent button. Feels too violent for your nature to snap it off of its lingering thread-- and yet you do it. And he can't explain it, but it thrills him.

Steve watches you thread your needle with an intensity that does not go unnoticed by you. Your entire head feels hot.

"You're aware I had a premiere tonight, Beadie."

"Oh, of course I am," and you did, having faithfully followed this man's work for years, "Seven Slow Dances, wasn't it?"

Steve swallows, feeling the paparazzi light bulbs crack behind his eyes. The tense silence in the theater that just kept getting tenser and stickier as the preview of the picture droned on.

"It's set to be my biggest picture to date," he tells you, a slur creeping into his voice, "A thoroughly modern romp, catapulting me to as-yet-unforeseen notoriety. Have you heard this?"

A small smile wafts over your lips, daring to break your focus. "Why, that sounds wonderful."

Steve emits a hearty scoff, and you have to place a hand on his arm to steady it.

"Wonderful? It sounds like bullshit to me. It sounds like the company line," he sniffs, "Do you know why I do all this, Beadie? Why I became an actor? To escape the company line."

You still your needle to an unnecessarily slow speed, taking far longer than you need to with resewing this button. Because he does this, when he's in your hands and you have your points turned towards him. He opens up, to you.

"But it follows you, you know," Steve goes on, voice thickening. That sends a jolt of alarm through you. "Chases you like you've got a target on your back."

You've never heard him sound quite like this before. Cornered.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean..." you murmur, eyes leaving the safe reserve of the needlepoint and button to watch him. Watch his profile. Watch the tears begin to well in his scorched sugar eyes.

"I traded being one kind of stooge for another, do you know that?" he sniffs, bitterness putting a bite in his voice, "I rejected the role that was set out for me, the heir to HH Industries, to become an artist! If you can fucking believe that. Because I thought it meant something. I thought it meant I'd finally have control over my own life."

It strikes you dumb. It's an honesty so blistering, you can't quite believe that it's real, that he's sharing it with you. "I..."

"I don't," have any control, he means, "I'm being prodded around like a prize show pony in front of these cameras, preening to Photoplay and acting like it all means something when it doesn't."

Steve turns to you now, a single, screen-perfect tear cascading down his screen-perfect face. But his vitriol feels ugly and ill-fitting, like he feels in this stupid satin suit.

"And you know what, Beadie? You know what's the killer? The bullet aiming straight for my heart?"

Suspended in shock, your needle held aloft. "No..."

Steve clears his gummed up throat, nodding mirthlessly. Of course. How would you know, you poor, sweet thing?

"Once this shitheap of an Al Jolson picture goes to print, the entire company line is going to change. Sound in the pictures, what a gimmick!" he cackles, "But the public loves a gimmick, and that's who we sacrifice ourselves for. And it'll push me, who has given everything to create something out of nothing, and every other dumb sap like me, right out the door. And they'll know - everyone will fucking know that they could never control one goddamn fucking thing. Our fate, our crushable fate in the hands of those dipshit Warner brothers. The company line. Sundown on Steven Harrington."

It completely befuddles you that he could think this way. Of course, the colony is splintering into two and a dozen camps, each different variants of sound is the death of cinema and talkies are the way of the future. You had heard Pidge's diatribes on it, but hadn't settled on an opinion yourself. Pictures with sound would surely still need costumes, but you hadn't thought for even a moment about how it might effect someone like Steve. How it might... frighten him.

"Oh, Steve. Steve, you know that's not true." That hand of yours that rests on his arm tightens some. His head dips.

"It is true, Beadie," he presses and sniffles, "They'll lose any interest they had in me; for Chrissake, I can't stand up to those booming voiced theater types. I've churned my butter in pantomime! I've wasted my life on something completely null."

His words coax you to near tears. This feels as if he's welcomed you into his cocoon, shown you all the ways he fears he'll fail to metamorphose.

But then, you catch another whiff of the liquor on his breath.

You remember that, despite it all, you need to be careful-- Steve may be sweet to you now, in this moment, but Steven Harrington at large is still a documented rake. He's a mess. He'll do anything, say anything, to get what he wants.

You know this. You love this. And you know that you oughtn't.

You finish the last stitch on his errant button and push an encouraging smile across your face.

"Well. All the more reason to get peeling out to that after party then, isn't it? Make sure they don't forget who you are."

A friendly pat to his arm serves as half an encouragement for him to get up and off your bed.

This is not the reaction he wants. With his head tilted toward you, with all his sparkling tears, this is not the reaction Steve was aiming for. He can't even say he wanted to kiss you in that moment, but he did not expect you to tow that very same company line. Buck up, buddy boy. Put on a good show.

But you're a good girl. Of course you think that's the way things ought to be. He shouldn't be confusing you like this. Sullying your mind against the Warner behemoth.

Steve stands, re-buttoning his mended sleeve. You watch him, eyes gleaming and worried. He's gone all silent and sullen again, like he does. Then again, he may not even remember this in the morning.

"Away I go, then," he murmurs, barely coherent, "into the fray."

"Do be careful," you tell him, chest constricted. "Sneaking back out, I mean."

"Not my first rodeo," he reminds you, and it feels terrifically callous for some reason.

And then Steve is gone, slipping through your bedroom door. As fast and furtively as he appeared, and all that's left behind him is the silver glimmer of his flask folded into the plush of your bed sheets.